#[ try and get a little bit more active on baron over here with one of these ]

[sp4ceboo]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, bit of knife play, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears him to you, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

"Am I keeping you awake, wife?"

You shake your head. "I had not retired yet."

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. "If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me."

"You don’t know what I want," he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. "Don’t test me."

You smile, cloyingly so. "Why not?"

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

"Get away from me."

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

"What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?"

You raise a brow, faking confusion. "What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me."

He snarls. "Who were you with last night?"

"I thought you wanted me to get away from you," you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. "I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances."

"Advances?" He echoes, incredulous. "You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you."

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

"That’s the problem, isn’t it?" You murmur. "You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd."

"They should be," he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

"Indeed," you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

"Get on your knees," you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

"All you have to do is say, and I will stop," you say.

He dips his chin. "I do not think I’ll have to."

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

"Get up, strip, and get on the bed," you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

"For whom do you wait, husband?"

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

"Pathetic."

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

"No touching," you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

"Please let me come," he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. "Please."

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

"Feeling okay?"

He nods.

"Words," you chide.

"Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay."

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

"Can I…" He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

"No, little na-Baron," you reply coyly. "Tell me what you desire."

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. "I want to taste you, na-Baroness."

You smile. "As you wish."

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

"Good boy," you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. "Want to fuck me now, hm?"

He nods avidly. "Yes, na-Baroness."

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

"You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?"

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

"That’s it," you sigh as he finds his pace. "Just like that, good boy."

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

"Feyd," you murmur. "It was not too much, was it?"

"N - no," he replies. "I just…"

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

"Wife," Feyd bites out. "Surely you do not mean - "

"I mean it," you cut in. "Every word."

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

"You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha."

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Watching the Dune miniseries for the first time. Thoughts:

Set design makes me think of early 2000s Doctor Who

Paul is such a smartass in this version lmao

Surprisingly good dialogue? Like if the genius of the 2020s films comes from their ability to depict a very narration-heavy story through visuals, this one shines in it's ability to do the same but via dialogue that remains in character while also efficiently Does Exposition

Weirdly sexual reverend mother/box scene? why

there was NO reason to pronounce Thufir like that. Toofer. Who approved this.

I think this is the only version that includes the greenhouse scene?

Turns out this is the only version that includes a lot of specific book plot points people often forget about so that's neat

The soundtrack is weirdly similar to Hans Zimmer's score in places

I'm sorry Paul gives off the same vibes as that one terrible Pinocchio movie in this I"m so sorry

I actually really like the way the Atreides control on Arrakis is portrayed along with Duke Leto's cynicism, I don't *love* the way Leto is played here, I know it's William Hurt but I feel like he was honestly kinda miscast. However, I like that they explained how much he's aware that they're an imperial power no different from any others, and that he has schemes and ways of keeping that power of his own

The scene where Paul imitates the Baron is insane. So out of pocket I'm obsessed. and the actor played it so well too like?? His switch into an actually decent impression was wild

(also sent me down a mini rabbit hole of realizing that actor is Scottish which I would have had NO idea because Paul's vibes in this are . violently American is the best way to describe it.)

A lot of the acting is ....idk a little stiff? Awkward? My favourite performance is probably Saskia Reeves as Jessica

Love the dude playing Gurney too I think this might actually be my favourite version of his character

Introducing Irulan at the feast is...a choice? Idk if it's a good or bad one but it's definitely A Choice

Ok the visuals are reminding me of like. early 2000s Steam games. Myst anyone?

SAMURAI SARDUKAUR

Honestly love the repeated shot of the face emerging out of the sand, if only the cgi was a little better because that could've been sick

The Fremen are all kinda dressed like the Sparrows from Game of Thrones

Oh is this where the "Fremen popping out of the sand for combat" comes from because I don't remember that from the book? Did Denis get it from here? maybe I'm wrong

One thing I don't understand with both this and the '84 film is that they both refer to only the people living in the seitches as "Fremen", whereas I always took that to refer to anyone living on Arrakis basically? Are the city dwellers not also Fremen ? Is this a book thing I forgot about?

This might be the only version of this story where Jessica and Chani have uhhh sexual tension in at least one scene?

AGGRESSIVELY AUSTRALIAN SAMURAI SARDUKAR

I like that even this version has a bit of contention between Paul and Chani - albeit for different reasons than the new films. They deserve a bit of drama yk?

Like near the end after they've lost their son and Paul says "I will bring water to this planet too" (or something of that nature) and she responds with "payed with in the blood of my people" ??? wild

In general I don't hate this version of her character or their relationship, like if they were gonna stick with the book's storyline re: them but still have a bit of that push/pull going on this was a good way to do it

I knowwww it's a low hanging fruit but holy shit I can't get over the green screen. I know it was 2000 I'm trying to look past it but holy shit. Hoooooly shit.

I like the amount of agency they gave Irulan in this version. It's neat because in the book she isn't really present or active for a lot of it, but because of her writing excerpts we get a real sense of her presence throughout the story, so having her be more present throughout was a nice touch

Ughhh insane about the parallels between Paul's fight in this version vs the new films especially that last shot: in this version there's a shot where Irulan approaches him and he turns away and goes to Chani, in the 2024 movie he goes to Irulan and her father and then turns back to Chani only to see her walk away from him. Ghhhhhh this is something I'm obsessed

[handelplayssims]

Before we move into the next household, it’s time to talk about another purchase! I’ve managed to nab High School Years! This pack leapt up the list of packs-to-get with the playable high school. Naturally I’ve made a few adjustments to Copperdale.

Number 1 being getting a nicer high school. I nabbed Lilsimie’s and made some minor adjustments. Namely, I adore Frank the Flying Whomp Whomp and added his statues around the place! (Also some footballs and adjusting the door that’s faculty only) Now I do have another high schoool in mind...but that's for a collective Copperdale/alumini wealth thing!

Secondly, instead of the near starter lot, I added in a diner. I would have gone for something a bit more small-town themed but this is going to replace my diner in Newcrest. Now Newcrest’s restaurant can be even fancier! And have those experimental foods!

And the final lot, Little Falls Nook got a 71 thousand dollar home. It’s within the reach of established families but it’s still something Sims will have to work towards if they want to live there. Oh, and I also switched the rental home into a residential one as well. There really isn’t any lots per say that would really gain tourism much. I let Henford-on-Bagley slide because it’s super based on an area that has tourism as a lure but I don’t think Copperdale has such lures. No, I don’t count the amusement rides. Those are kinda like, a low level quality lure, only real good for locals and stuff. But enough about Copperdale! Let’s move onto our new household!

These two were a part of the Dream Home Decorator pre-release trailer footage. And I kinda thought they were a couple but no. They’re half-siblings. Out of the three in-homed DHD households, I’m moderately amused I’m getting not Patina, or her sister and her daughter, but these two. Anyway, the two are living in a fancy house sooooo, let’s see where their whims will take them!

Freddie is at the high class lounge in Del Sol Valley for some reason. -shrug- First whim is to purchase a chess table and second to bro hug a bro. Let’s head home first. Annnnd it is storming at Newcrest. Glorious. There’s a chess set at home so I set Freddie to ponder moves instead of purchasing one.

Now I have to slide into skills and such for ideas. Job ideas. Freddie has six in wellness and Autumn just has one in fitness. Hmm. Well I do have an idea for what to do with Freddie! Yoga Instructor and Massage Therapist! You can just take out the objects and use them all around for some extra money. ...we’ll see if I actually stick with it. Autumn’s aspiration is Mansion Baron which...ehhhh. Not a favorite. But it does make for a good idea to try out some of the teen aspirations from High School Years. Admired Icon sounds like a good start!

We’re heading to school with Autumn! I am UTTERLY pleased with how many teens I recognize around here. Do have quite a few of them around in my households! We got Alex Feng, adopted scion of the Feng family. Alexander Goth! Maria Caliente, Katrina’s daughter! Olivia Kim-Lewis! And Molly Prescott and Sidney Price and...that football dude! (He wasn’t in the promotional trailers so I don’t know his name off the top of my head) Alex Feng was doing the T-Pose challenge so let’s do that real quick, as it is a part of our aspiration before class begins. Today’s class is business class, which raises our charimsa skill. We’ll be there for an hour or so before lunch-time.

It is now lunch-time and I am UTTERLY AMPED to go and make some friends. Who do we talk to? Who do we talk to? Let’s go with Alex Feng, the person we T-posed with! Over lunch the two chat and Autumn makes her first friend! After lunch is the foreign language class today, which raises both Charisma and Selvadoradian Culture. (So obviously Span-imlish) Now what do I do with Autumn and after-school activities? Debating between joining the Drama Club and becoming a Simfluencer. Leaning towards the latter and so I shall pick it up! But for now, we’re heading home. She’s sleepy after all, and an afternoon nap is calling! So now we rotate over to Freddie. Still has his two whims so let’s find a bro to bro-hug. Using the clubs thing from Get Together, I can filter Sims by traits and...well, I’m suddenly sad again that we have lost Partihus. My favorite bros are gone! I have to go to the inferior bro-filled home. The Roomies. Sadness.

Anyway, I popped on over and did a round of socials. Found out Zoe Patel, J Huntington, Mitchel Kalani and Gavin Richards initial trait and career. Also set up my massage table and offered a massage to the household. Zoe asked but routing failed her so I instead gave her the most expensive massage I could! Anyway, hungry and sleepy so let’s drop by the nearby food stall and have a burg and then head home. Edited Autumn’s clothes since I realized she didn’t have a formal outfit set and Freddie’s sexuality is changed to only be attracted to men. This man is flamboyant as hell and that makes it obvious to make him queer. Autumn I don’t have any particularly strong feelings for at the moment though.

Neighborhood Watch!

Ami Yamazaki in the Yamazaki household has died. Ami was so angry she burst into flames and died.

[demethinkstoomuch]

A Survey of House Leadership Titles

We know just enough about each house and its founders that I think there might be some threads to pull at in terms of what different house titles say about the house intends of its leadership, or some other interesting observation  -- in some cases, not a lot, but I’d say enough that there’s enough for me to play with and gnaw on like a naughty cat who should not be chewing embroidery thread.

The Second: No Known Title????

This is so interesting to me. Like, Judith is heir to the House of the Second, and this is a fact that, nevertheless, never at any point makes anything about the internal structure of the second even the slightest bit clear. What is she even heir to? I’m assuming it’s hereditary, because that seems to be the case across the board except for the Sixth. But what is she actually heir to? The training facility? The cohort command within the system??? Something else???

We don’t know, we just know their cohort ranks. Judith’s father was an admiral -- but I am sadly forced to conclude not Sarpedon, because Judith’s father projected a career for her that would force her to stay mostly within the system, and Sarpedon’s career has mostly kept him out of system. This constitutes the entirety of what we know about the Second... But, there’s information in this non-information. What this all says about the Second is that they try and present their cohort ranks as the important ones, the ones that Really Matter...But, then again, Judith, a mere captain, is the heir of the house, so...Are they what Really Matter, really? We don’t know the rules about which contexts things matter in, which I would call not encouraging. That said, I’m betting that Judith a) tries to avoid this contradiction sincerely and steadfastly by honoring the Cohort’s chain of command, and b) she isn’t the only one. If there’s an illusion that there is no mess or complication or strangeness here, it’s a precious illusion that no one intends to disturb until push comes to shove. What the Second cares about most, between their hierarchy and the cohort’s, is a question they do not want to answer.

The Third: King/Queen(?) of Ida, assumed

Man, that is such the most attention-whore title. The pageantry! The showmanship! Crown princes! Princesses! I bet there’s a literal crown, don’t you? (Also, while I’d assume from numerical order that the 5th came after the 3rd, I get the vibe from the general atmospheres of the houses the title order might have been different, that the 3rd picked King and Queen because it’s like Lord and Lady, but bigger and better. If it isn’t, then this is what would have happened if the chronology had played out differently.)

By the way, I do want to know why Babs is a Prince. Like, is that a family rank? A cavalier primary rank? A combined Cavalier-Family rank? A courtesy title? Answer the question, Naberius Tern!

The Fourth: Baron/ess of Tisis

I don’t have much to say about this one, except that my guess is that it’s kind of like the Third or Fifth titles, but, like, different (and a little bit Less Fancy.) I think that is not a coincidence even a little. Also, Baron sounds very cool.

The Fifth: Lady/Lord of Konniortus

Oh, man. I have takes on this one. For one, this is 100% an Augustine decision. For two, Oh, good heavens, he was so smug about it for centuries. It’s powerful, yet understated. Grand as all hell, but not showing off. Everyone would have wanted classical nobility titles, but the specificity of some makes them a bit weaker. I’m thinking of, like, the Lady of the Mercians, or Empress Matilda going by “Lady of the English” as an uncrowned queen for the way the term can sort of gently elide over questions of specific rank. It’s simple, classy, brief.  Augustine is judging half the titles on this list and laughing with a sad shake of his head, like it’s cute that you tried to go as hard as “Lady of Konniortus” and you absolutely failed. And those are the ones where he’s not actively rolling his eyes. But more on that in, oh, about 3 houses from now.

The Sixth: Master Warden

OK, but you know who deserves to be smug for her rad naming skills? Cassie. And I say Cassie, to be clear, because I know it’s her name. Or, the name someone who knew the things Cassie knew about the Sixth. Because, really, I think this refers, in an oblique way, to the Break Clause. Because that clause is, well, it’s the key. It’s the key to the literal and metaphorical lock binding the Sixth House to the empire and to the planet. The whole facility is a prisoner, in a way, overseen by its warden. The whole facility is a lock. And do you know what we call the internal jaws of a lock?

Nothing, actually, because there isn’t a part of a lock that one calls “the internal jaws,” I’ve looked up locksmithing terms when google could not avail me. But...I do know that, if Palamedes and the Sixth thinks of a part of the lock as the Internal Jaws, he’s talking about the little metal pieces inside the lock that the key’s teeth and cut are meant to fit into and around, so only the right key will fit. They are jaws in the sense that teeth fit into them.  When Palamedes makes this little riddle during the Fifth’s dinner party, he’s talking about The Wards. And that it can be unlocked, if a key that fits the ward(en)s is produced, is how the Sixth House is like a lock.

I love that for the Sixth. I got so excited about this realization that I went to some lengths to include this line of thinking in a sixth-house centric fic, because it was simply too good to leave out.They went for an elaborate, multilayered self-created reference that refers back to their secret secession plan, and they’ve stuck with that for 10,000 years without giving away the Bit. Good for them. Really, just delightful.

The Seventh: Duchess/Duke of Rhodes (Assumed)

So, this is more or less just like how I read the Fourth’s nomenclature, except they went with Fancy over Cool. It’s very nearly as important as King/Queen, but not quite, which suits them well enough.  Unless there’s a higher rank and Dulcie’s parents have that rank, which they might. It seems implied. They also keep up the theming, with Pro being a Knight of Rhodes. Point is, they, the Third, the Fifth, and the Fourth are all a part of a system of names, with the Fifth a tiny bit set apart, and the Third probably clawing for the top.

The Eighth: Master Templar of the White Glass

I love this title, and part of what I love is that I know Augustine hates it and rolls his eyes every time he hears it. Because I think it’s a Christabel idea. And I say that for a couple of reasons. The biggest being, it sounds very cool but it makes no sense. Like, flash your mind through literally every point at which Silas or the Eighth house are mentioned. How many of them refer to, in any way, anything pertaining to White Glass? Once, only once. Harrow refers to “White glass mysteries,” but that’s it. It’s a mystery. Outside of that, this title only exists, is only referred to, is only acknowledged at all, in the Gideon the Ninth Dramatis Personae. Sure, the Eighth get described with White, and Templars seems reasonable. They are even referred to as White Templars, because, sure, sensible. But White Glass? Is a throw-away concept here, one only Harrow seems to ever think about. It is a cool-sounding title that refers to nothing of any significance. Its only justification is that it’s rad. It’s just a little stupid, but joyfully so.

Which is not a Mercymorn thing. But I can totally see it as a Christabel decision, one she got very excited about. Like, this is the woman who made One Flesh, One End a thing for the next 10,000 years. Christabel seems to love this stuff, and I think if she got cheerfully enthusiastic about it, Mercymorn would go along with it, and that would enshrine it forever.

The Ninth: The Reverend Father/Mother

So, this is another very good one. Like, Anastasia and Cassiopeia are over here thinking of legitimately good and clever titles, ones which contain a duty, and a secret, and it’s the duty at the core of the house’s leadership, at that. Obviously, the idea of a Reverend Mother is one suitable for the Abbess of a nunnery, so that checks out to begin with, but there’s another layer to it, too. A reason why it’s Reverend Mother and not, say, Abbess, that catches my eye post-Nona, but really ought to have caught my eye before that. “Reverend Daughter,” as a position of heirship, is something important because it’s a Ninth invention. The existence of a Daughter or a Son, as opposed to just having Sisters or Brothers and Mothers or Fathers, creates a direct family line within the ruling family. It becomes a bloodline and an abbey in the same breath.

Harrow insists from the Pool Scene onward that it was critical, the whole future of their house, to have an unbroken bloodline of necromancers descended from Anastasia. And at the end of Nona, we see why: Because Anastasia made a pact with Alecto that is recognized as being attached to Anastasia’s descendants, known by blood. They are the unfulfilled vow, Harrow is right! A line of parents and children, reaching back to their original parent, who made a promise. Mothers and Daughters, all the way down. That’s what the House is really for.

A+ Naming, Anastasia. Fantastic. Beautiful.

[niccymo]

The ‘Spice of Life’✨ Legacy Challenge

Sometimes playing the sims can get a little stale, and somewhat repetitive, especially The Sims 4. I know I can get stuck playing the same stories over and over again, so I decided to create this challenge to add a little excitement and variety to my, and hopefully your, game-play!

After all, variety is the spice of life!

Gen 1: The Wild Child

You’re a sim who loves to get down, go on adventures and spend time with other sims! You can be a bit of a handful for some sims, but that’s okay! You’ve been wild since the day you were born and you wouldn’t want to be any other way. You have about a million things you want to do in your life time and you’re gonna do them all!

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Traits: Dance Machine, Adventurous, Outgoing

Generation rules / goals:

Join the secret agent career and get to the top of it before your sim becomes an elder

Once your sim is an elder have them start a new job, keep them on their toes!

Complete the Friend of the Animals aspiration

Master the Dance & Pet training skills throughout your sims lifetime

Have five animals in your sims house-hold at one time (these should be cats, dogs, raccoon, foxes, etc.) - you don’t always have to have five but you should at some point

Have you sim have at least 10 friends and having a falling out with one of them and become enemies

Have a best-friend that is NOT your partner / spouse

Have your sim go out at least once every weekend to either the club, the bar or somewhere else they can dance! They’re a dance machine remember!

Your sim can have as many children as you like, but keep in mind that they have a lot of animals in the house

You must have at least one child in order for them to become heir, they can be adopted or biological, it doesn’t matter!

Go on at least two family vacations, one of these must be to Mt. Komorebi

Have your sim be a very relaxed parent, no rules, no pressure to get good grades, etc. (Parenthood is needed for this but if you don’t have it that’s okay just do your best without it!) 

Gen 2: The Money Maker

Your parent was the coolest! but you always wished there was more structure in your life. You’re a perfectionist, and truth be told a little materialistic, but that doesn’t make you a bad person! You love to hangout with friends, playing video games and chatting about the latest Sci-Fi movies. From the time you were a child you knew you wanted the best things in life and were determined to work your butt off to get them! 

Aspiration: Mansion Baron

Traits: Perfectionist, Geek, Materialistic

Generation rules / goals:

Have your sim start working as a teenager to save up for their future house

Complete the Mansion Baron inspiration

Reach the max level of the Business Career in either the Investor or Management branch (although the Investor branch makes a bit more money!)

Master the video gaming skill throughout your sims lifetime

Have your sim start their own club once in their teens with ‘Play video games’ as the main activity. Keep this club going throughout your sims life and try to have a club meeting once a week 

Make your sim go to GeekCon whenever they can, once they have kids bring them along as well!

Have a hobby that can make you money - kind of like a side job. Whatever skill you choose (painting, flower arranging, etc.) master it

Once your sim completes their Mansion Baron aspiration have dinner parties once a week - Your sim is materialistic and they want to show off the nice house they’ve worked so hard for!

Once your sim becomes an elder have them retire and focus only on hobbies and relaxation (only once they’re reached the max level in their career though)

Gen 3: The Tree Hugger

You grew up in a wealthy household with pretty much everything you could have wanted. You had a great childhood and your admired your parents work ethic, although you knew that when you grew up you wanted to do something more meaningful for the world than investing. So you packed up your bags as soon as you hit young adulthood and moved to Evergreen Harbour

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Traits: Green Fiend, Vegetarian, Good

Generation rules / goals:

Your sim should be a vegetarian as soon as they hit their teenage years

As a teen your sims should also start their own garden and begin working on their gardening skill

Your sim should complete the Eco Innovator aspiration within their lifetime

Master the Gardening skill throughout your sims lifetime

Master the Juice Fizzing skill throughout your sims lifetime

Join and reach the max level of the Civil Designer career

Your sim should live as sustainably as possible for this generation, this includes owning a bee box, having a dew collector and recycling with the home recycling machine

Have your sim marry someone as Eco-friendly as you bonus points if it’s Knox lol

Have an at home, eco friendly wedding in your sims backyard / yard. Having the wedding cake be a honey cake, get creative with it!

