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zemossunshine · 1 year

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Sunshine Chapter 46

Pairings: Zemo x You Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Tags: Explicit. Mature. Not for minors. Dark. Angst. Knife play. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self Harm . Vomiting. Nightmares. Sleepwalking. Torture. Smut. Broken Bones. Blood. Injury. Violence. Rough Sex. Rape. Kidnapping. Spanking. Unhealthy Relationships. Mental Health Issues. Anal Sex. Orgasm Delay. Fear. Blow Jobs. Sexual Violence. Suicide Attempt. Reference To Domestic Violence. Sleepwalking. Memory Loss. Gen Violence. Threats. Manipulation. Manipulative Relationship. Murder. Death. Loss Of Parents. Implied Alcohol Abuse. Threats Of Rape. Non Consensual Drug Use. Emotional Manipulation. Gaslighting.

Warnings fr this chapter: Threats

You held yourself back in the days Zemo was gone. Scott kept Rebecca entertained with various magic tricks, she loved every one. Asking if he had any other magic friends, she would have loved Victor, but he didn’t appear, but then Zemo wasn’t here. On the last night Hope told you that you didn’t have to take the sleeping tablets, she didn’t know Zemo like you did. He would know if you didn’t and someone would be punished and you weren't about to let that be her or Scott, they gave up their time to look after you and Rebecca, were endlessly kind when you had held them in the grips of your power. Didn’t flinch away, even gave Zemo a quinjet key chain, which you suspected wasn't just a key chain. Hope was so worried when you woke up screaming she ordered Scott out of your room, just because he was male, they had been told what happened or at least had some idea. The shame burned within you, you were not frightened of men, just one really, the one you lived with, the one you were married to, the one there would never be any escape from again.

“You know we lost each other for a while, maybe someone is out there looking for you.” Scott said lovingly holding Hope's hand over a steaming cup of chamomile tea. Your face etched with disdain, you could comment that it was an odd thing to say, it really was, Scott still had optimism, after everything that had happened, after how he had been treated, by his own government. Even after he saved the world, There was only one person looking for you and you walked straight back into his house.

“No, there isn’t, we would have found them by now.” Hope added as she kicked Scott under the table. On some level she knew, she knew that this was a prison, hell you could even say it and they couldn't take you away. She rolled her eyes at the buzzing of her phone, Zemo checking in again, which felt like an alarm going off at five minute intervals. Zemo couldn't exactly refuse any mission because of his own pardon, couldn't claim he had you to take care of, he had to pretend that everything was just as fine as you did, especially as he finished the job you and Maria started, you no longer existed, Zemo took it all.

–

Waking up to an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew Zemo was back, that had to be it. Zemo was back, he had to be, that or something worse, not that you could discount that, there always seemed to be something worse. You were so cynical now, you could just lay in bed forever until the day you didn’t wake up again, get the freedom Victor longed to give you. The sleeping tablets took you under, but they didn't keep you asleep, today they had, at least you hadn't spent half the night pacing your room. Grunting you knew that Zemo would drag you out of bed if he had to and you knew it would take very little for him to feel like he had to. Huffing at yourself, you couldn’t exactly complain, you wanted this, you willingly came here, you coerced, planned, even threatened Maria. Swinging your legs over the bed, you took what you hoped would be a calming breath, placing your hand on the edge of the bed to push yourself up, you stared at the alarmingly familiar black bracelet. Hell no. Prying it with your fingers, clawing at it with your nails, there was only one difference, this wasn’t the one you wore at the raft, this was vibranium, indestructible. This was originally designed to shock you at any moment. Zemo couldn't expect you to wear this, lying to yourself again that he couldn’t make you, when you both knew he could. Would he really be so cruel as to shock you, to have the fear of having bolts of electricity move through your body at any given moment?

“I’m not wearing this.” You told Zemo, finding him walking to the kitchen with an increasingly happy Rebecca.

“Strange, it looks to me as if you are wearing it right now.”

Fuck you.

Fuck no there was no way, you needed Maria, you needed Shuri, you needed to get this torture device off your body immediately, well Zemo removed anything that could even be considered a weapon a while ago, you hadn't seen his sword for ages. You wondered how strong the doors were, if you would have time to smash the door enough times to get the job done, somehow Hydra had done you a favour, you knew what it felt like to lose a limb.

I’ll cut my arm off.

A hand clamped around your forearm like a vice, as Rebecca entered the kitchen you were pulled back and slammed into the hallway wall. Zemo pressed himself firmly against you. You swung your head and Rebecca was in her own little world. Zemo was so close you felt his nose graze your cheek as he whispered into the shell of your ear. “That thought is never to cross your pretty little mind again, do you understand?”

“You're hurting me.” Your lip quivered, heart drumming in your ears, muscles straining as your skin crawled.

“If I find so much as a scratch from any ill attempt to remove this, you will find yourself handcuffed to my person permanently, then you will discover what real pain is.” Zemo promised with a voice devoid of all emotion while you frantically shook your head. Zemo gently lifted your chin with his other hand, heat and fury radiating from him and you whimpered, barely able to hold yourself up, you relented and looked at him. His eyes bore into you unashamed, that darkness ,that fire was there but there was something else, his eyes burned you. Did he even care? After all the pain he had caused? Trembling in his arms you hoped he hadn't seen the scratches already around the watch.

“I’m sorry.” you gasped out. That seemed to disgust Zemo he released his hold and stepped into the kitchen, you slid down the wall, more like fell, placing your hands into the plush carpet in an attempt to ground yourself, to not cave to the impending panic attack, desperately trying to regulate your breathing a hand appeared over your own. Victor. You clung onto him as if he were the only hope you had. Rebecca called out to you and you retched, you had to endure this. You wanted this, you just didn’t think he would be so callous with Rebecca so close.

“You can survive anything Sweetheart.” Victor reminded you. Rubbing your hand over your face you stood, still weak at the knees, plastered a smile on your face and entered the kitchen, hearing Victor on your trail.

“I can count to ten!” Rebecca exclaimed, with one little finger she pointed in the air as she counted off, you forced your smile to get bigger for her.

“You know Rebecca, you have ten fingers, as do I. You should check to see if Sunshine does.” Zemo smirked at you. You fucking asshole. He brought Rebecca into this, made her part of your little spat. She would now remember you had ten fingers. You held them out and your head high as she counted them off. Just for a moment you imagined she was counting up the moment you exploded, that you grabbed the nearest object and repeatedly smash it into Zemo’s face.

“I wish you would.” Victor sang which caused a genuine smile to peep through, his commentary wasn’t exactly child friendly. “You could always say it was an accident.” A laugh almost escaped through your lips, which was only fuelled by the confusion on Zemo’s face.

Another pointless driving lesson, at least Victor was sitting in the back, huffing and tutting at the pretence that you couldn’t drive, or pilot or a jet, or that you were this clueless. Zemo reeled off his stupid instructions. You didn't even know why Zemo agreed to teach you to drive, it wasn't like you were going anywhere. With Rebecca on your lap, driving very slowly around the trees, you gently hit the brakes when a squirrel ran across your path. Rebecca planted her feet on your thighs and hands on the wheel, enamoured by the little furry thing. Watching it, brushing its face with its tiny little paws you were in awe of her sparkling eyes, how its fluffy little tail could bring such joy into her heart, he ran off and she moved her face closer to yours with a big grin, a moment shared between you both.

Zemo captured it on his phone, he played the video for you and you would cherish it forever, the intimacy of it, you both so happy, the sun shining on both of you, so serene, almost as if you were glowing, that joy was lost when you watched Zemo send that video to Maria with a triumphant expression. He had you dead to rights, you were both playing an elaborate game of chess. Sure, you could blow the whole board off the map, but you both knew you wouldn't. He had solid evidence that you were thriving, happy, safe, just as he did before.

“Kill him.” Victor commanded, feeding into your darker desires. And so you opened the car door, gently lifted Rebecca out, made sure she was steady on her feet and hit the gas, laughing maniacally into the air as you sought your revenge, hurtling towards a tree, angling the car to make sure Zemo would die on impact. If only. If only you had the courage, if only Victor were really here, if only you could open the car without Zemo, you couldn't cause Rebecca that much pain, you would live on, whatever that meant, as long as she was happy.

“Driving requires two hands Rebecca, isn’t that right Sunshine?” Zemo cooed.

“Yes, it does. You have two hands just like dad and me.” You agreed with Zemo feeling the burn of Victor’s gaze on you and the start of his chuckle as you continued allowing malice to slip into your voice. “Uncle Bucky has two hands, doesn’t he?” You smiled sardonically at Zemo knowing you left him stumped, what was he going to do? Deny it? Say Bucky was defective in some way and by extension you? That you weren't whole as a person? You hummed to yourself satisfied at the blood curdling laugh you elicited from Victor.

“He is insufferable.” Victor scorned.

Victor gave you ideas, plenty of ideas, kick Zemo down the stairs, push his head into the boiling soup he made for dinner, hold his head under Rebecca’s bath, all of which formed an incredible and vivid visual in your mind. The darkness was always there and now the person who taught you how to harness it was with you, encouraging you to act on it, painting a picture of every scenario. That was Victor's solution, to stay safe he argued you had to eliminate Zemo. You asked him how you would get supplies, money, how you were supposed to provide for Rebecca in a prison you couldn't leave, he had his magic, he had his intellect, you didn’t have those things. He would have this bracelet off in five seconds flat, break down whatever shield there was preventing your escape. A knock came on your door after Rebecca went to bed, no doubt Zemo and his shitty pills, opening the door you held out your hand, just get it over with to see Zemo’s sleeves rolled up and a matching thick black bracelet, but why would he wear one? This wasn’t the raft he didn’t need to. You believed the guards only wore them so the chain could form in between. THE CHAIN! Your mind screamed as Zemo’s bracelet touched yours and a black chain appeared in between them. You stared at it in horror, what the sordid implications of this little chain meant. Zemo would be by your side for every waking moment, every sleeping moment, he would be in your bed, how would you use the toilet? How would you shower? Dress? Bile rose up your throat and you had to force it back down, frozen on the spot, you had no idea what to do.

Before you could form any sort of response, Zemo pulled on his handcuff causing you to spin, lifting his arm over you, he grasped your waist ruthlessly and pulled you back into him. Victor help me, help please. Zemo kicked your legs out and as you screamed his hand covered your mouth. You knew what this meant, knew how your body would be violated, every hot breath of his that tickled your cheek, felt like an unwanted touch. Zemo fumbled in his pocket and you screamed louder, flailing against him, trying to get him away from you, you muscles contracted on memory. Zemo held his hand up in front of you with those wretched pills. Did he expect you to take them from his hand like a dog? You nodded your head, you would rather be under for this, when he tipped those pills into your mouth, you felt how much you hated him, with every fibre of your being. You hated him, hated Wanda for digging you out, hated Maria for bringing you back, she was not your guardian angel, she dragged you back to hell, you could have been free from this, free from the endless cycle of pain. Free from feeling your heart shatter over and over.

I made the wrong choice.

Once again you had been presented with a choice and instead of killing Zemo which he rightly deserved, you killed Victor. You choose Zemo again. Metal fingertips grazed yours, urging you to try, to see if your powers worked. Even though you knew how to get out of this Victor trained you specifically to, to fight Zemo. You couldn't, you wouldn't fight Zemo. Victor rested his forehead against yours and you wanted to feel relief from the strong arms wrapped around you, the hands clutching your waist, the hands that Victor swore to remove if they touched you again.

“This isn’t real.” Victor lied echoing the words you said to him in Hydra’s box, cupping your face with his hands and kind eyes.

You're not real.

Snivelling at your situation Victor lied again.“Precisely Sweetheart. I’m dead, I can’t be here, so you can’t either. It's not real, just close your eyes, it will all be over soon.”

Lying to yourself again, telling yourself that this would be the last time. This isn't real.

–

“Shhhhhh Sunshine, I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Zemo’s voice broke, soothing you again as your body jerked in his arms. Zemo sobbed into the crook of your neck, he had lost you again. He failed. Failing as he always had, he couldn't save you. You always believed in him. Your pain was indelible as was his. He did not have the heart, the compassion, the patience required, you needed someone like yourself. And there was no one quite like that, no one that could make the sun burst out of them, no one, just you. He wanted to cure your frail body, patch up your heart, slay every demon, heal every wound, wipe your tears, hold your hand as you screamed. How to take it all back? How to fix your broken heart? How to undo it all? He desecrated you and destroyed you. All of your suffering, it was all him. And you were still paying the price. He would dedicate his life to you, even if you continuously rejected him he would remain at your side forever.

He wondered who was more of a shell. Whose gaping wound that would never heal hurt the most, how much longer could he endure not being able to hold you? How much more he could repress? How much more torment he could take? How this felt like death by a thousand cuts. The conversations with himself, the back and forth and for what? What would it change now. You hated him. There wasn't a single space in his heart that didn't still love you. He wanted you to turn on him, make him suffer as you had.

He was not perturbed by the shuffling of feet in his house. New guests had arrived, perhaps they could coax a smile out of you, penetrate the towering walls you had built. Perhaps the old faces would make everything stop, if only Oeznik were here. He imagined if Oeznik were here, he wouldn’t be, he would have shot him dead the moment you were discovered. Oh how he wished he died in Sokovia, then you would be free. You had grown to detest yourself, believing you could only bring pain. You even rejected his smiles. Rebecca seemed to pain you also, he understood why, he wanted to covet her innocence, he just couldn't bring himself to force her to see the realities of the world.

“What the hell Zemo.” Bucky hissed, entering the room, lying to Sarah about checking in with General Ross, no doubt hearing two heartbeats behind this door.

“Don’t take her from me, please James.” Zemo begged, pulling you back. “She threatened to dismember herself. She does not sleep James, her mind is haunting her, automatically assuming the worst, she cannot, shhhhhhh-” He sputtered out, stroking his thumb across your knuckles, lulling you back to sleep again, bringing you closer to him, so James couldn’t snatch you away. “I regret the day she ever met us.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied softly, helplessly looking on. You would have been terrified, but Zemo was so broken, no one saw how desperate he had been all these years, how he barely slept, how every moment was hollow, the despair he had looking for you, no one had seen the regret that taunted him. There wasn't anything Zemo wouldn't do for you, how he would do anything to make you right again. How you still had all of Zemo, how your face haunted Zemo’s dreams.

“It feels as if she is dying.” Zemo admitted. Watching your own mind poison you, steal away your peace, steal away your soul. Watching you yearn for the man who sold you to Hydra. You were growing weaker and weaker by the day, refusing food, refusing sleep, refusing everything. But your thoughts, they were the darkest they had ever been and he just had to sit and watch you torture yourself. You wouldn't survive this. If Zemo could keep you asleep like this forever, safe in his arms, so at peace, he would.

“She shouldn’t have saved us.”

“That wasn’t intentional, she knew we would have prevented her, she needed us out of her way.” Zemo knew he would never have agreed to your sacrifice, he would have handed over the world and never given it a second thought. Bucky pulled the sheets from the bed and draped them over you, he sat for hours watching Zemo calm your unconscious form, somewhere in there, you knew Zemo would protect you. That wouldn’t matter now, Zemo handcuffed you to him, it was over, you would never trust either of them again. He remembered that, hiding in Bucharest, knowing he could only trust one man he couldn't quite remember, Steve. You didn't have anyone like that, not anymore. Then after Wakanda, you came along, trusted him implicitly, saw the good in everyone including him, he was only with Sarah now because a part of him, that he could have lived with, was somewhere in your mind. Not that he or Zemo were letting you go anywhere, they made a pact it would be different this time. As he watched Zemo’s tears fall onto your body, he wasn’t sure it could ever be, if he thought Zemo was over protective before, that was nothing compared to now. If this was Sarah, he would hold her and never let go. “Just a while longer James.”

–

Having no time to compose yourself hearing the rush at your door, burst open and before you could focus you were bundled by two very excited boys. AJ and Cass, the ones who felt your presence. You wanted to hug them forever.

That was short lived when Sarah rushed in pulling them off. “What did I say!” She scolded them. She held her hand out to you. You ignored her and pushed yourself back up, pulling on your sleeve to fully cover the watch still firmly wrapped around your wrist, which almost felt like Hydra's hand clamps, you stretched your fingers out, just to check that you could and Sarah’s face dropped. You forgot, forgot for a moment that now you were something to be feared, especially around her children. You would never get used to that. “I’m Sarah, I- erm, I-” She stumbled over her words, no doubt because this was an odd introduction, she knew you, you could see the disbelief on her face, that she was looking at someone she grieved for, someone who wasn’t supposed to be here, well you agreed more and more with that with each passing day.

“MEOOOOOWWWW!”

Alpine?

You looked down at your feet to a graceful white cat meowing from what you recall for the first time. She tilted her cute little head at you, you crouched down and she didn't turn on you, swishing her tail with an air of importance, she pounced into your arms, nuzzling into your chest with loud purrs. Well at least someone was pleased to see you. Running your fingers through her soft fur, you took solace in the fact that someone even if it were an animal who knew you from the past just accepted you the way you were.

“Bucky promised pancakes, let’s go.” AJ grabbed your hand and started to drag you out of the room. Bucky was here, just great, fucking perfect. Sarah started on AJ again telling him that he had just met you and he shouldn't be dragging you around, you assured her it was fine and walking behind them, you couldn't quite believe how big they had both gotten. AJ was as tall as Sam now and Cass wasn't far behind, you missed so much. You rolled your shoulders in an attempt to shake off the disgust you felt as you entered the dining room, put on that default smile that was more you showing your teeth. Rebecca was already happily chomping down and the boys soon followed. You snuggled into Alpine, taking the smallest sip of water, forgoing any food. You used to squirm under Zemos intense gaze but now, he could go fuck himself, Bucky too with his staring. Bucky hadn't even greeted you, he just watched your every move. Was he pissed you had Alpine? He took the fucking cat from you too. As soon as Rebecca shuffled down to leave the table, you stood, wanting to be as far away from adults as you could.

“Would it be agreeable to you to eat something more substantial?” Zemo whispered. Eat something more substantial? You didn’t have much of an appetite, the thought of putting a forkful of food that either of them prepared made you retch, you couldn't stop it, covering your hand with your mouth. Zemo looked stunned and you gulped, ready to mumble another apology.

“Don’t apologise. Are you unwell?”

You shook your head, Zemo gave you a look of sadness, he glanced at Bucky, who had his ear prominently in your direction and you wished you could silence your heart. Rebecca impatiently tugged on Zemo’s arm, you could see he wanted to say more, momentarily you allowed every emotion to show on your face. Fuck you, you fucking sadist. Zemo nodded as if to accept your words and everyone filed out of the room. That thing Rebecca was so impatient for, that she was scared she would miss, the rain. The fucking rain. You announced that you didn't like the rain and stayed in with Alpine, as if she would ever allow water to taint her delicate fur. Holding her, sleeping in your arms, as Bucky and Zemo watched you through the window. Declining the coffee Sarah offered you as she stood next to you, you were impressed you didn't blurt out that you weren’t allowed coffee, or baths, or your own thoughts, or to go outside, or to breathe air without Zemo’s say so. The rain caused Rebecca’s hair to stick to her face but that didn’t stop her ever so happy laughs, splashing in every forming puddle, she climbed up Bucky’s arm and he lifted her up into the air so she could be closer to the rainfall.

“Rebecca is the real magic Sweetheart, not me.” Victor said from your other side, with a dreamy tone.

She is naive.

Victor lingered with you all day, silently by your side like a bodyguard. When everyone returned from the outside, all the children wrapped in huge white towels, Zemo handed you the phone he gave you, which you didn't carry with you, as he was monitoring it. You looked at him with wary eyes, what could he have done to it? He scrolled through a few times to reveal your old playlist, he put your music onto it. Something that was yours, just yours, all of your music about pain, how could you have ever been so blind? What even was this? An apology of some kind? Still you quietly mumbled a thank you. Making an active effort to avoid both Zemo and Bucky you stayed quiet and trailed along after Rebecca all day, who was slightly jilted that the rain had stopped. Alpine wandered off when it came to dinner and as you knew, you would be told once again you couldn’t help you waited in the dining room. Watching AJ and Cass pander to whatever Rebecca wanted to do, they also showed you where some snacks were hidden and as they ate them, so did you. You slid AJ’s tablet over, careful not to search anything you opened the news. Scrolling past every awful thing going on in the world because that all could have stopped had you not killed Victor. Which he took great satisfaction in pointing out as he tutted and huffed at everything you read, making his snide little comments.

“Look at this,” You gratefully took another nut that he cracked with his metal hand. “This college kid has found a way to clear oceans and he has got funding, can you imagine all of the plastic gone? It doesn't disturb the habitat either, this is great,” You said animatedly, taking another nut. “Finally a way to clear all the damage humanity has done, this could start healing the world, you-” You lifted your head to look into Victor’s emerald eyes only to be met with blue ones. The air tore itself from your lungs, looking at the pile of nut shells underneath Bucky’s hand and a walnut in his palm. You got so distracted you thought it was Victor, damn that metal hand and by the look on Bucky’s face he figured it out, you thought he was Victor. Pushing the chair out to run, to get away, your foot caught the leg on the chair and you crashed straight down onto the hardwood floor. A hand came into your vision, coupled with the black from the fall, you turned away only to smack your face straight back into the chair. Stop it, stop it, STOP!. You felt the ghost of a touch linger on your back and shrieked, turning again, your hand slipping on the blood dripping from your nose, blindly crawling straight into the edge of the table.