Adopt an animal that’s not a typical pet (raccoon, fox, etc.) your sim found this little buddy while dumpster diving and bonded instantly

Gen 4: The Undecided

You grew up with a parent and grandparent who accomplished great things; they were sims who worked hard and stuck to their guns. You have always been..well a bit different. You can’t even decide what you want for breakfast, let alone pick a career or spouse. This makes you jealous of others like your parent and grandparent who you believe have their life together.

Aspiration: You must change your sims aspiration 3 times during their life but never complete one, not even their childhood one.

Traits: Non-committal, Jealous, Erratic

Generation rules / goals: 

Join and quit scouts as a kid; get about halfway through before you quit

Have your sim join at least two jobs as a teenager. They can join and quit more if you like

Get your sim to level 5 of at least three skill during their lifetime before they quit those as well

Change your sims career multiple times, making sure they never reach the top of any career

Get your sim married, and divorced...twice. It’s up to you whether you sim ends up finding someone to stay with. However, your sim must have only have one child from all of their relationships.

Have your sim have an affair during one of their relationships. It’s up to you whether the partner finds out about this or not

Your sim must lose their relationship with the Gen 3 sim (their parent) after a big fight over Gen 4′s jealousy issue. Your sim should never speak to that parent again

Your sim must never be best friends or true lovers with anyone; they are non-committal and that means no matter how much they care for another sim they feel somewhat unsure about every relationship

Gen 5: The Vampire Groupie

Your childhood was less than ideal, although your parent loved you they had a lot of their own problems and that left you pretty lonely at times. Your solace was a particular vampire movie about a sim who falls in love with a vampire. “That could be me,” you though, “That WILL be me.” So when you become a young adult you take everything you have and leave in search of your dream life in Forgotten Hollow, the only problem with your plan is that you’re just a bit squeamish... okay a lot

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Traits: Romantic, Family Oriented, Squeamish 

Generation rules / goals: 

Your sim should watch a lot of movies as a child and teen. Of course your sim loves that particular vampire movie that definitely doesn’t rhyme with Highlight, but really they love all movies

As soon as your sim becomes a young adult move them into Forgotten Hollow

Meet and start a relationship with a vampire of your choice; you can put a sim from the gallery in your game or date Caleb Vatore, Lilith Vatore, or even Vlad Straud if you want!

I think this goes without saying but your sim should be turned into a vampire for this generation lol

Complete the Master Vampire Aspiration

You can have any career for this generation, it doesn’t matter!

Master the Vampire Lore skill throughout your sims lifetime

Master the Pipe Organ skill throughout your sims lifetime

Start a ‘Vampire Club’ with only other vampires present, you can use this club to do any kind of vampire activity - however, since you left your old life behind, these sims are your only friends

Your sim is squeamish so they personally choose not to drink other sims blood unless absolutely necessary, this means your sim must grow and sustain a garden full of plasma plants

Once your sim obtains a plasma fruit (and two garlic) they can prepare a Sunlight Reversal Cocktail if they like, that way they can go into the sun during the day; this isn’t required though

Your sim must have at least three kids. One of these children should NOT be a vampire. This will be the heir. If all of your children are born vampires you can use a mods to make them human. I recommend MC Command Center, which you can find here: https://deaderpool-mccc.com/#/releases

I also recommend this mod: https://modthesims.info/d/589300/child-vampire-manifestation-v1-9.html which basically makes it so that child vampires can perform any vampire actions, just like teens, young adults, etc.

Gen 6: The Beach Bum

Your parents are absolutely wonderful, but are weird. In fact, you’re convinced that you’re the only sane one out of your whole family. You love them but who in the right mind would want to live the life of a vampire? You knew early on that the vampire life was not for you, and thank goodness you just so happened to be the only sibling born human! I guess you can thank those recessive genes. You want to live the Beach Life, spending your days out in the sun and working to conserve the beautiful island of Sulani!

Aspiration: Beach Life

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Loves the Outdoors, Free Trait / You can pick your sims third trait!

Generation rules / goals:

Your sim must move to Sulani as a young adult and spend their whole life there

Reach the max level of the Conservationist Career

Complete the Beach Life aspiration

Befriend as least one mermaid - your sim can become a mermaid to if they want but it’s not necessary

Marry someone who already lives on Sulani as well

Have your sim live in a house on the beach at least once during your their life

Complete the sea shell collection

Spend ALOT of time outside; fish, ski-do, tan on the beach - your sim loves the outdoors and the Sulani sun, anything they can do outside they will

Keep a close relationship between your sim and their parents & siblings - even though they don’t love the vampire life they love their family

Gen 7: The Tinkerer

You’ve always been a homebody, hanging out in your house on the computer and tinkering with things in the home. Your parent was always nagging you to go outside and play as a kid. As soon as you were old enough to hold a wrench you were fixing things. You knew when you became a young adult you wanted to go to Foxbury Institute and learn to program and create robots!

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Traits: Genius, The other two traits can be anything you choose!

Generation rules / goals:

* For this generation I ABSOLUTELY recommend this mod which shortens university. It just makes it sooo much easier to complete a degree: https://modthesims.info/d/646803/shorter-university-degrees.html *

Your sim should spend a lot of time inside as a kid, using the computer, reading books, playing video games

Have your sim complete the Whiz Kid aspiration as a child

Master the Logic skill throughout your sims lifetime

Master the Robotics skill throughout your sims lifetime

Master the Handiness skill throughout your sims lifetime

Once your sim becomes a teenager they should be the one who fixes ANYTHING broken within the household

In order for your sim to attend Foxbury Institute for a Computer Science degree your sim must have certain skills (such as computer programming, robotics, etc.) since it is a distinguished degree. You’ll need to work on these skills as a teen to have a chance to be excepted there. If you don’t feel like having your sim work on those skills as a teen your sim can attend Britechester University but they should still work on the robotics skill!

Complete the Computer Whiz aspiration

Graduate university with a degree in Computer Science

Live in a modern style house in any world

Gen 8: The Believer

Your parent has always been a technological genius, creating artificial intelligence. But you’ve always known that science wasn’t needed for there to be fantastical things in this world. No one else in your family believes your crazy ideas about alien but hey, you once heard that your great grandparents were vampires, so it could be possible! Sure you’re a little erratic but you’re determined to prove the existence of aliens, and befriend them. How will you do this? Well by becoming an iron pumping, rocket building astronaut of course!

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Traits: Athletic, Self-Assured, You can pick your sims third trait!

Generation rules / goals:

You sim must join and reach the top of the Astronaut career

Your sim must live in Oasis Springs

Have your sim complete the Body Builder aspiration - astronauts have to be strong after all!

Master the Rocket Science skill

Your sim will unlock a rocket when they reach level 10 of their career (the rocket can either be the Apollo Rocket - unlocked though the Space Ranger branch of the astronaut career, or the Retro Rocket - unlocked through the Interstellar Smuggler branch. You can choose which rocket you want)  but honestly who wants to wait for that, so as soon as your sim gets to level 5 of their career use cheats to unlock the rocket and start building!

Once your sim has completed their rocket you must level up their Rocket Science skill to level 10 and then install the Wormhole Generator upgrade. This will allow you to travel to Sixam and meet aliens!

Your sim must befriend and marry an alien they meet on Sixam. If you don’t like that particular alien you can either come back to Sixam or open CAS and edit them, either is fine.

Have your sim have a baby with their new alien spouse. Only have ONE baby.

If your sims baby is born NOT an alien you can use cheats to make them one. MC Command Center can be used for this and is linked above for Generation 5

Gen 9: The Star of Sixam

You’re an alien and you’ve proud of it! You loved listening to your alien parent tell stories of your home world and knew that when you grew up you wanted to make your relatives on Sixam proud. The best way to do this is of course to become the most famous alien musician the Sim world has ever seen!

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Self-Assured, Perfectionist, Music Lover

Generation rules / goals: 

Your sim must NEVER wear their disguise unless absolutely necessary - they are very proud to be an alien and they don’t see any reason to hide that

As a child your sim should complete the Artistic Prodigy aspiration

Master the Violin skill throughout your sims lifetime

Master the Piano skill throughout your sims lifetime

Your can have your sim master the Singing skill throughout their lifetime if you want, but it isn’t necessary

When your sim becomes a young adult move them to San Myshuno, where their musical dreams can really take off!

Have your sim busk for money in San Myshuno at least 5 times

Have your sim reach the max level in the Musician branch of the Entertainer career

Your sim should marry or be with someone who is also musically interested - you can enter CAS and cheat this or create your sims partner

It doesn't matter how many children your sim has for this generation, but the heir should NOT be an alien - you can use MC Command Center to make them human if you need to

Gen 10: The Apprehensive Actress / Actor  AKA the Final Generation!

You grew up in a VERY artistic household, with parents who were both interested in music and one parent who made a huge career of it. You love acting and knew your parent was ecstatic when you started showing interest in acting as a teen. Unfortunately you don’t really like the idea of being famous...

Aspiration: Master Actress / Actor

Traits: Loner, Good, Creative

Generation rules / goals:

Your sim is an artistic child, however we aren’t gonna worry about completing the Artistic Prodigy aspiration as a child because we did that last generation - you can do it if you want though!

When your sim becomes a teen they should begin working on their acting skills

Your sim should reach the max level of the Acting career

Have your sim master the Acting skill

Your sim should marry someone non-famous in a private ceremony with only those sims (or family and close friends if you like) present

Your sim should maintain as good a reputation as possible - they are still a good sim, they are just a bit anti-social

Once your sim finished the acting career and has achieved the Global Superstar rank they should retire

Your sim, now retired from acting moves to one of two lots in Brindleton Bay that have NO neighbours

They should spend the rest of their life making money off of artistic projects such as knitting, painting, etc.

Have your sim leave the house only when necessary to avoid the paparazzi, and if they do go out they must wear a disguise

Your sims spouse can have any career, but they should NOT be famous in anyway

It is up to you whether you decide to have your sim have children and continue the family :)

Well we’ve come to the end of the challenge!! I just wanted to say if you decide to play this challenge or even have taken the time to read it, THANK YOU SO MUCH! It means the world to me to be apart of this sims community ❤️

If you decide to play this challenge on your tumblr pleaseee use the tags #spicechallenge or #spice of life challenge. That way I can see what you do with this challenge, that would be amazing 😊❤️

[rax-writes]

More

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around You Neck

Bonus: Part 3

Relationship: Helmut Zemo x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight degradation, choking, slight metal arm kink - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Something was sparked inside you after Bucky let Zemo watch you two. Now you want to take it a little farther with Zemo but you also want Bucky there as a bit of a...guide. A/N: this was actually requested (see below)! I never, ever thought the original Around You Neck would be taken this far but it certainly has gone on a journey. You don’t technically need to read each part to understand this one but if you’d like to see the progression, please feel free. I hope this lives up to any and all expectations!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

As much as you didn’t totally want to admit it, you couldn’t stop thinking about Zemo. 

Ever since the sexual ventures you had partaken in with him and Bucky, your opinion on him had...shifted. While, no, you weren’t looking at him as some sort of romantic conquer (you were still very much dedicated to your boyfriend) you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like for him to join again. Maybe this time a bit more...hands-on.

Truly, though, you never thought you were actually going to act on these ideas. In fact, you figured you hid your wandering mind pretty well. Some sneaky glances at Zemo and brushes of hands weren’t much to raise any alarms, especially when you were constantly in close proximity with said person. It truly didn’t get closer than being in their literal home. But you forgot to take into account the fact Bucky wasn’t exactly of normal human nature. His senses were dialed up to eleven - especially when you were in the room. 

Your shameful confession came out one afternoon. Bucky had heard you giggle at something Zemo had said and nearly punched a hole through the nearest wall before grabbing your arm. While nothing crazy, he did throw you into the nearest room with some force, anger practically emitting from him in waves.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked once the room to the door was shut. You backed away, quite surprised by the outburst, as Bucky stalked towards you, seething.

“W-What?”

“Don’t try to blame dumb with me,” he scoffed, arms folded with a pointed look on his face. “Why are you making googly eyes at Zemo?”

“Googly eyes-,”

Bucky cut you off. “And laughing like he’s the funniest fucking person on the planet? What game are you playing here, dear?”

That goddamn nickname made you cringe. Ever since Zemo restored to calling you that during the intimate encounter, Bucky hasn’t let it go, using it like some weapon. 

You shake your head, trying your best to play this off. Sure, you had some words of explanation for your boyfriend but you didn’t want it to come out right now. “I-I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Bucky raised his brows in surprise. “So, you haven’t been shooting little glances at him? Or how about when your hand just so happens to end up on his shoulder? That’s definitely my favorite.” His tone was so lifeless. You gulped.

An awkward pause settled as you tried averting your gaze anywhere but at your annoyed boyfriend. This task proved to be impossible. “Bucky, please-,”

“You want to be with him, don’t you?” His question filled the room. “God, I knew this was going to happen. I never should’ve…”

You began shaking your head furiously. “Not in that way.”

“Not in that… Well then in what fucking way?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. You took a deep breath. “I think we should… We should bring him into our, um, activities again.”

The silence that followed your confession was nerve-wracking. You didn’t have the guts to look at Bucky, just standing there patiently waiting on his response. The longer he stalled the more foolish you felt like you had actually cheated on him when that wasn’t anywhere near the truth. 

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, just storm out or something, but instead, he let out a nervous cough and asked, “In what way would you- would you want him to join us?”

You slowly gather the courage to face your boyfriend again. He looked genuinely curious, lacking any sort of rage you had assumed would be present. No, instead, he appeared interested, not even mocking you in any way. This all made you feel quite more comfortable about the truth getting out. You took a moment to recollect yourself and get your pounding heart under control.

“Well… I can’t deny that I want to sleep with him.”

“I knew it-,”

“But,” your voice raised, cutting off Bucky, “I want you there to sort of, like, l-lead him.”

Bucky cocked his head. “Lead him?”

You nodded, taking a few steps closer to your boyfriend, practically as close as you humanly could. “Tell him what to do, how to please me. Only you know that, honey.” You chuckled, placing a light hand on his chest. “Picture it: Another man wants to ravish me, but you… Only you know how to get me going. Only you know what I want, how to make me squirm. Only you can teach him and wouldn’t that just be…” Your words trailed off as your eyes fluttered shut at the thought, a soft moan leaving your lips. When you opened them again, Bucky was searching your face with great intensity. 

“You really want this, don’t you?” He asked. You shyly nodded. Bucky took a moment before continuing, “You want to be watched while you get fucked again?”

“Bucky…”

He let out a dangerous laugh. “My naughty little exhibitionist,” he shook his head, a knowing smirk playing at his lips now. You couldn’t believe he was coming around to the idea but the fact he was made your core already so wet. “Okay, doll. Let’s see what we can do.”

***

Bucky had decided to take the lead when it came to bringing this up with Zemo. Still ever such the dominant figure in your relationship, he instructed you to wait in the guest room you had been lent while he approached the Baron. 

Amazingly, you didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, your heart was dropping as the door to the room was pushed open by Bucky. Zemo followed swiftly behind with an unreadable expression.

Both men stopped at the foot of the bed, right in front of you. You looked up at them, curiously.

“So - So did you explain…”

“James did enlighten me with your...desires,” Zemo said, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I must say, dear. You are quite the little minx.”

Your jaw went slack at his words, unsure of what to say. Only Bucky liked calling you that. But you certainly didn’t hate it rolling off Zemo’s tongue like that. 

“Maybe you should cool it with the pet names,” Bucky snapped. 

Zemo glanced at him. “I don’t know, James, she seems to enjoy it.”

You clenched your thighs, unable to deny it. Bucky didn’t miss that little movement but chose to not acknowledge it. 

“I’m taking the lead here and if I say no pet names then there are no pet names,” Bucky said, his voice slow and serious as he stared down Zemo. “Got it?” You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Nothing had even explicitly happened yet and there was already a puddle forming in your panties. 

“Very well,” Zemo eventually agreed. Slowly, right in front of you, he began removing articles of his clothing. This was happening. “How would you like me then?”

“I-,”

Bucky cut you off. “When you’re done, undress her.” Zemo didn’t say anything but just nodded, stripping down until he was in all his bare glory right in front of you. You tried to not stare, focusing instead strictly on his face which held the tiniest smirk, as he began teasingly running his hands under the fabric of your shirt. 

You couldn’t believe how hot you were finding this. Your control was pretty much gone, all solely in the trust of Bucky and Zemo. A diabolical pair. You obeyed when Zemo motioned for you to lift your arms. Within no time, you were totally open and bare in front of the men. 

Zemo’s hand lingered on your face, stroking your cheek softly. You gasped at the motions. He came close to running his thumb along your lips but then Bucky spoke up, “Enough. Lay her down.” 

Zemo didn’t waste another second pushing you back onto the bed. He was crawling on top of you in no time, not waiting for another command before capturing your lips with his. It felt like a brand new world. His movements in the kiss, deep and powerful, were so unlike Bucky’s. Bucky’s had meaning, years of love behind them. There was nothing like that with Zemo, just the understanding of what you’re here to do. It took your breath away. 

Bucky scoffed when you two pulled apart. “I’ll let that slide for now. Start warming her up, touch her. It won’t take much, though. Can already see she’s dripping onto the sheets.”

Your cheeks burned at the borderline degrading words from your boyfriend but Zemo didn’t look phased. Instead, while one hand was planted next to your head, his other began running up and down you. His fingers were so light and teasing. They ran over your breast, pulling lightly at your skin, earning a surprised gasp from you. Zemo looked quite pleased with himself as he continued, his hand now making its way lower on your body. He stopped just above the apex of your thighs, hovering temptingly.

“Touch her,” Bucky commanded, his voice strained and...needy? You didn’t have much time to think too hard about it before Zemo was plunging two fingers right into your core, the wetness allowing the easiest of access. You cried out in surprise earning a low chuckle from Zemo. He seemed quite amused by how vocal you could be.

“Feel good?” He asked, mockingly. His fingers curled within you as they pumped in and out, your walls clenching around them desperately. You nodded weakly. 

Bucky groaned. “Touch her clit. Now.”

Zemo happily complied. The palm of his hand began pressing against your clit with every thrust, forcefully. At one point, he stilled his fingers in you, giving your clit his full, undivided attention. You yelped, twisting at the overwhelming sensation of the fingering and circling. 

Pleasure was running through you at an almost unbearing amount. It all escalated when your head lolled to the side and your eyes fell on Bucky. He was leaning against the wall across from the bed, hands fisted at his side, erection clearly pressing against the fabric of his pants. His gaze was hard, his pupils wide. He was watching so intensely yet with just the littlest hint of wonder. It hit you - Bucky was starting to actually enjoy this.

Zemo, on the other hand, wasn’t happy he lost your attention. A rough hand came up to your neck, forcing you to look back at him. He roughly pressed his forehead to yours, not letting your eyes wander even in the slightest. All you could do was stare back at his eyes while he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. 

“Eyes on me,” Zemo gritted. 

“Watch yourself, Zemo,” Bucky snapped back.

Zemo’s grip on your neck got tighter and you were done for. That fucker really knew your weak points. The fingering was skilled but the grip on your throat... your body couldn’t take it all. You yelled out as your orgasm ran through you, your body jerking in response to it all. Zemo didn’t lighten anything up, though, forcing you to take it all until you were practically clawing at him, begging to stop. 

“That’s enough,” Bucky shouted. Zemo gave a dangerous chuckle before removing his fingers, licking each one as if they were a meal to be savored. But Bucky wasn’t close to being intimidated by the other man as he continued his commands, “I’d fuck her now if I were you. She’s getting antsy.”

“I think she’s always antsy,” Zemo sneered. “Maybe I want to make her wait a bit longer. Make her really cherish it.”

Your eyes were still forcefully locked on Zemo until Bucky stomped towards the bed and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, hoisting him away from you. His hand left your throat unwillingly. 

In a chilling tone you don’t think you ever heard from Bucky before, he whispered in Zemo’s ear, “I’m making the calls, Zemo, remember? You’re obeying me. If I say fuck her, then you fuck her.” He pushed the man back down, his head falling to the crook of your neck. When he regained his strength, Zemo pulled away to look at you. An unsettling smile played on his lips.

“As you wish,” he muttered and, in one swift, he entered you. Fully. No true warning. You gasped in utter shock at the boldness. You hadn’t expected it to take a moment or two for you to adjust to him. He was different from what you were used to with Bucky. Bucky had the length, but Zemo had the girth. He was stretching you in a whole new way and once you were past the shock, you soaked in all of it. 

Zemo just halted inside you, waiting for you to face him. You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed until you were being forced to reopen them. Once you gave a little nod - your way of begging at this point - Zemo began moving in and out. His pace was strong, so determined.

He must’ve seemed like a man deprived because Bucky barked out, “Slower. Now you can let her wait for it. Let her feel it. She gets so needy sometimes she just has to be taught some patience.”

Reluctantly, Zemo complied, slowing his motions. You couldn’t even imagine the power-high Bucky must’ve been on at that moment. But you didn’t have much time to think about it as Zemo began dragging his full length out of you and reentering slowly, just as instructed. You moaned loudly as the pleasure built. 

“You like that? Huh? Sure sounds like it,” Zemo grunted in your ear. “You make the prettiest little noises.”

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as you weakly nodded. But your chance to get lost in the sensations was interrupted by Bucky. Suddenly, he was at the side of the bed, his metal hand coming around your neck and turning your head to face him now. 

“Use your words, doll,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving your worn-out expression. Your body jolted with each of Zemo’s thrusts. Bucky paid no mind to the other man, keeping his focus on you and continuing, “Tell him how you’re feeling. It feels good, doesn’t it? Do you like having another man fuck you while I watch? I gotta admit, when you first brought it up I was hesitant but you’re right. There is something about knowing what you need. What makes your little pussy all fucking wet. He may be on top of you but I’m the one controlling your pleasure. You scream for me.”

“Yes, Bucky, yes” was all you could chant as everything began boiling up inside you. 

Here you were screaming one man’s name while the other pounded you. There was the hand on your throat - the metal hand. Zemo taking his sweet time delivering his thrusts. The little pressure on your clit every time he’d push in you. Both of the men were only paying attention to you… It was so much at once yet exactly what you needed. Within seconds of Bucky finishing his little monologue, you were cumming hard around Zemo’s cock. It must’ve triggered something in Zemo as well because he wasn’t that far behind. 

“Faster,” Bucky suddenly demanded. “Until she can’t take it anymore.” 

Zemo sure wasn't hesitating on this one. You felt him fill you fully while his thrusts didn’t falter. He was making sure you two were fucked good. You clawed at Bucky’s arm, wanting something to hold onto as you rode out the orgasm. He kept his grip on your throat tight and careful, watching you with those overwhelming eyes as you came on another man’s cock. 

After a couple more weak thrusts, Zemo gave a final strong one before pulling out of you completely, making you whimper. Zemo gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. Once calmed down, he turned his serious self once again and began reclaiming his clothing items. You couldn’t believe how he could just turn it all on and off with a flip of a switch as if you weren’t lying on the bed fucked out mostly because of him. But that was what you had felt from him. It was all just about finding pleasure. And you both were successful.

Bucky didn’t pay any attention to the other man’s actions. He was still locked on you. His hand had left your throat now and was now caressing your cheek. You giggled at the softness, such a stark contrast to just moments before. 

Fully dressed now, Zemo cleared his throat, pulling you and Bucky’s attention away from one another. You glanced over at the man. He nodded to you both. “Thank you for the...invitation,” Zemo said. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.” With that, he promptly exited as powerful and bold as he had entered. 

You were alone with Bucky now, unsure of what to actually say. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, doll?” Bucky eventually broke the silence. “Better than you could’ve ever imagined?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. His little tinge of jealousy was coming back despite being thoroughly turned on. Which reminded you… 

“I did enjoy myself,” you confirmed. “But I think I could have just a little bit more fun.” Regaining your strength, you shifted to a kneeling position on the bed. Your hand began creeping its way up Bucky’s jean-covered thigh to where his erection was still being strained against the material.

Bucky let out a low chuckle as your hand pressed over his covered cock. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh? My insatiable little girl.”

You blushed. “I just want to make sure you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

[valwentinefics]

I’m saving you - Dark!Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

A/n: Hey guys It’s your friendly neighbourhood Zemo simp Aur. Law class is kicking my ass big time so sorry this took so long for me to post. I really like dark Zemo so if you’d like to send requests that’d be really nice but I can’t promise they’ll be out fast! Also the gif on this just makes me go AAAAA. Not sure if I like this or not, but I loved the concept and it was a request so it’s being posted anyways.

Warnings: Zemo is basically a yandere, kidnapping and drugging, mentions of Zemo’s family’s death, past suicidal Zemo, swearing.

Word count: 1736

Plot: It was difficult for Y/n not to fall for Helmut Zemo and soon she would realize it would be even more difficult to get away. When she tells him he can’t protect her from everything he knows he has to find a way... even if his methods are unconventional. (Takes place during episode 4 of tfatws, cannon divergent and possible part 2)

Y/n laid in Zemo’s bed, her fingers gently tracing the small scars from knives and bullets that littered his bare torso. His warm earthy eyes watched her with soft adoration as she laid her head on his chest, sighing contently as his hands ran through her hair. This was something that happened often between the two and Y/n arguably loved it more than the sex that came before it. It was nice laying in the quiet. The only sound that filled the room was their breaths or Zemo’s occasional quiet and rough humming.

Y/n had been apprehensive about Zemo when she first met him. She had never before encountered him in person but he was a popular topic on the news when he was arrested and tried for what he had done. As a friend of Bucky she had originally been against the man, giving him harsh glares whenever he spoke or came too close to her, but eventually against her better judgement she began to develop a fondness for him. It was hard not to when he would talk to her oh so kindly with his beautifully articulate accented voice, or how he’d look at her as if she was the only person in the room when she spoke. His intelligence and various skills attracted her to him even more, and Y/n found herself falling for the man before she even had a chance to breathe.

She lifted her head off his chest and sat up, running a hand through her hair to try and fix it from the messy state it was in from their previous activity. Y/n sent a smile to Zemo, her arms in the air and back arching as she stretched before getting off the plush bed, walking around the room to gather her clothes.

“Where are you going, Liebling?” He asked sitting up, a few unruly bits of hair falling into his face. She was the only one he would allow to see him like this, soft and not well put together.

“Well, me and Bucky have plans to walk around and see if we can find out any information about the Flag Smashers.” She said casually, pulling on her clothes.

Zemo’s body tensed. “I’ll come with you.” He said as he picked up his clothes that had been discarded on the ground and putting them on as he found them.

“No, two people is enough, any more and it’ll look weird.” Y/n explained, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

“But what if you get hurt, you know what they’re capable of.” He countered, his eyes wandering over her face, filled with concern.

Y/n let out a soft laugh. “You know, you won't always be able to protect me from everything Helmut. I’m not fragile, have some faith in me.” She pressed her lips against his for a second before walking out, not seeing how his eyes hardened as her words sank into him.

Helmut Zemo had lost everything before he found Y/n. Formerly the leader of EKO Scorpion, a Baron of his country, and a father, Zemo had it all until it all came crashing down. Literally. When the dust settled upon Sokovia he wasn’t only looking at the ruins of his country, but of his life and everything he had achieved. After that he was consumed by vengeance and sorrow, dedicating what he believed and intended to be the last year of his life to avenging his late family. When he was put into prison he felt no joy for how his plan worked, only numbness as he waited patiently, anticipating his eventual death. However when Bucky assisted his escape and brought him to the mechanics where his eyes met Y/n’s, he suddenly found a reason to stay around longer.

Zemo ran his gloved fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched as he thought to himself. He couldn’t lose Y/n, she was the one thing he had. He had lost so much previously that even the thought of losing the one last person who belonged to him was almost enough to send him into a frenzied state. Y/n’s words kept echoing in his head, mocking him as he stood. He had to do something, he had to find a way to protect her from everything. 

-

Y/n laughed at Bucky’s joke as the two walked back into Zemo’s home, a smile plastered on her face. She was unaware of Zemo’s glare burning holes into where Bucky’s hand rested on the small of her back. Y/n didn’t see any issue with how close she and Bucky were, even leaning more into his larger body to steady herself as she slipped off her shoes.

“Y/n, how did it go?” Asked Zemo who laid on the couch, his voice sounding tense.

“Nothing productive.” She sighed, waving to Bucky as he quietly went to the room he was staying in. He didn’t like being around Zemo more than he needed to which she understood.

“You should have let me come along, I’m good at getting information.” Zemo said, standing up. His movements were smooth and confident. She admired how he always stayed and looked in control no matter the situation. “Would you like a drink Liebling?”

Y/n nodded in reply, heading to the couch and sitting by the arm rest, enjoying the simplicity of the situation. Just two lovers enjoying a drink together. It made her feel awfully domestic and she enjoyed it. In another life maybe they could have lived like this everyday, quietly enjoying each others company, but it was an unrealistic dream. She was a friend of Bucky and Sam, she would never truly experience peace and safety. There would always be a villain threatening someone, and Y/n would always have to help stop it.

Zemo walked back over, handing Y/n her glass and placing his on the coffee table, freeing up his hands to pull Y/n into his lap. They stayed in silence, Y/n enjoying the whiskey. She downed it quickly, noticing Zemo must have gotten her a different type than usual, it had an odd aftertaste but she didn’t mind it enough to bring it up. It was calming being with Zemo, so much so that her eyes grew heavy, and she leaned into his chest while letting out a content sigh.

-

The sound of soft music gently pulled Y/n out of her sleep, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright light coming from a window and falling onto her face. The place she was in was odd and unfamiliar. The realization that she had not fallen asleep here and her arms being bound tightly behind her back with a soft fabric sent waves of panic through her body as she jolted up, looking around the room. Where was Zemo and the others? Were they safe? The room itself didn’t seem dangerous, the furnishings similar to that of a nice hotel. It was tidy and well kept which almost made it more frightening than it would have been if it was dilapidated.

“Hello?” Y/n called out, moving to the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off as she was about to stand up when the door creaked open, revealing Zemo. Relief flooded her body as soon as she saw the man, instantly feeling a little safer.

“Helmut, where am I? Why are my hands tied?” Y/n looked at him questioningly.

Zemo smiled at her as he approached. “This is all to keep you safe.” He said, his hand tucking some stray pieces of hair behind Y/n’s ear as he stood before her.

His words confused Y/n. “What do you mean this is to keep me safe? Helmut what’s going on?” She struggled to free her hands. Something wasn’t right here. The feeling of dread ate at her stomach as she watched him.

He shushed her softly, his hand gently stroking the soft skin of her cheek. “Stop struggling, you don’t need to worry about anything anymore. I couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt any longer. I knew I had to do something, I can’t lose you too. Maybe I slipped something into your drink, I apologize for that. It was a necessary evil to get you here, where you could be safe with me.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she stared at the man in front of her, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon her. “Helmut, why the fuck did you kidnap me?” 

“Don’t look at me with such fear Y/n, it hurts me.” He frowned. “From the first time I looked in your eyes I knew you were different from the rest. You just have a quality about you, something indescribable that draws me to you. I was lost, suicidal, every day I spent waiting for death, until I looked in your eyes and found something to live for. The thought of you getting hurt… I just can’t even stomach it. You’re all I have and I can’t lose any more people I love.”

His words scared her, sending a chill through her body. “I won’t tell anyone if you let me go, I won’t leave you either. We can pretend this never happened!” Y/n pleaded desperately as her mind raced. 

Zemo’s hand tightly gripped her jaw in anger, his gloved fingers digging into her skin roughly. “Don’t speak like that, I’m risking so much for you right now, a little gratitude would be nice.” He growled, before exhaling, letting go as he calmed himself down. “Apologies, I suppose I do understand where you’re coming from, I know what it’s like to be locked away. Liebling, I promise to you that I will never hurt you. I’ll give you everything you could possibly desire. All I ask for in return is your love.”

A sob escaped Y/n’s throat, tears falling down her face. Zemo pulled her into his body as if she was made of glass, his arms tenderly holding her against his warm chest. “I want to go home.” She cried.

Zemo sighed. “This is your home meine Liebe. I’ll cherish and care for you. One day you’ll learn to appreciate it, and we’ll have a perfect family. You’ll thank me for this once you realize I’m saving you.”

[missjaystone]

Inescapable

Summary: Even in the middle of the ocean, your alpha manages to find you, even if it was an accident. Pairing(s): Alpha!Helmut Zemo x Reader Word Count: 3,640 Warning(s): NONCON! DUBCON! A/B/O Dynamics! Forced Claiming! Manipulation! Implied Stalking! Miscarriage mentioned! Death mentioned!

Everything around you froze when you looked up and met a certain pair of brown eyes, a certain sparkle when they looked into yours. The contact was brief before he was led around the corner by the Dora Milaje but it felt like it would never end. You worked on the Raft as a therapist to put as much distance between the two of you as possible but now that he was here, where could you go? The way he smiled at you as he walked by, it wasn't comforting like the first time you'd seen it, it made your heart stop in fear. It made his claiming mark on your neck throb in pain, a reminder of how much power he'd had over you before and how much he'd always have. It reminded you that he was your alpha, whether you wanted him to be or not. The man that passed by you wasn't the man you'd met, he was much worse.

The battle was over, your husband was dead, the child you were growing followed suit not long after you got the news, like he couldn't bear to even be born in a world without his father; you couldn't even blame him, you'd contemplated ending your own life to join your husband in whatever afterlife awaited. You'd just gone back to work after your allotted week of bereavement leave and another week of personal time. You weren't sure if you were ready to go back to work or not, but at the very least it would distract you. The first thing you noticed when stepping into your office were the pictures of you, your husband, and his family. You turned the picture frames face down before you could stare for too long, everyone in the pictures was dead; your husband, your mother and father in law, your two brothers-in-law, everyone.

Your first patient came exactly at 9:30 for their appointment. He was a brown-eyed brunette man of average height, dressed surprisingly nice for a therapy appointment. You greeted him with a soft smile and a handshake. "Welcome, Mr..." you trailed off so he could introduce himself. "Zemo," he answered, his thumb running over your knuckles gently before he let go of your hand and took a seat "Baron Helmut Zemo." "Would you like me to address you as Baron Zemo or Mr. Zemo? Or just simply Helmut if that would make you comfortable?" You asked him. "You can just call me Helmut, Doctor, but thank you for asking," he returned the same sad smile you'd given him when he came in. "Well, Helmut, I'm glad you came in. It's never easy dealing with loss and having someone to talk to is far better than bottling it up. I'm proud of you." He gave a single nod after looking around the office, motioning to the overturned picture on your desk "I thought my friend might be nuts to have referred me here but maybe you understand my pain better than anyone can." You smiled sadly at him "you'd be surprised at how many people understand." You saw his attention drift towards the sweets jar on your desk, holding it out to him "Turkish delight?" He smiled a bit more, this time a little more genuine as he took a piece out "don't mind if I do, Doctor."

After your first appointment, he came back twice a week. He told you about his wife and son, how much it hurt when he finally found their bodies amidst all the rubble. You asked him about his favorite memories with them, trying to make him remember the good times. You asked him about them; his wife's favorite flower or his son's favorite toy, encouraged him to open up about them. Soon he had you talking about your husband and the people you lost. It was amazing how effortlessly he tore down both your professional and emotional walls. He had you falling for him before you even knew you were.

For two months you tried every which way to talk him down off of his growing rage and hatred for the Avengers. You used everything you'd learned in school to make him understand breaking them apart wouldn't bring back his family or make anything better. At the beginning of the third month, he seemed to drop it, and you foolishly thought that was the end of it, that he'd seen reason. He'd slowly been getting bolder during your appointments, asking questions, each more personal than the last but only by a little. One evening, after seeing him for almost four months, he showed up about half an hour after your last appointment of the day, it was about a quarter of six. He was dressed just as nice as he always was, maybe even nicer "I hate to disturb you so late, doctor but may I take you out to dinner this evening? I'd very much like to thank you for these past months; I knew it's your job but I can't imagine what kind of troubled headspace I'd be in if I didn't have you to talk to." He'd asked so politely, how could you refuse? While you gathered your things, you missed the hungry look in his eyes. You missed the way they dragged over your body, the same way a lion looks at his prey. You'd be his omega soon. Whether you wanted it or not. You were his innocent, gentle little lamb and you needed to be protected from other wolves.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were at his favorite fine dining restaurant in all of Novi Grad. It was fun, the most fun you'd had in months since the battle of Sokovia and the heartbreak that followed. After that first dinner together, it became a more frequent occurrence, usually once a week after his appointment. You were smart, you knew how stupid it was to be dining with the patient so frequently. This professional relationship was becoming close and intimate. He had you on the hook before you could even realize it and pull away. As you began dining with him more, your guard fell. Helmut was no longer your patient, he was your friend, he understood your pains. You began dining together more frequently and then he introduced alcohol into the equation.

When you looked back at everything, you cursed yourself for being so stupid. How could you not see his plan? He was making you comfortable so it'd be easier for him to go in for the kill. Everything you shared with him would get used against you later. Helmut could play your mind like a flute and you let him, you gave him the tools he needed to find your weak spots and exploit them for his own benefit. If he'd crashed into your life and caused as much trouble as he had, you could hate him, but you let him in, welcomed him even and he made himself as comfortable as possible before finally taking what he came for.

Your first night together was gentle and slow, getting to know each other's bodies on such an intimate level. You turned your back to him afterward, eyes watering as the feeling of betrayal settled in the pit of your stomach like a stone. "What's the matter, malo jagnje? Did I hurt you?" He'd asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he looked you over worriedly. You shook your head, quickly wiping your tears before they hit the satin pillow sheets beneath you. "No, it's not you, Helmut," you whispered. "Then what?"  He asked, a worried frown on his face. "I just worry, it feels too soon, like I've already started moving on," you answered with a sniffle. "Nobody mourns the same, jagnje, it's different for everyone. You told me that," he assured you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling your back to his chest.

He repeated everything you'd told him whenever you got emotional. 'Sometimes the best way to honor someone's memory is to find new ways to be happy' 'you can't beat yourself up for being happy without them, this is what they would have wanted' 'nobody can ever replace them but you can't wallow in self-pity forever'. Every piece of advice you gave him was used back against you. The two of you had been seeing each other for two months before you stopped answering his calls and messages. He'd shown up at your apartment when you hadn't returned his messages, worried something had happened to you, that his little side activities trying to destroy the Avengers might have led to you being hurt or captured or worse.

He was relieved to find you alive and well. "You haven't been speaking to me, are you unwell?" He asked after you hesitantly let him inside. "I don't think I can keep doing this, Helmut, I'm sorry," you said in a shaky, quiet voice. His face fell in disappointment "what's the matter? Have I done something? Malo jagnje, please, you can tell me anything you know that," he pleaded, taking your hand only to have it slowly pulled from his grasp.

"It's not you, Helmut," you said as clearly as you could muster, wiping the tears that were already beginning to roll down your cheeks. "Then what is it, moj voljeni? What's happened?" He pleaded for an answer. "It was too soon, I can feel myself forgetting him and I don't want to. I don't want to forget all the time me and Christoph spent imagining and building our future together. I don't want to forget about the baby we almost had, that died inside of me almost as soon as he heard the news of his father's death. I don't want to forget everything he and I had but when I'm with you, I feel the memories slipping away and I'm not ready and I'm so sorry for that Helmut," you told him, sniffling throughout. He stared at you for a long moment after you finished speaking, not saying anything. When he finally did react, he approached you and pressed a kiss to your forehead "I understand, little lamb, and I'll wait for you." With that, he gave you a tight hug, rubbing your back comfortingly as you sobbed into his chest for a bit before he left. You went to sleep that night thinking about how lucky you were to have a confidant like Helmut in your life.

You remembered thinking that was the end of things. He took it well and things would continue as they were before you became sexually involved. No wonder he called you his little lamb, you were too innocent and naive to see the anger in his eyes when you told him you'd stop sleeping together. If you knew then what you knew now, you would have run from the hills, hidden at the north pole. You would have gone to the police and gotten a restraining order or hired a security detail. But you didn't do any of that. You were a lamb being led to the slaughter by no one other than yourself.

Helmut stormed into your office on a night he knew you stayed late to put the week's worth of notes away in their correct files. As fast as he'd appeared, he'd closed and locked the door behind him, watching your stunned form for a reaction. "Helmut?" You barely managed to get his name out before he'd crossed the room, pulling you to him and into a rough kiss. No matter how much you shoved his chest, he only pulled away when he was ready to. He effortlessly picked you up and set you on your desk, already positioning himself between your legs "I've waited for you to realize your mistake, jagnje, but I'll wait no more. I know you love me, омега, you're troubled mind is still reeling from the loss too much to accept it." "Helmut, I don't want this anymore, stop it," you shoved him away but it did little to dissuade him. It only angered him.

He grabbed your jaw tightly and made you look into his eyes; the pools of brown swirls had been replaced by black, lust-blown pupils of a... an alpha going through his rut. It sent waves of panic through your mind but waves of something else to your core. You whimpered when you felt your heartbeat speed up, reacting to the alpha's close, intimidating presence. "Helmut this isn't what you want, this isn't you," you tried to reason despite the rising panic telling you to run. He chuckled darkly "oh, little lamb, this is what I've longed for since before I stepped foot in your office. I caught a whiff of your sweet, scent when you visited the memorial all those months ago and I knew you'd be mine. You might not want to admit it, but your body knows you need an alpha like me to treat you right, keep you safe," he hummed as he ground the growing bulge in his pants against your clothed core. "Helmut-" you started, but his squeezing your jaw harder made you stop immediately. "You'll address me as alpha from now on, little lamb. I'd rather not hurt you but tonight I will make you mine by any means necessary, understood?" He asked, loosening his hold so you could nod, which you did hesitantly.

Pleased, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them and your underwear down, a smirk appearing on his features. He pulled your pants completely off and discarded them carelessly, holding your underwear up so you could see just how much you didn't want this; the flimsy black fabric already had a small amount of slick arousal on it. You watched in embarrassed shock and he brought the fabric close and sniffed it, a pleased hum leaving his lips as he tucked them into the pocket of his pants. "I think you do want this little omega, you want to please your alpha don't you?" He asked softly as his hand slowly drifted higher up on your thigh. "You aren't my alpha, Helmut," you said bitterly, ignoring the tears that stung your eyes as you glared daggers at the man you'd considered your friend and confidant. He snarled and dropped his hand to your neck, squeezing until the air barely flowed "but I will me, little lamb. And you'll be my perfect little omega, my perfect girl who'll give me the family we both crave and deserve."