The table flew into the air followed by a sickening crunch, porcelain shattering, shards of glass slicing, setting your nerves alight. Hands gripped your upper arms to stop you moving. Splinters of wood littered down as the arms shook you to stop your head jerking in every direction trying to assess where the threat was.

“You're hurting yourself, look at me!”

Sam? Sam moved his hands to gently place them at the side of your head, instinctively your hands grabbed his wrists. He was breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, nodding, wanting you mimic him. You didn't even notice him arrive, you gripped him warm wrists, shaking, seeing little flakes of sawdust rest on the hairs of his arms. You ruined dinner, now you had a moment you could smell the tomato sauce that was now painting the ceiling. Catching Zemo out of the corner of your eye, who was looking at you with concern as Rebecca marvelled at Bucky’s strength. Bucky had both boys at either side, no doubt making sure the remnants of the large table didn’t injure them. Sarah looked terrified, hands over her mouth, trembling as much as you were. Zemo handed Rebecca to her and she told the boys to follow. You shouldn't have come back, you couldn’t do this, everyday was proving that. What if you used your powers?

“What did I do?” You whispered to yourself.

“Nothing.” Zemo left no room for argument, careful to stay back. “James startled you, it’s not your fault.”

Yes it is.

–

Sam helped you clean up, somehow you did not break your nose. You had bit your tongue and Victor said you would have black eyes by the morning. You stayed in your room, waiting for Zemo to come along with his shitty pills but he didn't. Sam knocked on your door, you pretended to be asleep. Your head felt tight, crushed by the never ending thoughts and the persistent screaming. You had several texts from Maria having missed her nightly text yesterday, you promised you were fine. You desperately wanted to see her, Zemo let Sam in so Maria should be no different. After the bruises went down, she couldn’t see you like this, she wouldn't believe that it was your fault either. No more distractions, just keep your back to a wall, smile and nothing else. You were offered an ice pack by Bucky who clearly waited outside your room until you decided to leave, he insisted, so much so, you quickly realised, you would be offered it continually, by everyone until you gave in. Sam tried to make conversation with you, so did Sarah, she told you all about the boys, how they were getting on with school, how she was still running her community projects and the fishing business.

“Are you ok here?” She said so quietly you barely heard her.

“Zemo is very kind to me.” You answered with a bright smile and Victor clapped you on the back in a gesture of a job well done.

<”I believe her, Doc taught her to lie.”> Bucky muttered in Russian to Zemo. <”She still has her powers, I can feel it and I know she remembers”> Bucky said with a remorseful tone.

<”We deserve it dont we? I await the day she seeks revenge on us. As far as I can tell she does not remember anything.”>

“Sweetheart, see even they believe they should die. Just a quick clench of those fingers and that’s it, please Sweetheart.” Victor implored.

Don’t encourage me.

After dinner in which you claimed you weren't hungry again. Everyone sat out on the patio, which you learned Sam built. He spent a lot of time here while you were gone, Oeznik was mentioned and you had to blink a few times, if he were alive, you could do this. Sam had more time with his nephews taken from him and this time it was because of you. Sam suggested a picture which surprised you, surely no pictures of you were allowed ever again, you went to enough trouble to erase them all.

“No Becca, you should go and sit with your m-” Sarah cut herself off, her beautiful children, gave her a look they mastered from the woman herself telling her to shut the fuck up. Bucky ran his hands down her back and you saw her lip wobble, her jaw clenched and you wanted to tell her that it was ok, you choose this, that this was a better option to keep Rebecca safe, to keep everyone safe, she turned on her heel and marched back into the house, Bucky and Sam on her tail. Seeing Zemo in your peripheral vision you positioned yourself so Rebecca was in between you, how fucked up that you had to use her as a shield. You claimed to need the bathroom, Zemo pulled some headphones from his pocket and your phone with instructions to not remove them under any circumstance.

Slowly and silently removing your shoes, you tiptoed down the hallway, Sarah was having a harder time with this lie than anyone else. Perhaps because she had a perspective no one else did, she was a mother too and you could garner from her point of view you were being robbed of motherhood. You were already robbed, stripped of everything, surely someone had explained that it was in Rebecca's best interest to not be related to you.

“She isn’t even a person anymore. Tell her that little girl is hers.” Sarah blubbered from inside the study.

“Doll, we have been over this.”

“Bucky-”

“ENOUGH! You think it will help her to remember everything Hydra did? Everything Victor did, remember what she did?” Bucky paused as if he were considering something. “Remember what we did? You call her and Zemo a beautiful runaway love? The night he took her, he brought her here, tied her up, cut into her, shot her, that's what all those scars on her arms are. Don’t look at Sam like that he knew, we all knew. You wanna go out and tell Rebecca that her precious Uncle Bucky strangled her ma to death? Fucking do it, you think we don’t all feel like shit, WE DID THIS!”

Sarah wailed so loud you were sure her heart was physically breaking, your past hurt her, she cried for it more than you had. You put your hand on the door and knew Bucky’s head would have turned to the door, slipping off the headphones with an air of confusion, you calmly walked over to Sarah who was doing a terrible job of stopping crying and wiping away her tears, you wrapped your arms around her and asked her what happened.

–

The next day the bruises had started to set in which made you look horrendous. Sarah announced they were leaving, which you knew was your fault, they were meant to stay for a lot longer, she couldn't handle it, you could barely handle it. There was so much more noise in the house, which you couldn't seem to cope with, so much so you jumped at your own shadow straight into Zemo’s waiting arms. You hated him, you knew you hated him and yet you were intrinsically drawn to him, that was the second time you sought solace in him when you thought you were in danger. You pulled away quickly rushing to the kitchen where the kids ate on the chairs and the adults stood around. Zemo couldn't take his eyes off you, full of devotion, full of dismay. Which you couldn't quite understand, your entire relationship was a lie, what was there to be devoted to? The temptation to flaunt your empty, ring less hand in his face was only spurred on by Victor, you could imagine the distaste across his face. It’s not like you unloved Zemo randomly, it came in bits and pieces, until you had built a heart he couldn't touch, if you believed you had one left.

Did he ever love me? You asked Victor half wanting him to answer the same question, Did Victor love you for you? Or because you were the image of Valeria? Did Zemo ever love you? Could he even love? He loved Rebecca so much so you could feel it, see it in every action. Was I ever happy? You asked Victor again wanting him to answer, you didn't get one, not from either of them, how you wished you could believe that your happiness wasn't all a fallacy, did you lie to yourself for every moment? That dance? The nights in the raft? The baths? The nights Zemo stayed awake with you when you couldn’t sleep? Every touch? every kiss? Was it all a lie?

It’s limerence, not love.

Victor had an answer this time. “Remind me how you got your powers again?”

–

You were sitting outside with Zemo and Rebecca, who was insisting on the daisy chain Zemo was making for her be bigger as she intended to wear it as a crown for her newly found princess status which Victor enjoyed a little too much, reminding you that had his plan come to fruition she would have ruled the world with him and he would have forged her a real crown. In between blowing on dandelions to, in her words, 'set the fairies free.’ You wondered if you could be a fairy. She haphazardly made you a bracelet and asked Zemo if you could be royalty too and you wondered if the ground could just swallow you up. The daisy chain was falling apart in your hands much like this life. Zemo held his hand out and you clutched it to your chest, yes it was stupid and the flowers would die by morning but it was yours, and you didn't have much in this world, why the fuck would he take it from you.

“You wish to preserve this, yes?” He asked gently as you nodded and he sauntered off returning with a thick and heavy dictionary, he had lined it with paper and explained the process of pressing flowers, A way to keep Rebecca’s gift forever.

“Thank you.” You told him later on as you crept into Rebecca's room as she listened intently to Zemo, you selected one of her books and wished her a goodnight. Every book you tried to smuggle away from the study disappeared, for whatever reason Zemo didn’t want you reading them, probably thought they could trigger some awful memory, in your defence you did not finish Dracula. Right on cue the knock came on the door and you held your arm out with that bracelet weighing it down and Rebecca’s book was ripped straight from your hand. How were you supposed to continue with this turbulence? Anticipate his ill temper? What could happen in a child’s book that he didn't want you to read? Backing away with your hands in the air, you wondered what you could have possibly done to antagonise him? You hadn't given Zemo any reason to be, well Zemo.

“The princess is kidnapped in this particular story.” Zemo grumbled, yet he remained where he was, outside of your room.

“It’s a kids book, she’ll get rescued right?”

“Actually the princess Belle, falls in love with her captor.” Zemo said through gritted teeth. Victor burst into laughter and you glared at him. There were children’s books promoting this shit? You picked that one of all the ones she had? Fuck Hydra for stealing your childhood, fuck Victor for laughing, fuck Zemo, Fuck all of it. Zemo’s eyes moved in Victor’s direction and you shifted your body just in case. You waited for Zemo to ask if someone was here with you, for him to threaten to kill him, to carve Victor up and serve him to you for breakfast.

“Would you like to read it?”

“Fuck No.” You blurted out, “I mean no thank you.” You quaked, Zemo opened his mouth to reply then shook his head, more at himself, he didn’t even wish you good night, he just drifted off. As soon as he did you pointed a finger in Victor’s face warning him to keep his mouth shut, you didn’t want to know anymore about beauty and the beast.

–

Over breakfast the next morning, Rebecca tugged on your hands and motioned for you to lower yourself down to her level. She kissed her hand and prodded your purple ringed eyes, she was so sweet and kind. A treasure just like Oeznik said. “Magic kisses take all the pain away.” You watched her parrot that lie, back to you as if she truly believed it with all her heart, a lie you taught her and you felt something within you slowly but surely switch off.

Everyone took little pieces and the worst part was that you let them, you sold your soul a long time ago. To endure this, to survive it, you needed to adapt, which became surprisingly easy, especially as you just stopped feeling anything. You didn't feel disgust when Zemo came knocking with those pills, stopped feeling pangs of hunger, even the fear subsided, you became numb to it, apathetic, as if you couldn’t feel anyone there, you didn't care what Zemo did and soon after you stopped finding joy in Rebecca. You tried so hard to bask in her light. How could you enjoy her happiness when her life was a lie? She was in this hell, this prison too. She was blind to it all, you couldn't exactly tell her to open her eyes. Even the glow you once believed Zemo had was diminishing, if he ever had one, it was probably just another figment of your stupidity.

Even your natural fear response to Zemo faded, whenever he would reach out and then quickly retract his hand, you felt nothing. Nothing could hurt you, but that meant nothing could make you happy either, there wasn’t any comfort here, there was just your silence, only speaking if you were directly spoken to, placidly walking head down, through the house that you once believed was paradise, you had both burned that to ruins. You didn’t even find it demoralising when Zemo served everything to you on plastic plates in bite size pieces, no humiliation, just an aching darkness. You didn’t fit in here, but did you really fit in anywhere? Weeks passed with your despondent staring, no more smiles formed on your face, they felt foreign. Waiting for something to bring you back to life. Waiting and the only thing really you expected, was the day Hydra inevitably found you.

You used to be so good at cognitive dissonance, compartmentalising it all into neat boxes, usually marked, ‘it was an accident’ now it had all turned into a swirling pit. A hyperbole, a vacuum of lies, a vortex of pain, a self perpetuating cycle of abuse. This wasn’t living, this was existing, amongst the people you saved, the ones you swore to protect, how could you feel so profoundly alone? By putting everyone else first you had taught yourself that you come second, it was ingrained and you didn’t exactly want to die, but carrying on this way? This was worse than you could have ever imagined.

Zemo was just as bad as you if not worse, sure Rebecca could coax a smile from him, even the intonation of his voice became more empty, but his eyes always travelled to you, the burden, the inconvenience. He always seemed to be searching for something within you? Was it for you to admit you remember? The day you finally snapped? For the black soul that lived within you to take over? The latter was the only real possibility. And then there were the moments you caught his disgust. Which should bother you, but it didn't, you were as disgusted with yourself as he was. A goddess amongst ants, so powerful you were put on a pedestal, causing cities to fall, completely absolved of the responsibility and now you lived in his house, you were everything he hated, you hated yourself more than he ever could. He gave you a wide berth, you had seen his tactics before, but you appreciated that. He became colder and colder, as broken as you were and you loathed yourself for thinking you could have made this work, that it would be easier if you just held his hand. But nothing ever hurt like him. You were bonded by trauma, unhealthily attached to each other. Toxic in the highest form. Sadness etched on his face and a hard exterior that couldn't be penetrated, not that you wanted to, but Zemo was once your everything. There was no going back for him, for either of you, too much had happened, too much loss. Victor reminded you that you were the one who needed saving, Your pain was interminable because of Zemo and he was insipid, intractable.

You knew that.

But the atmosphere of the house was soul wrenching, a black cloud did not crush you, you were the black cloud, dead, empty inside and as infectious as Zemo once called you, you stole the light from everyone. Trapped in a dalliance they couldn't ward off, one you couldn't either. And as meek and as compliant as you were, it only made Zemo hang his head. You wondered who was more of a shadow of who they used to be? Whose gaping wound that would never heal hurt the most? How much longer could you keep this up? How much more could you bottle up? How much longer could you drown, gasping for air? How after another week Zemo could no longer bear to look at you and you could barely open your eyes, through the tormented sleep and hours staring at the fireplace that no longer worked as Victor begged you to kill them all.

There wasn’t any consistency to it all, only the pain. How it hurt, just to breathe. How Zemo had an answer for everything but he couldn't fix this, that you didn’t want him to, that you knew you did this, you deserve a life of misery, that you went back to the one thing you needed to walk away from and in turn were now forcing Zemo to live in this hell too. How every second felt like you were standing on the edge, to keep going or give up, how tired you were of it all, you were even hallucinating your dead mentor, soulmate, whatever he was, imagining he was here, when you knew he couldn't be. Was this survivor’s guilt? The conversations with yourself, the ups and downs and for what? What would it change now? That no matter how much you tried, you would always be the problem.

“Don’t give in, fight back Sweetheart, for me.”

Instead of answering you rolled over in bed and closed your eyes. Keep fighting? What for? There wasn’t anything to fight for anymore.

–

Arriving at the New York division of the Wakandan outreach programme you knew you were supposed to feel something, but it just reminded you that Zemo did this either out of obligation to Wakanda or to you. Guilt, the guilt that Wanda told you would eat them alive and despite your efforts something was eating him alive. Eating all of them alive, you could see it on their faces the moment they saw you. You were losing weight rapidly, face gaunt, eyes sullen, lips chapped, skin discoloured, the only reason your hair was brushed was because of Rebecca, Zemo point blank refused to do your hair, so you tried to match it just by eyeballing what he had done. Bucky looked as if he were ready to force feed and then start world war three. Go ahead.

Unsurprisingly you were placed in a courtyard, with very high brick walls. Bored out of your mind, kicking stones around, shut out again and unable to do anything. You opened the outdoor cabinet to find logs. But then this was New York City, plenty of old buildings, so fireplaces were common. Buildings and houses not as old as Castle Doom but old enough. How long were you expected to be out here? Maybe you could carve something with your nails? Something? Anything? You started to remove all of the logs, even just to count them to pass the time finding an axe at the bottom. Well it was something to do. Your sunglasses could serve as safety goggles, not that you cared. Despite knowing your muscles were weaker, that you were weaker, you brought the axe down.

Over and over.

You managed to split one log into eight before you felt a searing gaze on your neck. Dropping the axe out of your hand, you wondered if you could gaslight Zemo as he had to you. Just say there isn't an axe, you can’t see an axe. Just apologise immediately and he would drop it. Really you weren't trying to piss him off, you imagined the person who left this out here was in for worse than you were.

“Explain yourself.” Zemo demanded.

And you could kind of understand why he was angry, but in your defence you hadn't chopped off your arm and you had enough time, shouldn't you get points for that? Yet Zemo looked incensed as frustrated as he had that morning and that was the moment you realised, you weren't even sure he cared about the axe, he more pissed about what happened earlier.

–

That Morning.

–

Sitting at the kitchen counter as the dining room currently had no table and orange stains on the walls, you patiently waited for Rebecca to finish her egg on toast. Zemo got a phone call and excused himself, you didn't need to look up to know there would be a warning in his eyes, not to touch the cutlery to wait until he returned and he would cut up your breakfast only for you to not eat it. Diminished to such treatment, but it was expected. Picking at your nails, wondering if today would bring anything different to yesterday, you felt a small hand on your thigh, scooching back, Rebecca climbed onto your lap. With her own cutlery she started to cut your toast into neat rows. Three years old and she had some of that etiquette Zemo taught you. She encouraged you to try, pulling your hands to the plate, gently praising you for being able to complete such a simple task. Leaving the toast half finished she climbed back to her own chair, took her cutlery back and hummed happily to herself.

“Why did you help me?” You asked cautiously.

“Helping is the best,” She put one hand on her chest. “Makes my heart all fuzzy and warm.”

Glowing.

You loved her, truly you did, but to watch this, to have to witness the joyful creature she was. It was breaking you down. What had they done? How could they let this happen? Finally, finally, you could say this wasn’t your fault, she was just like you and you weren't even here.

“I’m so sorry Sweetheart.”

Your own plate lifted in front of you, Zemo had come back into the room, you didn’t acknowledge him, you couldn’t stop staring at Rebecca. Even when Zemo asked her to fetch her shoes, your eyes followed her every movement, even when you couldn’t see her, you just stared at the door.

“Sunshine, are you planning to continue starving yourself?”

What? Zemo picked off a small piece of egg with a fork, your stomach flipped so violently, you only just made it to the kitchen sink, retching into it only bringing up bile. Shuddering at yet another mistake, another reason to entice Zemo into violence. “I’m so sorry, I’ll eat it, I promise.”

–

Breakfast, the explanation he wanted, your fingers trailed your lips, tasting the ghost of bile on your tongue, Zemo didn’t make you eat any of it. “I didn’t take Rebecca's cutlery, she thinks I don’t know how to use a knife, I’ll tell her not to help-” You cut yourself off, you were going to cry and you couldn’t let that happen. Trying to convey yet another apology, you returned to the courtyard. Making sure you were as far from the axe as possible, you sat down, putting your head in your hands, you didn’t know how you could carry on. Feeling the air shift as someone plopped down next to you.

“It was hard for me too at first,” Bucky started and you rolled your eyes. Warden number two here to tighten the noose. Yes it must have been extremely difficult, difference was, he got Wakanda, he got endless kindness and more importantly freedom, Shuri let him leave, T’Challa, didn’t monitor his every fucking breath, “It gets better, you just need time,” You didn't need time, you needed something else, you had no idea what that was, and as Bucky kept talking you realised what they were waiting for, they were still waiting for you to come home, No matter how docile you were, compliant, silent, you would never live up that image, you weren't the same person anymore and your presence only exasperated that. Letting him trail off you got to your feet, walking away from Bucky, walking away from this, you found Zemo in the exact same spot he was before, disgust on his face until the mask of an approachable openness slid on as he saw you.

“Can I call Maria?” You huffed out, you didn’t carry that shit phone Zemo gave you anywhere and the one Maria gave you was safely tucked inside your mattress, pretending not to see that refusal flash in his eyes. “Zemo, I have to leave.”

“You, you don’t know what you are saying, you have no idea what’s out there.” Bucky said nervously, planting his hand on your shoulder and you wanted to fucking scream, purposely looking at his hand, you wanted to ask why they both felt comfortable touching you, why they assumed they had an open invitation, tell them both that they should be the ones locked up, that they shouldn't be out in the public, that it horrified you that they were, you were deeply disturbed by them both, that if he didn’t get his fucking hands off you, you were going to make him. That at this point, you didn't care what or who was out there, you would take your chances, because it had to be better than this. Bucky, uncomfortable at your focus on his hand, slipped it off, exhaling you knew you had to get through to Zemo, to convince him and the only real way you could see to do that was through Rebecca. You held your hands out, Zemo’s eyes bounced in between your hands and your eyes, he made a valiant effort not to touch you these days, you nodded, giving him permission, you squeezed his soft scarred hands once they made contact.

“Zemo, Rebecca can see what you are doing. She will look back and remember that you became miserable was the day I appeared. You are withering away, we both are, I can’t do this. You have to let me go.” You looked into his eyes and reflected back at you his own admittance, that he knew you were right. You smiled as much as you could at him, nodding hoping he would puppeteer you, that you would both be on the same page, he relinquished one hand to put in his pocket, to get his phone and you heaved a sigh of relief. That was short lived, when you heard Bucky move closer to you, the hairs on your neck stood on end, you snatched your other hand away from Zemo. Knowing that if Victor were here, he would tell you to scream that you remember, that you remember every last thing, planting your feet ready to push off, to break the door just behind Zemo down, hopefully before he jabbed you with one of those needles.

<”She is going to bolt.”> Bucky whispered.

“SARAH!” You shouted at the suspicious eyes of Zemo and Bucky. They could sedate you in front of Sarah, but she wouldn’t let it go, she was already asking questions, already connecting the dots. She came pounding down the stairs, talking over Zemo and Bucky who no doubt were feeding her a line, you spoke slowly and clearly. “If you have the keys, open the door.” You didn’t even look in her direction, you concentrated on Bucky and Zemo’s feet, you didn’t need to plead with your eyes, she would do it or she wouldn’t.

“Doll, Sarah, DOLL you need to think about this.” Bucky urged. She took a single step towards the door and as Bucky matched her step she screamed for Sam. You wanted to feel guilty at getting everyone involved in this but this was as close as you would ever get to freedom. Still watching Bucky's feet as he was the fastest, tension filtered into the air. All of the children were upstairs alone, yes there were many good people from Wakanda, but was Zemo really ok with that? Lifting your eyes to the ceiling, a thump came from above you all and you dodged out of the way as Zemo and Bucky tore up the stairs. Sarah raced the door, fumbling with the keys in her hand. You wished you had time to tell her how thankful you were. The door opened and as you stepped through it a firm grip stretched around your upper arm. Sarah wasn’t having any of it pushing Sam as hard as she could, she stood in between you, tall and defiant. Sarah knew, she knew there was more going on than she was being told. Standing in between you, Captain America, The Winter Soldier and Baron Zemo.

A fierce bold courageous woman.

“I got this.” Even though she sounded scared, she was sure and ready to fight. You listened to your body, the years it had told you that running was the best option and you didn't listen, fuck you were listening now. You pretty much just used Rebecca as bait and you would be killed for that alone. Taking off down the street you didn’t look back, asking the first person where the closest police station was you kept going, you were going to turn yourself in. Ensure the world was safe from you and you would be safe from Hydra, ask the officers to call Maria. Reaching a small station quickly you were asked to wait until someone was available. You let your head rest back and closed your eyes feeling weary, exhausted.

“Officer, that is the protege of Zebediah Killgrave, remember him?” Sam had burst through the door commanding the room with all the authority of Captain America. Zebadiah? You remembered coming across that name, Mr Purple, a man who terrorised the city, had the ability to manipulate, control and brainwash anyone just with his words. Now that was clever, almost too clever, the perfect way to shut you up, to stop you speaking, because not a person would believe you now or let you talk and as every gun simultaneously lifted aimed in your direction, fuck you wished someone would. “I got this.” Sam growled and grabbed at your upper arm again and you stared daggers at him as he manhandled you back out onto the street.

“Get off me, you asshole.”

“You are the biggest pain in my ass you know, just running off, where are you gonna go?”

Far fucking away. Wrestling against his pull he dragged you into what looked like a very upscale bar, a place you were not dressed for, which was evident by you both being stopped, but Sam bypassed that with a few choice words whispered into the concierge’s ear. Being Captain America really did have its perks. And Sam looked pissed, crazy pissed. Pissed that he would have had to explain how you just wandered off to Bucky and Zemo though you suspected he was more pissed at having to go up against Sarah, truly a force to be reckoned with. The only words you intended to express was a need to speak with Maria. Being poured whisky on a crisp white table cloth, just served as yet another reminder who they wanted back, and how much things had changed.

“Look, I know Zemo is an ass. He can be reasonable, he can, just talk to him.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, despite the fact you had heard Sam say this to you before, but that was in regards to Bucky. Zemo could be all of those things, but not with you. He had no control whatsoever. “Would Steve agree with you?” You jabbed, As Sam’s face dropped you lifted your glass to a toast. “To Captain America, a hero,“ You continued bitterly, “To the man you turn to when all hope is lost, a beacon of light, the hero who is supposed to fight for my freedom.”

Sam didn’t meet your glass he couldn’t, he couldn't be your hope, he couldn't grant your freedom. Lips set into a grim line, he at least looked ashamed. It was a low blow to compare him to Steve, to someone he spent years trying to live up to, lowering the glass, you traced a finger of the rim, still not taking a sip. Sam had not even touched his own whisky. You thought he was more of a beer kind guy, anyway. In fact not even his fingers touched it, made no attempt to even pretend. It was as if you had tunnel vision, zooming into the glass, breathing becoming ragged when it dawned on you. Sam hadn’t touched the whisky, because it wasn’t his drink.

Slamming your hands on the table to high tail it out of here before Zemo arrived you were met with his large hands covering your own, crushing his weight down onto your fingers. You tried to pull away, yank yourself away with the remaining strength you had left. Zemo wasn’t angry, he wasn’t upset, he wasn’t even disappointed, if anything he looked defeated.

“SAM! Sam, I can’t go back, I-” Your mouth fell open at Sam, sitting calmly, a blank look on his face, none of that scared you, no, his molten golden eyes did. “Sam?” You tried, quickly checking Zemo’s eyes weren’t the same, Zemo didn’t look remotely alarmed, if anything he looked flustered, flushed as if he ran here. swinging back to Sam only to see more molten golden dots, servers paused pouring wine, some halted with trays in their arms, patrons mid drink all statuesque. Had time stopped? That question was answered quickly when every single person made their way towards the entrance, including Sam. There was that cement feeling again, pouring over you, unable to move, unable to speak, frozen stiff. Your senses only came back to you when the crowd leaving revealed a tall pale man with a slight smirk on his face, his own molten eyes, with one hand in the hair. Druig. You read about him too, he could control minds. The thought alone of having your mind tampered with like that, being controlled in such a way, would you even be aware of what you were doing? You had to bargain for the best possible outcome. You weren’t even perturbed by thick metal shutters coming down the windows and doors, locking you inside with Zemo.

“Zemo, I’ll do anything you want, anything please, please, don’t do that to me.” You begged.

“Anything?” Zemo questioned, the undertone of what that could mean, a vulgar and vile implication. “You shouldn't make agreements without knowing exactly what is required of you.” Zemo gently lifted his hands as your head started darting around, looking for a way out, looking for Victor, for fucking anything. Zemo didn’t need the house, he never needed the house, he only ever needed himself, that was enough,, to keep you contained. Looking for your last fucking brain cell because you still hadn’t quite got the hang of that. You agreed to leave the raft with Zemo without question. Agreed to go with Victor without hesitation and still here you were agreeing to stupid stupid shit. “Do you really believe anyone can save you now?” Zemo rasped. You didn’t there was no one, what was Zemo about to tell you, you would be serving a lifetime term in the basement? You would never see the light of day again? “The only person capable of such a feat is yourself.”

Not even hearing that last sentence, beginning to hyperventilate. “I’m very very sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” Zemo reached over the bar selecting a bottle of wine. “You have nothing to apologise for. You are not responsible for this.” He held up the bottle for your approval and you stood there slack jawed, what in the fresh fuck did he mean? What did he want? What was this? He poured the deep scarlet liquid into a wine glass, a glass not plastic, keeping himself at arms length he offered it to you with nothing left but his humility. “Sunshine, the war is over, I know when I am beaten. You cannot fight and neither can I, you and Rebecca will be relocating to Wakanda, I'm afraid it may take a few days-”

You held your hand up stopping him, there was no way you heard him right. “You're abandoning her? Handing her off? To a stranger?” Voice embellished so he understood, that is exactly what your parents did to you. As Zemo opened his mouth to defend himself, you continued. “Where will you be?”

“I will be turning myself in for my crimes against you, Maria will make the appropriate arrangements.”

He might just be the worst person you had ever met, leaving Rebecca with you, a stranger, handing her over so easily. A malevolent smile spread across your face, reaching out for the wine you sat down. You let the wine slide down your throat in triumph, you had him, he could say whatever he wanted, only now the bruises around your eyes had faded. There wasn’t a mark on your body, he didn't have anything to corroborate his story and most importantly, Maria would believe you. “Call Maria, I'll even speak to her for you.”

Zemo’s lips pursed. “I watch your animated corpse wander my halls, you die everyday. I am detrimental to you. You have become hyper vigilant, not prioritising your basic needs, reactive, distorted negative beliefs about yourself. You are in survival mode and I must concede. It would be negligent of me to allow this to continue. I have to force you, force you to choose yourself.” All you could hear was his devastation, for the situation you were in, for where you both were now. “I talk myself in circles searching for compromises for your freedom. I can only apologise for my behaviour, I will never forgive myself, my transgressions are extensive, endless. I have made many mistakes in my life, they all pale in comparison to you.” Zemo stumbled over his words. Zemo of all people. ”You remind me of what I am. A depraved and cruel man, in Wakanda, you can-”

“Rebecca loves you, you can't leave her.”

“Rebecca is safe, loved, happy. Your needs surpass hers.”

“I don’t care.”

“I am aware of that. That's the crux of it, Sunshine, you do not care enough about yourself to see.” Zemo said exasperated, beaten down, the mask he always had slipped he looked just as fragile as you were. “You’re screaming, watching you torment yourself, it breaks me, my very soul, I couldn’t have envisioned a life so…. I want so much for you Sunshine, so much more than this.”

As the silence stretched between you, you saw that Zemo left his coat behind, his sword, stripped bare of his armour, of his weapons. His pallor looked that of a sickly man, pasty, as if he had just vomited himself, or came down from a panic attack, he looked vulnerable, scared even. Resigned and hopeless, as if his emotions would spill over at any moment.

“You don't trust everyone in Wakanda enough to GIVE AWAY your daughter.”

“I trust several individuals with Rebecca, she is not as reckless as I find you to be. She does not have a natural trepidation for danger. You truly have an incredible resolve, a passionate stubborness that cannot be tamed. So tell me Sunshine, what do you suggest?” Was Zemo giving you carte blanche? Letting you decide what happens from now on? You didn't know how to answer, you had never dreamed of your future, somehow you knew you wouldn't be the person choosing it. “I suspect you haven't ever had the opportunity to dictate your own life? What do you want?”

“I want to be free” But I know I can't be.

“ I understand your desire to have that Sunshine, I do. There are external forces at play. As a result of my actions, of my history there is a high possibility that you will be targeted.” Zemo sounded so wounded, a deep sense of morose in his tone. “Allow me to be candid, I am mentally unstable, I have let's refer to it as control issues. I have become fixated on you, unhealthy so. It is as if every emotion I have is directed at you, my feelings are incomprehensible. I feel as though I cannot live without you, I know that is incredibly unfair However I must ensure you are protected.”

“I’ll go to Wakanda, just me.” You relented.

“Sunshine-”

“NO.”

“Would you be open to a negotiation?” Zemo forever in a position of power wasn't used to being defied, let alone forced to compromise, it just wasn't something that happened you could hear that now in his words as they rattled in your mind. Negotiate with a terrorist, now that you would be willing to try your hand at, negotiate with Zemo? You can’t be negotiated with.

“I swear I am open to this discussion, we can establish new rules.” Zemo tried. No. “I promise that I can and will strive to be less intolerable.” he urged. No. “I vow to, I assure you I take my vows very seriously.” He said sincerely. I bet you do, the answer is still no. Zemo looked pained, took the last sip of his whisky and shook his head sadly, a desperate smile ghosted his lips. Even he knew that him being reasonable was implausible.

“I give you my word.”

That got your attention, something shifted between you. Victor gave his word and his word was binding, absolute. Zemo was attempting to give you a sense of security, even if it meant invoking Victor. “Start over, not afresh as such but with experience.” Just as you originally intended, you could fight with Zemo everyday or just coexist. You didn't agree on anything, but that wasn't a new sensation. Start over? It was only fair to see if Zemo could in fact be agreeable.

“Take this off.” You let your wrist fall to the table with a loud clatter, you wanted that torture device off, immediately. And yet Zemo did not seem to receptive of your demand, the first hurdle and he failed.

“That device allows me to see your pulse, I take great comfort in knowing that your heart beats.”

“Can’t I wear a fitness watch?”

“That is an excellent idea.” Zemo smiled. “Anything else?”

“I don’t want to take the pills, I want any and all cameras gone, I want the age restriction taken off netflix.”

“There are no cameras inside our home whatsoever. I think the rest goes without saying.”

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore.” You admitted.

“The last few years have hardened me, changed me, so much one hardly recognises oneself. A hardship I believe you understand all too well. Fear is your companion now, that is my fault. I am unable to take that from you Sunshine, I desperately wish I could. Know that I will never give you a reason to fear me, not ever again.”

“You actually believe you can do this?”

“James can hear a slight strain on your heart.” Zemo's eyes became glassy. “ It is not a matter of choice, I know that if I do not, you will die.”

You shook your head at yourself, because you believed him, after everything you believed him, trusted in every word he said. You looked at him, you just looked at him and wondered if it was even possible? Wanting to drown in his optimistic eyes and drown you would, one way or another. Zemo pushed the edge of your half empty, half full crystal glass towards you. Wine? Well something had to give you the courage, to agree to try again, to find your way back to some semblance of life, to have even a single shred of hope.

“I must be out of my fucking mind.”

–

Zemo pulled the fire alarm to open the door, an escape, a safety precaution, so simple yet concealed. He informed you that the bar was one of his many establishments, Zemo also invested in commercial property. You and Victor never looked for that, only for any new residential property. Finding a crowd of mindless zombies walking in central park, you kept your distance from Druig. According to Zemo he turned on his own kind for humanity, he valued that above everything else, Zemo also told you Druig would never ever be permitted to control your mind.

“I told you Zemo would come around if you talked to him.” Sam worriedly looked at you both, not quite believing his own words.

"And he is still an asshole.” You said firmly and very loudly, hearing Druig chuckle as he walked off.

“I am.” Zemo agreed wholeheartedly. And off you both went to find a fitness watch, you selected the cheapest one, blue in colour to not show any detection or preference for any colour from your past. Zemo purchased the most expensive black one, which he set up as you sat on a bench on Wall Street. Taking tiny nibbles of a burrito Zemo brought you, annoyed you just got another lump of sauce on the large sunglasses, you decided of your own volition to ask one of the many questions in your mind.

“I have to wear the cap and glasses, Sam does, Bucky does. Why don’t you?”

Zemo eyebrows pinched, he shuffled himself along the bench, creating a bigger space between you, surveying the hustle of New York, he cleared his throat and adopted as much of a carefree tone as he could. “I want my enemies to find me.”

No more burrito, you appreciated that he was honest, but you knew what happened when Zemo met his enemies. There were a million more questions you wanted to ask, but did you really want the answers? Did you want to watch him lie to you? You offered him the remainder of your burrito and to your shock he took a bite.

“Burrito guy is kind of cute, can I run away with him?” You said playfully, wanting to change the subject while watching Zemo to see if you could make him choke on his food. Zemo’s eyes lifted to you with a glint, he was amused that you were bold enough to say such a thing. He turned his attention to the man tending to his food cart. Crouching down to sort his supplies, napkins, chilli sauce, a pigeon swooped down and pecked at the onions and the man didn’t even look up, the pigeon flew away unnoticed. Hardly an acceptable candidate to keep you safe.

“Absolutely not.” Zemo said through laughter. Walking back to the outreach centre you noticed Zemo managed to ward enough anyone in your path with a single look in their direction, you must be the only person in New York City who wasn’t bumped into. Zemo walked ahead of you into the courtyard, picking up the axe and holding it out to you.

“Your life is your prerogative Sunshine. I do need to ask you for a favour, well two actually.” Taking the axe you narrowed your eyes, here it was the catch. “Firstly please refrain from cutting off your limbs.” He said that with a smile he reserved for when he had to be polite and he didn’t want to be. " Please be kinder to yourself.”

–

Zemo shook you awake once you arrived back, you didn’t know if it was the vibrations of the car, or just that the never ending tension in your spine had dulled slightly. Or if it was that Zemo made a point to tell you exactly where you were going before you just woke up in a new place. You did wonder what you had done? if you made the right choice? Rebecca was sleeping too, Zemo had been out in the city and didn't arrive back until late to take you both home. Could this place ever be your home?

Zemo gently pulled Rebecca from the car, rested her head on his shoulder and walked away from the house. You trailed next to him in silence knowing he was walking towards the pond, which now had a bench installed. The moon glittered on the surface as you heard the leaves rustle in the wind. Rebecca’s face squished against Zemo’s chest, slightly frowning as he sat down, he didn't speak until you sat down too.

“I lost someone very dear to me recently.” Zemo spoke lowly, moving Rebecca’s hair out of her face. “I always believed they guided me to be better, to do better, I’m not sure they ever did,” Me? “A gentle soul, saw the good in everyone including myself.” Zemo laughed ironically, knowing how much of a mistake that was for you. “The only person to call me out on my bullshit so blatantly.” Zemo smiled as if he remembered something specific, you wondered what it was. “I don’t know why I feel obligated to tell you this, I did not think it possible to die of a broken heart, “ Zemo's voice shook. “He did.”

He?

Oeznik

Zemo shifted slightly to reveal a plaque engraved with his name, a lump formed in your throat that constricted all of your air, wedged there to prevent the oncoming explosion.

“The loss of Rebecca’s mother tore him apart, the years without her, he missed her terribly, he devoted himself to Rebecca in her honour.” Zemo stood taking controlled breaths through his mouth. “Oeznik would have adored you too.”

Your heart lurched, you snapped your jaw shut and clenched your teeth as Zemo silently laid his coat on the bench and walked away. It must have taken everything he had to have kept walking, the gutteral noise that tore from you, even you never wanted to hear again. Inconsolable tears of grief poured out of you. Crying so much you thought your chest was being ripped open. Your skull shook with sobs as your hand traced his name, swearing you would do anything to bring him back. The wailing into the night just wishing he were here, crying harder when you thought about how he would console you, which only made your heart ache more.

The sun rose as your cries turned into hiccups. As you tried to steady your breaths to stop your diaphragm spasming, you felt lighter, there was something cathartic about crying, something freeing about letting it all out, even if just for one night, you sat up when you heard leaping footsteps and the giggles of your daughter running towards you, straight past, jumping without any fear at all into the pond. She emerged squealing, as you raced to the edge. Zemo waded in until he had to start swimming too. Of course she could swim, she was Zemo’s daughter, if she couldn’t he would have had the pond filled. Slipping off your shoes and paddled over to her as she encouraged you over, She was more confident in the water than you, probably a stronger swimmer. She wrapped her arms around your neck and moved her face to your ear.

“Careful of the crocodiles.”

–

After hours in the pond where Rebecca herself played the crocodile, she gave up when squirrels descended on you all, waiting patiently at Oeznik's bench for her to emerge. The nuts you ate earlier that month were for the squirrels who took them directly from her hand, then would scurry off to bury them. When she started to shiver she placed a hand on the bench and looked up into the sky with a bright smile on her face, she whispered Schatzi to herself. Which Zemo told you meant treasure. Just when you thought you couldn’t want Oeznik back anymore. Even after Rebecca was in dry clothes and bundled in blankets she shivered, She cosied up to Zemo and it wasn’t long until her eyes fluttered closed, tiring herself out from chasing after you all morning. Soon after that Zemo closed his eyes rhythmically stroking her hair, just as he used to with yours.

“Fine, even I’ll admit that's adorable.” Victor gritted as you watched them, It was moments like this you needed to hold onto. You hovered closeby, watching both their chest rise and fall, as they slept soundly. They say people know when they are being watched Zemo certainly did, the moment his eyes twitched, you rushed to grab his hands, recalling Oeznik's demonstration of waking a sleeping soldier. You quickly realised his instincts as a father were stronger, you flinched away with an apology. Apprehensive at being alone with Zemo, you felt the need to busy yourself, you moved towards the hallway.

“I need to return these to you.” Zemo said as he caught up, in his hands were the shoes Sarah brought with her, shoes with laces, no guesses for why they were taken from you. “I have some other purchases in the dining room.”

Purchases? Zemo provided everything here which you hated, you never felt comfortable taking his money, but you didn’t have much choice in the matter. Opening the door, you were greeted with every type of pillow available to mankind, square shaped, U shaped, V shaped, memory foam, cotton, firm, soft. Every type of blanket, comforter, duvet imaginable. Bed sheets with such a high thread count you weren’t sure it was possible.

“You are reluctant to sleep, perhaps you had something like this before? Do you feel drawn to any particular item?”

No? You just felt uncomfortable being put on the spot, on having to select something, when you had enough difficulty with everything as it was. You felt awkward that Zemo was trying to take care of you again, nervous to accept it, worried that none of this would ever make you feel comfortable in a bed again, remembering the last time Zemo wanted to take care of you, he built you a house, you started to scratch the palm of your hand.

“Sunshine. The very idea of me caring for you makes your skin crawl, these items are for you to care for yourself.” Zemo said with an air of authority. Piled over the chairs that remained in here, as there wasn’t a table yet, were stacks of long sleeve baggy t-shirts, more leggings, thick fluffy socks.

“I have clothes.” You uttered.

“Clothing that was purchased in an emergency, they are all polyester.” Zemo said dismissively with just a touch of disgust.

“To be fair I didn’t let you wear that either.” Victor added. Let me? Victor looked back at you unashamed matching Zemo's expression. Polyester was beneath both of them.