His hand on your thigh finally came in contact with your core which was already soaked and ready for him. He hastily pushed in two of his fingers, curling them as he pulled you into a dominating kiss, nipping your bottom lip enough to bruise. Your denials were muffled by his lips and soon faded into pitiful, needy whines from his unwanted touches. He smiled darkly against your lips when he felt your body arch into him "see, омега? Your body knows what it wants, it's that big beautiful brain of yours that's keeping you down." You shook your head, trying to save any dignity you had left, which was none "I don't want this, Helmut, and I don't want you!" The words felt like acid coming up but his chuckle hurt worse. He was three fingers deep in your cunt, pulling whines and quiet, muffled moans from your lips, he knew you didn't mean that.

When he abruptly pulled his fingers out, you regrettably let out a disappointed whine, another, needier whine following as you watched him suck his fingers clean without break eye contact. It took .2 seconds for him to undo his belt and push his pants and briefs down, stroking his throbbing cock while he looked into your eyes. His hand still holding your wrist remaining just as tight. "I'll always take good care of you, my needy little lamb, you'll never want for anything ever," he promised, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead that didn't match the roughness he used to immediately bury himself to the hilt. He started off with a brutal pace, not giving you any time at all to adjust as he had before. His thrusts were purely animalistic, he was just an alpha trying to knot the omega in front of him amid his own release. He let you bury your face in his chest as an escape for now, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your life.

"See, little lamb? See how much you need your alpha to make you feel good, make you feel better than good?" He asked when you finally gave up on trying to mentally escape the moment. "N-not my alpha," you stuttered out in between the rough hammering of his hips. He snarled and bared his teeth, eyes darkening even more than you thought possible. "We'll see," he mumbled angrily. He tilted your head and moved your hair out of the way quickly, leaving no time for you to react before he sunk his teeth into your mating gland, his hips faltering a few times before his movements went from thrusts to more a series of rapid ruts as his knot began to inflate. Your pained scream was music to his ears, it was the sound of you becoming his omega, making it so no other alpha alive would dare to so much as breath on you.

When he detached from your shoulder, he again pulled you into a kiss, making sure you could taste the metallic taste of your blood on his lips while the feeling of euphoria from the bite coursed through your veins, reaching every last nerve ending. He let out a pleased groan when he felt your cunt strain around his knot as you came, sending him headfirst into his own climax almost immediately. His face happily buried in your chest as he rode out his orgasm, ropes of his cum painting your walls, reaching your innermost areas while you held onto him for dear life.

Your stifled sobs made him look up, a small frown on his face. "Oh, little lamb, don't cry," he said softly as he wiped your cheeks "I just want to keep you safe from all the wolves in the world, it won't always be this way." He ignored how hard your palm connected to his cheek "you bastard!" He gently picked you up and sat down in your chair, letting you curl up in his lap without dislodging his knot, smirking slightly when he heard your whimper at the shift in position. He soothingly rubbed your back as he held you close, comforting you "it's okay, омега, I'd hoped you'd accept us on your own terms but my rut came early and nobody else will do." You hated this; being reduced to your dynamic, to some cock sleeve for him to use as he saw fit. He'd bound you to him for the rest of your lives and there was nothing you could do about it now, so you curled into his chest and sobbed until you had no more tears.

You recalled the way he stayed with you for the rest of the night, comforting and tending to you. He'd return often, usually every other day to take you out somewhere for a date or just show up at your apartment to do it all over again. You couldn't put up much of a fight, once he was close enough, your omega side came out and you were putty in his hands. And he knew that, and he treasured it. He showered you in gifts; clothes, jewelry, wines, books, everything he could think of. When his visits became few and further in between, you hated the nerves you felt. You hated the way you wondered when he'd come back home to you. You were messed up, and it felt like it was all your doing. You broke your professional rules. You let him into your life. You told him everything he needed to know to get to you. You let him claim you. You were Baron Helmut Zemo's little lamb, and he'd never let you forget it, leaving bruises on your thighs and hickeys on your neck to show any and everyone you were a protected little omega, and woe to anyone who caught your alpha's wrath.

You then had to watch in horror as his actions became known on the news; he'd never given up his plot to destroy the Avengers. He'd succeeded more than he could have ever dreamed of and now, he was in jail. He'd be in jail for the rest of his life. It felt like losing your husband all over again, the pain deep in your heart hurt twice as much now. You practically had to go through detox to get used to life without your Helmut around you. You were still protected by his mark but you'd never get to listen to him shower you with praises while he cleaned you up after sex. You had to get used to a life without being on his arm and you hated yourself for craving his attention and companionship that you'd still claim to hate.

He smiled so happy when they stopped while waiting for the door to open. He spoke in Sokovian so nobody around understood him "izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo." "What'd he just say?" Your superior asked, looking between the two of you. You felt that familiar stone in the pit of your stomach, he'd have you doing his bidding in no time. You were already wrapped around his finger. You shook your head and looked at your boss "he's mistaken me for someone else." "Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje," Helmut said with a smirk before he was pulled away by a member of the Dora Milaje, leaving you with a wink.

-malo jagnje - мало јагње - little lamb -jagnje - јагње - lamb -moj voljeni? - мој вољени - my beloved -омега - omega -izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo - изгледаш прелепо као оног дана кад сам те погледао, јагње мало - you look as beautiful as the day I laid eyes on you, little lamb -Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje - Једва чекам да стигнем, јагње - I can't wait to catch up, lamb

[incorrectshantaequotes]

Shantae Plays Mario Party

((or: I did not have anything specifically themed for new years so uh. here's something))

((long and also extremely not my usual content so put under a read more))

The wind howled through twisted branches, bringing a chill along their shoulders. Lightning flashed from a storm brewing overhead, and somewhere in the distance, a cackle could be heard coming from above.

"...well, the castle definitely looks just as creepy in real life," Sky shuddered, looking up at Hypno Baron's former lair as she recalled her time in it - well, at least the version of it in Shantae's memories. "They couldn't have done at least a little redecorating?"

"Can't blame 'em for keeping it if it works," Bolo shrugged. "I mean, if I had a cool castle lair, I'd probably keep it the same..."

"And they did redecorate; I actually helped Abner with a poster during the whole Dynamo thing!" Shantae supplied to her friend. Sky blinked, a bit surprised at the new information, but nodded and let the half-genie continue. "Now, c'mon, let's go in! I want to see what Rotty wanted to show us!"

"Alright, alright..." Sky, seeing her friend's enthusiasm, smiled and knocked at the door, turning her head to address Shantae after. "I know you don't want to keep your girlfriend waiting."

"That doesn't-" Shantae began to protest, her cheeks reddening, before the door flew open and she was pulled into a hug by a very enthusiastic zombie, causing her blush to increase tenfold.

"Snackcakes!" Rottytops pulled back a bit with a large grin, giving her girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "Sky! Bolo!"

She pulled the other girl into a more casual hug, then walked over to Bolo to give him a fist bump. With greetings out of the way, she turned to face them all. "Glad you guys could make it!"

"So, uh..." Shantae tried to refocus, still blushing a bit as she shook her head. "What did you want to show us?"

"It's a surprise! So come on in already, unless you want to get soaked," Rottytops gestured to the inside of the castle as thunder cracked above them.

The three glanced between each other for a moment, then quickly ran in, the zombie girl closing the door behind the quartet.

"This 'surprise' isn't too far in, is it?" Sky asked, looking warily down the hall.

"It is, but you don't have to worry, becauuuuseeeee..." Rottytops paused, walking along the wall for a moment and inspecting every brick before stopping at just the right one. With a grin, her knuckles lit up with black and purple sparkles as she rapped it against the wall. Runes flashed, and with a rumble, part of it slid out and to the side, revealing- "Ta-da! A shortcut!"

"...There was a shortcut?" Shantae muttered, peering into the previously hidden passageway with wide eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Abner figured Hypno Baron didn't want to deal with the stuff he set up for anyone trying to break in, so he went ahead and started hunting for it after redecorating," Rottytops explained, leaning on the doorframe. "Real pain to find, lemme tell ya-"

"Has every evil villain had a secret shortcut all this time!?" Shantae held her head in her hands, staring blankly at the ground as she took in this new revelation.

"Oh. Uh..." Rottytops looked to the side as she realized Shantae's distress. "I mean, I don't think everyone did - do you really think Squid Baron could manage that? - and hey! Look on the bright side! You've been getting a lot of cardio through your adventures, so that's nice! Also, this shortcut does require a bit of dark magic to activate, so I don't think you could've managed to use it anyway."

"Oh. Yeah..." Shantae slowly nodded, pulling her head up as she regained her composure. "Thanks."

"No problem," Rottytops nodded, before looking down the passageway. "Let's get going before you have any other world-shattering revelations, okay?"

And with that, the four friends went into the depths of the castle, briskly trekking down the path in silence. After some time, Rottytops stopped the others, taking a moment to inspect another piece of the wall before repeating her trick from before. With another rumble, part of the passageway slid open, and she quickly slid in place to block the view of the entrance.

"Alright, you ready to have. Your. Minds. Blown? Because here it is..." With a dramatic flourish, Rottytops spun on her foot like a ballerina, stopping in front of the mysterious object before throwing out her arms in front of it and doing jazz hands. "Ba da da da, da da da da daaa~!"

Shantae blinked, walking into the room. "It's a...box?"

"Kinda looks like that monitor we saw at Siren Island," Bolo idly observed as he looked over Shantae's shoulder.

"Yeah, that's a pretty good comparison, actually," Rottytops nodded her head. "But first! Bit of context. So, my brothers were doing some interdimensional spelunking-"

"Interdimensional what now?" Sky peered at the zombie, disbelief tainting her voice.

Rottytops was completely unphased. "Interdimensional spelunking. Opening up random portals and pulling stuff out of it. Abner and Poe have been doing it for months."

"...why," Sky crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as her expression turned deadpan.

"Money, duh," Rottytops shrugged. "I mean, how many other places can say they have stuff that you can't get anywhere else and mean it? And since me and my brothers are the most adept dark magic users in Sequin Land who aren't downright evil, we might as well make the most of it, right?"

"I guess I can't argue with that," Sky begrudgingly nodded, shifting to a more neutral stance as she gestured for Rottytops to continue.

"A-ny-way...my brothers were doing interdimensional spelunking, when they ended up pulling this through," Rottytops gestured to the strange monitor. "Which was weird enough on its own, but the real crazy thing was this."

Her hands went to the small stand the monitor was placed on, searching in a drawer for a bit before pulling out a strange, smaller monitor a bit bigger than her hands. Pulling out two devices from the drawer, she snapped them to the sides of the monitor, before pressing a button and letting it light up. With a quick flip, she showed the screen to her friends.

"Wow..." Shantae stared at the screen in awe, before looking up at her girlfriend. "What is it?"

"I have no idea!" Rottytops grinned. "The labelling on the back says it's called a...nein-tehn-do switch, though. Weird name, but I guess it must work in whatever dimension this comes from. Here's the important thing, though - it lets you play games!"

"Really?" All three guests looked down at the "Switch," trying to figure out how it could accomplish such a thing.

"Well, I guess games isn't quite accurate, it's also like a stage show or something...but uh, yeah, I tested it with this one!" Rottytops pointed to one of the squares on the screen, letting her friends look at it.

"'Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion,'" Sky read out loud, squinting her eyes to try and see if she missed something. She didn't.

"Hey, it sounded funny to me," Rottytops shrugged. "I wanted to see the adventures of a weird food criminal, and I got what I asked! Also weird glowing green stuff, but I don't know what that was about. Must be a different dimension thing."

"Maybe that's what it runs on?" Bolo pondered, scratching his head as he thought about the inner machinations of Rottytops' surprise.

"Oh, I was about to get to that, actually, thanks for reminding me! Hang on..." Rottytops cleared her throat, setting the "Switch" to the side. "The one problem we found with it was that it ran on electric power. Thankfully..."

She went behind the monitor, and with a grunt, pushed something out that all of them were able to recognize - a generator. "We got that covered too!"

Bolo whistled. "Dang, your brothers really got the motherlode of stuff, huh?"

"Huh?" Rottytops blinked, looking confused, before snapping her fingers. "Ooooooooh, you mean the generator! No, that's something I scavenged from the wreckage of Ammo Baron's airship months ago. Got my brothers to help fix it up and everything. They had to call in a few favors, but we got it done. I felt really proud of myself when it got up and running up until I realized I forgot what I was planning to do with it in the first place. So, it just kinda sat there for a while. But hey! It's getting used now!"

Bolo and Sky nodded, but Shantae looked down at the ground, lost in thought, before looking back up at the zombie and pointing out, "I don't want to put a damper in all this, but...you do realize you probably could've just asked Uncle to help, right? He would've been cool with it."

"Oh," Rottytops looked at the generator, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed. "...yeah, that probably would've been easier than bringing in all those people to try and figure out electric power..."

"To your credit, it is pretty impressive that you managed to get it working without the tech expert on call," Sky offered, patting the zombie on the back. "But I think you were going somewhere with this?"

"Right! Right, I didn't even get to the best part!" Rottytops snapped back to her perky self, and stepped back to the monitor. "See, with a bit of finagling..."

She slid the strange devices off of the "Switch" and onto an oddly designed holder, before putting the strange little monitor back where it once was. Suddenly, the large monitor lit up, showing what they'd been seeing on the "Switch" moments before. "You can get it to show up on the big screen!"

"Woah," Sky's eyes widened, genuinely awed at the display.

"That's so cool, Rotty!" Shantae grinned, lighting up at the various possibilities in front of her. "Are we gonna take turns playing games or something?"

Rottytops chuckled. "Not quite...want to take a look to the left of Turnip Boy?"

Shantae tilted her head, a bit confused, but obliged, reading the name of the game out loud. "'Mario Party Superstars'?"

"Why did they make the guy in front old enough to be my dad?" Sky asked, looking at the mustachio'd man hitting a dice.

"No idea, but the important thing is, this really is a party, because you can play with multiple people!" Rottytops pulled out the drawers of the stand, pulling out multiple devices like the one she held in her hand. "Ta-da! You see where I'm going now, right? Come on, what could be more fun than playing a weird game from another dimension with your friends?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." Bolo tapped his chin in thought, looking down at the various controllers in consideration.

"Honestly, I thought this was going to be weirder. I'm game," Sky smiled, giving her zombie friend a thumbs up.

"And I won't turn down an opportunity to hang out! Let's do this!" Shantae pumped her fist.

"Alright, glad to hear it!" Rottytops stepped back to let her friends access the devices she laid out. "Just pick the one you like, sit down..."

"Wait, just...on the floor?" Sky asked. "Wouldn't it be more comfortable to have some pillows or something?"

"I...didn't think about that," Rottytops, looked down, a slight frown crossing her face as she considered Sky's question. "I mean, there's a couch over there, but that'd take a while to-"

She was interrupted by Shantae cracking her knuckles, looking at the couch in question. A sly smirk crossed Shantae's face. "One second..."

One dance and a trumpet later, the couch was moved into place. Shantae took a few lumbering steps back, the ground shaking under the weight of her elephant form, before turning back in a puff of smoke and dusting off her hands.

"Have I ever mentioned what a great girlfriend you are?" Rottytops remarked, putting an arm around Shantae's shoulder. "Because you are. You're the best."

"Aw, thanks!" Shantae beamed, giving the zombie girl a quick kiss before turning back to her friends. "Now, let's go play!"

"Uh- yeah! That, that sounds good..." Rottytops muttered, suddenly finding herself in a very similar position Shantae'd been in when she'd first arrived. "Just pick whatever, press the two buttons on the back, and you'll be in..."

The three nodded, and went ahead and grabbed their controllers. Sky grabbed the one that seemed like a completely different device altogether, a more complete version of what the holder of Rottytops' devices was trying to imitate, Bolo picked the one that was just one of the devices by itself, and Shantae picked the one to match her girlfriend.

By the time they picked, Rottytops had somewhat recovered, moving over to grab her controller with a grin. "Okay, cool! You got that covered. Thankfully, I went in and dealt with the boring things beforehand, so we can jump right into the good stuff..."

With a press of a button, the square showing Mario Party Superstars shook, and the screen transitioned into a selection of ten figures. "Pick your guy! Except purple. I called dibs on purple."

"Yeah, I think I'll let you have that one," Sky side-eyed the character in question - a strange, lanky man in purple who looked rather shifty; Waluigi, according to the text on screen - before her eyes landed on a character around the middle with a slight grin. "Oh, I like her."

With a click, her character was chosen.

"'Rosalina,' huh? Seems like your type," Bolo nodded, before turning his attention back to the characters. He looked at the various options in front of him, eyes lingering on the red man they'd seen before - apparently, the titular Mario - before... "Actually-"

He flicked the stick to the right and clicked. "I think I'm going with him."

"'Luigi'?" Sky looked at Bolo's choice, mildly confused, before going back to him. "Why Luigi?"

"I dunno, it's just - that Mario guy has front billing, right? He's on the front of the square and everything," Bolo pointed out. "I just think that being right behind him has gotta be a bit hard. Might as well give the guy a bit of appreciation."

"Hmm...yeah, that's a good point," Sky nodded, accepting Bolo's logic.

"Alright, I think I've got my choice..." Shantae looked just above Rosalina - a princess in a pink dress. Her finger hovered over the A button-

"Waitwaitwaitwait! Shantae. Pick yellow," Rottytops pointed to the right, and Shantae followed her finger to see a man in a yellow shirt and purple overalls, matching the shifty-looking man Rottytops picked.

Shantae looked to her girlfriend. "Why?"

"Because then we'll be matching! Come on, please?" Rottytops gave Shantae her best puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeeeeaseeeee? I'll pick orange to match pink next round!"

Shantae took a moment to consider it, looking up in thought. "...you know what? Alright, just for you."

She flicked over to "yellow" and selected.

"Wario!" The yellow-clad man exclaimed.

"Alright!" Rottytops cheered.

"Huh. Now that I hear him, something about that guy seems familiar, actually. Wonder why?" Shantae thought, examining the man more closely before shrugging. "Eh, probably nothing."

"Okay, let's get the party started!" Rottytops selected Waluigi, and the screen shifted to a different kind of selection.

"Are these...boards?" Sky observed the odd locales, taking note of the various marked spaces.

"Oh, yeah, I think this works like a board game or something. Let's see here..." Rottytops started clicking, shifting through the options. "We got the melons, space, cake, woods-"

"Wait, back up," Shantae interrupted, and Rottytops obliged with the half-genie's request, switching back to the cake. "There's a cake board? Oh, that looks so good...I'm feeling hungry just looking at it!"

"You want to do the cake board?" Rottytops asked, to which Shantae nodded with enthusiasm. The zombie looked to the two humans in the room. "Any objections to the cake?"

Bolo and Sky shook their heads.

"Cool! We're doing the cake, then!" With a grin, she hit the A button.

~~~

"Come on, come on..." Bolo watched the dice spin.

They'd settled on just going with the default settings after the board was selected, not sure what the game had in store for them. From there, they listened to the "Toad" explaining the rules (as much as Rottytops wanted to play blind), and had rolled to see the turn order. Unfortunately for Bolo, he got a 2, and therefore went dead last.

It seems his bad luck wasn't going away anytime soon, either, because he ended up getting a three.

"Ah, geez..." He groaned, watching as Luigi walked along the board.

"Hey, I'm sure you'll get a high roll next turn," Shantae reassured, patting her friend on the back. "Besides, you get to plant a strawberry! That's good, right?"

"Huh?" Bolo turned to Shantae in confusion, then looked back at the screen to see the prompt. "Oh. I guess I can. Sure, why not? Can't hurt."

With a click, everyone watched as the flying turtle accepted Bolo's payment, taking a second to throw down a seed that grew into...well...

"That's not a strawberry," Shantae numbly stated as she watched the teeth-bearing plant monster slink into the depths of the cake.

"Oooooo, that looks nasty," Rottytops commented, looking over Bolo's shoulder before raising her hand with a grin. "Good one!"

Bolo hesitantly completed the high five, unsure what to think of what just happened.

"Hey, looks like we're going to figure out what a 'minigame' is," Sky pointed to the screen, with the other three now realizing that it had shifted to some kind of roulette wheel.

"Oh, good! That really kinda confused me back there," Shantae remarked, recalling her earlier experience after the board was chosen. "I mean, they called this thing a switch, so I'm not too confident on how well things translate from whatever dimension this is from to ours. Like, mini game? What the heck could that even-"

With a little jingle, the minigame was chosen, and the screen shifted to an explanation.

"...oh. It's a game inside the game." Shantae blinked, watching the demonstration.

"All things considered, that's pretty straight-forward," Bolo commented.

"Yeah, yeah, let's see..." Rottytops skimmed over the text on the screen. "So, we just press the button to jump? That's it? This is easy! I mean, it's jumprope, so that makes sense, but-"

"It's also made of fire," Sky pointed out.

"So? What's a little fire among friends?" Rottytops looked between the others. "I don't think we need to practice this one, right?"

Shantae, Sky, and Bolo took a moment to consider. Shantae and Bolo ended up shaking their heads, and while Sky initially nodded, she switched when she saw she was outnumbered.

"Cool, cool," Rottytops hit start. "Just don't take this personally, alright? Because this may just be a game, but I. Play. To. Wi-"

Luigi, Rosalina, and Wario jumped as the flames rushed towards them, but it was too late for Waluigi.

"NO!" Rottytops cried out, reaching out a hand as Sky laughed. "I didn't-I didn't think it'd start that early! Can we get a do-over?"

"Maybe try not to talk yourself up so much next time, miss 'We Don't Need Practice,'" Sky smirked as she kept Rosalina jumping.

"You shush!" Rottytops sent Sky a mock glare before looking to Shantae. "Shantae! Avenge me!"

"I'm trying!" Shantae's focus was split between her controller and the screen. "Trying to adapt to a weird game from another dimension is not the easiest-shoot!"

"Six rounds, not bad," Bolo remarked as Wario was sent flying off the screen. "If it helps, it's kind of a...rhythm thing? You just gotta keep pace with the rope, and-oh. Good game, Sky."

"Thanks," Sky nodded, looking on as the game showed her total - 13. "So, practice next time?"

"...yeah, sounds good," Rottytops nodded, glancing at the saddened Waluigi lamenting his place.