“I have marked a line in the bathtub as an indicator for the water.” Zemo handed you a wrapped waterproof pillow. “If you use this in combination, it will be very difficult to slip under.” Zemo encouraged. “And micro fibre towels, they are kinder to your skin, some basic skincare too.” Zemo said shyly. Nothing could save your skin, you highly doubted a towel would and there wasn’t a miracle cream out there. “I would suggest trying the weighted blanket, supposedly it aids sleep.” As overwhelmed as you were, you saw the weighted blanket for what it was, a substitute for your cloak. Zemo was willing to put aside his unbridled hate for Victor for you. “And a Loro Piana coat.” Zemo’s pitch went up, this was something he was more comfortable with, holding up the coat to you. It was an exact replica of the coat he had made for you, the emerald green coat, only this one was black. Your favourite colour. Was Zemo accepting of it now? Or would he rather you never wear emerald green again? “A new phone, the one I gave you originally is,” Zemo paused, thinking what to say. A blatant intrusion of privacy? just as you imagined this ‘new’ one would be too, “broken.” Zemo smiled, “and a new bedroom.”

“Why?”

“The master bedroom is…. can feel too large, empty at times. You will be taking the room next to Rebecca, the fireplace is still functional.”

Lips quirking just at the thought of getting the fireplace back. Maybe being closer to Rebecca would make you feel more at peace, maybe there was some merit in the weighted blanket, maybe choosing your own bedding up would help. And if not then it wasn’t like you would be losing anything more. Side eyeing Victor to make sure he would be moving to the new room with you, you agreed.

“Sunshine,” Zemo cleared his throat uncomfortably. “There is the possibility that you shared your bed before, you might be missing that comfort?”

With you? That was years ago?

“No no Sweetheart. Your darling husband thinks you shared a bed with me.”

Staring at Zemo with wide unbelieving eyes and a sneer forming on your face, you decided to make it very clear that was not the case. “I don’t even remember having a bed.” You quipped. The only time in your life that you did was with Bucky and Zemo; you had never been afforded such a luxury at other times. Zemo frowned, trying to understand, he knew you had a bed, he was tortured by the memories of your body against his. As despicable as he found Victor he wouldn’t have forced you to sleep on the floor, he would need to consult with Maria. You both heard the excited footsteps of a tiny human approach and you were glad Rebecca was right on time.

“Look!” Rebecca chimed, whipping round only to fall back into Zemo, not to find solace in his arms, to get as far away as you could from the incredibly large spider that was at least half the size of Rebecca's head crawling up her arm. “It tickles.” She hummed. IT TICKLES!

“Rebecca, maybe you should take your friend outside?” You shrilled. Pushing yourself further back and into Zemo, who kept moving back himself, trying to keep that distance between you. Rebecca moved closer with the spider in the air with two hands and it was bigger, than both her little hands. You swore the wretched thing heard your thoughts, he happily crawled back up Rebecca’s arm and onto her face, her eyes followed still sparkling and you were ready to set the house of fire. Reaching back, you clutched the collar of Zemo’s shirt and pushed him in front of you. Get that thing off her now! Zemo laughed at you, he actually laughed and you would have punched him, had he not let the spider crawl off Rebecca's face into his hands.

“I find it inexplicable that you are frightened of spiders.”

Unable to keep your eyes off its eight hairy legs, it’s black round eyes that you swore were looking at you. “I’m, I’m not scared.” You lied, grasping onto the walls, trying to climb them yourself. Zemo and Rebecca both looked at each other then turned on you, both stifling mocking giggles. “Here is what we are going to do,” You took a small side step keeping your eyes on the creature that Zemo was happy to let wander on his form. “We are all going to walk very slowly to the front door. Then Rebecca you are going to hold Mr spider just for a second, Zemo you open the door and I’ll run,” You took another step indicating for them to follow. “Then you will walk, far, far, far away from the house and let him go.” You continued side stepping, until you reached the door holding up a hand, you didn’t want that thing any closer. Rebecca happily took the spider, Zemo repressed yet another derisive smile as he slowly walked towards you.

“What are you waiting for!”

“Sunshine, are you not capable of opening a door by yourself?” He whispered. No, not this door, not in this house, you know it’s a prison. Zemo, please! He gestured for you to try. Hearing a very subtle click as your hand made contact with the knob, it recognised your fingerprints. Zemo understood that you needed to be able to open doors freely, to always have some form of escape, not complete freedom, but it certainly made you feel less trapped. You swung the door and ran knowing you should feel appreciation for being able to freely be outside without permission or Zemo, but you were too busy, rubbing your hands over your body, that spider might have friends.

–

You all made homemade pizza together for dinner. Zemo told you that if you prepared your own food, you would be able to trust he hadn't laced it with anything. Pizza his way of showing you he was compromising. Grated cheese littered the floor, Rebecca's hands were covered in tomato sauce that she routinely licked off her fingers. She selected only red peppers as her topping as it was her favourite and you wondered how immoral it would be to manipulate her to prefer a new colour. You moved your cloak and daisy chain to your new room, your most treasured possessions, as Rebecca went down for the night, you contemplating starting a fire when Zemo knocked on your door.

“Sunshine,” Zemo said firmly. “I am the prisoner now, I am no stranger to incarceration. I will be either in my room or office and I will seek permission to move between the two.” Zemo looked over your head, seeing that you had not yet made your bed, having only selected some sheets, not even a pillow. He didn’t show any emotion on his face even though you expected disappointment. "I will not encroach on your private space again. Goodnight Sunshine.”

Free roam? Well as much as Zemo could allow and as tempting as it was and as much as you should get a true layout of the house, you knew that opening doors here, just wasn’t in your best interest. You didn’t know what they would lead to, what you would see, you concluded some doors should remain closed. This house, this prison used to be a shelter and yes you would have to ignore what lay beneath. It wasn’t a lie, you weren't swallowing the truth, you knew the basement was just under your feet. Finding yourself in the kitchen, you started to put away the tornado from the pizza’s. Washing the chopping boards, plates, bowls, leaving the knives exactly where they were. There was no reason to rock the boat and honestly you weren't sure if you trusted yourself.

“Sweetheart, You are better than this. These asinine tasks? Don’t-”

“Achievements are achievements, no matter how small.” You told me that.

“Doing the dishes is not an achievement.” Victor growled. Says who? You? Zemo? Bucky? I have to fill the time with something Victor, I’m already halfway to insane. Now you knew there weren't cameras, you could talk out loud, even if were all they would see was you talking to yourself, arguing with yourself, which you felt as if you had been doing all your life. You ewminded Victor that he envied you for your being so adaptive, you had to be again, find a new way to live. If that meant doing the housework then so be it. Even if it could quieten your mind for just ten minutes you would do it. Drying the chopping board, only to realise you didn’t know where it was kept now, the kitchen wasn’t the same. Opening cupboards, pulling out a mixer, a blender, a rolling pin, removing utensils, plates, champagne glasses, whisky tumblers, a slow cooker. Before you knew it every cupboard was empty, you stood amongst the chaos, ready to begin again.

–

“Oh no!”

What's wrong?

Lifting your head with a groan to Rebecca standing in the doorway of the kitchen with her hands over her mouth, hair all messy and a nightie just slightly lopsided. Her golden eyes rounded as she took the scene in. Which meant you had to look at what she could see, you needed more than a second to fully come to your senses, feeling the indented lines from the mixer across your face, you feel asleep hunched over it.

“I’ll clear it up.” You rushed out, half of the contents of the kitchen was still splayed across counters, haphazardly thrown across the island, scattered across the floor.

Zemo didn’t show a single emotion on his face. “No, your task is not completed.” Zemo lifted Rebecca up, carefully took a step into the kitchen. Setting Rebecca down on the island, he picked up the first bowl he laid his eyes on and asked you to pass the cereal, which was in the far corner of the room. Navigating through this mess was easy for you, you had been doing it unknowingly all your life, it was easy for Zemo too as he joined you. “Sunshine, please make this your home. If you need to rearrange the kitchen, anywhere do so. If you need to tear this house apart brick by brick, do so. If you need to flatten cities, I will be by your side."

Unsure that you heard him and not another on of Victor's tirades, you had to check.“You would watch as I flatten cities?”

“No I would show you precisely how to execute such an idea.” Zemo insisted as if he weren't trying to disparage you. Victor’s smile widened significantly, just want you needed Victor in one ear begging you to kill everyone and Zemo in the other handing you a gun. No one is flattening cities. You had both seen and lived the consequences of that. It was a once in a lifetime event. You thrust the cereal into Zemo's chest and he had the nerve to look hurt that you rejected his idea.

“No one is doing that ever again.” You said out loud, ensuring that he understood that it was in no way permission for him to do such a thing either. Zemo gave a weak nod and backed off. Victor opened his mouth to plead with you and you gave him a warning glance as Zemo’s back was turned. “How, how does this house even work? If it is totally off the grid how do you pay for electricity and water?” You asked.

“I siphon it all from a farmer down the road," Zemo said casually, trying to make sense of the tangle in Rebecca’s hair as she ate her cereal sitting crossed legged on the island. His offhandedness about it, that it was completely acceptable to steal and not have it bother him at all. “Ethel and I have an agreement. I purchase her eggs for $500 a piece.” Zemo added. It wasn’t like you could argue, that price was beyond extortion, but then Zemo had a fully functioning house and her silence. Zemo took you over there, Ethel smacked him upside the head, which Zemo responded in kind by smiling politely and handing her a wad of bills.

“I imagine that was a parting gift from Oeznik, he had many more dealings with her.”

You laughed Oeznik was still here, even if it was in the form of putting Zemo back in his place. As Rebecca’s bed time loomed and you dreaded being without her, you pilfered her rest and were rewarded with her cheeky smiles. Stealing a marshmallow from Zemo’s hot chocolate you put a finger to her lips and her eyes dazzled. Purposely looking away you watched Zemo do the same to your hot chocolate out of the corner of your eye, putting his finger to his lips as if he turned a key, to keep Rebecca quiet, which she was incapable of doing. She was snorting to herself, delving into such a fit of giggles, she could barely breathe, tears sprang to her eyes and yours. That was it, right there, your favourite sound in the world, and for a moment, for just one moment, everything felt worth it.

–

You were brutally woken up by a tennis ball to the head, so discombobulated you were shocked you caught the second one only through intuition, through years of Victor's training and conditioning. Holding the bright green ball in your hand, waiting for your mind to comprehend what the hell was going on, you jumped at the clearing of a throat. To see Zemo standing in your doorway, tennis ball in his hand resting at his side. Now your mind had a second to catch up, you recalled the memory of your skin being torn off, a nightmare, one Zemo woke you from, without violating his rule, he would never enter your room. Giving him a weak and embarrassed thank you, you pulled yourself out of bed, ready to wash the sticky sheen of sweat from yourself.

Zemo reminded you to carry our new phone with you and not leave it in the bedroom as Sarah had to call him when you didn’t answer. You didn’t trust that he wasn’t looking at the new phone as he had with the old one, you also hated it because it sent you an alert for every single threat across the globe, something Sarah told you Sam and Bucky’s phone did, to be kept in the loop, Victor talked you though turning those off and they still came. Sarah was only trying to contact you because she said you were making dinner together by video call, accidentally saying it was to fill your time and almost slipping up that you both used to do this together. After Rebecca was settled in for the night both you and Zemo headed to the kitchen, propping up your phone against the coffee machine as it brewed a very late coffee, which Zemo gave you free reign of.

Happy to see Sarah more at ease with you on the small screen, she was just as delighted to see that your eyes weren’t so sullen, that you didn’t look so haggard, that you didn’t have that look in your eyes of wanting to immediately run away. Lasagne was on the menu and you had to remind yourself to not gather all of the ingredients to wait for Sarah’s instruction, patiently waiting for Zemo to begin chopping garlic. You were astounded when he passed you the knife and the chopping board. Unsurprisingly he lingered dangerously close, watching your every move, as if his being this close to a knife and near you wasn’t bad enough, you felt suffocated by him, looking over your shoulder instead of the task at hand. He had encouraged you to tell him what was wrong at any given moment, to point out his failures was his exact wording so you muted yourself from Sarah.

“Rebecca’s asleep, shouldn’t you be in your room?” You reminded Zemo.

“This is a compromise Sunshine, I am only this close to ensure you do not drive that knife into your heart.” Into my heart? Yes you supposed there was always the chance but while on a video call with Sarah? Your eyes flickered to Sarah and Zemo shifted slightly away, not nearly enough, but he did move, chucking a handful more of garlic cloves onto the chopping board. “Garlic is measured by the heart.” Zemo chimed.

“You have one of those?” You jabbed while pointing the knife in his direction, he just smiled fondly at you as Sarah started to tap the screen, she was trying not to do so frantically, but the look in her eye gave her away. Another alert on your phone only caused you to narrow your eyes further.

“Those alerts are to keep you informed, you need to be aware of the goings on in the world.” Zemo stated. He wanted you to be aware now, instead of having the wool pulled over your eyes as before, to give you as much intel as he possibly could. I don’t want to know. “I will have Shuri remove them.” Zemo acquiesced. Taking Sarah off mute, you continued making the dish, whenever the knife was in your possession Zemo struggled not to breathe down your neck, otherwise he let you and Sarah chat, even stretching your leg up to show her, the shoes she got you, putting the dish in the oven you waved Sarah goodbye.

“Could we discuss improvements?” Zemo said uncertainty. What improvements? For lasagne? He added the garlic? No, he meant improvements for you, he still expected you to get better.

“I’m not going to improve.” You starting taking it back as soon as you saw the rise of his eyebrows. “I mean, of course I can, just tell me what to do.”

“The improvements are for me Sunshine. Your well being is paramount to me.” Zemo said solemnly at your reaction, the instantaneous fear response that you couldn't quite shake. “Your efforts do not go unnoticed.” Zemo said, trying to steer to conversation away from anything that might send you into a spiral. “In a few days I will need to fetch supplies, is there anything you need?”

“Who is staying with us?” You asked, ready to prepare yourself for a new guest, a new person who would be witness to your screams in the middle of the night. You couldn’t be left alone, you were a liability, a risk to everyone, including Rebecca.

Zemo’s eyebrows pinched. “I am quite talented at reading people, I know that if anything were to happen you would guard Rebecca with your life. Do not let your insecurities cloud your ability to care for her. My only concern is that you will be alone with the thoughts that plague you, I will retrieve the necessities during the day.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You voiced and Zemo opened his mouth to argue, closing it shut rapidly seeing that you weren't ready, you weren't sure if you ever would be.

“The secondary fridge is well stocked,” Before you could ask where that was, Zemo answered, “Behind the blanket storage.” Zemo smiled ruefully. A fridge? Not a torture chamber? That did sound like something Zemo would do, you saw the insane lengths he went to in Louisiana, that he built a house underneath the actual house, you could all probably live down there for a few months, probably live here for a few years, given the chance, that was more than like Zemo’s ideal, in one place that couldn't be penetrated, he would call it safe, even if it was a prison.

“Sorry, it must feel like you are taking care of two children.” You said sadly. Zemo didn’t respond to that, not yet anyway. He slid a plastic card over to you, untraceable you presumed. “I don’t want your money.”

“The funds in this account did not come from me, they came from a woman called Pepper Potts.”

You choked on thin air, Pepper Potts, wife of Tony Stark Pepper Potts? Composing yourself, you had to maintain an air of ignorance. You were not supposed to know who either of those people were. Zemo refrained from rubbing your back, to get you through the small trembling coughs that were still spluttering from you.

“Financial freedom, or at the very least an attempt of it, I tried to be diligent in..” Zemo trailed off. “Pepper and I had a video conference, she is aware of your situation. She watched her husband torment himself, believing he was the only one capable of protecting the world. She understands that desire to shield, to conserve.. Sunshine just take it.” Zemo sighed. The desire to shield, like Tony had with the world, for his daughter Morgan, for his wife Pepper. The same burning need Zemo felt to protect you and Rebecca. Zemo reminded Pepper of Tony, that must have been a difficult conversation. You were shocked Pepper even agreed to talk to Zemo. You asked for her number to thank her, which you did by text. You doubted you would ever get a response, Pepper exiled herself and lived a life of seclusion, just as you were doing. Not that you ever needed to use the money, you knew Zemo well enough to know he would make sure you didn't need to.

“Two children?” Zemo wondered aloud, looking into the darkness outside. “One is astounding, the very embodiment of how I know that somewhere in my depraved life, I did one thing right. See’s the good in everyone, sometimes I believe she is too pure for this world.” Zemo said sadly, his thumb stroking the back of his golden wedding band. “The very reason I wish the world would change its heart, so she doesn’t have to change for it.” Zemo said wistfully, it was the perfect way to describe Rebecca. Zemo looked directly at you. “And the other one is sleeping upstairs.”

“I’m not like that.” Not anymore.You said blinking back the burn from the tears forming in your eyes, heartbroken that Zemo had any faith left in you at all.

“I have a gut feeling you were born that way.”

Next Part: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31451681/chapters/119611552

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #dark!zemo #dark zemo #dark #dr doom #bucky

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pathologicalreid · 2 months

Text

for the fear of falling apart | part three

when it seems like a return to normalcy is impossible, you decide that something has to give, but will it bend or will it break?

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: fear of drowning, therapy, mommy and daddy issues, sigmund freud, nightmares and ptsd, sleep deprivation, takes place during 15x4 "saturday" (max does not exist in this au), stalkers, yelling, police, domestic disturbance, broken dishes, severe self image issues, crying, implies that jj is sometimes not the greatest friend, marriage and marriage counseling, mentions the death of grace lynch, the chameleon arc, reader and spencer are both broken people sry. things get resolved (or do they?) word count: 5.13k a/n: i'm trying to come to terms with the fact that people will not like how this part goes, but i do think it's important to remember that this is not where it ends. it's probably easy to guess what episode I'm rewriting next. lol. let me know your thoughts and feelings because i am dying to know.

“Are you glad to be back at work?” Your therapist asked you, writing down your personal information on the form on her clipboard before she met your stare.

Chewing impatiently on the inside of your lip, you glanced over to the clock that was hung above the door, dooming you to another forty-five minutes with Dr. Harmon. “Yes, I love desk duty,” you told her, flashing a fake smile in her direction.

The older woman looked at you doubtfully, and you silently begged for her to sign your return to duty forms. “I thought we spoke about using sarcasm as a coping mechanism,” she responded in a way that made you feel chastised.

You raised your eyebrows at her, gray hair neatly combed into a tight bun, you had spent more time with your therapist for the past two months than you had any of your family – the rest of your time was spent retraining your body, usually within the limitations of your doctor’s orders. “And I thought we talked about there being worse coping mechanisms that I could be using,” you countered, leaning back in her chair.

She shrugged helplessly, “Well, I’m not sure about signing your release forms. You could be a liability in the field.”

Eyes widening, you tilted your head to the side, “No, no, no, I’ve grown a new appreciation for the desk workers in the BAU. I even stopped laughing when people refer to Agent Anderson as Grunt Anderson,” you informed her, nodding as if that would help convince her of your honesty.

Checking off a box on your form, she set the clipboard on her side table, just out of your view. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Harmon leaned forward and folded her hands over her knee, “Have you spoken to your sister since the last time I saw you?”

You leaned your head back, staring at the tiles of the ceiling as any hope of returning to the field left your body.

One of your very first dates with Spencer had been at the Academy’s shooting range, you had a lucky spot there, it was where you had aced your qualification as a cadet, and it was pure luck that it had been available when you arrived.

As your paper target was brought forward, you slipped off your headphones and set your weapon down, studying the results as you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

“Hey,” Spencer said from behind you, casually leaning against the wall behind you.

You jumped slightly as the sound of his voice took you away from your anxiety, “Hey,” you echoed, holstering your weapon as you sent your target back for someone to change it out.

“I thought you were going to come to the BAU after therapy,” he explained, arms crossed in front of his chest in his charcoal suit, camouflaging himself with the steely gray of the shooting range.

Pursing your lips, you made sure you had your phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag, “I wanted to get some practice in before my requalification test.”

He looked surprised for a moment, “Did your therapist sign your return to duty?”

“No,” you muttered, knowing that you wouldn’t be eligible to take your firearms requalification until after you had been cleared by a psychiatrist.

Any surprise quickly left his face, “What did she say, then?”

You rolled your eyes, “She told me that it’s possible that my strained relationship with my parents is negatively affecting my performance in my sessions. Then she threw a Freud biography at my head.”

“Did you talk to her about the nightmares?” He asked, following you as you checked out of the shooting range, waving to a gaggle of cadets as they noticed the BAU agents in their general vicinity.

Faltering as you opened the door, you flung the glass door open and trudged out of it, “I have it under control,” you lied through your teeth, continuing your way to the elevator.

The tapping of Spencer’s shoes signified that he was following you, holding his hand over the sensor while you stepped in and using his knuckle to press the parking garage button, “You were up all night last night,” he retorted, “She could help you develop a coping mechanism that works for you so that you can get some rest, angel.”