~~~

"You got a star!"

Sky sat back, putting her arms behind her head. "Nice."

It was turn four of fifteen. A clear pattern had emerged: Sky was good. Really, really good. Rottytops was close behind once she started to focus on actually winning the minigames, and Shantae and Bolo...they tried. They really did.

Sky watched in satisfaction as Rosalina moved forward the remaining two spaces, then turned to Rottytops. "Your turn."

"Don't get a six, don't get a six, don't get a six..." Rottytops muttered as Waluigi's turn came around, closing her eyes as she hit the block. She opened them, and... "Dang it!"

A nine. Waluigi strolled along, ignorant to his coming plight, and as he finally approached that long-awaited star-

"ONE coin! ONE coin off!" Rottytops groaned, watching as Toadette informed Waluigi of his predicament and sent him on his way. Fuming, she turned to a smug Sky with crossed arms.

For the sake of curiosity, Sky had planted a "strawberry" the turn before. As Rottytops had the misfortune to discover right after, it turned out the ravenous plant stole coins, leaving Rottytops a bit short of change.

"I totally could've gotten that star if there was a way to haggle in this game..." Rottytops grumbled, letting out a huff.

"I'm sure you could've, but you can't, so," Sky shrugged, completely unbothered as Waluigi landed on a Lucky Space. "Tough break."

"Seriously, how are you so good?" Shantae asked as her turn rolled up. "Like, I'm the one who goes on adventures all the time; my reflexes are great! But you beat me and everyone else every minigame!"

"Ever try to raise a dozen birds at once?" Sky asked in response, pointing to her gloved hand as she flexed her fingers. "Gotta get quick with your hands fast, I'll tell you that much."

"Yeah, yeah," Shantae nodded as she hit the dice. "Just saying...me and Bolo aren't doing great, but we're still getting coins. And Rotty was really close to getting that star up until your plant stole her coins! So you might not want to get so comfy yet..."

"Well, obviously, it's only the fourth turn," Sky remarked, stretching a bit as Bolo's turn came around. "I'm not comfy just yet...but I do think there's a pretty good chance I can keep this going. Even when you do get some stars of your own, I'm still going to be ahead - I mean, what are the odds that you'll just...I don't know, find a star out of thin air?"

"Hey, why's it not moving to the minigame?" Bolo suddenly asked, looking at the screen in confusion as Luigi looked up in the air, seemingly at nothing. But then, a golden brick appeared above him, dazzling and utterly pristine.

"Oh, hidden block!" Rottytops perked up. "I just got a card for that, actually. I think it just gives you more coins."

"More coins is always good," Bolo nodded, hitting the A button and watching the screen in anticipation. Luigi hit the block...

"You got a star!"

And everyone watched the screen in disbelief.

"What were you saying, Sky?" Rottytops smirked, thinking back to her hidden block card with a newfound glee as Sky looked to Bolo with wide eyes.

It seemed luck had a bit more to do with this game than she thought...

~~~

"What the heck is Chance Time?" Rottytops questioned, scratching the back of her head as the screen faded to a new scene.

It was turn 7. Shantae had managed to get a star of her own, and Bolo had been close to getting his second, but Sky had stalled with a Cursed Dice - which was just enough for her to get back in front of him. As for Rottytops...the hidden block card had only given her coins, much to her disappointment, which only grew as she found herself facing Bowser (some sort of giant turtle, as she soon discovered) thanks to picking the wrong seed. She did perk up a little as she realized she had a shorter way around, but it didn't really do so well when she was rolling low.

Now, she found herself staring at a set of slowly spinning dice, utterly befuddled.

"Did the mushroom guy say anything about this?" Rottytops looked to Sky.

"Can't remember..." Sky frowned, looking over the screen. "Looks like he's saying something about it now, though, so-"

"Eh, whatever, I'll just see what happens," Rottytops dismissed the text, then let the center dice roll for a bit before hitting it. "Ooooo, coins! What's with the arrows, though?"

"...wait," Sky looked at the other dice, the pieces beginning to click into place as Rottytops walked over to the right dice. "Wait a minute..."

"And I get-Sky?" Rottytops rubbed her eyes, having a double take over the results before something clicked in her head. "Oh! Ooooooh..."

The zombie girl began chuckling as she maneuvered Waluigi over to the left dice.

"There is no way," Sky started, ignoring how Rottytops' chuckling grew louder. "There is no way-it's just dumb luck! There is no way-"

"Oh, Sky," Rottytops turned to her friend, a downright evil grin stretched across her cheeks. "Have you not heard? Have my brothers not regaled you with tales of Caravan Game Night? I,"

She twirled her controller in her hand.

"Am the QUEEN,"

She raised her thumb.

"Of DUMB LUCK!" Rottytops pressed down, and as if by magic, the dice landed on a familiar thin face with a purple hat.

"My Star!"/"YES!" Sky despaired and Rottytops cackled as the coins were exchanged, leaving Sky at seventeen and Rottytops at 42. "Feel it! Feel my pain, Sky! It may not be the same bite, but it'll certainly leave a mark!"

"I can't believe-" Sky put a hand up to her face, shaking off her frustration with a determined glare. "Whatever. I can come back from this. I can come back from this..."

"We'll see about that," Rottytops smirked, a new plan formulating in her mind...

~~~

"We're down to the last five turns!" The mushroom-headed "Toad" explained, text scrolling across the screen for the four friends to read. "Let's take a look at the current standings."

"In first place, we have Rosalina!" Sky smirked, watching as her stats appeared - four stars. In a turn of events, she'd ended up finding a hidden block herself, which raised her star count by one. With another minigame under her belt, that was enough to put her in the lead when she got her star. Then she'd discovered what growing her "strawberry" did - mainly, taking a star from someone else.

"In second place, we have Waluigi!" Rottytops couldn't help but grin as her own stats came into view. While there was a two star gap, she had the lead in coins thanks to a certain fishing minigame called Cast Aways, as well as a "strawberry" of her own. 87 coins was definitely nice to have.

"In third place, we have Wario!" Shantae wasn't necessarily the best at this, but she'd managed to get two stars, so she thought that counted for something. Still, she couldn't help but look at Bolo with slight remorse as his stats came up.

"And in last place, we have Luigi!" Not by any fault of his own, but a stroke of bad luck - he'd been the unfortunate victim of Sky's grown plant creature. Not helping was a roll that had landed him directly onto a Bowser space, giving him a meeting with the talking turtle himself. It was only a few coins, but...

"Ah, man," Bolo groaned as the text scrolled by.

"It's not that bad," Shantae reassured, offering her friend a small grin. "I mean, we've all played this game for a bit, right? There's always room for a lucky break!"

"Pretty sure that was the hidden block from before," Bolo deadpanned. "Definitely wasn't last turn..."

"Hey, I was aiming for Sky!" Rottytops protested.

"You can't aim a Warp Block," Sky reminded her.

"I was aiming for you spiritually," Rottytops added, unamused by Sky's comment.

"Ah, don't mind them," Shantae waved the two off. "You'll be fine! There's always another...hey, I think the game's giving you something."

"Wait, really?" Bolo stared in shock, his attention turning towards the screen once more as he now noticed one of the cloud-riding turtles handing him an item. "Huh, so it is."

"Wait, that looks like-" Rottytops squinted as the item text slid in, eyes widening as she took it in. "Triple dice? Oh, that's good. That's really good. Bolo, roll high enough and that's essentially a free Star!"

"Hey, yeah..." Bolo nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he gazed up.

"See what I mean?" Shantae's grin widened as she lightly punched Bolo in the shoulder.

~~~

"Alright, minigame time!" Rottytops cheered as the roulette wheel came up again to end turn 12. "Think we can get the balloon one again?"

"Please don't remind me about that..." Sky groaned, grimacing as the recent memories of Bowser Blast came to her head. By far her most embarrassing loss. "I still think green being safe three times in a row was a statisti-wait, why does this one have a warning?"

As the others looked to see what she meant, there was a flash behind them.

"Alright, I'm back! Really appreciate the lavender soap, Rotty," Shantae gave a nod towards the zombie girl as she flicked off any remaining moisture from her hands. "Did I miss anything? Oh, it's a one vs. three. And...ah, geez. Rotty, I'm sorry-"

"Hey, all's fair in love and war, snackcakes," Rottytops, the designated "one," waved away her concerns with her hand. "I mean, you noticed me targeting you before in the minigames, right?"

"Well, yeah, but so was everyone," Shantae explained as she sat down. "These kinds of minigames just feel mean..."

"Mercy is for the weak in this game; don't know what to tell you," Rottytops jokingly answered, patting her girlfriend on the shoulder. "How about you just go and read the rules, alright?"

Shantae gave an affirming "hrm" before looking up at the screen and letting her face scrunch up in confusion. "Why does this one have a warning?"

"Says something about not using your palm," Sky informed, having looked over the warning in question.

"Yeah, that sounds like it'd give your hand blisters..." Bolo nodded.

"Wait, aren't these the same controls as that fishing one?" Shantae asked, prompting all of them to take another look. While not exactly the same, there was a similar control scheme in the rotation. "Why didn't that have a warning?"

"Huh..." Sky took a moment to think over Shantae's question. "You know, looking back, I think...I think it did, actually, but Rottytops pulled us into practice too quick to see it."

"You know, I thought I saw something weird out of the corner out of my eye," Rottytops nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Uh...sorry about that? But no harm, no foul, right?"

"Yeah," Shantae affirmed, "As long as we don't try it now...right?"

"Uh, sure! Sure, I can do that," Rottytops quickly gave her girlfriend a thumbs up and a grin. A bit too quickly, judging by Shantae's suspicious stare, but she let it slide as she pulled out practice mode.

It went by without too much fanfare - Shantae, Sky, and Bolo won all three times they went through it, but there was no palm shenanigans, so all was well. Seeing as they clearly got the ropes of it down, Shantae was satisfied enough to pull them into the real deal.

As soon as the game said "START!," it all went downhill.

"What the-" Shantae couldn't help but be taken aback as almost immediately Wario, Rosalina, and Luigi were close to getting eaten. A loud clicking at her side, however, was just as quick to give it away. "Rotty, no!"

Rottytops simply laughed, palm swiveling away with her joystick. "My power is unlimited!"

"Okay, normally I appreciate your humor, but I'm actually kind of concerne-" Shantae was interrupted by more clicking, and she turned in wide-eyed shock. "Sky!?"

"If she's going all out, so am I," Sky levelled a glare at the zombie sitting across from her. "Just try and take these coins from me!"

"That's the spirit!" With a wide grin from Rottytops, both girls swiveled as fast as they could, a tense air between them as their hands moved as fast as they could.

"I-Wh-" Shantae looked between the two, caught completely off-guard by this showdown, before her eyes settled into a glare and she promptly whacked both controllers out of the two rival's hands. "You two stop that!"

"Hey-" Rottytops and Sky tried to protest, only to be quickly silenced by an angry glare.

"Look, I get you two are competitive, I really do...but I draw the line at risking your hand to win a game!" Shantae crossed her arms.

"I can just replace my hand," Rottytops pointed out.

"And I have a glove," Sky held up her hand, pointing to the glove in question.

"That is besides the point-" Once again, Shantae found herself interrupted, but not by clicking this time. Instead, it was the cheerful victory jingle of the game, and all three turned to stare at Bolo, who'd simply kept playing the whole time.

"Uh...sorry. Probably should've paused, huh?" With a light blush, Bolo looked to the side. "That was not the best timing."

"...no, I...I think that was good, actually," Sky started, looking at Shantae with a blush of her own. "Sorry about that, I don't know what came over me. I guess that was pretty intense for a game...won't happen again."

"Yeah, this is a pretty nice hand," Rottytops admitted, looking down at the palm she used with the joystick. "So, I'll try and dial it back for you, alright, snackcakes?"

"Good," Satisfied, Shantae picked up their controllers and handed them back as she went to her own.

Rottytops and Sky took a glance at each other as Shantae sat down. Discreetly, Rottytops leaned her head back.

"Try again with thick gloves?" She mouthed to Sky.

Sky nodded. "Try again with thick gloves."

At least they wouldn't get blisters.

~~~

"Come on, Shantae, you got to pull it now!" Rottytops urged, looking at the screen. "You're not going to get another chance!"

It was the final turn. Sky and Rottytops had already gone, leaving Shantae as the last one left. Wario was just below the top layer of the cake, five spaces away from the star. Luigi was a few spaces ahead, on the cake itself. Shantae mused over the situation, looking at her menu.

"...you know what?" Shantae smirked, looking at Rottytops as she pulled out what she wanted to see - a set of Triple Dice, one she'd gotten from a Lucky Space but a few turns ago. "Why not. It's the last turn - go big or go home!"

"That's my girl!" Rottytops cheered as the dice were selected, Shantae concentrating as they began to spin.

9...8...7!

"Twenty four! Nice!" The two shared a high five as Wario went forward. A star was obtained, he went on his merry way...only, there was one last turn of bad luck at the lottery.

"Noooooo..." Shantae groaned as the flower turned up Bowser. "Guess I'm getting a cake, huh?"

"Coin loss won't be too bad - it's the last turn, what's the worst that could happen?" Rottytops supplied. With a begrudging acceptance, Shantae went on. Wario did indeed get a cake, and as he took those last four steps, something clicked in Rottytops' brain.

"Hey...isn't that-" Wario landed on a blue space with yellow arrows, and Rottytops' suspicions were confirmed. Shantae and Sky both froze in terror as a screen only seen once before was pulled out again.

"Oh no," The two friends muttered with dread as Chance Time came up.

"Oh yes!" Rottytops grinned, bouncing on her heels in anticipation. "Come on Shantae, aren't you excited? This is your chance to win everything!"

"Or lose it..." With a gulp, Shantae headed to the center dice. "But, I mean- there's all the random coin counts, right? Yeah, just some of your coins...what are the chances that I-"

She hit the dice.

It landed on a star with opposing arrows.

"Oh no," Shantae repeated, Rottytops howling with laughter as Sky paled.

"Get Sky, get Sky!" Rottytops insisted, arms pumping with enthusiasm.

"Do not get me, do not get me-" Sky looked to Shantae, desperately gesturing for her to abort. "I am begging you, as your friend, do NOT get me!"

"I don't know how to avoid getting you!" Shantae protested.

"Just try!"

With a hesitant nod, Shantae walked over to the right dice, and let Wario jump.

Rosalina.

"SON OF A-" Sky's curse was cut short by Rottytops collapsing onto the couch with laughter. The human girl attempted to glare at her, but ultimately it just led into a weary sigh. "...whatever. Just - get it over with. As long as it's not Rotty..."

"Uh..." Shantae looked to her partner for input, and after an attempt to stifle her laughter, she managed to say-

"Oh, I don't care at this point! I didn't think this would even show up again!" Rottytops remarked, her cheer evident as she looked up at Shantae. "Just go for it! Go-Go hit that lucky dice!"

"...aren't you guys being a bit overdramatic?" Bolo couldn't help but ask, looking at the zombie and bird handler as Shantae maneuvered Wario to the left. "I mean, it's just a dice roll. It could be any-"

Wario jumped. Luigi.

"Oh," Bolo blinked, staring as he and Sky swapped stars. "I will admit, I wasn't expecting that."

"Honestly, you kinda deserve it, after all that bad luck," Rottytops chimed in. "Looks like you finally got that lucky break!"

"I guess so," Bolo nodded as the screen transitioned to his turn. With a quick roll, Luigi got a 2 - just enough for another star. He smiled. "I guess so."

~~~

"And the Superstar is...Luigi!"

"Good game, Bolo," Sky gave him a small smile as the screen transitioned to a static photo.

"And you did great too, snackcakes!" Rottytops pulled her arm around the half-genie. "I mean, that last-minute sightseer bonus? Who could've seen that coming!"

"It was just dumb luck..." Shantae looked to the side, blushing from the attention. Shaking her head, she looked to Rottytops with a slight smirk. "And you're not the slightest bit disappointed, miss play-to-win?"

"Well, I still got another shot," Rottytops returned the smirk, twirling her controller. "I do owe you a round as orange, don't I?"

"Oh yeah!" Shantae snapped her fingers. "I kinda forgot about that...hey, you guys up for another round?"

Sky and Bolo both nodded.

"Great!" Shantae looked to Rottytops, and with a nod, the zombie girl began to navigate the menu. "What board should we do this time? I was thinking those islands..."

[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!yunho

aristocrat!yunho x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

trigger warning(s): description of an anxiety attack, brief description of death, memory loss. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: i swear this wasn’t supposed to be this long sdkjflds

none of the pictures are mine!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

eldest son of a duke

okay, so

among nobility, the jeon family are well respect but considered to be a bit,,,eccentric

they adhere to all the social expectations expected amongst nobles, but their attitude towards non-nobility is what sets them apart

though most noble families are polite when interacting with non-nobility, they generally try to keep their distance; avoid their company, if possible

not the jeong’s 

it wasn’t unusual to see duchess jeong knitting in her tea room with maids, merchant’s wives, or whoever else wanted to come

to see gunho running around with his friends, a pack of street urchins, low, and middle class children

to see yunho in the market helping one of the many older couples haul their cart into place

his family had managed to find the delicate balance of being “normal” enough not to suffer social ostracization, yet “odd” enough for people to dismiss their “peculiar actions” as “typical jeong behaviour”

now, onto the loml yunho

perfect gentleman pt. 2

extremely charming and a great conversationalist

no matter how awkward or shy the other party may be, yunho has this way to draw them out of their shell

(just ask mingi)

excels physical and hands-on activities (i.e. hunting, horseback riding, swordsmanship, etc,,,)

average in terms of book smarts

so while wasn’t about to lead the next technological revolution, he wasn’t “stupid” either

rather, i’d argue that yunho’s brilliant in non-traditional ways

his quick wit and ability to think on his feet is part of his charm

but his greatest strengths are his observational skills and emotional intelligence

able to discern people’s emotional state easily and quickly

he’s someone who’s kind, bright, and genuinely cares about other people’s problems (sometimes a little too much)

a natural leader - people tend to flock towards him

between him and mingi (who despite not acting like it, is extremely book smart), they’ve got all bases covered

(+ yunho’s willingness in using unconventional methods to gather information)

that’s actually how he met you

or rather, “found” seems more appropriate

see, he has an excellent rapport with the street children

being six foot one and offering shoulder rides does wonders

and because he wants to stay updated on what problems the people around him are dealing with, he gets the children to “report” to him if they find or hear anything unusual

(the children are more than eager to play spy, especially when there’s candy involved)

one day while taking a stroll, one of his kids ran up to him totally out of breath

he wheezed something about a “mysterious lady” before grabbing yunho’s hand and dragging leading him to an alley quite far away

to say he was surprised was an understatement

most of the time, his kids brought amusing but mostly useless information to him

(even if he is more than content listening about the cute squirrel they fed earlier that day)

usually they didn’t lead him to an unconscious woman lying in the middle of an empty alley

(yes, that’s you)

hurrying to your side, he drops down and checks to see if you’re alive

other than being unconscious and getting some dirt in your hair and on your clothes, you seemed to be okay

gingerly scooping you into his arms, he tells the little boy to fetch the doctor and bring him to the jeong manor

fast forward a couple hours and you’re roused from your unconscious state by the sharp smell of ammonia mixed with lavender

blearily, you rub your eyes and blink once, twice, before your vision finally clears

then panic

you don’t recognize where you are or the two faces that hover by your bedside

sensing your anxiety, yunho smiles warmly speaks in a soothing tone

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re in a safe place. my name’s yunho and this is dr. adley. i found you unconscious in an alley.”

and though you’re very confused and still mildly unnerved, you can tell this yunho guy is genuine

“,,,okay.”

so you settle into the (extremely comfortable) four poster bed and let the doctor examine you

except now it’s time for panic pt.2, but ten times worse because why the hell can’t you remember anything?!

you can’t even remember your own g*d damned name !!

to make things worse, there doesn’t seem to be a reason why you can’t remember anything

no bumps or injuries anywhere on your body

and chances of a robbery gone wrong, a kidnapping, or a failed assassination attempt were very unlikely since you were dressed in commoner’s clothes

disquieted by your alarm and the doctor’s confusion, yunho slips out of the room and returns after several minutes

the doctor, offering apologies to both you and yunho, says he has no idea what’s wrong or what could’ve happened to you

all he can suggest is to rest and hope that your memories eventually come back to you

your burry your face into your hands, a whirlwind of frustration, confusion, and fear brewing in you

apparently nobody, including yourself: 

knows who you are, 

where you came from, 

why you were unconscious, 

and why you lost your memories

to top it off, you have no money

.

…

just when you were about to idk,,,scream and/or punch something-

you feel two large hands engulfing yours, lowering them from your face

taking a seat on the edge of bed, yunho offers a faint smile as he idly traces lines from your wrists to your fingertips

a surprisingly soothing gesture

“,,,i know you’re overwhelmed right now, but please don’t feel as if you have to do this on your own. i talked to my mum and dad; you can stay here until either someone finds you or your memories return. in the meantime, we’ll help you out as much as we can, yeah?”

and though you’re in no position to argue, your first instinct is to decline because though you’re amnesiatic, you still have common sense

what kind of family, wealthy or not (actually, especially wealthy), lets a complete stranger stay in their house?

do these people have no sense of danger?

but yunho is as stubborn as he is kind, and this was how you ended up staying with the jeong’s

(you insist on working to earn your stay, much to yunho’s dismay. in his head, unless it helped in recovering their memories or, unfortunately, was necessary for survival, who would make an amnesiac work?)

the first couple of days were awkward

duke and duchess jeong had briefed everyone in the manor about your situation, but when making casual conversation, lapses in memory and uncomfortable silences were inevitable

“oh, i adore this purple! hey, what’s your favourite colour?”

“,,,i uh,,, don’t know.”

“,,,i’m so sorry-”

but awkward has never a problem for yunho, and you quickly grew fond of the gentle giant

“since we don’t know your name, can i call you little sun? since i found you on a sunny day and you’re little-”

“yunho, not everyone can be six feet tall”

“six one, actually”

“,,,”

true to his word, he does his best to help you recover your memories

roped mingi into helping

when you finished your tasks for the day, he’d bring you to all sorts of places, trying all sorts of things

on a hunting trip with yungi, you discovered that: a) you’re proficient in horseback riding, b) you have astounding aim, and c) you’re surprisingly agile

yunho, who’s always been penchant towards athleticism, was delighted to have someone to compete with

mingi just grumbled. sure he was clumsy, but how did someone with no memory beat him?

while helping the gardener, you found out that you have a rather extensive knowledge of flora

yunho jokingly (kinda) suggested that maybe you were a huntress

mingi bombarded you with questions and quizzes about plants

find out what kind of plant you are by decorating your dream room

hoping that you’d run into someone or somewhere familiar, yunho would take on walks all over the city

during your walks, you learned that you preferred nighttime (while he preferred the day), that you found solace in being alone (while he preferred company), that you liked sweet things (while he preferred chips)

a month,

two,

six months passed liked this

you made progress, but you couldn’t stop the bitterness from bubbling in your chest; negativity spreading through your veins like toxin

sure, you consider your favourite colour to be a precious memory in its own right

but who cares about what your favourite colour is when you can’t remember your own name?

you were vexed by the fact that, at this point, you know more about yunho than yourself

even if learning about him made your heart flutter

just a little

and the nightmares

the nightmares

they drove you crazy

you never remembered what you’d dream of, but every night, without fail, you’d wake with tear stained cheeks and sweat soaked clothes

tonight was particularly bad

normally, when you woke, you’d force yourself to take several deep, calming breaths until your breathing evened, grab a glass of water, then crawl back to bed

today, you couldn’t breathe

no matter what or how hard you tried, your heart wouldn’t stop pummeling against your ribcage;

your blood wouldn’t stop rushing between your ears, creating a cacophony no one else could hear;

wave after wave of nausea would slam into your gut

your vision’s blurring

oh god

you’re gonna pass out

you’re gonna pass out and forget the memories you worked so hard to remember and all the memories you made and you’re gonna forget yunho and mingi and-

suddenly, much like the first day, two large hands engulf your own, idly tracing lines from your wrist to your fingertips

“little sun, it’s me, yunho. your yunho. focus on my hands and voice, yeah? i’m right here.”

he continues to murmur sweet nothings until finally, finally, your heart settles back in your chest, your breathing levels, and your vision clears enough to see yunho

your yunho

and in this state, one look at his kind eyes is enough for the tears you’ve been holding in all this time to spill over

because though you cry in your sleep, you never let yourself cry when you’re awake

too focused on chores, too focused on remembering, too focused on trying to get some semblance of control over this uncontrollable situation

without a word, he pulls you into his chest and runs his fingers through your sweaty hair, offering the sound of his heartbeat to anchor you back to this four poster bed when you were ready

but g*d, does it break his heart to see you cry

he expected to hear you wail, to take the brunt of your fists as you pound his chest

but he hears nothing

instead, he feels your tears soak his shirt, feels how you tremble in his arms

and that is so much worse.

it takes long minute for you to stop crying, and another for you to feel composed enough to detach yourself from yunho’s (now soggy) chest

you’re sure you look awful

puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks, and a runny nose

(and you feel embarrassed that yunho witnessed your breakdown)

but he thumbs away the remaining tears from your cheeks and murmurs that he’ll be right back, returning with tissues and a glass of water 

and a new shirt

he hands you the glass of water, tosses your used tissues in the garbage, and climbs underneath your (technically his) covers, patting the space beside him

when you too find refuge in the warm blankets, he pulls you back into his chest

his arm acts as your pillow as he kisses the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair

“wanna talk about it?”

it takes you several moments, but you eventually tell him about the negativity seeping into every inch of skin

the nightmares you never recall keeping you up at night

the irrational feeling of stupidity because you can’t remember who you are

yunho silently, attentively listens to you as you spill your heart

and if he hadn’t pulled you so close, you might’ve seen the weariness in his usually carefree features

the conflict and hollowness brewing in his normally inviting eyes

but by the time you finished talking and pulled back, the expression was gone and the familiar smile you adored so much was back in place

“tomorrow, let’s go to the place where i found you.”

a faint smile bloomed on your lips because though this wasn’t the first time you visited, it was a reminder that you weren’t alone

that no matter how the chances dwindled, yunho would remind you that it was never zero

it was hope that got you through the night

the two of you have never done anything that could be considered anything but platonic

much to mingi’s irritation

but just for tonight, yunho decides to be a little greedy

he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, you wrists, your palms, your knuckles, your fingers

anywhere he can reach,

except for your lips

you’re emotionally exhausted and vulnerable; he’d feel like a dick if he forced a decision - especially an emotionally fraught one - onto you right now

he threads your fingers together, murmuring soft promises: you’ll remember who you were, you’ll be okay, you’ll find your way again

and you finally let the exhaustion, the steady rhythm of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the warmth and comfort that is yunho lull you to sleep

the next morning is a cold one

gusts of wind bite into your skin as you curl in on yourself, trying to preserve any remaining shred of body heat

noticing this, yunho tucks you under his arm with a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks that were definitely red because of the cold and not because he was flustered

cute

a peaceful silence falls between you two as he leads you to the alley

and since it was early, the only sounds that accompanied you was the quiet patter of your footsteps and the chirps of birds reluctant to travel south

feeling like it simultaneously took too long and not long enough, the two of you arrive

an odd smile settles on yunho’s lips

,,,was that bitterness?

“,,,here we are.”

interrupting your train of thought, he takes your hand and leads you to where he found you

g*d

you could feel it

somewhere in the back of your mind, something almost tangible was shoving its way forward

you’re so close, just a little more and-

suddenly, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather ran down your spine

before you could understand what you were feeling, yunho shoved you behind him and parried the dagger aimed for his chest

a gruff looking man only a little shorter than he stood before him

his clothes tattered and dirty, skin littered with scars, hair and beard scraggly and matted, he looked like one of the many men that inhabited the slums

but those men were sagging skin and bones, never knowing where or if they would get a next meal

this man was muscular

and judging by the familiarity of his actions, this clearly wasn’t his first assassination 

the two men, unable to disengage, snarl as they continue to press into each other

much to your surprise, when you were about to jump into the fray, the assassin screams at you

“YOU ‘UCKING WHORE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! KILL HIM!”

big mistake

because not only is yunho clever and athletic, he’s one lucky bastard

in the brief second the assassin’s attention was diverted, yunho ducks

his weight and moment carries him forward, and he stumbles,,,right onto yunho’s blade.

yanking both his blood soaked short sword and body away from the assassin, the man crumples to the ground

but until life is drained from his eyes, he bores holes into your head, message clear: kill him

a deafening silence weighs down upon you when the man stops breathing

even the wind stills

yunho stands there, a far away look in his eyes as he grips the short sword

blood is splattered all over his hands, across his cheek

it trickles from the hilt, down the blade, and eventually drips onto the ground beneath him

snow begins to drift from the gray skies, landing on his hair, his cheeks, his eyelashes, his coat

as if trying to comfort him

as if trying to wash the blood away

and you?

you couldn’t move.

not when the floodgates had opened and a torrent of memories threatened to pull you under

you knew who you were

you were yn, born to a peasant mother who died at birth and a father that abandoned you soon after

a ghost of a person, and unknown assassin raised by an unnamed noble who resented the jeong’s for their wealth, their nobility, and their favour with the royal family despite their peculiar attitude

nothing but a tool 

a tool told that if successful, he’d grant you wealth and freedom

but that if you failed, he’d kill you himself

…

the assassin wasn’t after yunho, he was after you

a warning to finish the job, or else

…

you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking

and yunho, 

your gentle giant, yunho

envelops your hands in his, idly tracing lines from your wrist to your fingertips

there’s no comfort this time.

not when he drew lines of blood across the back of your hand, not when you searched and couldn’t read anything expect for this sad smile on his ordinarily open features

“,,,do you remember?”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,you knew.”

he did.

his suspicions appeared early on, spurred by your unusually good marksmanship, agility, and uncanny knowledge of plants

specifically poisonous ones

he turned to this “unconventional” ways of gathering information

starting off with his kids,

then some trusted tclose contacts

but when nothing - and he meant a questionable amount of nothing - turned up, he left the legal sphere and delved in the underground; the black markets

yunho has people who owe him favours - people who’s debts he’s paid off, who’s fights he’s fought on their behalf 

it took a few months, but eventually he got the information he wanted

marquess yoo who openly showed his distaste for the jeong family “released his pet into the wild”

but the jeong’s were not stupid, and they were loved

when yunho’s father confided to some close acquaintances about the predicament they were facing, they took matters into their own hands

they never meant to hurt you

only to capture you and talk you out of killing, bribing you with money, protection - threats, if necessary - if you testified against marquess yoo

but somewhere along the way, things got messy 

it ended with an unconscious girl lying in the middle of an abandoned alley; three grown men running away because oh dear lord, she’s dead; and a child leading yunho straight to you

letting go of your hands, yunho goes to kneel beside the man he just killed

closing his eyes, he mutters a prayer for the (not so) poor soul who unknowingly got himself tangled in this mess, and grabs the dagger 

it feels like someone doused you in ice as yunho walks back to you

horror morphs on your face as he gently - why was he always so gentle? - wraps your fingers around the hilt and places the blade against his neck

the smile that you love so much but currently hate rests on his lips as he cups the side of your face with his free hand

his thumb idly brushes against your cheek, eyes twinkling with adoration as he drinks in every last detail of your face as if,,,

as if,,,

he’s ready to die

“no one knows we left this morning and no one knows we’re here; not even mingi. if you kill me, you’ll have enough time to collect some of your reward and run away.”

by now your hands were shaking so much that if yunho didn’t have his hand wrapped around yours, you would’ve dropped the blade

but as the snow floats down and lands in your hair, in his eye lashes, in the fog of your shared breaths, in the space between you,

here to witness a great tragedy

you both knew,

that one of you has to die.

[livvynka]

Can i get your vote? Kamilah x Amy x Priya AU

Warning: SMUT, death threatening, harsh sexual activities, Angst, Putting Kamilah in her place, bit of a fluff?

I’m not native english speaker, feel free to correct me (i would be actually glad).

NOTE: Story is before Kamilah and Amy fall in love, when Amy tries get Priya's vote, so Lily can join Adrian's clan. Uff, this takes a lot from me. :D

Pairing: Kamilah x Amy x Priya

About 2430+- words.

Tag list: @fal-carrington @samanthadalton @vonda-b-real @drmmyrs @straightlikewetspaghetti @blaine-hayes @lizielasyd @mrskamilahsayeed @millasayeed @ntoraplayschoices @ilove-kamilah-sayeed @kamilah-is-queen @rhonda-sayeed @queenkamilah @domakir @kwaj115 @fundamentalromantic @somethindarker @crimsonvrose @glowriter @leenasayeed

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Amy has goosebumps just from the thought, she needs to visit and get to the good side of Priya's. She knows Priya is evil, and every good thing in her died a long time ago. But there is no way Kamilah or Adrian could break her so she does something nice for them. They are sitting in Adrian's office. Brainstorming plan how to get 4 votes, so Lily can live. Amy: "Alright, I pay her visit." Kamilah shoot stare to Adrian. Kamilah: "She's your pet. I don't care. But she gets all of you into this mess, so she needs to fix it." Adrian: "Kamilah be reasonable, she will not come back alive. You know Priya and her ´activities´..." Amy: "Kamilah is right. And there is no other way. She will send you to the hell in the moment you set your foot to her club."

Adrian: "No! We will find another way, I will not let anything to happen to you." Amy: "Maybe we will, but it will take a long time. And now, time is what we don't have. I already decide Adrian. And you cant change my mind. I'm going with or without your help." Kamilah: "Amy, she is going to break you. Don't underestimated her. Not every vampire is in control like us and our clans." Amy: "Now you care? You threaten to kill me, Kamilah! You can go back to your office, because you are not helping." Amy stands up and starts walking towards door. She stops with her hand on the handle. She takes a few deep breaths. Then she looks over her shoulder. Adrian put his head into his hands. He shakes his head and nod. Adrian: "We send someone, who will watch you from distance. If anything goes wrong, they help you." Kamilah straighten her back, clears her throat and began walk towards Amy.

Kamilah: "I'll escort you to her club. We need to talk privately." Adrian look between Amy and Kamilah with questions in his eyes. He feels there's great tension between them. He just don't know what kind of tension. It seems he wants to say something, but he just look to the opposit direction. Amy: "Great.. Yeah.... Thank you..." They got into her car. Kamilah drives Amy to the Paulus viewpoint. Kamilah exit the vehicle first, she opens doors for Amy and offers her hand. Amy decline and burst out of the car. Amy: "Why did you take me here? I need to meet with Priya! If you want to kill me, do it! Enough of your threats and shit talking about me all the time."

Kamilah: "You may be right, mortal. I don't care about you. But Adrian likes you. So listen to me, I will not repeat myself. I will help you out of this situation, who if I remember, you cause. But if this doesn't work out, and Adrian loses his life, because you put your con act and manipulate him to turn Lily. I'll kill you both without any hesitation." Amy is stressed out. Angry. Scared for her, Lily's and Adrian's life. This was the last button to push. She doesn't care if more than 2000 years old, strongest vampire on the earth, who can snap her neck in the velocity of light, stands before her. She slaps her hard and pushes her. Again, and again and again. She pinned Kamilah to the railing. Amy: "Ohh, really, Kamilah? Than do it, kill me! You are full of the bullshit! Drop this nonsense! You are hiding behind coldness, strength and rudeness. But we both know where is the truth! Deep inside, you are scared little girl, who is afraid of people leaving you, after they get to know real you! You are lonely and scream for the attention, affection and love! Deep inside, you want someone who will care about you, who will see the real you! Who will get you and stand by your side. So NO! I'm not afraid you. You care about people. Adrian may be the last being who likes you, and you know it. So you are losing your control, because he is the only hope for your humanity. Only thing which puts you in the line. The last thing to stops you from being monster. Be honest for second and show me some damn respect!" She catches Amy's hand when she wanted to push her again. Her jaw drops. She is right and they both now it. She stands there in shock.

Kamilah: "I-I..."

Amy: "That's what I though."

Amy free her hands from Kamilah's strong grasp and start walking towards the city. It's a few miles. This is going to be a long walk, but Amy doesn't care. She needs to clear her head. She feels connection towards Kamilah, but she is tired of her act and manipulation. Kamilah feel how tear slides down her cheek. Reality falls apart and she remembers how she sits alone in her pentahouse or office, trying to drink her mind off. She prohibited herself any kind of connection after what she done in past. After so much pain she causes.

After centuries someone sees through her like she was a plate of glass. She closes her eyes and tried gain her control back. After a while she enters her expensive car and follows Amy. It does not take long, she finds her walking angrily in abandonen path.

Kamilah: "I'm sorry Amy. Please get into the car, I'll drive you to the Priya's club. It's not safe in the night here."

Amy: "I'm fine. Just go away." Kamilah: "Don't be stuborn, you were right about everything. Let me take you to the Priya's club, now for real. I know I upset you, but it takes hours from here, by walking.

Amy sight and listen, she gets into the car and turn to the window with her hand fold above her stomach. She is looking at the night New York. Amy: "What can Priya do to me?"

Kamilah: "She is a real monster. She will promise you a lot of things. She makes you feel special for short quantity of time. In the second she gets enough of you or gets bored, she will probably kill you. Her games, no human can survive. People disapear or they found them dead." Amy: "At least she is attractive. I will have a nice view when she dries me suck and I will die for someone I care about." Kamilah narrow her eyes at the girl, sitting besides her. Kamilah: "We won't let that happened. You need to get out of there if she tries something. We still can get Baron's vote." Amy: "He is even worse. Priya wants to play games, but her ego destroys her once. What she doesn't know, I'm good at playing games."

Amy: "Kamilah, I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

Kamilah's brows quirk. She thinking about hers next words.