You were getting tired of those words, “Well, maybe we’ll reach a breakthrough next week. You never know.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being so unamenable,” he accused.

Shaking your head as you stepped out of the elevator, you hoisted your bag back over your shoulder, “Is unamenable genius-speak for pain in the ass?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” he retorted, swiping the keys out of your hands before unlocking the car and getting in the driver’s seat. You had been cleared to drive weeks ago, but Spencer still insisted on driving you.

You groaned, “My recent brush with death has made it difficult for me to let bygones be bygones.”

Pulling out of the parking spot, he carefully placed both of his hands on the steering wheel, “And here I thought we were actually going to move on with our lives.”

“No one holds a grudge like a youngest child,” you informed him, leaning your head against the window and wishing you had driven separately.

Being at home wasn’t much better than being at Quantico. You quickly changed and settled yourself on the couch while Spencer sat across from you, legs crossed in the wingback chair as he finished filling in a crossword book that you had started that morning.

You watched the clock tick, the diffused orange light of the sunset beamed through the curtains, and you felt yourself settle. Stiff joints and aching muscles unwound on the supple leather of the couch, and as you let your eyes fall shut, you felt the breeze of someone walking by before Spencer stopped in front of you.

Gently, he draped a knit blanket over you, tucking you in before crouching and dropping a gentle kiss to your temple.

Y/N is down, she’s been hit. We need an ambulance now.

I know, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.

It’s okay. I’ve got you.

“Honey, wake up.”

You startled awake on the couch, wadding up the blanket in your fists as your eyes adjusted to the dim environment of the apartment. The sun had set, dipping below the skyline as you stared ahead.

Concerned brown eyes bore into you as you caught your breath, Spencer reached over and flicked on the table lamp next to you, “You’re alright,” he cooed, gently enough to make you want to cry. “It was just a bad dream,” he told you, cupping your cheek and studying your expression.

Nodding absently, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, the familiar knit blanket falling in a puddle around your waist. “I was in the parking garage again,” you preemptively answered his next question. You were usually in the parking garage, sometimes you were on the beach, and once you had been fully underwater.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

You shook your head and ignored the defeated look on Spencer’s face, instead burying your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths.

He waited for a moment before speaking again, reaching out and adjusting the bunched-up fabric of your t-shirt, “Are you hungry? I made soup.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, afraid it would start growling at the mention of food.

As you watched Spencer get up and walk over to the kitchen, you let yourself feel like everything was alright for the slightest moment. You wanted your apartment to be your safe space where there were no serial killers or sisters or hospitals, but there was a classified file on the kitchen table, photos of you and your sister littered the walls, and there was an entire drawer in the home office dedicated to your hospital stay.

Melding into the couch cushions, you ignored the stiffness in your side, the scars that marred your skin were healed over, but the memory would stick with you for a lifetime. It felt like a phantom pain, irritating your skin whenever you thought too much about it, or whenever your therapist asked you about Grace Lynch.

It didn’t bring you a lot of comfort to know that she was dead, murdered by her own father after conning her ex-girlfriend into giving her money. Everett Lynch was the threat now, and you were stuck on the bench.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your cheek on your knee as Spencer ladled soup into a bowl and presented it to you, complete with a few ice cubes to cool it down. He waltzed back into the kitchen to clean up when his phone rang.

You ignored his conversation while you stirred the ice cubes around in your bowl, the soft clinking of them mesmerizing your tired brain. You ate while he spoke on the phone, mentioning something about a case. Pushing any thoughts of serial killers away, you just ate your soup.

Sipping at the broth, you grew curious about what was going on over the phone, but you tried to mind your business, scooping at the last noodles in the bowl before setting it down on the coffee table.

“Who was that?” You asked, eyes following Spencer as he walked back over to the living room, slipping his phone in his pocket as he sat next to you on the couch.

He paused for a moment, and you immediately regretted asking, “Uh, it was JJ.”

You supposed it had to mean something that he elected to tell you the truth instead of lying to you, but you were no longer feeling optimistic, “Ah.”

“Don’t start,” he said immediately.

You turned to him, raising your eyebrows curiously and pushing yourself into the corner of the couch – away from him, “Start what, Spencer?”

Spencer put his hands up, “Picking a fight with me over JJ’s feelings. JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope are working on a stalker case, it’s nothing that we need to worry about.”

“I’m not going to pick a fight with you, I already told you that I forgive you,” you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He groaned in frustration, “You can say it all you want, but you haven’t. You haven’t forgiven me.”

As he usually was, Spencer was right, you hadn’t forgiven him for lying to you about what had happened between him and JJ. You wanted to. You wanted to find it in yourself to be the bigger person and just tell him it was fine. All you wanted was to move on, but you were crashing into roadblock after roadblock. “Are you going to work that case?”

“No, it’s a classic stalking case, they’ll make it without me,” he said, turning on the couch to face you.

You swallowed thickly, “You can go if you’d rather be there,” you reassured him, wondering if he’d be happier at work than at home with you. Someone needed to make a decision, someone needed to decide whether or not the two of you were going to keep going or if you were going to call it off. You didn’t want it to be you, you were afraid of which option you might choose.

Spencer frowned, “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m not,” you answered.

“Yes, yes you are,” he challenged, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

Shaking your head, you threw your hands up in surrender, “You don’t have to go. You can stay here. You live here. Who the fuck am I to tell you to leave?”

“And now you’re escalating the situation,” he observed, straightening up and watching you carefully.

You didn’t consider yourself an angry person. The two of you didn’t fight often, but as you considered your options, you wondered if it could help. Maybe you could replicate the feeling of a good cry. Maybe all you need is a good fight. Just talk it out – loudly. “I’m not escalating anything. I’m not starting anything. In case you haven’t noticed, this has been going on for months.”

He had noticed, he could probably give you an exact date and time to point out when everything fell apart. Was it inside the pawn shop? Was it in the courtyard outside of Rossi’s wedding? “I thought we had made some real progress at the hospital,” he challenged.

Getting up from the couch, you took a deep breath and tossed the blanket over the back, “You cannot seriously think that. You’re too smart to believe that, Spencer. The idea that we fixed everything while I was hopped up on Xanax and painkillers. It’s… it’s…” you stumbled over your words for a moment. It’s crazy. You wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t do that to him. Spencer had spent his whole life having that word thrown at his mother, and he spent adulthood fearing he’d have a schizophrenic break. “It’s outlandish,” you finally finished.

Spencer looked up at you from the couch, “Is it outlandish to think that the history we have together would help mend our relationship?”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know, Spencer, let’s take a look at your history with my sister,” you snapped.

“Oh, come on,” he protested.

“No,” you commanded, “Sit down and shut up. I’ve spent months waiting for you to get it, but apparently, I need to spell it out for you.”

To your surprise, he listened, watching you in silence as you took a deep breath, picked up your soup bowl, and brought it into the kitchen. Your heartbeat pounded like thunder in your ears.

Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “I want you to empathize with me.” You calculated every word you said, “We’ve known each other for nine years. We’ve been together for seven, and I- I had the rug pulled out from under me. God, you went on a date with my sister. You took her to a football game as a hater of organized sports. My beautiful, prom queen, soccer star, gem of the family older sister.”

“It wasn’t a date, Penelope went with us,” Spencer added patiently.

You peered down at him, “When you asked her to go with you, did you do it with the intention that you would be taking her on a date?”

His shoulders slackened, “Yeah,” he answered softly.

“And you know that she loves you. If you went to her right now and told her you wanted to be with her, that there’s a chance she’d consider it. She’d at least have to think about it,” you told him, confidence dissipating as your hands started to tremble and you silently begged yourself not to cry.

Spencer watched you suspiciously, “What gave you the impression that I want to be with her instead of you?”

You faltered, just for a moment, “Why wouldn’t you want to be with her?” You asked exasperatedly, letting your arms fall limply at your sides.

Pinching his eyebrows together, your boyfriend looked at you like you had grown a third eye, “She’s married? Her kids are my godchildren?”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you cursed yourself as tears stung your eyes, “Are those seriously the only reasons you can think of?” With all the brain power you knew he had, you couldn’t help but be disappointed.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, “Putting aside the fact that I’d be destroying a marriage, not because it doesn’t matter, but because being with your sister isn’t even something I’d consider. This might not have occurred to you, but I have absolutely no interest in being with someone other than you!”

You huffed, “Please, she’s beautiful and athletic and older and you’ve known her for fifteen years!” You shouted over your shoulder, making your way back to the kitchen. There wasn’t anything you needed from in there, you just needed to keep moving.

“But she’s not you!” He yelled from the couch, finally getting up and following you to the kitchen.

Spinning around on your heel, you threw your arms in the air, “God, I know!” You swung your arms down, accidentally sending the bowl you had set on the counter down to the floor, breaking on impact. “Shit,” you muttered, immediately dropping to a crouch and starting to pick up the ceramic shards.

“Hey, wait, let me get it,” Spencer insisted, grabbing a kitchen towel from the drawer before laying it on the floor. He carefully picked up the larger shards, waving your hands away.

You clenched your hands and glared at him with bleary eyes, “Why? Why am I not allowed to clean up the mess that I made?”

Spencer sighed, “You’re crying. I don’t want you to get hurt because you can’t see well,” he told you, prompting you to sit back on the tile and watch him continue to pick up.

You crisscrossed your legs and watched him, “I’m sorry for yelling,” you whispered, so quietly that you weren’t even sure he had heard you.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Spencer gathered up the kitchen towel and set it on the counter, setting his hands on the counter and taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he echoed your sentiments. He moved to the hall closet to get out the broom, interrupted by a knock on the door.

Confused, you poked your head over the counter and watched as Spencer opened the front door.

“Good evening, officer,” he greeted, casting a sidelong glance over at you.

Fuck.

You scrambled to your feet, careful not to step on any pieces of the bowl that remained on the floor and wiping beneath your eyes as you made your way to the door, peeking around the corner to find two DC Metro officers. “Agent Jareau?” One of the officers said curiously.

“Hi,” you waved timidly, looking between the two of them with your tail between your legs.

He looked surprised at the revelation of who lived here, recognizing you from a case you had consulted on months ago. “We were called here on a report of a domestic disturbance, your neighbor in said she heard ‘a lot of yelling before there was a crash and then everything went quiet’.”

The summation of events did nothing to slow your racing heart, “We had uh… we were having a disagreement, and I knocked over a bowl. It was an accident,” you reassured the officer, reaching out and taking Spencer’s hand as a sign of good faith.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You nodded in confirmation, “I’m really sorry about any inconvenience, but I promise there’s nothing to worry about.”

The DC Metro officers studied Spencer suspiciously, and you protectively moved in front of him. They were trained to see the worst-case scenario, but there was nothing happening here, “Well then, just uh… try to keep it down, I suppose.”

The two of you waved as they walked away, once the door was closed, you turned to face Spencer, “Are you alright?”

He looked a little pale, “I’m alright,” he nodded, gathering himself before going back to the hall closet. “That was weird,” he added.

Spencer’s interaction with police officers was limited to work with the bureau and his time in prison. He never had to explain an underage drunk person in the car or run when a party got too rowdy, but he wasn’t concerned with the confrontation, he was concerned that, for a moment, before you got there, those officers saw Spencer as a violent person. You stayed put, watching him sweep up the last of the bowl and take care of the sharp pieces with a keen eye.

“I’d never hurt you,” Spencer said softly, unnecessarily explaining to you.

You nodded, “I know. You’re not like that, baby. You’re not a violent person.” In fact, you had only seen Spencer aggressively violent one time in your life, and that was when his mother’s life was on the line. Stepping over to him, you lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the kitchen counter, meeting his eyes.

“She is not you,” he murmured, reaching out and taking both of your hands in his.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, “I am well aware,” you offered.

He took a deep breath, “JJ would never ask me to recite Henry James to her or offer to go to the planetarium with me even after we spent all day on a case or sit through one of my lectures just to hear me talk about something I’m passionate about,” he began. "I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation about something I’m passionate about with your sister. Not one where she didn’t interrupt me or pawn me off on somebody else,” he told you, disconnecting one of your hands to wipe new tears from your cheeks.

“I- I’m not…” you breathed, overwhelmed as he sang your praises.

“I know you compare yourself to her,” he cut you off, “it’s normal for you to compare yourself to your older sister. I just didn’t know how lowly you thought of yourself until all of this was dug up.”

Frowning, you cocked your head to the side, “I do not compare myself to her,” you remarked.

He hummed in response, “It wasn’t up for debate. I’m not interested in your sister. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone except for you. I am sorry that I never told you about the football game, but by the time you joined the team, six years had passed, and I didn’t think it was pertinent to tell you that your sister had rejected me. That is entirely on me, and I can’t change it. I can, however, spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

Your breathing hitched, and the ghost of a potential proposal once again floated through the air, it made your heart ache. “One of these days you’re going to have to actually ask me to marry you,” you whispered, not sure how much longer you’d be able to sit and wait while he neglected to act upon his words.

“What do you want right now?” Spencer asked, studying your facial expression.

You have spent three months being mad at him, and you had to believe it all came down to tonight. Neither of you could keep going with things the way they were. “I’m not sure,” you answered.

Patiently, Spencer inquired, “Do you want to break up?”

If you told him you hadn’t thought about it, you’d be lying. It broke your heart to think about ending things with him, to think that six years together didn’t mean something to the both of you. Spencer had never given any inclination that he was interested in anyone else, so maybe he should’ve told you about the football game, but you shouldn't have let your insecurities block any attempt at reconciliation. “No,” you responded truthfully.

He had tried, too. The one-sided conversations he had with floral bouquets, taking time off of work to help you while you recovered, and he had even limited his contact with your sister. “Do you want to go to couple’s therapy?”

You had heard through the grapevine that your sister was trying marriage counseling with Will, something about working on their communication skills. With that in mind, you nodded, “We can try it out.”

“Do you know what you want?” He asked, settling a hand on your thigh.

Through the sheer curtains, you looked outside, “I want to go,” you informed him, hopping off of the kitchen counter and to your shared bedroom, pulling on a pair of socks.

Confused, Spencer followed you around the apartment, “Wait. Where are we going?”

“I’m going,” you said simply.

He looked surprised at this, “It’s the middle of the night in the twenty-second largest city in the country, you’re not going out alone.”

You paused for a moment at his concern, watching the defeated look on his face morph into one of relief when you responded, “Then put your shoes on,” you encouraged.

As you waited by the door, mindful to not walk through the apartment with your shoes on, he stopped in your bedroom for a moment before coming back out and slipping his sneakers on. “Where are we going?”

Grabbing your keys off of the hook, you opened the door and held it for Spencer as he followed your lead. “You know at the start of Moby Dick when Ishmael says when he finds himself growing grim about the mouth and wanting to knock people’s hats off, he takes to the sea?”

He nods, taking the keys from your hand and locking the door behind him, glancing briefly at your neighbor’s door before handing your keys back to you, “I’m familiar,” he confirmed.

“Well, I’m feeling rather grim about the mouth,” you told him assuredly, slipping your keys into your pockets and slowly making your way down the hold staircase of your apartment building, listening for Spencer’s footsteps right behind you.

Even with your back turned, you knew his expression would be one of confusion, “So, you want to take to the sea?”

You quickly shook your head, the very last place you wanted to be was near a body of water in the middle of the night, “Not particularly, but maybe the park and some fresh air would do me some good.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he confirmed, stepping around you to hold the front door open so that you could walk outside, the cool night air stinging your face as you did.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at the night sky, the stars hidden through the city’s light pollution.

Upon reaching the park, which was just a small green space down the street from your apartment, Spencer led you to a cement bench, the two of you sitting down and sitting in silence. You welcomed the cold air filling your lungs, watching the fountain from a distance and admiring the way the headlights of a few passing cars reflected off of the water.

He kept a hand on your back, gently moving his hand up and down your spine as the two of you reveled in the startling nighttime peace. “I haven’t been fair to you,” you murmured nervously, looking over at him.

“None of this has been fair to anyone,” he reminded you.

You sighed, “JJ confessed her feelings, not the other way around, and I- I shouldn’t have held that against you for so long.” The admission came to you easily, holding your breath as you waited for him to agree.

Spencer’s silence worried you, but then he finally responded, “I probably would have done the same thing, but I don’t think it’s right for me to speculate how I would or wouldn’t have acted in your shoes.”

“I just… she’s always been perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect agent, and I’m… I’m just me,” you said helplessly, staring ahead at the fountain.

He took a deep breath, “You’re perfect to me.”

“Stop,” you chastised halfheartedly.

Chuckling, he placed his hand over yours, “I mean it. Sometimes perfection is about the final concoction and not about getting all of the steps right. You don’t need the perfect journey, and, to me, nothing proves that more than you.”

You hummed, “You’re sweet.”

“For what it’s worth, I think, given the opportunity, you could be a perfect wife,” he said, nudging your leg with his knee, getting your head to snap to the side.

Jumping up from the bench, you smacked your hand over your mouth at the small black box that he had set on the stone surface. “What are you… what?” You asked breathlessly, looking behind you in the way people usually did when they were surprised, waiting to see if you were being pranked.

“It doesn’t have to be an engagement ring,” he reached down and snapped the box open, showing you the glimmering ring inside. “It can just be a promise because I am promising you right now, this is it for me. You are the only person I can see myself with, and I’m ready to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Gaping at him, you looked between him and the ring before closing your mouth, “That sounds an awful lot like an engagement ring,” you told him, out of breath.

He nodded, “That’s because I want it to be.”

“Okay,” you answered.

“What?”

You giggled, he evidently hadn’t expected that answer, “Yes, Spencer.”

He stood up, tackling you in an embrace, “Thank goodness.” He said, relaxing into you as you returned his hug.

Over the past few months, you had been almost afraid of him asking you, worried that it would feel like an excuse. A band-aid over a bullet hole. But as you held each other tightly, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of right. This was where you were always meant to be. “Will you put it on me?”

He nodded slowly, sniffling as he pulled away from you, the warmth of his body leaving you as he nimbly took your left hand, slipping the ring on your fourth finger. The metal felt foreign on your skin, but you welcomed it nonetheless. “That has been sitting in my sock drawer for a year,” he admitted, placing both of his hands on your waist and meeting your eyes.

You beamed up at him, at both the revelation that he bought you a ring well before any of the trials and tribulations of the last few months and that he hid the ring in the one place you never touched – the seemingly bottomless abyss of unmated socks that Spencer called his sock drawer. “Thank you,” you breathed.

Spencer leaned his head down, hovering his lips just above your own, “For what, love?”

Blinking small tears out of your eyes, you answered, “For not giving up on us.”

He smiled, “Never,” he whispered before dropping his lips to yours, the intimacy of something as small as a kiss enough to bring butterflies to your stomach. “Do you want to go home? Or are you still feeling grim about the mouth?”

“Let’s go home, Spence,” you told him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before the two of you began the trek home, hand in hand.

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lqveharrington · 8 months

Text

Fake-Love | C.S.

summary: a boy was bothering you, so you and Coriolanus take it into your own hands.

pairing: university!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: a very unstable, toxic relationship between the two, (arranged marriage), making out, comments toward the reader’s body, implied sex (it isn’t written), mentions of murder

a/n: soooo, as i write for the Silver Roses & Fallen Snow series, i decided to write a billion one-shot for our favorite blond to keep the era for him alive so i can finish my series 🫡. also, the uniforms are based of the gilmore girls’ one, since they are in university now and not academy.

The arranged marriage between the Snows and the Edevanes were always doomed to happen. You were born the same year as Coriolanus, and your families were already close with each other.

It was just, you and Coriolanus despised one another.

The feeling was 100% mutual. The reasoning for such a feud was due to the never ending fight for the brightest student in the Capitol. During your years in Academy, it was a tie in every class. Of course, your hatred for one another was more tame.

It only really changed when Coriolanus came back from serving the Districts as a peacekeeper. There was something about his demeanor that was much different, plus the way he was built could have made you weak in the knees.

He joined University a little after it had started for your class, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the best. You were currently the top of your class in University, but that changed when he joined under Dr. Gaul. His jabs to your reputation were much stronger than in Academy. He would make comments about you when walking down the hall behind you, making sure you understood that he would do whatever it took to be back on top.

So, when your parents dropped the bomb on you that you were to be engaged to Coriolanus as soon as possible, your blood boiled at the male. You could not believe he stooped that low to get back at you.

And about a few weeks after the initial announcement, you and Coriolanus officially got engaged, becoming the sudden talk of the Capitol.

“How did you keep your dating life such a huge secret?” A reporter stuck their microphone up to your face as you and Coriolanus exited a car together.

“Well, we were just so love struck with one another that we didn’t want others to know.” Coriolanus smiled, answering the question for you.

His arm was looped around yours as you were guided into the University, answering all the questions being asked of you both. The moment you stepped inside the school grounds you let go of the male, dusting off your uniform’s plaid skirt.

“What time do your classes end?” He muttered toward you, adjusting his own uniform.

“I have study hall all day, I’ll be done whenever you are.” You state as you head for the library, ignoring the icy stare your fiancé was giving you.

Since Coriolanus studied under Dr. Gaul, you knew you would have to stay a lot longer in the University’s library than usual, but you did not necessarily care. You had textbook assignments due, and it was an opportunity to get everything done.

That was the goal until a first year at the University started bothering you.

“I told you, I’m busy.” You stand from your seat, furrowing your brows at the young male. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a book for my psychology lessons.”

“Aw, don’t be lame.” He inched toward you, grabbing your wrist. “Why don’t we have our own fun instead? I’m sure you’re just as beautiful underneath your skirt.”

Your eyes harden at his words and mess with your engagement ring, “You‘ll have to excuse me, I have to be somewhere.”

Swiftly, you weave through the different shelves full of books. You swore under your breath when you hear the footsteps of the male behind you, sharply turning into a more secluded space. To your surprise, you found Coriolanus pulling books from the Hunger Games previous years.

“What are you doing in here?” You question, quickly moving around to his left. “I thought Dr. Gaul needed you today?”

“She wanted me to understand the history of the previous games to help with the programming and DNA of new animals.” He mumbled, looking through a thick book from the first Hunger Games. “What are you doing?”

“This guy was hitting on me.” You shrug, meeting Coriolanus’ darkened eyes. “What?”

“What guy?” He placed the books down on a cart, grabbing your chin.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know his name, but he’s a first year here. Why do you care so much?”

“Because, gorgeous, you’re my fiancée. Any guy who even looks your way that isn’t me is dead.” He backed you into the shelf, hand still tight on your chin. “Did he saying anything or touch you?”

“Yes.” You whisper, gaze dropping to his lips before back up to his darkened blue eyes. “He grabbed my wrist and said that ‘I’m probably just as beautiful underneath my skirt’.”

Coriolanus took his other hand and firmly placed it on your hip, eyes wandering your face. “I’ll kill him.”

You turn your head to the side as you heard footsteps nearing before Coriolanus slammed his lips onto yours, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss without a care in the world.

“Mm, Coryo—“ You part, feeling your skirt hike up. “Are you insane?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles, shutting you up with a harder kiss, slipping his tongue through your parted mouth.

Coriolanus changes his hold on you, both hands now on your waist. You shift your hips, earning a quiet groan from the male. He retaliates by tracing a hand up to your throat, slightly squeezing it which earned a moan coming from you.

“Oh, so you’re just a whore.” The male scoffed from the front of the aisle, looking at the couple.

“Kill him?” You ask between kisses, tugging at his tie. Truly, you didn’t know he would take that request to heart as the male soon was deemed missing a day later. But for now, you were caught up in the heat.

Coriolanus grins, leaving one last kiss to your swollen lips. “He talks to my soon to be wife like that, it’ll be worse than a quick kill.”

read more about coriolanus snow here !!

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generalsdiary · 9 months

Text

a stupid bet

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

part two here

warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)

word count: 10k~

a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold

description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)

It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.

Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?

It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."

He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"

Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.

He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.

"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself

Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.

"You can't see it-" You mention.

He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."

"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.

He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”

In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.

His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.

Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.

He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.

You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet. As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.

The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.

After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.

He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”

"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.

He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”

"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.

He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”

"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.

“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”

"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.

A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.

“...I think we should still talk privately.”

You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."

He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.

He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.

"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.

He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”

"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"

You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”

You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"

That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.

You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"

Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”

"Why?"

You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”

You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.

That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.

You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"

He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”

"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"

A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”

He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"

You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-

He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.

He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.

“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”

„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“

He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."

"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.

He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."

"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.

Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.

He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”

You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."

He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.

„...Afraid?”

„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“

He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.

"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.

He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.

You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.

It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.

He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.

"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"

He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.

"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.

He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”

You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“

He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”

"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.

His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”

„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.

He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.

“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”

„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“

He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”

„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.

He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”

He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.

„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“

He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”

You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“

He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”

„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.

“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”

„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.

And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.

After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.

His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.

When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.

He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.

Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate

You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.

And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.

It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...

You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.

Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.

„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.

His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.”

„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“

He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”

„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“

“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.

„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.

“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”

„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.

His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”

„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.

He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”

You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“

He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.

„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.

“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”

„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“

He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”

„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.

Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...

You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.

Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.

You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.

Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.

Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.

In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.

Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.

It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.

It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.

People pass by, and you don't say anything.

Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.

You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.

There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.

He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.

„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse

He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.

When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“

Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.

You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.

He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"

„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.

He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well. "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"

„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.

He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"

You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“

His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.

You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.

He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.

„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.

He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"

„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.

That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.

„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“

He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"

„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“

A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."

„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“

He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."

His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.

You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“

He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"

„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.

Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."

„You enjoyed them too.“ You softly say.

His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."

You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.

He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...

He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."

„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.

His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“

„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“

"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."

You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“

The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."

You meet his eyes „What is it?“

He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."

„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.

He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."

„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“

His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."

You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.

The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.

It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.

All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."

„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“

"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."

You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.

He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."

You look up at him „Veritas...“

He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"

You just sigh softly.

He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.

„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."

„Too long yes...“

He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“

„Oh trust, they have noticed“

He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."

„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“

He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."

You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“

His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."

„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.

He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."

You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.

He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.

„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...

„Veritas-„ you speak his name.

Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...

You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.

The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.

Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.

He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.

You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.

The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.

He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."

„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.

He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"

You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“

He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."

You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„

He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."

„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.

Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.

You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."

You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.

He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."

„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.

"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"

„Veritas“ you warn sternly.

He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"

„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“ Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.

That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."

„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.

He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.

You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.

He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.

"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“

You say simply. „5“

His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"

You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.

„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.

He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."

You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“

"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.

„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.

He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.

#hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #dr ratio #doctor ratio #veritas ratio #hoyoverse #fluff #smut #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio smut #dr ratio fanfic #dr ratio oneshot #dr ratio writing #kavetham' son #haikaveh' son #veritas ratio oneshot #dr ratio x reader

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xivou · 1 month

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木星／ dr ratio x fem. reader < 🧷' AUG (2024) > # potential angst . not proofread . perhaps, ooc ratio ( a scholar, and his assistant ) ✷ you watch him sacrifice himself, for his thirst of knowledge.

( jupiter—my heart who was meant to be a star but failed. )

Doctor Veritas Ratio’s life was a cup that brimmed with intellect, moulded with turmoil and self-deception.

( for knowledge is a cursed orbit of orderly chaos, where its striders are all disturbed. )

And you’ve witnessed it all unfold—how the woman of destiny wove her threats into an embodiment of candidness, blessed him with unparalleled aptitude, and paved a contentious, starlit orbit to cure the ignorant.

( and that same orbit, is the orbit Nous never looks upon. he persists in treading upon it. )

And you watch, as asteroids chart their courses, the planets worship the sun, and the universe expands itself, whispering proses of it's confines— how Doctor Veritas Ratio came into being.

How each flick of his chalk, and each utterance that fell off his lips seeped confusion into his students. how applause echoes in the chamber, and he steps forward pridefully to acquire yet another doctoral degree. how his name became pronounced on the lips of all— of those who loathed him and those who acknowledged his achievements, till he made his name distinguishable among the tattered volumes of history.

‘The Genius Society is hosting a collaboration with the Intelligentsia Guild. they voted for you as a representative.’

your fingers cradle through his violet lock, whilst he lies on your lap, fixated on reading a passage from a philosophy book.

‘as long as it does not clash with my schedule.’

you nod, heavily weighting and savouring this moment; this is one of those mere hours, where he is allowed to be eclipsed from the eyes of the world and slip into your warmth. a smile tugs at your lips.

‘You know I love you, right?’ you utter those words, and they are almost like a cry, leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead.

in people's eyes, Ratio is a star that emits a rich luminescence.

( and it saddens you how stars are doomed to dim as a lifetime frays upon it. )

but no sooner will they concede; Ratio is a no star, bound to never seize ‘deity’, and bound to remain among mundane, mediocre planets, those who live in supreme idiocy.

( “Perhaps, he realized he would never be accepted into the Genius Society...” you’ve heard that say sometime before. )

and yet you observe as he distributes bits of his radiant soul to the cosmos, a blessing coiled with a masquerade of self-assurance, and you observe as those detached geniuses confine their knowledge to themselves.

( and yet no one gets to detect that white alabaster sculpture crack; you wonder if it is ever bound to. )

Ratio chuckles, and you think it echoes with self-deprecation. His fingertips intertwine with yours, and you feel his soul through these edges—it's desperate and coiled in vacant arrogance.

‘i told you, there is no use to dawdling on this matter...’ he shuts his book, and turns towards you, pulling you closer.

his head rests at the crook of your neck, and he inhales your aroma.

‘If this day I have not gained the recognition of Nous,’ he kisses your neck. ‘it stands to reason that I never will at any point in the future.’

‘you're still my genius, you know?’ your fingertips draw little stars on his back. ‘my star...’

Akin to a moonlit sonata, a final waltz of a melancholic medley. You bestowed the radiance of your soul to myriad starless nights, where dusk settled and he would remain awake to preserve this research. You eclipsed him and taught him respite. You acknowledged he was a star, and you chose to orbit around him—a moon crafted of Saturn's rings.

──© xivou . please refrain from reposting . plagiarizing . copying . translating . without prior consent.

#writing ✶%#dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dr ratio x you #hsr dr ratio

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ranchiballz · 1 year

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Operation Wingman

Pairing: Darry Curtis x F!reader

Word count: 1271

Description: Y/N is a new employee at Jim’s burger joint in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Ponyboy and Sodapop have been on a mission of helping Darry find a gal.

Authors note: heyyy. so, i’ve been gone. for like a whole year. my bad g. but anyways here’s part two when i publish it -

You push through the swinging door into the kitchen of the small but homely neighborhood diner, Jim's Burger Joint. The smell of fresh beef and fries hits your nose. You almost wince at how pungent it is, but then remember the smell of your other diner job at the Dingo. That place was the most rundown diner filled with robbers and pedos left and right. You couldn't go a day in that joint without something being stolen from you, whether it was your wallet or your innocence. You would have stayed if it wasn't for the never ending impending doom and soulless labor that they put you through. A dinging sound and the sound of shuffling boots pulls you out of your thoughts.You roll your way out of the kitchen and to the front counter.

“Come on Pony! Just one fresh soda and then we can go, I'll even get you a milkshake.” Says a chipper young boy with a wink, flashing a bright smile.

“But the movie starts in 30 minutes, Soda. Johnny will be waiting for us . I don't want him to be alone. And why can't you just get a coke at the movies?” States an even younger boy.

“Because, child, their coke isn't as… crisp as this fine establishments.” The accentuation on the word crisp really pulled it all together. By the looks of them you had to guess they were Brothers. The slicked greasy hair, the soft eyes, the sibling banter.

“Fine, but if Darry gives us shit about not being where we are supposed to, I'm blaming you.” The boy pouts. Both of them walk over to the end of the counter and take the last two seats. You quickly deliver a few burgers to the men at the bar counter. Each one looks at you, winks, thanks you, then digs into their oily fries like they haven't eaten in days. You make a face of disgust then smile when they notice. You roll your way over to the two young boys.

“Hi there, sorry about the wait, what can I get for you boys today?” You say pulling out your pad and a pen, you click the pen as you wait for the boys to give you their orders. As you look up you can see the youngest one staring at you. He sees you notice and looks down at his lap. The other boy is still looking at the menu of drinks. You can see the thoughts pondering in his mind, he was acting like this decision would be his last.

“Hm lets see here, a nice Coca- Cola sounds good, but i haven't had a Dr. Pepper in a while…” The boy continues to contemplate his decision. Your shoulders slump in boredom as he takes what feels like years to decide. You can feel your eyelids get heavy until you are interrupted again by his loud and excited voice. “Ok i will have one large, no, medium. No wait! Large, Dr. Pepper!” You jot down his drink and turn to the other boy.

“And for you?”

“Just a chocolate shake please, Ma’am, Thank you.” The younger boy says. You smile at them and nod as you skate off to back to grab their drinks.

“She's new here, right? Have you seen her here?” Ponyboy says turning to Soda

“Nope haven't seen her til’ now. Hey, she's a pretty good looking gal” Soda says with a smirk on his face. “Wanna pull the good ol’ operation wingman?” Pony gave soda a disapproving look. Operation wingman was Soda's way of saying ‘Hey! That's a cute girl! Lets harass her into giving her number to their older brother because he's just a grumpy, lonely, muscle man that needs a loving gal in his life.’ Has it ever worked? No. Is that gonna stop him? Absolutely not.

“I don’t know Soda… The last time we did it we got in huge trouble, I mean, Darry got slapped. Can you imagine what would happen if it goes even worse?” Pony mentioned.

“First of all, Slapping her butt wasn't the original plan. I just HAPPENED to mention it to Two-Bit. He did it, then Darry paid the price. In all honesty I thought it would work.” Soda rebuked

“Really, that was your plan. Wow you are quite the genius.”

“Hey woah man now don't get ugly on me.”

“Soda, I don't know. Shouldn't we let Darry find love for himself?”

“That workaholic is never gonna find a date. He goes to work, comes home, showers, reads his newspaper , and then goes to bed. No gal finds that attractive. He needs major help. I mean, the last time he talked to a woman was Mrs. Crawly down the road asking if he could get her cat down the tree.” Soda rants on. If Darry were here he would say otherwise. ( but yes that is the last time he had a conversation with a lady).

“I don’t know Soda, she's new, I don't want to scare her off already. And maybe she's a soc.” Pony fights back.

“Oh come one man. Believe in something. Believe…” Soda looks at Pony with a pleading look. He knew that he was just trying to help his brother. But Soda wasn't Darry. Darry was a charming guy, but not like Soda. Soda had a natural effect on women and never struggled. So when he sees his brother struggling to get anywhere in life romantically, he plays cupid… more or less.

Pony looks at the window through the diner to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of you. You were a pretty girl and from the sounds of it you were nice as well. Welcoming customers, smiling at them. You had just a nice smile overall, a very bright and kind one. Pony knew Darry needed someone like that. Almost on cue you started walking out with their drinks

“Fine, but we are doing it my way this time.” Pony whispers to Soda but quickly shuts up before you get there.

“Alrighty boys here you go! Is that all for you today? You say pulling out your pen and pad.

“Yep, Thank you Ma’am. Um, but do you know when you guys close. Me and my friends were planning on coming in later.” Pony takes a long swig of his shake. “And I-I mean this is the best shake I have ever had. If you are here tonight, would you be able to make me another one?” Ponys' request was sly and smart. Asking the perfect questions, all while keeping it subtle. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. ‘What a weird thing to say’ you thought to yourself.

“Well lucky you, I'm actually closing today. The best time to come is 10. After rush, but before all them truckers come in. Guess I'll be seeing y’all tonight then” You smiled and handed them the bill and walked off to help another customer. Ponyboy looked at Soda with a smug look. Soda then looked at the clock and panic spread over his face.

“Shoot Pony we gotta go! We're gonna be late!” Soda yelled as he hopped off the bar stool and pulled out enough to cover the bill and a dollar as a tip. Pony and Soda ran out the door of the diner, But Pony hesitated and ran back inside.

“What's your name Ma’am!” Pony yells in, grabbing everyone's attention.You whipped your head back.

“Y/N!” You yelled back. Ponyboy nodded and ran out the door again. You shook your head, and thought to yourself ‘what a bunch of funny kids’.

#darry curtis #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry x reader #the outsiders darry #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis #darry curtis x you #darry curtis imagine #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders imagine

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babyblue711 · 1 year

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Temptation

Ettore (High Life) x Reader - Part 1 Summary: Tired of the monotony of everyday life aboard the spaceship, you decide to start a little game to taunt Ettore. But your plan backfires and now you must deal with the consequences of temptation. This fic was heavily inspired by these two songs. I recommend giving them a listen before continuing: "Fill the Void" by Lily-Rose Depp & The Weeknd and "Little Girl Gone" by CHINCHILLA Words: 6.3K

Warnings: PLEASE READ! NSFW, Smut, Mature Themes 18+, Sexual Content 18+, Noncon, Dubcon, Rough Sex, Physical Violence, Mention of Suicide, Mention of Physical Abuse, Language, Degradation A/N: Consider Part 1 to be "just getting warmed up". I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to @arcielee for beta reading and @myfandomprompts for providing most of the pics and gifs! Dividers by @firefly-graphic

Every day was the same.

Trapped on this doomed spaceship that was destined for hell, every day felt like a relentless loop of monotony and misery. Same work, same people, same experiments, same old bullshit every fucking day.

The utilitarian living quarters of the spacecraft make you feel like you are in a mental hospital, cold and uninviting. Every facet of the interior is minimalistic; a mix of sterile clinical spaces and dimly lit, shadowy corridors. Blue light shines at night that’s supposed to help the inhabitants sleep. The bland functionality and oppressive “sameness” just makes you want to scream.

Some days it all becomes too much to bear and you feel a small part of you snap. You despise feeling helpless and not in control of your life anymore; with each beat of your heart, white hot fire courses through your veins. At times, you yearn to unleash your fury on someone, anyone, to let out the pent-up frustration that has been building within you for far too long. But then the storm inside of you passes and you settle back into your repetitive routine once more.

Your fellow shipmates are a bunch of criminals and weirdos. You try to make due with what you have, except for Dr. Dibs, whom you hate with your whole heart. Her cold demeanor and cruel experiments are a constant source of dread. She seems to derive pleasure from the suffering she inflicts upon you and the other girls aboard the ship.

Although you aren’t really sure you could call them friends, there are a few people you were “ok” with, mainly the other girls that also had to suffer through Dr. Dib’s sick experiments. A few of the guys are alright too; Monte is a loner that mainly keeps to himself and you’ve never heard him say an unkind word. Tcherny’s favorite place on the ship is the makeshift garden and you couldn’t blame him since it reminds everyone of Earth, of home.

Ettore is…unusual. He has a certain aura that just feels…off. Your hair stands up on the back of your neck whenever you catch him staring or whenever he passes too close in the corridor, as if an electric current surrounds him, radiating off of his body. He’s a man of few words; you’ve rarely ever heard him speak.

Amongst the girls, it’s well known that he doesn’t give a fuck if he is caught staring or leering, which he often is. Boyse especially dislikes him because he gives her the creeps. She normally has trouble sleeping at night because she says she can feel her skin crawl when he looks at her. You try your best to just ignore him most of the time.

Until one day, during lunch in the cafeteria, you are sitting with the girls, mingling and talking quietly, when you feel a tingle go down your spine. You glance up and immediately make eye contact with him.

His eyes lock onto yours, and you find yourself momentarily captivated by the intensity behind his gaze.

You were already having a bad day and you can feel the beginnings of another storm brewing inside. You’re sick of Ettore’s shit so you stare right back, issuing him a challenge in a silent duel to look away first. The air seems to sizzle with tension as you watch his glare harden when you don’t look away, like most of the girls normally do; he looks positively predatory with his sharp angular face and dark blue eyes.

You refuse to let him intimidate you. Your eyes are watering but you’re too involved in this stupid little battle of wills to concede to him now by blinking. Thankfully, a welcome interruption arrives in the form of Monte. Having not noticed the little contest between you and Ettore, he walks right in front, breaking the spell between you two. You blink rapidly and take a deep breath, watching as Ettore leans around Monte to look back at you, an unspoken promise in his stare that seems to say, I’m not done with you yet. You roll your eyes and look away.

“What are you looking at, Y/N?” Boyse asks from beside you, snapping you to attention.

“Uh...nothing,” you mumble back, not really wanting to engage with her.

“That fucking creep. He sits across from us to stare at us on purpose, have you noticed?” Boyse says, noticing the trail of your gaze.

“Yeah, I know but don’t let it bother you, Boyse, just ignore him,” you try to diffuse the situation. You don’t want to be involved in yet another incident where Ettore made a girl feel uncomfortable. Boyse goes back to picking at her food silently and you do the same.

You ignore him now; he isn’t worth your time or attention. Even though you get a bad vibe from him, you can’t help but notice a certain attractiveness about Ettore. He is tall and lean, with corded muscles on his arms, toned chest, and abs. He has a very angular face, strong jaw and chin with a sharp nose and luscious lips. You have to admit that you had never seen a man with as beautiful lips as his.

Lost for a moment thinking about his body, you bring yourself back to the present. You scold yourself; perhaps the monotony of this ship really was driving you insane, lusting after someone who gave off such ominous vibes. You swore to hate men for all eternity after what you had endured. That’s how you ended up in this hell hole to begin with….

After years of torment and physical violence of both you and your mother, you finally snapped and murdered your abusive stepfather in his sleep after he was passed out from another drunken rage.

But, despite arguing in court that your actions should be considered self defense after years of abuse, the jury found you guilty and sentenced you to life in prison...or join this sick experiment in space. You aren’t remorseful that you had killed your step-father. He got what he deserved and no other woman would have to deal with his violence ever again. However, when your mother learned that you had chosen to accept this mission in space, she couldn’t bear the pain of losing her only daughter. She took a bunch of pills and never woke up.

Now, you are an unloved, unwanted murderer and no one cared if you lived or died. This mission is perfect for people like you.