Kamilah: "Don't be. Perhaps it was bold to say those things, but you were right. Noone was brave enough to tell me before..." Kamilah drive Amy to the Priya's club and wish her luck. Amy didn't wait a long line and walk towards the bouncer. Amy: "Priya will accept me immediately." Bouncer: "Oh, are you her snack? Tell me your name, I check the list." Amy tells her name to the bouncer. He calls for his colleague and they escort Amy right to the Priyas V.I.P. room. Priya is wearing a black minidress, with gold stripes and a red high heel boots. A lace from the dress covering only a little bit of her skin, it's really tight dress. She talks with another vampires. Some of them Amy knows from the Council meeting. It takes only few second before Priya sensed Amy. She shoot glare directly to Amy. Priya: "Well, well, well. Look at who's decided do choose better company."

She kissed Amy at both cheeks and hugs her tightly. Priya may be a monster, but she is also very attractive. When Amy feels how close is Priya's body presses to hers, she gasps. Her heart skips a few heartbeats. Priya smirk and look at the girl before her with amusement.

Amy: "Hi Priya, I need to talk with you. Privately." Priya: "Ohh!" She clapped her hands together enthusiastically and murderous smile appear at her face. Amy rolled her eyes. Priya: "I love where is this coming. Follow me." They enter a private elevator what is connected directly to the Priya's apartment. When the door close Priya immediately catch Amy by her sides, other hand searching to find a way under Amy's shirt. She runs a nail along Amy's stomach harshly, and cut a line on her belly, blood appears immediately. Amy let out a moan. Priya kiss her with hunger. Amy pauses the kiss and walk a few steps away. Her heart is beating fast. Priya attract her, but she is also very dangerous. Amy is trying to cool down and put hand in the air between them, to make some space. Amy: "I'm here only to talk." Priya: "Don't lie, I hear your heart, it's like it explode any moment."

Amy: "Priya... I need your help with something, hear me out." They exit the elevator, and Priya pour them a glass of expensive red wine. They sit on the leather couch. Priya grab Amy by her thigh and pull her close. She is drawing a circles at her thigh. Priya: "Well?" Amy: "Someone of your kind attacks my friend..." Priya: "Of my kind?!" Amy: "Vampire... My friend, Lily... She was dying... So I ask Adrian to turn her. I got you envelope, he is calling a Council meeting. We need your vote." Priya: "HA! Adrian breaks rules for some human?"

Priya: "You get my vote under one condition. You stay with me and become my little kitten." Amy: "No way, I want to live at least for next 50 years, Priya. One night, no killing, no turning. No ripping parts of my body." Priya: "Oh, I will have so much fun! Alright then. After I do to you, you will have no thoughts of leaving." Amy: "I am going to regret this. Am I? I accept." Priya: "Very well." She kisses Amy and guides her to stand up from the sofa. Her hands sliding at Amy's arms. Making way to tangle their fingers while Priya dominate Amy's tongue. Priya: "Now, I want to hear your heart race, your moans fills the room. And I have a very good idea." Before Amy opens her mouth to say something, she is back in flash with sex harness. Its black leather metal restrains for neck and wrists. Amy let out a long sigh and look directly at Priya's eyes. Amy: "Seriously Priya?" Priya: "I'll enjoy this my little kitten." She doesn't waste any time and free Amy of her cloths. She is completely nude. Before she can protest Priya restrain her into the harness and with the swift move settle Amy into near chair. She spread her kneese and push her toward the edge of the luxury seat. She kissed her again, but not for long. She continues to Amy's neck and bite, she inserts two fingers inside Amy. Amy sees how colors spread before her eyes. The pain and pleasure made Amy arch her back a bit. Her breath quickens when suddenly she feel another finger thrust in. A moan escapes her lips. She tried to hold onto something, but the harness blocking her movement. She almost can't take it. Amy: "FUCK, PRIYA!" Priya continues in her murderous pace and drinking Amy's blood. Amy vision goes blur. She doesn't know if its from the pleasure or the blood lost. Amy: "You dry me suck Priya! STOP!" But Priya continues. She starts to fuck Amy again and moves to her shoulder. She bites her again and sucks her blood like it's the best food she ever has. She bites her side, drink a little bit, then stomach, and finally she sucks her vulva. Amy let out very loud moan and rock against Priya. When Amy's orgasm come to close Priya moves again, to her thigh. She drinks Amy's blood again. Amy yell by the pleasure Priya giving her and from the pain.

Amy: "Priya! I am close!" Priya: "Let go my beautiful kitten." Priya pump into Amy with vampire strenght and speed. She can't even breath properly. She arch her back, the harness slightly choke herself, her wrist miss oxygen, but she doesn't care. After few moments she crashed so hard. Amy: "PRIYA! FUCK! OHMYHOD!" Amy lost her consciousness, from blood lost and pleasure Priya gives her. Priya stands up and clean her face from Amy's juice.

Priya: "Ha! They will be pissed, especially Adrian and grandma. Th-."

In that moment doors flew open and Kamilah make her way to the Priya. Kamilah is standing her, her twin daggers holding close.

Kamilah: "What about we just kill you?"

Priya: "Wait! Just take her!"

Kamilah: "Smart choice, Lacroix."

Kamilah hide her daggers and undress her maroon blazer. She free Amy of the leather - metal harness and wrap Amy into blazer. She pick her up, holding her close, but carefully.

Kamilah: "You are not allowed to touch her again."

Priya: "Whatever, after this night, she comes back voluntarily."

Kamilah: "I expect ´aye´ from you, tomorrow. And even if she comes back by her choice, you will hand her over to us, immediately."

Without hearing answer, Kamilah exit the building.

Kamilah: "You got yourself into serious mess Amy."

Amy wakes up and nuzzles to Kamilah's neck.

Amy: "Kam?"

Kamilah: "Shh. You are safe and alive."

Amy: "I was imagining you whole time. While she was doing, what she was doing."

Amy falls alseep again. Kamilah stops for the moment and look at that small, fragile human. She don't know what she should think about this. But she decide to ignors it. She carefully put Amy at back seats and drive her to her pentahouse, where she clean Amy's wounds. She lay her onto her bed and with intention watch her till she wakes up, lay besides her. Amy lookes so calm. Soon she falls asleep to.

Amy wakes up in the morning. She is laying on top of Kamilahs chest. Kamilah is holding her close, only in underwear, Amy is only in Kamilah's blater. She tried to stand up, but Kamilah is holding her too strongly.

She nuzzle to her cheek with her nose, while stroking her silk hair between her fingers.

Amy: "Kamilah? Wake up"

Kamilah: "Hmm, no, you are not going anywhere."

Amy smile at the old vampire and lay at her chest again.

Amy: "Okay then"

They both continue sleep. And for once, both can sleep peacefully.

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END.

[derailedfiction]

The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader |  James Barnes & Fem!Reader

Word count: 6764

Warnigns: smut, a bit of swearing

Summary: After John Walker's outburst, Reader.and the boys ™️ follow a promising lead of a certain doctor.

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE :D enjoy <3 

tag list: @sea-murai you’re my smut queen 

What a mess, you thought replaying in your head over, and over again how the poor man was decapitated. You returned to the empty apartment and made yourself a drink, which you drank at the spot and immediately you refilled empty glass. You looked at the amber liquid pensive. It was not the first time you saw somebody getting killed but the brutality of the act itself and the direct publicity it had from the very start, made you feel sick.

With heavy sight, you sat down on the sofa and closed your eyes. It was not the only haunting thought that was in your mind. The kiss. You suspected he did it to play with you, but you could not stop feeling his lips upon yours. How gentle and soft they were and Zemo’s gloved hand lightly caressing your chin as you succumbed to his actions.

What a nonsense, you thought and took away your own fingers that tried to trace his touch on your lips. But it was a pleasant nonsense, and you did not really want to let it go.

“Still here?” you heard Sam as he walked in. “Your great prize just escaped; you’re not following him?”

“Kein Problem, Sam. Ich verfolge ihm, [Not a problem, Sam. I’m tracking him,]” you answered him opening your eyes.

They both looked like they have been through hell. Weary, bruised up with some cuts on faces, but somehow victorious as you spotted the shield in Sam’s hands, still wearing some marks of blood on its surface.

“We must think what to do with Walker, he clearly snapped,” Bucky said as he was taking off his gear. “It’s hard to deal with what he’s done to the shield.”

That sounded way more accusatory than it supposed to be, and you saw Sam slightly tensing his jawline, listening to Bucky. It was something that you were used to, as James would from time to time throw such punchlines toward Sam, and how he has treated the shield.

You got up and went for the first aid kit, which still was in bathroom after Zemo helped you with taking out the bullet. You heard them heatedly arguing back in the room, so you grabbed the kit and went back.

“Sitz [Sit,]” you ordered James showing him the chair, and surprisingly he obliged. You then took a swab with sanitizer and tried to clean his face cuts, but he retreated catching your hand. “Komm jetzt, es wird nur für einen Moment kneifen [Come now, it’ll pinch only for a moment,]“

He let your hand go, rather unconvinced and allowed you to continue with the procedure.

“Sie mussen ihm neutraliziren. [You have to neutralize him.]” you referred to what they were arguing about, whilst cleaning James’ nose cut. “Er kann nicht ein Super-Soldat sein. Das ist zu gefährlich. [He can’t be a super soldier. It’s too dangerous.]”

“Well, that’s out of the question,” James answered with sigh.

“Yeah, but how do you want to take down a bloody murderer? It’s not like we can burst into his house and handcuff him, man,” Sam stood looking at the two of you, with crossed arms. “He’s a straight up killer, a super killer. He won’t go easy, especially as something broke in him.”

“I have told you something was not alright about him,” with nod you agreed to what Bucky has said.

“Warum hat er diesen Mann getötet? Was ist passiert? [Why did he kill that man? What has happened?]” you asked.

“Lemar, his partner died in action. It was actually Karli that pushed him into the wall, but Walker set his mind on that man,” you stood silent for a longer while, thinking intensively about something. In the meantime you let James to go, as you finished with cleaning of his cuts and invited Sam to take his place.

“Ich kenne eine Frau, sie ist eine Wissenschaftlerin und sie hatte an dem Super-Soldat Serum und einer Art Gegenmittel gearbeitet. [I know a woman. She’s a scientist and she worked on the super soldier serum and some kind of antidote.]”

“Really? – Nicht bewegen, [Don’t move,]” Sam looked at you as Bucky explained him what you have said. You found it utterly irritating and hard to tend his head cut as he moved all the time.

“Nun, ich kenne sie nicht persönlich, aber ich weiß, dass es diesen Wissenschaftler gibt, der versucht, die Wirkung des Serums umzukehren. [Well, I don't know her personally, but I do know that there is this scientist who is trying to reverse the effects of the serum,]” you took your time washing the wounds and bruised lip.

Only when you finished, you cleaned up and put the rest of the things back into the first aid kit. Then you took out your laptop and started looking for some useful information.

“Don’t you think is worth a shot?” Bucky asked Sam, who wasn’t that convinced to your idea. He didn’t trust you and you could not blame him for that. Especially, as you let Zemo escape their custody.

“Do we have other option? We should try this, it’ll be easier to do something with him, when he’s not a super soldier,” you felt Sam’s glances as he has spoken with James. “But still, I don’t trust her that much to do as she proposes.”

“For a bit we’re stuck with her,” they both stopped talking to look at you, working on the computer. You paused and looked back at them.

“Was? [What?]” you tilted your head and returned to your work.

“Anyway, we try to find this scientist and then we go back to States. I’m done with Europe for a while.”

“Mags du die offiziele Treffen? [Do you like official meetings?]”, you closed laptop and approached men. “[I know you have enough of Europe, but we’ll be here for a bit longer. In two days, there’s an annual meeting of scientist. What very little people know that it is also an annual convention of all sorts of medical freaks.]”

“Where is it?”

“Come sta il tuo gentiluomo italiano? Andiamo a Venezia. [How is your Italian? We are going to Venice],” you asked them with disarming smile as you saw confusion on their faces.

“How many languages do you know, woman?” Sam was highly shocked considering your ability to change languages so easily.

“A lot,” you smiled cheekily answering him in the purest English, much to his dismay.

***

“Do we have to go through the plan again?” you growled under your nose, hesitantly getting up from the bed you sat on.

You arrived in Venice in the early morning, when the whole city was still asleep. The three of you took that opportunity to do a short reconnaissance in front of the opera where later that day, the event was to be held. A square in front of it was rather small but provided enough space to set an observation station. You really hoped for a moment free to go and visit a bit more of the city you haven’t seen for a long time. Unfortunately, during the day you were seated in the nearby café as Sam and James went inside.

“Bucky and I go inside, and we try to find this doctor of yours. You Y/N, will be a watch-out in the nearby,” James looked at you for a moment, thinking about something.

“Can you tell me again, why you can’t go inside with us?”

“Wie ich Ihnen bereits sagte, wünschen mir einige Leute dort den Tod, [As I told you, some of the people there wish me dead,]“ you shook your head lightly. “So, denke ich, das ist keine gute Idee für mich in zu gehen. Jeder würde wissen, dass etwas lost ist. [So, I think it’s not a good idea for me to go in. Everybody would know something is going on.]”

James was visibly tormented by the idea of you doing things on your own.

“Es ist in Ordnung, ich verstehe dich und dass du mir nicht vertraust, James. [That’s alright, I understand you and that you don’t trust me, James,]” you gently put your hand on his arm. “Aber wir haben keine anderen Lösungen [But we don’t have any other options,]“ he sighed as he knew there was no other idea and that was your best shot so far.

“Right, but how do we get in there? We don’t even have clothes or anything?”

You smiled broadly as you were waiting for this question. You went to the phone and dialed a number, “Sie werden hinreißend aussehen, [You’ll look ravishing,]” you winked at them and started talking on the phone.

Within an hour, you were gaily sitting in a comfortable chair, slowly drinking your second mimosa and simply enjoying the view. Sam and James were trying on their tuxedos for the evening, which was truly captivating activity as you could look at two well-built men in smart clothes.

“Is it me or Y/N enjoys this a bit too much?” Sam turned around to see himself in the mirror.

“Ja, ich genieße die Aussicht, [Yes, I do enjoy the view,]” you smiled and raised your glass to toast and finished off the drink, which was immediately refilled.

Bucky stood silently in his dark-blue velvet jacket and you could have sworn he was mumbling something about you acting like Zemo.

“Komm schon Jungs, du muss anständig aussehen, um in die Oper zu gehen, [Come on boys, you have to look decent to go to the opera,]” the tailor took the last measurements from Sam and invited Bucky to stand on a low step.

“Ah, James, du siehst absolut schneidig aus [James, you look absolutely dashing],” you complimented the man as the dark shade of blue looked absolutely mesmerizing on him. “Du auch siehst absolut schneidig aus, Sam,” what was more to say, you simply took pleasure in both, observing them in those fancy clothes and how miserable they were at the same time.

“Aren’t you getting ready?” Sam asked, looking at himself in the mirror one more time. You sensed that he actually liked being dressed like this.

“Ja, aber ich bin schon bereit, schau. [Yes, but I’m already ready, look,]” with your free hand you pointed to a hanger with long, evening dress in your favourite colour, next to which stood high-heels.

As you finished your last drink, you got up from the armchair and spoke to the tailor, who informed you that there, is need only for small changes and outfits would be ready within two hours. You smiled to him and left the room with the dress and shoes to get ready.

It was not your first time to be a watch out but what concerned you the most about this evening, was the fact that you still had the Powerbroker’s men after you. The odds were rather unlikely for them to come but they were not zero. Then again, you did not really owe anything to James or Bucky, to stay and to help them here or to go after Walker and neutralize his super soldier abilities.

You looked at your reflection in a mirror, carefully observing how the fabric of the dress draped over your body. The sleeves were of right length to nicely cover the bandage on your arm. It was a simple, evening dress as many others, but it had something in it that made you checking-out yourself for a longer moment. Was it the cleavage, not revealing yet complementing your breasts? Or maybe a nicely cut waist, hugging your body well-fitted? You did not really know, and it did not bother you. The effect was stunning, and you loved it. It was a perfect camouflage for your position. Being in that dress allowed you to look as one of the guests, who casually went outside to smoke and was about to go back. The only thing that didn’t go well with this outfit was your purple black eye from the other day, but what make-up cannot solve?

It took you a bit longer than you wished but you managed to cover the bruised area with an evening look. As you finished the last touches of your gala outfit you took out two boxes with the equipment you got from a friendly smuggler you knew from the past.

“So, I brought some good stuff,” you said as you returned to the boys and put first small box on the table.

“She speaks,” escaped from Sam’s mouth. And it was not the only sense that was shocked as his eyes were wandering on your figure, as much as James’s. “You look really nice.”

“Yes, I do,” you replied in such way on purpose, so he had to think about it. You opened the box revealing small earplugs. “We’ll communicate through them. It’s so small nobody will notice it,” you handed one for each of them and put one in your ear.

“Why now?” Sam was still inquiring about your magical ability to speak English, all of sudden.

“I thought it would be easier if both of you would understand me, not just James,” you answered him. “And honestly, gentleman you should consider wearing suits more often… They really suit you.” Sam was visibly flattered by your compliment, while James mumbled something again. “Do you want to go over the plan again?”

“I think we’re good. You’re observing, we’re inside looking for your doctor. We get needed information and head out,” Sam summed up shortly, as you took out invitation. “Only one?”

“Yeah, you’re going as a pair. Settle between who is who’s one plus,” you handed him the piece of paper with grin. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I preferred when you spoke German at least I didn’t understand you,” he sighed heavily. You lightly shrugged your arms and turned on a little screen, which was showing halls of the opera house from different angles. You wrinkled your nose lightly observing one of the video.

“What?” you heard Bucky over your shoulder, standing behind.

“Nothing, I just spotted a bar I want to invade before we begin,” you answered him and turned off the device.

“How professional,” Sam snorted.

“Come now, darling,” you smiled blissfully and grabbing their arms as you were leaving the apartment. “What can go wrong?”

***

As you soon found out quite a lot of things could have gone wrong, starting with your high-heels and Venetian pavement that was not co-operating with them to finish with a bottle of not-so-cold champagne you have hoped for.

“How is it going?” you asked through the earplug, observing incoming wave of smart-clothed people.

“So far, so good,” you heard Sam and you saw him with a drink in a hand, “How does our target will look like?”

“Tall, blonde, she’ll be probably with a cane. She had some sorts of accident and can’t walk without it,” you replied smiling to the passing by couple, “She should be easy to spot. Please, don’t scare her.” Sam let a short laugh.

“Well then, let’s get to it,” James was rather tensed, observing guests coming in.

“You should go and take your seats, the play is about to start.”

“What?” they asked simultaneously.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you smiled to yourself, seeing their distressed faces in camera, “As a treat for guests, you’ll be able to see one of the finest version of Don Jovanni. Enjoy gentlemen –”

And you lost sound at that moment, you could have seen they were saying something to you but it was just lost.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

What a piece of shit, you thought taking out the comm and gently hitting it in order to work.

“Hello?”

“Problems in paradise?” a familiar voice, you thought you won’t hear for a time, asked as you turned around to see Zemo standing in the shadows like a common creep.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re doing perfectly well,” you said, observing the entrance. Quite a lot of people were still going in, even though the opera has already started. “I’m surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“I got a little bit bored, and I decided to come back,” Zemo said, walking up to you slowly.

“Don’t tell me you missed Sam or James’s company?” you scoffed him with a smile just in the corner of your lips.

“I missed your company Y/N, if I may speak freely,” you raised your eyebrow at his words. Zemo stopped next to you and observed the façade of the opera house. “It’s quite a crowd, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. I never liked those official meetings, really. The only one good thing about such parties is this,” you showed him a bottle of champagne you took earlier from the opera’s kitchen. “Want some? But I warn you, I don’t have any fancy glasses, so we have to drink straight from the bottle,” you drank from it and passed the alcohol to Zemo, which he gladly accepted.

“Are our mutual friend inside?” you nodded. “How did you make them go inside?”

“It wasn’t that hard, really,” he was standing with such close proximity, you had no problem with smelling his cologne nor with feeling his warmth. “Is it your doings that our communication is jammed?”

Zemo smiled innocently and pretended to turn the key against his mouth, “I know nothing of such thing, Y/N. But then again, we wouldn’t have had this opportunity to talk freely.”

“And you came, God knows from where, just to talk with me?” he opened his arms and shrugged them.

“Night is still young, and you don’t have to stand here waiting for them to return. They’re big boys,” he took the liberty to caress your neck skin as he spoke, giving you shivers along the spine.

“What we do here is important, Zemo,” you slowly turned your gaze upon him. “Honestly, I don’t really want to see any more dead bodies caused by this man.” You lazily leaned towards him, occasionally glancing at his lips. So, tempting to try them one more time.

“I can see that, Y/N,” Zemo answered in low whisper, still caressing your neck.

You moved even closer to the man and just inches before his mouth, you paused and said, “Give me back champagne.”

You saw how his face shifted as he gave you a short smirk along the bottle, from which you took another sip.

“So, hypothetically, where would you want to go, Zemo?” you asked, enjoying the sensation of his gloved hand against your skin.

“Hypothetically, there is a little hotel, not that far from here where, hypothetically, I have an apartment – Of course, you have – where we can go and talk,” you rose your eyebrow as he took his hand away and took of his signature coat to put it around your shoulders. “It’s rather chilly.”

“What a chivalry of yours, Zemo,” you stated, even though you accepted it with quite a pleasure, “Shall we go?” As for a true gentleman, hidden under a mask of a terrorist, he offered you his arm, which you gladly took.

The two of you went for a relatively short stroll, which raised questions you wanted to ask, how on earth he found out about this event and that you will be there, but you just let it go.

You shook your head for his proposition of a drink as you reached the apartment, you felt a little bit light-headed after the champagne and wanted to make a pause. You nonchalantly slipped the coat on an armchair and sat down on a small sofa.

“Well, you can now tell me why are you back? I mean, you had a clear way of escaping and be free as wind,” you pressed your lips tight, and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer you. He poured you two drinks and handed one to you even though you didn’t want any.

Just as soon as he sat down, he started, “It might sound strange, but I wanted to spend some time with a person who will not try to kill me.” You smiled to your whiskey and sipped a little of it, “And as much as I enjoyed co-operating with Sam and James, it was tiring after a while to look over your shoulder.”

You raised your eyebrow in amusement. It was the very Baron Zemo who just said, he must have looked if there was anyone wanting to stab him. You found that hilarious and couldn’t prevent a silent laugh.

“I must say, Zemo, that sounds rather funny, being said by you.”

“Why? Because I know my way out of any situation, even if it demands some stabbing?” he looked at you, gently smiling.

“Precisely,” you narrowed your eyes, observing him. In this dim light and with that smile on his lips he seemed to be quite relaxed and peaceful. A rare view for anyone watching. “You know what, I missed our little talks like that.”

“I’ll drink to that, Y/N.”

You observed him for a moment, urging to ask a burning question that you carried since the beginning of your reunion, “How do you feel?”

He stopped drinking and looked at you surprised, “Ravishing, what do you mean?”

“You perfectly know, what do I mean, Baron,” you slowly took another sip of the drink, “You know, you were severely depressed in the jail, so obviously I’m a little bit concerned how do you feel now. You wanted to kill yourself, Zemo. It doesn’t happen just like that,” you snapped your fingers, looking expectantly at him.

“If that will ease your mind upon this matter, I went through the therapy during my incarnation,” he looked at the peaceful night through the window. “ – and it helped for a certain extend.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Zemo. I really am,” you smiled lightly and finished your drink. “You want a refill?” You stood up from your armchair and took his glass, as you headed for the bar. “Same or you want to change for something else?”

“The usual,” you snorted and poured him whiskey.

“So,” you started, handing Zemo his glass back, “shall we speak about something a bit more cheerful?”