You’re standing in line for the shower that evening, towel in hand, when Ettore walks by; his hair is still wet from his shower and he’s wearing a fresh set of scrubs, towel slung over his shoulder. You see him coming and avert your eyes so as not to attract his attention. He saunters over anyway and you know he’s trying to annoy you on purpose.

He stops right beside your left shoulder and you reluctantly bring your eyes up to meet his gaze. His presence is imposing and you can't help but notice how much taller he is compared to you, making you feel small and vulnerable in his shadow. He leers, invading your personal space and it takes everything in you to not step back from him as he looks down his nose at you. Your eyes lock in a tense standoff, each daring the other to back down.

Despite your inner resolve, you feel a knot of tension in your stomach, and your hand instinctively tightens around the towel you're holding. It takes all your strength to hold your ground, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“I know what you’re doing,” he sneers in a low voice.

You realize that he is trying to intimidate you with some stupid alpha-male shit, but you are not afraid of him. Fire burns hot in your blood and you are ready for a fight.

“I’m not doin’ shit, Ettore, now fuck off,” you say back aggressively, letting him know you won’t be an easy meal with your tone.

“The fuck you aren’t,” he growls lowly, deep in his chest. He steps closer to you, suddenly trailing a finger from your eyebrow down the side of your face. The gesture is so unexpected that you flinch and freeze, staring up at him with wide eyes mixed with confusion and defiance.

“C’mon, love, I know you’re just playing hard to get,” he whispers as his eyes look you up and down suggestively. Finally, he turns and walks away.

As he exits the bathroom, you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding and think, What the fuck was that? You curse internally; you knew you shouldn’t have started anything back in the cafeteria. Now he thinks you’re interested or some shit. But…maybe you were, in a way? You feel conflicted, knowing that he thinks of you as an easy target.

Finally, it’s your turn for the shower. You undress quickly and start to relax as the hot water streams over your shoulders. As you’re washing your hair, an idea comes to you and butterflies flutter in your chest at your wicked thoughts, the most excitement you’ve felt in a long time. Because of your abusive past, you refuse to let anyone ever make you feel small and insignificant ever again and decide on the spot that Ettore is going to become your next target of torture. You knew his weakness; you’d exploit his obvious sexual deviousness, which was probably fueled by the rules on the ship that the inmates couldn’t engage in any sexual behavior with each other.

A dark chuckle escapes your lips. You’d show him who’s boss. Given the lack of privacy on the spacecraft, you’d never fear his retribution; you could tease him mercilessly and always be able to evade any potential advances if he thought he would take things further…or so you hoped.

A tiny alarm bell rings in the back of your mind. You knew that what you were planning was the equivalent to waking a sleeping dragon but you didn’t care. You are so beyond sick of the monotony of everyday life that you convince yourself that you needed this little extra bit of spice as an escape from the mundane reality of your circumstances.

So, you allow this little game to proceed between you and Ettore, a cocktail of emotions swirling within you: boredom, lust, anger, hatred, desire—all of them fuel this strange dance.

As the days pass by, you continue to provoke him with stolen glances and lingering eye contact that says more than words ever could. He responds eagerly to your meager attention, just as you knew he would. His advances quickly became more pronounced as simple stares turn into physical contact: brushing your shoulder on purpose as he walks by, daring you to react. Anytime you are in the same vicinity as him, you feel a magnetic energy pulling the two of you together. You have created this friction on purpose to drive him mad, but you can’t help but feel like you are getting caught up in it too…

Something had awoken in you that night when he touched your face in the bathroom. A wild, feral animal rattles at the bars of this proverbial cage that you had locked away deep inside a long time ago. Women aren’t supposed to be sexual creatures in the same way men are. It was a part of yourself that you have spent years hiding because you are afraid you’d just be labeled a whore or a slut. But what did it matter anymore on this dreaded spaceship? You can’t deny that you, too, feel a deep void, an ache in your chest, a need for something more.

Upon arriving back at your bunk one evening, you hear a deep breath from behind you. You whirl and see Ettore across the hallway, standing in another doorway, watching you. It’s the most provocative he’s looked thus far since he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. You hesitate, then decide to make a show of looking him up and down, biting your bottom lip, secretly admiring his toned chest and abs. When your eyes flick back up to his face, his gaze locks onto yours as he reaches into his pants and starts pleasuring himself right in front of you, not caring if anyone saw.

Your eyeballs pop in shock at this brazen display of desire. Your heartbeat picks up and a million thoughts start to race through your mind. Should you tease him in return? What if he decides to come into your bunk? Red flags wave a warning in the back of your mind and you knew you were walking on a razor’s edge. You think he’s about to take a step towards you when, thankfully, a door slams nearby and Ettore vanishes into the shadows. You let out a deep breath, doubting your stupid plan to taunt him that was working way too easily. A ripple of unease flows through you. You could feel that he was like a volcano waiting to explode. What would you do when he did?

You decide to ignore him from now on to try to diffuse the tension you had built between you both. He needs to get a grip and, honestly, so did you. So, as much as you despise it, you release your frustration within “The Box” when it all becomes too much to bear.

A few nights later, you are walking back to your bunk after visiting The Box. Still unsatisfied, you turn the corner and see Ettore scrubbing the floor in front of you, his back to you. He is shirtless again, dressed only in orange cargo pants. He doesn’t look around and you don’t think he’s heard your approach. You pause behind him, admiring the way his shoulder and back muscles ripple as he scrubs the floor. He has three tattoos, all black triangles; one on his right forearm, another on his left bicep, and finally, one on the right side of his neck. You assume they are symbolism for some type of gang. You’re staring, openly, almost hypnotized by the movement of his muscles.

“I know you’re there,” he says suddenly and you jump out of your revere, heart leaping into your throat. He continues to mop the floor, not even bothering to turn around.

You feign nonchalance and start to walk by him, glancing down just as he is looking up at you.

“I can do you better than that box, you know,” he purrs at you with a cocky smirk.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen at his words. Your heart pounds and you know you can’t give him any encouragement, so you give a noncommittal grunt before hurrying back to your bunk. When you lay in bed that night, you know, deep down, that if you stood there and watched him any longer, half naked on the floor, you might just be tempted to find out for yourself.

The next day starts like any other. You’ve been assigned to organize the storage room; a redundant and mundane task, located in the bottom level of the ship. You’ve been at it for a couple of hours, in the middle of inventorying the stockpile of supplies, when you feel a presence from behind. You don’t know what tipped you off exactly because he hasn’t made a sound, but you turn to see him silently shutting the door behind him and locking it, staring at you with a predatory gaze.

“The fuck do you want?” you ask aggressively, firing up at once. Anger is your first line of defense as your heartbeat picks up, but the smallest thrill of fear laces up your spine. An alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind, a small voice is screaming a warning to get out of that room. You are quite alone down here in this part of the ship and you doubt anyone would hear you if you try to scream. This was it…you had pushed him too far and now the consequence was right in front of you, looking at you mercilessly.

“I think you know what I want,” he almost growls, voice deep. “You have a choice, we can do this the easy way….or we can do this the hard way,” his gaze hardens as he stares at you.

“Fuck off,” you say defiantly back. Inside, you are cursing fluently. You knew this day would come, knew he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation. He chuckles as he steps closer until he’s right in front of you, looking down.

“You wanna know what I think?” he says, and you really don’t care what he thinks but you know he’s about to tell you anyway so you don’t even bother responding. “I don’t know what you did to land here on this cursed spaceship, but I think, deep down, you’re just a good little girl, pretending to be bad, aren’t you?” He says this as if hoping to corrupt your innocence; you smirk to yourself, thinking he has no idea who he’s messing with.

You raise your chin, looking him straight in the eyes and you just can’t help the words that escape from your mouth. “Well…this good little girl is only a bad girl for the right man,” you say with fire in your gaze, taunting him on purpose even though you know it’s a stupid thing to do. “And that sure as hell isn’t you.”

You could feel the heat radiate off of him from the proximity of his body so close to yours. He smirks and his eyes darken dangerously as he takes the bait.

“Is that so?” he says easily. “You’ve been provoking me for weeks. You think I didn’t know exactly what you were doing all along? I saw you staring at me too. I think you want me as much as I want you.” His eyes seem to burn into you with desire, lust blowing out his pupil.

“It was just a stupid little game, Ettore. It didn’t mean anything, it’s not that serious,” you know you’re babbling as you try to remain calm by playing it off like you don’t know what he’s talking about. His nostrils flare as he sniffs out your lie and you suddenly feel like a mouse that has just wandered into the lion's den. “Besides, you know we can’t,” you say sternly, referring to the rules, trying to get him to see reason.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. And I don’t give a fuck about Dibs’ rules,” he says menacingly.

Rage starts to come to your rescue as you realize he’s not going to listen to a word you say.

You level him with a hard glare. “I don’t fucking want you, Ettore,” you growl back at him.

Panic seizes you for a moment when he reaches for you suddenly and cups your face with his hand. His thumb runs over your cheek in an unexpected gentle caress before moving over your lips, pulling your bottom lip down. His eyes flick up to yours as lust surges through your core at his touch.

“Such a smart little mouth you have,” he says quietly as he takes a deep breath. “I won’t have a problem fucking the brat outta you.”

He moves so fast you don’t even have time to blink as he lunges for you, spinning you around and smashing you against some cardboard boxes stacked against the wall nearby. His fingers have a tight grip on your hair as he pushes your face into the box, using his knees to kick your legs apart, unbalancing you, one hand grabs your left arm and twists it behind your back. He moves at such a lightning pace that it momentarily takes your breath away.

He pulls your head back from the box by your hair and bends your neck to the side so he can run his nose from your ear to your shoulder, groaning like an animal in heat as he savors your smell. Your heart hammers in your chest. Shockwaves roll over you at the speed of his assault and you can’t even form words yet, only whimper slightly from the pain of having your hair pulled. At the same time, wetness pools at your center.

“I gave you an opportunity, didn’t I?” he whispers darkly in your ear. “It didn’t have to be like this, you stupid little cunt,” he grunts as you try to struggle with all your might to get away from him, but he’s just too big, too heavy, too strong to break free of his grasp.

Rage boils in your blood as you realize just how well and truly trapped you are. Deep down, you knew this would happen. You realize he saw an opportunity to get you alone and he took it. You know what’s about to happen and you know you can’t stop it, but you aren’t going down without a fight.

Your breathing is fast as he starts kissing your neck, biting down on your pulsepoint, feeling your heart race.

“Fuck you, Ettore,” you say through gritted teeth.

Provocatively, he grinds his hard cock against your ass through your clothes. “Oh, you will,” he growls as he lets go of your hair to effectively pin your arms behind your back with one hand. With the other free hand, he starts exploring your body, running his hand over your breasts and squeezing until he trails down lower, dipping his fingers under the band of your pants.

You truly lose it at this moment as you feel him reach for your core. You struggle and fight for all your worth and he's forced to stop his path to your center and hold onto you tighter to keep you from getting away. His fingers latch around your throat and he squeezes hard, immobilizing you easily as you struggle to take a breath. His body pushes you further into the boxes, leaning his weight on you.

“Stop fighting me,” he loudly growls into your ear aggressively. “You stupid little bitch, I know I do things to you too, just the same as you do me,” he breathes harshly. “Look how your body responds to me,” your nipples are pebbled against your shirt and he could clearly feel them when he assaulted your front a moment ago.

“And I bet, if I touched you right now, you’d be wet, wouldn’t you, love?” he licks the outer rim of your ear and releases his grip on your throat. As you gasp and suck in air, as his fingers reach below your panties and his fingers find your slippery core. You whimper and draw shallow breaths as he groans into your ear when he feels how wet your cunt is.

He dips down to your opening and gathers some slick, bringing it up to circle your bud and you feel the fight slowly leave your body. It has been so long since a man touched you, you feel like a switch has been flipped, lust now running rampant through your veins, like a shot of ecstasy to your system. He feels you relax under his hand and loosens his hold on your wrists that are still pinned behind your back. You moan softly and lean into him.

“That’s what I thought, you little slut,” he whispers in your ear. You allow yourself to enjoy this moment, but you’ve already formulated a secondary plan and intend to make him pay for this too. You’re simply lulling him into a false sense of security right now. By loosening his hold, he’s actually done exactly what you wanted. You let him circle your bud for a few more times, before you tense, spinning around and shoving him away from you as hard as you can. You aren’t the only one who’s going to feel pain today as renewed rage pounds in your chest.

You leap at him and the fight for dominance ensues as you grapple with each other, falling onto the floor. Physically, you know you are no match for him, but taking your anger and frustration out on him just feels so good. You kick and punch and scratch and scream. He’s doing everything he can to block and contain your flurry of blows but he’s not hit back yet either. Even if he does, that’s nothing new to you; you still have plenty of scars from your step-father.

You’re on top at first, but you’re under no illusion that you’re “winning”, just simply letting the frustration out as you claw at his chest. He quickly decides he’s tired of being your punching bag and he flips you over and lays his full weight on top of you, pinning you to the floor.

You wrap him in a bear hug on the floor, thinking that if he can’t lean away from you to punch you, you’re safe from any strong direct hits from him. You’re both breathing heavily, Ettore trapped between your legs and you try to kick him from your position but he grabs your hip and pinches harshly, causing you to yelp in pain.

He wiggles free of your arms, pinning your hands above your head with one of his as he looks down at you, fury in his gaze.

“Are you fuckin’ done yet?” he taunts you, knowing you’re pinned now.

You literally growl back at him like a rabid, wild animal and show him your teeth; maybe he’ll think you’re insane and he won’t want to continue this anymore. It doesn’t work...

He smirks instead. “There she is…you weren’t lying earlier about the bad girl thing were you? I got myself a right little she-devil, haven’t I?” He chuckles darkly, a menacing sound causing fear to tingle at the base of your spine. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you tamed by the end.”

You don’t respond, distracted by his other hand that has traveled up your shirt, roving over your breasts. You try to buck him off but he’s just too heavy and you barely get him to budge. In alarm, you realize you’ve missed your chance to escape. He watches your face as he touches you and you glare back up into his eyes, hating feeling helpless like this. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he squeezes your breasts and then runs his warm hand down your ribs.

Hatred and fury pound in your chest, but you’re caught off guard that he isn’t beating you to a pulp. It’s what you had come to expect from men, especially after the physical altercation you just had with him. Involuntarily, you feel yourself relax a little at his touch and your breathing becomes a little more steady. After a few more moments, he notices the tension leave you and suddenly his lips find yours in a violent kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. He starts grinding his pelvis into your aching cunt and you moan into his kiss, hating yourself for liking this but you succumb to his attentions, unable to resist more. Animalistic lust and desire blooms from deep within, your head swirls from his kiss, your body aches for his touch.

You surrender the fight. “Take your shirt off,” you say when you both come up for air from your kiss; he knows he has to let go of your hands in order to remove his clothes.

“Are you going to stop fighting me?” he asks and you nod. He smirks, “so you gonna be a good girl now?”

“Shut up, Ettore, it's your dick I want, not you,” you growl back at him and his grin widens.

He lets go of your hands and quickly pulls his shirt over his head. You notice the red marks on his chest from where you clawed him earlier. You watch his abs contract with each panting breath, noticing his defined chest and lean muscles of his arms. You feel more wetness pool in your core as your eyes appreciate his body.

You reach for the bottom of your shirt and surprise him by removing it yourself, your breasts pebbling in the cool air; you barely bothered wearing a bra anymore. He looks down hungrily at them, running his hands softly over your nipples. You arch your back and he immediately takes one in his mouth, the other rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your hands are in his hair as you grind your hips into his hard length. He bites down on the skin of your left breast, sucking a bruise onto the skin while massaging the other one firmly with his other hand. He moves upwards, kissing along your collarbone until he reaches your neck, biting, licking and sucking at all of your exposed skin. You rake your fingernails down his back, becoming impatient for more.

He pulls away from your neck and sits up, reaching for your pants. You lift your hips so he can remove them completely. He admires your naked body, laying bare on the floor beneath him, the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, your wet cunt open for him. From his position kneeling between your legs, he takes your knees and spreads them apart, opening your pussy more for his view, groaning deep in his chest as his eyes feast upon your body. Deciding to tease him a little, you reach down and start playing with your bud and he stares shamelessly.

“Fuck,” he murmurs and watches you for a few moments. “Such a needy little slut aren’t you?”

You moan and grind into your own hand, fingers dipping down to your entrance to gather some slick onto your fingers. You bring them up to your mouth to taste yourself, knowing that you’re about to drive him absolutely wild. Since he’s seen your “feral animal” wild-side, now you want to see his too.

His mouth hangs open, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breathing as he watches your lips close around your fingers as you taste yourself and moan. His restraint snaps in an instant.

He pulls down his pants, freeing his large, veiny cock and gives it a couple pumps, watching your face. Your eyes widened at the sight; his cock is bigger than you expected, long and thick, a pearl of his spend visible on the tip. Your eyes meet and you’re sure he can see the slight trepidation in yours as he smirks.

“You can fuckin’ take it,” Ettore says confidently, as if this is supposed to reassure you. He doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up with your entrance.

You were wet and willing and ready for him but you cry aloud as he sheathes himself fully in one thrust, not caring to take things slow with you. You pant and arch your back as his large cock fills you so completely full, eyes popping a little at the intensity of the intrusion. The stretch burns more than you anticipated and you focus on breathing through the pain.

He gives you a few shallow thrusts before mumbling, “Fuckin’ hell, your pussy is so fuckin’ tight - sorry if that hurt a little after all,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound sorry at all.

He pauses for a moment as he watches your face wince at the pain. He doesn’t give you long though, knowing that he’s hurting you but can’t seem to control himself as his hips start to snap into yours at a steady pace.

After a few thrusts, you’ve adjusted to his size and pleasure starts to course through your core. You begin to meet his thrusts with your hips. He seems to take that as a sign to speed up as he suddenly pounds into you, much harder, causing you to cry aloud not from pain, but from pleasure.

His hips snap into yours as he fucks you hard, brutally, wickedly, deliciously, and you groan as lightning races from your cunt into your chest. Pleasure starts to build deep inside as his thick cock continually rubs your g-spot. He grabs one leg and puts it over his shoulder and leans over you, changing the angle, driving you wild and your walls start to clench around him.

“Gonna cum for me already?” he pants, an amused smirk on his luscious lips.

“Fuck, Ettore,” you mewl as the pleasure starts to overwhelm your senses. It had been so long since you felt this good. “Harder,” you challenge him, as if he isn’t already fucking you hard enough.

He glances up at your face before withdrawing completely and you feel momentary emptiness at the void left behind as he pulls out from your aching pussy. Flipping you over on your stomach, bringing your ass back in the air as he kneels behind you. You prop yourself up on your elbows as your knees dig into the cold, hard floor; you know you’ll have bruises on your knees from this position. He thrusts back into your aching core with a guttural groan and you feel a stinging slap to your rear end. You cry aloud and mewl pathetically, then feel him yank on your hair from behind. He pulls you up so that your palms are now resting on the floor, your neck pulled back, held by his grip in your hair; he fucks you ruthlessly as he rides you from behind. His other hand grips your hip so hard you know you’ll have more bruises tomorrow.

You both are panting heavily as he lands another blow to your ass, harder this time, you’re positive a red handprint remains and you may even form yet another bruise with the strength of his slap. He doesn’t even bother to run his hand along the tender skin to soothe it, he just keeps thrusting with single-minded intensity. The slaps sting but in a pleasurable way as you feel your core become impossibly wetter each time he hits you.

You reach a hand down to play with your pearl, your walls clenching around his thick cock as pleasure coils low in your belly.

The bites, the bruises, the ache around your throat from being choked, the pull of your hair on your scalp, the sore spot on your ass cheek from his repeated slaps, the drag of his thick cock inside your wet, tight pussy causes your mind to go blissfully blank, all of the sensations overwhelming you. Your eyes roll in your head and you idly wonder how much pain and how much pleasure your body could handle until it snaps.

Ettore can feel your orgasm approach as your walls start to spasm around him.

“Little slut, gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” he growls, increasing his tempo.

You have the wherewithal to get out one request before it’s too late. You try to speak in between his brutal thrusts. “Please…Ettore,” you pant. “When you cum, pull out.” All of the women who had gotten pregnant through Dibs’ sick experiment ended up dying. You didn’t want that fate just yet.

He doesn’t respond, continuing his pace and your breathing becomes harsh as you approach the precipice of your orgasm. The coil snaps and your release rips through you, obliterating everything else, your vision goes white. You cry out his name as he continues to fuck you through your high.

“Fuckin’ shit,” he grunts as he feels your cunt clench down on him. Your orgasm is still rolling through you but he can’t hold back any longer, he pulls out and paints your ass with his spend.

He finally lets your hair go and you collapse onto the floor and he falls next to you. You both pant and breath harshly for a few minutes, not saying anything. As you come down from your high from your intense orgasm, reality sets in: part of you feels satisfied for the first time in a long while, the other part of you feels like you can’t believe you just let that happen to you. You wanted it but you didn’t want it; you didn’t know how to feel. You feel relief that he at least listened and pulled out.