As the two of you engaged into conversation, the time passed by unnoticed. You must have admitted that Zemo was a delightful chat partner as he could talk about literary everything starting from political matters and literature to what knife would be the best for a hand-to-hand combat. It was that kind of dispute which was challenging you and yet allowed you to carry it on effortlessly.

Your engagement in conversation with Zemo, reminded you how the two of you had similar talks when he was in German prison. You were quite proud of yourself when you successfully infiltrated that prison posing as a trauma counsellor. There was no real therapy, but it allowed you to plan and implement the escape. Though, now you could see much more emotions and freedom in his talking and way of acting. You found it enjoyable to observe him a bit more alive than he used to be.

At one moment you were standing and slowly dancing to the music played from a gramophone and it was quite blurry for you to recall who came up with this idea. But it was pleasurable when you felt his arm gently resting around your waist as the other supported your hand, even though both of you had some percentages in blood. You were slowly rocking across the room, trying to avoid sneaky furniture that would appear out of nowhere, to your disapproval.

“Maybe it’s best if we sit for now, we’re not the best dancers after this amount of alcohol,” you led Zemo by his hand to the sofa, on which you sat down.

“You look lovely in this dress, Y/N.”

“I know, thank you,” you gave him a cheeky smile, much to his amusement.

“You know what…”

“Are you going to tell me it would look better on the floor?” you interrupted, and Zemo chuckled in response.

“Only if you want to, Y/N,” you shifted on the sofa to move a bit closer towards him.

“What do you want, then?”

“You,” this simple response made you astonished, uncertain what to say.

“Is this drunken you speaking, or real you?” your fingers started slowly caressing the back of his hand, in anticipation of Zemo’s answer.

“What would you like me to be?” you lightly shook your head.

“Does it really matter?” you asked, not really knowing whether you were asking yourself or Zemo. Before he could answer you in any way, you placed a short, uncertain kiss on the man’s lips, which was followed by much longer and needy one. You wanted to retreat after this, to think about it but Zemo’s hand in your hair prevented it sufficiently and pulled you back for another kiss, heated and passionate.

You felt the zip of your dress going down and as you leaned in the kiss, the material slide off revealing your shoulders. You pushed him gently on the sofa seat and comfortably nested yourself on Zemo. Your fingers were tenderly stroking his hair as your kiss became deeper and sweeter with each passing second.

His lips slipped from yours to your jawline and neck leaving trail of messy kisses, each of it awarded by your soft moan. You felt as if you were melting under every single touch, stroke or nip left on your skin.

“Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?” he asked into your neck, kissing it possessively.

“After you, Helmut,” you placed another peck in the corner of his lips and sat up.

Baron swiftly got up and offered his hand to lead you to the bedroom, where he took his time stripping you out of the dress, along saying how much he admired you and your body. As your apparel hit the floor, it revealed you were wearing no lingerie.

“Y/N,” Zemo chucked huskily, grabbing you by your waist and turning around to see you, “You’re full of surprises, my dear.”

You rested your forearms on his chest observing how his eyes brightened. Your fingers played with the collar of the man’s shirt before leaning in for another kiss, which he tenderly gave you.

“Why am I the only one undressed?” you softly purred, revelling in his gentle strokes. You moved your hands to ably undo his belt and shoulder holster, which were now laying on the floor.

“Is it my fault you weren’t wearing any underwear?”

“Is it my fault you were so eager to undress me?” you replied with another question, working on his clothes. Zemo chuckled allowing you to do further undressing of him. “You know what…” you paused your doings and took your hands away, looking at him slyly, “You’re a big boy, do it yourself.”

You walked away from him with a cheeky smile and sat down on a bed, resting on your palms with crossed legs. Zemo tilted his head letting a quiet sigh of disbelief as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, still maintaining eye contact with you. Oddly, you found it quite erogenous, and your breath quicken a bit watching him stripping the rest of clothes.

“Like what you see?”

“Come to me,” you softly lured, feeling deprived of his touch and affection for too long. You climbed higher on the bed making room for Zemo, who was over you within seconds.

“So needy,” he chuckled darkly, leaving lazily trail of kisses starting on your collar just to end right next to your ear. His hand was exploring your hip, gently clenching fingers into your sensitive skin, enjoying each of your soft moans. “So impatient – and so welcoming.”

You deeply inhaled feeling his fingers inside you, already dripping wet.

“Y/N…”  Zemo caught each of your whines with his lips slowly fingering you, “You’re such a beautiful mess.” You laughed in his mouth which quickly turned into loud groan of pleasure as heat inside you was more and more mounting.

“Zemo, I want you,” you said quietly and whimpered as he took his fingers away from you.

“Good Lord, Y/N. You even taste as good as you look,” he smiled devilishly, licking off your juices and suspended any actions, glancing at you somehow distressed.

“What is it?” you looked up, searching for his eyes.

“It’s just been a while since I – ” you shushed him with your finger on his lips.

“Roll over,” you said sternly and surprisingly he was more than happy to oblige and pull you on top, “Good boy, Helmut,” you awarded him with a loving kiss.

You straddled him and helped yourself with your hand to position his member to your entrance, and you slowly lowered down on him. Both of you gasped at the same moment as you froze to feel him better inside you. “You’re quite to take,” you whispered slowly rocking your hips, much to Zemo’s approval. After a moment of his stillness, Zemo started to counter your movements.

“Oh, my – Helmut,” you gasped airlessly feeling his thrusts and trying to keep up with the pace. “Don’t you dare to stop,” you bit your lip, watching what hot mess he became beneath you. It seemed as his hands were all over you, all the time, yet you felt them mostly strongly gripping your hips as he kept thrusting in you.

“You are beautiful, Y/N. I cannot get enough of you,” with each next pound into you, you felt your legs were about to fail you. Zemo saw that as you were faintly allowing your head to fall down with sorrow moans of pleasure.

He unceremoniously flipped you on your back and trapped between the mattress and his body.

“That’s unexpected,” you said pulling him closer, sinking your fingers into his messy hair, “But not unwelcomed.”

“You were barely holding on. I couldn’t allow anything happen to you,” he stated, changing his pace to much slower and mor passionate lovemaking.

“You have well-rested, my dear Bar–ON,” a moan escaped your lips as he suddenly caught your nipple in teeth and bit it.

Zemo hooked your legs around his hips as he started to pound into you mercilessly, catching every single moan and scream of pleasure that escaped your mouth with his indecent kisses. Within a blink of an eye your arms were held by his hand, above your head, much restraining your movement. You tried to squirm your freedom, but he was relentless in overpowering you.

“Don’t move, be a good girl,” his whisper next to your ear made your eyes even darker from lust and you obliged to Helmut’s demand. “Good girl,” he praised you huskily, cupping your breast with the free hand.

“Helmut, I – ” you shivered strongly as your climax was almost there. Your hips were coming ahead his thrust gaining as much friction and stimulation as you could get. “Please, let me go… I want to touch you, to feel you when I come on you,” you pleaded sweetly arching your body toward him even more.

As soon as your arms were free, you clenched them around his upper body, dugging nails into his back. Your breath was becoming more and more frantic as you were on the very edge of your climax. All of your nerves were aching for it to happen, controlling over your body as you softly whimpered into Zemo’s neck nonsense. His brown eyes, now almost black were staring at you as if you were his pray, his victim.

“Don’t you dare stopping n-OW,” you were an absolute mess and him changing pace for the faster one was bringing you over the edge.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” Zemo’s hips were smashing into you with the force you have never suspected him. You nodded sloppily kissing his face wherever you could and then it happened.

You felt overwhelming wave of heat and shivers overpowering your body as your orgasm hit. For a moment you stopped breathing and allowed to be filled with this shake inside you and how your muscles tensed around him. Your arms were holding onto Zemo, whose moves became hastier and erratic, close to his own finale. He rested his head on your shoulder breathing heavily and babbling as with few last thrusts he came in you, with loud moan.

He stopped moving to catch his breath and slowly slipped out of you.

“You are intense, Y/N,” his soft smile was something amazing to observe. You could have sworn there was only affection and nothing more in him, at the moment.

“Well, I got to taste my own medicine, Helmut. I think I might have some bruises,” you looked at him out of breath and satisfied.

Zemo pulled you closer and left few short kisses on your forehead before he spoke to you, “Sleep now, I’ll get you back to boys tomorrow morning.”

As much as you hated the idea of being vulnerable in your sleep, you settled down comfortably next to Zemo, slowly falling asleep. His arm around your shoulder was holding you steadily, yet you could still hear his heart fast beating. Listening to it and how it was getting slower as to the regular hear beat, you found yourself drowsy enough to relax and fall asleep on his chest.

***

Your sleep was abruptly finished by the phone ring.

“Hallo?” you took the phone quickly not to wake up sleeping man next to you.

“Y/N? Care to explain your sudden missing?” you heard James on the other side and stopped breathing for a moment.

You got up and left the bedroom with sleeping Zemo and you replied, “Ich hatte einen Dinge zu machen.[I had some things to do.]”

“Yeah, right. I’m waiting outside,”

“Was? [What?]” a shocked question slipped your lips.

“Das. [That.] I put a tracker on you. I didn’t want another runner like Zemo. Come down or I’ll come for you,” he said and hung up.

FUck, fuck, FUCK, you thought shocked as you started quickly looking for your clothes. Outside the window, you indeed noticed Bucky standing under a street lantern on the opposite side of the hotel’s entrance. As you were gathering your dress and shoes, you noticed some kind of package on a chair, opposite to the bed. You almost omitted it as they were all black and only delicate shimmering in the streetlight, caught your attention.

 I hope these will be more comfortable to pursue me in.

                                                          Z.

 You smiled lightly and put the note in the pocket. How come that he could not speak about his feelings but had no problem with showing them in other ways. You took the pile from the chair and you noticed it was surprisingly heavy, as you walked into the bathroom.

How does that man know so much about me?, you asked yourself putting on clothes he prepared. And of course, they fitted you perfectly, which was quite amazing. You haven’t had a slightest idea what kind of material it was, but it felt so comfortable as if you were wearing a second skin. You slipped your feet into boots and laced them thoroughly.

The last thing from the pile was a black box in which you found lather shoulder holster, quite similar to the one Zemo was wearing himself. You put it on and adjusted to your preference and when it was perfectly laying on you, you inserted a gun into the holster.

Before you went away, you have left a short notice foe Zemo that you must have gone.

“Why did you left your position?” he asked as soon as you saw you leaving the hotel, and narrowed his eyes checking out your outfit closely. “Weren’t you wearing a dress?”

“Und jetzt trage ich das. [And now I wear this,]” you answered shortly, unsure how to feel about this whole situation. “Es ist nicht nett, dass du mir nicht vertraust. Aber ich verstehen es. [It’s not nice that you don’t trust me. But I get it].”

“Well, I was right not to trust you, Y/N. Why did you leave?”

“Ich habe dir gesagt, ich musste mich um einige Dinge kümmern. Es ist nicht so, dass ich an euch beide gebunden bin. [I told you, I had some things to attend to. It’s not like I’m bound to you two],” you snarled back at him. “Wo ist Sam? [Where’s Sam?]”

“Back at our hideout,” James sighed quietly and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, listen… You don’t have to tell me why you left, just –,” he stopped for a second looking at you. “Just leave any kind of note that you’re going…”

“Oh, warst du besorgt? [Oh, you were worried?]” you looked at him surprised as he growled with huff. “Das ist schön, James. [That’s lovely, James.]” you mocked him with light smile.

You never would have thought that any of them, James nor Sam, would display any kind of concern of your person. It was even funnier, considering the fact you just did write a note for Zemo, so he would not be troubled about your whereabouts.

“Just don’t do it again, ok?” he looked miserable as you laughed silently at this revelation. You gently patted his arm and nodded to his ask. “You’re not going back there? To your things?”

“Nein, alles ist gut, James. Wir können zurückgehen und darüber nachdenken, was als nächstes zu tun ist. [No, everything is good, James. We can go back and think what to do next,]” you said and started walking down the quiet road.

“I’m afraid no, she wasn’t even there,” Bucky answered and looked at you.

Sweet Lord, these boots are comfortable, you thought taking each next step.

“Haben sie mit diesem Wissenschaftler Glück gehabt? [Did you get any luck with that doctor?]” you asked after a while.

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you muttered under your nose silently, “You’re sure about that? [Bist du darüber sicher?]”

“Yes, we’ve talked to some other scientist that told us, she went missing like three days ago. Presumably taken by the Power Broker, as she was last seen in Madripoor.”

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you repeated louder, which caught Bucky’s attention.

“Why is she so important to you?”

“Willst du wirklich, dass Walker länger ein Supersoldat ist? [Do you really want Walker to be any longer a super soldier?]” you answered with another question. “Ich denke, wir müssen uns ausruhen und dann überlegen, was wir als nächstes tun sollen, [I think, we should take a rest and the think what to do next.]“

“That’s good idea,” he shortly agreed as you came in the apartment.

You noticed Sam sleeping on the sofa under a blanket. Surely something that was taken care of by James.

“I really enjoyed this opera, you know?” you smiled softly hearing it, “It was nice to do something normal? I guess.”

“Ich bin erfreut, das zu hören, [I’m happy to hear it,]” you lowered your voice not to wake the other man.

You looked at James trying to figure out what was he all about. No doubt, he was a caring and a caring persona and that softened you. It was truly awful what happened to him in the past because he did not deserved it at all.

“Es gab nie eine Schwester, [There was never a sister,]” this sentence sounded louder than you thought after a moment of silence.

“I know, Y/N,” you turned to him with surprised expression, a question painted all over your face. “It wasn’t exactly that hard to figure it out, especially since I found your file in published S.H.I.E.L.D. documents.”

You sighed heavily, “Wie viel weißt du [How much do you know]?”

“Pretty much all of it. That you helped Zemo going after the Avengers,” he took off his jacket and hung it over the chair, then continued, “And I just found out about your ailment, you want to treat so badly, Y/N.”

“Okay, willst du dich ausruhen oder darüber reden [Alright, do you want to rest or to talk about it]?” you rubbed your eyes. It was quite late and you dreamt only about continuing your sleep but you couldn’t leave it just like this.

“Let’s talk. We still have some time.”

“Nimm dann die Flasche und zwei Gläser [Grab the bottle and two glasses, then],” you moved to the bedroom and made him space on the bed. “Es wird einige Zeit in Anspruch nehmen [It will take some time],” you said closing the door.

[wesawbears]

My @geraskierholidayexchange gift for @keepcalmandexpectopatronum934. I hope you enjoy! This ended up being inspired by the movie Elf. Happy holidays!

--

In and out Jaskier, he told himself as he adjusted his new work uniform. This was just a temporary gig until he got back on his feet. Besides, it was performance experience, in a way. Perhaps not the kind he’d been expecting, but he’d learned long ago to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Or a gift paycheck, as it were.

With a good luck jingle of his hat and a final tug on his elf ears to ensure they stayed in place, he headed inside to a Christmas wonderland.

More accurately, it was a mall toy store, but hey. Magic! Christmas spirit! Jaskier had never been fussy.

He looked around, glancing at the children milling about, exasperated parents trying to keep them from knocking everything off the shelves. Jaskier supposed he should be grateful, considering cleaning up their messes was now part of his job. Not seeing a manager around, he found the first employee he could see.

The man was tall, with snow white hair tucked up underneath an elf hat similar to Jaskier’s. He was hanging ornaments on a tree in the center of the store, likely ones that some of the running children had knocked over in their haste. He leaned down to pick up a stray ornament the man had missed, hoping to extend it as a token of goodwill toward his fellow employee. 

“I love the way you hang those ornaments. Truly an, uh, inspiring show of elfdom.”

The other man stared back at him like he was a space alien, which, okay, fair, that wasn’t one of Jaskier’s better introductions, but what was he supposed to say? 

“I’m working on this alone. Go away before Emhyr finds you and fires you.”

“Sorry. Just a bit turned around. I’m Jaskier.” He stuckout his hand, only to realize that his coworker had his hands full. 

“Geralt,” the other man said, not glancing away from the tree. 

“Nice to meet you! Do you happen to know where the manager might be then?”

As if on cue, another voice sounded behind him. “Geralt, those ornaments are supposed to be spaced apart at 3.8 in.”

“I can’t measure that in my head-”

“Figure it out.” the unfamiliar man turned to Jaskier. “You’re new. Follow me.”

Jaskier gave a last sympathetic glance back to Geralt, before following the manager to the back room.

Well, at least if he was working here for the season, he would have some eye candy while he did it.

--

It didn’t take long for Jaskier to learn Emhyr hated his fucking guts, and that he would undoubtedly be out of a job come January, but he didn’t mind too much. Being a hated employee ensured that he worked closing shift, which meant he got to work with Geralt. They’d fallen into somewhat of a routine over the last few weeks, cleaning while Jaskier changed the Christmas music to his carefully curated Spotify playlists, which Geralt steadfastly ignored. He’d learned that Geralt worked outdoors, so his job at the local nature preserve didn’t need him during the winter. He also knew that the only reason Emhyr hadn’t fired Geralt for his grumpy nature was that Geralt was Emhyr’s daughter Ciri’s godfather, in an arrangement far too complex for Jaskier to comprehend. In turn, he told Geralt about his performance aspirations, along with every other thought that came to his mind. Geralt didn’t say much, but he listened and made dry comments every so often and Jaskier was in love with him.

Jaskier had always fallen easily, it’s true, but that didn’t take away the flutter in his heart each time one of Geralt’s small smiles was sent his way, a wry laugh into a bottle of water as they waited for the time to switch to ten so they could lock up.

On one such night, the week before Christmas, Jaskier perched himself on the counter, watching Geralt finish cleaning the last of the displays. “Thank you, dearest. You know you’re so much better at organizing those than I am, and I’m pretty sure I’m one fuck up away from getting fired.”

Geralt snorted. “Emhyr won’t fire you. He still needs a warm body in the store and no one else will take night shift.”

“Except you. What is the deal with him anyway? He doesn’t seem the...toy store type. Seems more like a...retail baron to me.”

“He’s not. He’s a regional finance manager. They just couldn’t find anyone else to run the store this year. That’s why he’s being pissier than usual.”

“That...makes more sense. But he gets to see your smiling face, so, you know, a jolly time.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Yeah. He’s thrilled to see me. I’m sure my work ethic is what’s keeping him from spiking my eggnog at Christmas this year.”

“Has he...is that a legitimate worry?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. Probably not.”

“That family dynamic will never make sense to me.”

Geralt sighed and leaned against the counter. “We make it work. For Ciri.”

“Is she excited for Christmas?”

“She is. Between here and spending time with her, I can’t get away from it.”

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t like Christmas?”

Geralt shrugged. “It just...wasn’t a big deal for me growing up.”

“That’s so sad!” Jaskier loved Christmas. Though he didn’t really spend time with his family anymore, he had fond memories of the annual Christmas party- the music, the desserts, the presents. Just the general feeling that all was right with the world.

“It’s fine. It’s just another day.”

“How are you making me even sadder?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

“Of course,” Jaskier answered with a small flourish. “Geralt! I have an idea!”

“Careful. Wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

Jaskier huffed. “I’ll show you the magic of Christmas! I”ll be like...your Christmas elf! Your spirit advisor.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You are so mean to me. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Geralt shot him an incredulous look, but acquiesced. “What would...that...entail?”

“First rule of Christmas from your official spirit advisor: Christmas is about surprises.”

“I hate surprises.”

“That’s the spirit!”

--

They decided to hold their Christmas adventure two days later, since Emhyr had told them their services weren’t needed due to a school group volunteering to work as “Santa’s Elves” that day. They met up at the mall at 3, when they usually started work. Jaskier was decked (the halls) out in a very shiny Christmas sweater, while Geralt was in his finest funeral blacks. He had dressed warmly though, as requested, so Jaskier wasn’t going to complain too much.

“Ready, star pupil?”

“No. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You do not.”

“Hmm.”

They headed out into the cold. The mall was just a short walk away from the rest of town, and Jaskier figured they could look at the lights on the way there. “My mom and sisters and I would always go walk around and try to pick our favorite lights every year. I thought we could try that. As an easy intro activity.”

Geralt glanced around, furrow in his brow. “They all look the same.”

“They do not! It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Then show me what you see, spirit advisor.”

“Fine,” Jaskier huffed. “Those ones, over there. They look like icicles on the trees. I like them because they sparkle off the snow and from far away, they just...ooze Christmas.”

“Hmm.”

“But I also like the more colorful ones. You can’t tell me that seeing lights everywhere doesn’t leave you feeling the least bit festive?”

“They’re just...bright.”

“Fine, sir humbug. Be difficult.”

They made their way into town, Jaskier showing him different lights, and Geralt remaining unmoved. He felt it was truly a lot cause when Geralt made a noise next to him. “Those ones.”

“Which ones?”

“There. Next to the coffee shop.”

There was a small display, only the barest flash of lights that looked like holly and ivy. They were much more subdued than anything Jaskier picked out, but he couldn’t bring himself to dull Geralt’s small bit of enthusiasm. “They’re lovely. See, you’re getting the hang of it!”

“I’m also getting cold.”

“There’s just no pleasing you. Well, I suppose we could stop for a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier led them inside, ordering a large hot chocolate for himself, while Geralt ordered a black coffee.

“Geralt! Come on, you have to get something at least a little Christmas-y.”

“Fine. One pump of peppermint.”

“Oh for the love of God.”

He allowed Geralt his approximation of holiday cheer and sat at one of the tables. He watched smugly as Geralt took a sip and held back a grimace at his concoction.

“How is it?”

“People put peppermint in coffee all the time. How do they like this?”

“Well, usually there’s also chocolate…”

“Too sweet.”

“Unfortunate,” Jaskier said, taking a large sip of his hot chocolate.

“Jaskier...I...appreciate you doing this for me, but I think I’m just not meant for-”

“For Christmas? For nice things?”

“It’s just not my thing.”

Jaskier pursed his lips. “Well, be that as it may, I am your spirit advisor, and I did promise. At least allow me to try one more thing.”

Geralt nodded. Bolstered by his reaction, Jaskier pulled a small box out of his jacket.

“What’s that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a very good Christmas demonstration without a present, would it?”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

Jaskier waved his hand. “Seeing your face as you open this is gift enough. Open it!”

Geralt took the box wearily and unwrapped it carefully. Jaskier had half expected him to tear the wrapping paper apart, but instead he carefully untucked and smoothed out every edge. Inside was a small ornament, in the shape of a lion’s paw. Geralt stared at it quietly and Jaskier felt himself fidget.

“I know you call Ciri your little lion cub sometimes. I overheard you on the phone with her, and, you know, maybe I overstepped…” 

“Jaskier. Thank you. It’s...perfect.”

He looked up and saw Geralt with a soft smile, only this time it was only for Jaskier and he felt his heart melt. “You’re very, very welcome, Geralt,” he said, reaching out to clasp their hands together.

Geralt looked at their joined hands and slowly brought them to his lips. He kissed the back of Jaskier’s hand and he felt himself flush like a maiden in a period piece. Gracious, it was warm in here.

“Geralt…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You missed.”

The furrow in his brow was back. “What?”

Jaskier smiled. “You missed. Let me show you.”

He leaned forward and kissed Geralt softly, letting him take the lead and move forward to capture Jaskier’s lips fully. It was a bit minty and the angle was wrong, but Jaskier felt his heart swell anyway. It was perfectly Geralt.

They pulled away, and Jaskier smiled at the uncharacteristic flush across Geralt’s cheeks.

“Well,” he broke the silence, “I suppose my work here is done.”

“How’s that?”

“Nothing says Christmas like a Christmas kiss.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Jaskier laughed and stood. “You should know I always am, darling. Now, come on! We don’t want to miss the ice skating rink…”