Finally, he sits up and starts looking for his clothes. You take one last deep breath and are about to do the same when you unexpectedly feel him clean his spend off of you with his shirt, making you jump a little. He’s a little rough with the wiping but the gesture is almost nice for Ettore. He throws your shirt and pants over to you and you both get dressed in silence.

He helps you up off the floor and lifts your chin with his finger.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he warns, looking deep into your eyes. You nod in acquiescence, there is no way you’d ever tell anyone, but you give him the reassurance that he needs.

A smug smile plays on his lips. “So compliant now, I see. I told you I would fuck the brat outta you.” You scowl and try to pull away from him but he’s trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He leans in closer and you think he’s about to kiss you, but he doesn’t.

“You’re mine now, mine to use whenever I want, my own little slut, you fuckin’ belong to me. Don’t forget it,” he squeezes your chin and gives you one last dark glare before opening the door and exiting the storage room, leaving you stunned.

You watch him go and feel a little paralyzed. You feel as though you just opened Pandora’s box.

What monster have you just unleashed?

>>> Part 2

Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @pandemonium105 @aemondsscar @cyeco13 @multyfangirl @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @sylas-the-grim @megatardisbaby

#ewan mitchell #ettore high life #ettore x reader #ewan nation #ettore fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ettore smut #ettore crackfic

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ave09 · 1 year

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cheater

indiana jones x wife!reader

note: the title is very deceiving lmao. i’m still on my indy kick, and i’m about to write some han stuff bc i love that man. this is set after temple of doom and is just some nice fluff

“you cheat again dr. jones!”

“i did not!”

“once a cheat, always a cheat, dr. jones!” shorty exclaimed. you couldn’t help but laugh as you exited the kitchen, a plate of assorted fruits in your hands.

indiana and shorty were seated on the floor, cards in hand. upon returning to shang hai, you all had decided to lay low for a bit. after dealing with the thugee cult and barely escaping with your lives, a break was very much needed.

so you’d rented a hotel room and hadn’t left in three days, trying to rest and recharge.

you moved toward the coffee table that the two were seated near, placing the plate of fruit onto the table top. “honey, can you tell shorty that i’m not cheating?”

you glanced at your husband and shrugged, “i don’t know if i can, you do tend to cheat at these sort of games.”

the man gasped dramatically, feigning offense, “i am wounded, sweetheart! my own wife thinks me out to be a cheater.”

“you’ve done it one too many times indy, i just don’t know if i’d trust you with the cards.”

indiana set his cards face down upon the floor, a devilish grin upon his face as he stood up, moving toward you.

“you think of me as dishonest? a scoundrel?” he asked, his hands resting upon your hips. you glanced up at him, a smile toying on your lips, “maybe, maybe not.”

indiana leaned in slightly, “but you like me cause i’m a scoundrel.”

“hm, i don’t know. i have a thing for nice men.”

he scoffed, “honey, i’m the nicest man around.” he then pressed his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. your arms snaked around his neck, while his drifted lower down your hips.

“hey! indy and the missus! stop that!”

a laugh bubbled in your throat as you pulled away from your husband, glancing at the boy who’s expression had morphed into one of disgust.

indiana shook his head lightly, “y’know, sometimes i forget the kid is here.” “indy!”

“i’m just jokin’ honey.” he mumbled, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“ew, dr. jones!”

#indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #harrison ford x reader #harrison ford #indiana jones and the temple of doom #temple of doom #short round #ke huy quan

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nsmn2s · 2 years

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#doom #doom oc #doomguy x reader #doom slayer #doom slayer x reader #doomguy #my art #doom marauder x reader #marauder x reader #dr samuel hayden #samuel hayden x reader #doom夢絵 #doo夢すみません #夢絵 #doom hell knight x reader #hell knight #hell knight x reader #doo夢

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zemossunshine · 2 years

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Sunshine Chapter 45

Pairings: Zemo x You Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Warnings for this chapter:Threats.

Darling I have been afraid, I could only call your name. Thank the heavens that you stayed, but if I’m telling you the truth, when I cut the tether loose, it was me saving you. So tell me did you ever really want me? Did you ever really love me, now that I see you clearer. I wonder, was I ever really happy? Lyrics owned by Demi Lovato.

–

“Who are you?”

A sharp intake of breath from both Sam and Bucky, not Zemo, he was prepared as you were. Every muscle in your body tensed, you had to be ready for whatever reaction came from Zemo. You had to be alert at all times, you couldn't afford for this not to work, you couldn't afford to be in any more situations that brought out the worst in you.

“Can you tell us your name?” Sam asked.

“I don’t remember.” You answered automatically, almost robotically.

“What is the last moment you recall?” Zemo asked softly.

“I don’t remember.” You repeated a bit more firmly, that was your new mantra. That you just didn't remember. That you had no memories at all, not one, at the very least it was plausible. This was the only way out of all this mess. Maybe if you just said you forgot it all, then one day you could. To start over as Wanda suggested, the opportunity was too good to pass up. You would begin again, all of the questions that swirled in your mind would go unanswered, the questions screaming at you, would only ever be met with silence. You had to swallow the truth for years and now everyone else would have to, they would just have to deal with it. To be with Rebecca, but not as her mother, it would keep her safe and you were sure it would hurt more than anything you had ever known. You couldn’t give yourself away as easily anymore, you just had to convince everyone that this was the truth. Manipulate them into believing you, to try and beat Zemo at his own game. Fighting all of your instincts and the heavy pit in your stomach you slowly raised your head, schooling your expression. Zemo’s head was inclined, his honey eyes penetrating your very being, as if he were back in oblivion. The weight of his gaze clawed at your throat and yet you couldn’t look away. He reached out with an ice pack and placed it gently on your head, you forced yourself to remain still as he got closer, you blew out a breath when the coolness touched your skin. You attempted a grateful smile, all while your heart pounded. The veneer of control he had was truly something to behold.

“How are you feeling?” Zemo breathed out as if he were in heaven.

“Dizzy, foggy, my heart hurts.” You reeled off the symptoms of a concussion that you looked up earlier in the day. Breaking eye contact with Zemo you looked up at Bucky. His icy glare felt colder than the coolness on your head. “I should go.” You murmured giving into the parts of you telling you to flee.

“No.” Zemo and Bucky answered in unison. You swallowed thickly. The instant denial, you would never leave this house and you knew that, but all of the attention was focused on you. You were grateful to not immediately wake in the basement but this was three pairs of eyes staring, piercing your brain, reading you like an open book and it was far more than you were used to.

“What’s the big emer-” Maria halted, wide eyes staring at you. They called Maria while you were under and here she was, relief at seeing her flooded you, you weren't going to be as isolated as you thought. Maria started into a sprint for you, Bucky pulled her back and shook his head with an expression telling Maria to tread carefully.

“Maria, I discovered this woman at the boundary of my property. She is having difficulty identifying herself.”

Maria frowned, took in the look on each man's face and then presented herself to you with a strained smile. “My name is Maria, I work for a government agency, I’ll need your fingerprints. Is there anything you need?”

Victor. I want Victor.

Zemo’s eyes narrowed. Shit. You shook your head vigorously which brought on a wave of nausea you suspected had been sitting just under the surface from the moment you opened your eyes. Being alone in a room didn’t bode well for you in the past. Maria took a fingerprint on her device and handed it back blindly to whoever took it first, which of course was Zemo. You knew exactly what information he would see, the last remnants you and Maria left behind. All three men crowded around the small screen. Zemo’s face didn’t move at all. Sam started chewing his lip, Bucky gave a single terse nod.

“No matches I’m afraid.” Zemo lied. Maria whipped her head around and Zemo smiled cunningly at her. But it was what you wanted, what you needed. You needed to be a stranger and most importantly not his wife, despite the thin gold band residing on his finger. Bucky made a move towards the door and sure enough everyone’s eyes followed him.

“Dad?” A tiny voice mumbled. Zemo swiftly lifted Rebecca into his arms and a genuine smile spread across your face. Her nightie was askew, her hair dishevelled, bleary eyed she rested her head on Zemo’s shoulder gripping onto a white wolf teddy which dangled from her hand. Maria rushed to move out of the way and Zemo resumed his position at the edge of the bed. Rebecca pulled away and her hands landed on your chest, shocked you looked around, you didn’t know what to do, she continued to crawl up onto you. Fear. Utter terror coursed through you. Yet Zemo has this look, that you were finally where you belonged, that Rebecca was sleeping on your chest, that you were both safe, both home. We made this, she’s perfect. Yet you knew that came with a clause, you would be imprisoned. Zemo rested a hand on her back and inhaled deeply, as if he finally could breathe, knowing you were both safe.

“You should get some sleep.” Sam interjected, jerking his head towards the door, indicating that he was not as sold on this as everyone else. That a game plan needed to be established. You tried to sit up for Zemo to take Rebecca back, you weren't exactly comfortable with her being this close to someone so evil.

“Rebecca is safe with you.” Zemo said sternly, you weren't so sure about that. You didn’t even move your hands, they were still stuck at your sides, the hands that had caused so much destruction shouldn't touch something as precious as Rebecca. As Zemo left he took a picture of you for what he said was for facial recognition. Beaming down and the messy mousey brown hair, that was all you could see, you couldn't believe that you were finally with Rebecca, you could finally see her, be in her presence, live with her, you so desperately wanted to hold her and never let go. All of the things you missed, you never got to do, push a pram, rock her to sleep, see her, all of her firsts, her first smile, first steps, first word, hold her when she cried and you could cope with that, You would go back and miss it all over as long as she never had to live like you had. You slowed your breathing to match her shallow breaths and soon your heart slowed. You waited until Bucky gave the signal on the other side of the door, that as far as he could hear, you were sleeping.

“We need to get her checked out.” Sam started.

“She isn’t leaving Sam, ever.” Bucky growled.

“Buck use that cyborg brain of yours, she lived with-”

“We can’t tell her.” Maria’s voice sounded so small.

“You expect me to keep a mother from her child?” Zemo fumed quietly.

“We won’t be, they’ll be together.” Maria offered.

“A life that is a complete fallacy. I won’t withhold that information from her.” Zemo stressed.

“Then tell her, but she told us to drop a building on her head a week ago. She won’t cope knowing what, who she really is.” Maria lamented.

“No way, I don’t like this. She told me you all did this to her, sent her over the edge.” Sam butted in.

“It’s not up to you.” Maria shut Sam up just with her tone. “It’s not even up to me.” Her voice shifted into something that sounded like it was in pain, you knew how much it would hurt her to hand this power to Zemo again. “You can give her the life she deserves Zemo. We, no you, you can save her.”

Not a moment passed when the door bounced back from being flung open so forcefully and in your panic you instinctively protected Rebecca, placing your hands on her to shield her from whatever was coming. She didn’t even twitch, Zemo’s eyes changed to something more shrewd, he was holding back. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands firmly on his knees in some sort of turmoil, he had to give you up, set you free, just as Oeznik said, although he knew that this is not exactly what Oeznik had in mind.

“Your name is Sunshine. No living relatives, no missing person’s report. You have seemingly appeared from thin air. You will assimilate into life with myself and Rebecca from now on. Her mother-” Zemo looked away briefly, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you to lie about this, “Passed away from complications in childbirth.”

“Oh.” You remarked, trying to take in the information of your new existence, you and Zemo didn't have any family, all you had was each other. By saying you weren't Rebecca's mother she would never have to face the truth, that she was the offspring of evil, you and Zemo both were and you couldn't allow her to be. Couldn't let her know the monster you had become. Couldn't say it was utter insanity to take in a stranger. Bucky plastered a smile on his face, Sam looked as if he couldn't believe he was having to watch this twice and Maria just looked nervous, she was sure Zemo wouldn't believe her lies. Even if he didn't he was going along with the plan. “Should I go to the police? Or?”

“No. Sam’s a superhero, you're good here.” Bucky beamed.

“Superhero?” You feigned as if you did not know what that was.

“Yes. Almost as if you were planted at this precise location.” Zemo hummed jarringly.

“Have you ever been to New York?” Maria smiled happily despite the glares from Bucky and Zemo, she just gave you information that would have been concealed.

“Are you all superheroes?” You inquired attempting to change the subject. A deceptive smile formed on Zemo’s face, almost as if he were considering peddling that story, Bucky was going back and forth on the same thing, Maria stared at them both open mouthed. She was stuck, she couldn’t disclose the truth, not out loud anyway. The precious girl lying on your chest distracted you, shifting her weight to sit up, rubbing her eyes. Don’t be black. You didn't consider that before, you had never seen her eyes, yawning finally revealing her golden brown eyes, your heart leapt. Giving her as much of a gentle smile as you could, you hoped she wouldn’t be afraid. What if she hated you? She placed her hands on either side of your face as studied your hollow eyes curiously.

“Wow.” She breathed. Your smile widened, she wasn't scared, which come to think of it was alarming. You were a stranger with blackened eyes and she accepted you without a word. Trusting. She would trust her own father, you could cope with that, ignore the fact she didn’t ask a single question regarding your presence. She moved her hand to where you assumed bruising was forming and rubbed in gently, your heart melted.

“Rebecca, this woman will be residing with us from now on. You may call her Sunshine.”

She nodded looking back at Zemo, catching Sam in her sight she jumped off you and clung onto Sam’s legs, the same with Maria. “UNCLE BUCKY!” She squealed, jumping up. Bucky's face split into utter joy lifting her up onto his shoulders, where her hands held on with tufts of his hair. Bucky is her favourite? She cleared her throat, Bucky rooted into his pockets and held up an array of coins to her.

“Becca tax.” He sighed. Sam and Maria dipped into their pockets and held up loose change to her, she took one coin each, glee ridden at her prizes. This looked like some sort of routine. Bucky let her down, she giggled holding out her hand to you. She was so full of life, it was remarkable, taking her hand she pulled and everyone stepped back indicating for you to follow. Cloak draping around you, you trailed behind her excited little footsteps. Her bedroom was a burst of colour. A rainbow of tapestry surrounded her far too large bed, flowing from the ceiling to the floor. A few well selected toys, half a dozen snow globes from around the world, teddys that surrounded her bed, a bookshelf full of fairy tales. She flipped her covers back and shock fluttered across her face and before you could ask what was wrong Zemo entered with the white wolf teddy, knowing exactly what she was looking for. She hugged it close to her chest and then placed it on her pillow in prime position.

“Rebecca is quite taken with you.” Zemo noted.

You couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. Turning back just to watch her, to take in every moment as you had missed so much. “ She is amazing.”

“She didn’t get that from me.” Zemo affirmed.

That made you turn to look at Zemo, he didn't meet your eyes, he was watching Rebecca too, almost wistfully. He couldn't seriously believe that she was who she was because of you. You weren’t here and you were not even close to as perfect as she was. “Maria has returned home to fetch you some fresh clothing.” Ah yes, the dirt, smothered across your face, you couldn't even feel it, you didn’t care. You made yourself comfortable on the floor as Rebecca introduced you to each of her teddys, all named after the animals that they were, Rhino, Lion, Cat, White Wolf. She was so well spoken, but you didn’t expect any less. She showed you all of her snow globes that Zemo brought back for her, no doubt from his missions, you had been to these countries, there was a high chance you were there at the same time, swished the fabric around her bed, rambled about the princesses in her books, you could sit here forever and never leave. That's why you didn’t notice when Maria dumped clothes in your lap, didn’t notice that much time had passed, didn’t notice Zemo still leaning on the door frame staring at you both in a state of bliss.

You didn’t want to leave Rebecca but you would have to shower eventually, a very quick shower and then back to her. Maria by your side you walked with ease back to the master bedroom, when you should have least made the effort to dawdle or look lost. Grabbing a bed sheet you hung it over the shower, so any camera’s wouldn’t see you. You had to remember who the owner of this house was, and hope there wasn’t any device in the shower head. Maria stayed in your room, no doubt with the intention of stopping anyone who even attempted to get close to you in this vulnerable state. Dressing inside the cubicle with damp skin, you wondered where you could store your cloak, chances were it was going to be taken from you, but you could try. Maria gave you a look, reminding you to keep your head in the game, collecting all of your soiled clothing, she was going to wash it personally, everything, there was a good chance Zemo might test any fragments of soil. You smiled gratefully at her and you both stepped out of the room, in anticipation of whatever came next.

Entering the kitchen, the first thing that struck you was that it had been remodelled. I seemed bigger, much bigger, A huge island with four chairs Four? Rebecca, Zemo, Oeznik and who? White tiles with black worktops, just like your kitchen in Louisiana. Rebecca’s hair, now not sticking out in every direction, but in a plait. Her high cheekbones accentuating, her bright smile lit up the room atop Bucky’s shoulders as he flipped pancakes so high they reached her eye line. Nothing on this earth or any other could match her glow, it permeated the air. All the times you had been asked what your favourite thing was, she was right there. She seemed so soft and delicate. Sam prodded Bucky trying to throw him off, trying to find ways to make her happy, she had no idea of the truth that surrounded her. You had to settle on the fact that she was too young to understand.

“James, stop teaching my daughter poor table manners.”

Bucky had just discreetly passed her a small slither of pancake, which she was trying to scoff down before Zemo noticed. Bucky put his lip out matching Rebecca's and slid her down to the floor. Rebecca raced out of the room, before you could follow, a picture on the fridge stopped you in your tracks. A picture of you, on display, where Rebecca had certainly seen it, more than likely daily. You were stepping down from a helicopter, Zemo’s hand entwined with yours helping you down, looking up at you, like you were the only thing in his world, utterly smitten. This was the day you escaped the raft, when you were just a naive woman who chose him, before your powers, before everything. The wind had picked your hair up, your face was obscured, Oeznik took this and you suspected it was by his insistence that it was placed here. Maria got your attention and you were sure her head did a full rotation urging you out of the room, where no doubt Sam and Bucky witnessed you tracing your fingers across the image. Zemo pulled a chair out for Rebecca and she sat at the head of the table in the dining room. Zemo sat just to the side of her, still in his state of euphoria. You sat opposite Zemo so you could be as close to Rebecca as possible, Maria made sure she nabbed the seat to your other side. Bucky brought in a huge stack of pancakes, Sam behind with butter and maple syrup. Everyone dug in, not you, you wouldn’t ever feel anything but fascination for your daughter.

“When was the last time you ate?” Zemo snapped you out of the trance.

“I don’t remember.” You spoke clearly, his questions would not catch you out. Not here, not today, not tomorrow either. You didn’t give a fuck about food. This was the best day of your life, you wouldn't ever need sustenance again.

“I suppose that is for the best if you haven't flown before.”

Flown? We’re leaving?

–

Wiping away Rebecca’s crocodile tears from her eyes, kissing your palm and holding it to her barely grazed knee from tripping over, your entire being felt scorned that she was hurt, that she should feel any kind of pain. “Magic kisses take all of the pain away.” Your heart shattered for her, but you would do whatever you had to, to never see pain in her innocent eyes.

“If only that were true.” Zemo commented. Your heart sank, you lied to her, bold face without a shred of remorse. If I choose my words carefully. Then you would never have to lie again, you just had to be mindful with your words, another life lesson from Victor. You didn’t feel any apprehension walking onto the quinjet, if anything you were confused, you were leaving, what’s more Rebecca was. But as Maria lifted her onto her lap and Rebecca pointed at the correct series of switches and levers for take off, you knew she had left the house, enough times to know the sequence needed on a quinjet to fly. She was not as imprisoned as you once thought. Maria encouraged her to press buttons all while she was in control. Before long Sam approached you and asked you to sit with him. On his phone he brought up images of himself and gave you a very quick rundown of how he became Captain America. Then he moved onto Bucky, but he lingered a bit too long on the images of Bucky all in black and red star on his arm.

“Buck’s married to my sister.” Sam smiled, yet his finger traced the word extremely dangerous. There was no way Sam didn’t trust Bucky. “Bucky is part of the Thunderbolts now and Zemo is their leader.” Again his finger ran across the word extremely dangerous. The look in his eye, he needed you to acknowledge that you got his message, but honestly you could barely keep your eyes off Rebecca. Completely blocked out Zemo and Bucky huddling in the corner, no doubt coming up with new and inventive ways to keep you in chains. You couldn't really tell them it wasn't necessary, you were staying in the house willingly. You only reacted when someone nudged your shoulder, living for years having someone who sought out permission before they could touch you, formed habits, habits you would need to break.

“My name is Helmut Zemo. As you will be residing with Rebecca and I, I thought it may be best to tell you a little about myself.”

You're evil, got it. You patted the floor next to you and looked at him expectantly. Ready to hear a plethora of stories that painted him in a good light and how he was doing all the right things now, fighting the good fight. The first thing you learned was that the Thunderbolts were strictly off the books, which is why you and Victor could never find any information about Zemo, it was almost as if he disappeared. Zemo then told you who he was, except, he told you exactly who he was. EKO scorpion, the quite frankly terrifying crimes he was committing in the name of the government currently, the UN bombing, the mind control of Bucky, the people he killed just because he decided they didn’t deserve life. That he had no desire to aid a corrupt government, but he was attempting to atone for his sins. You hated that you noticed when the sun caught his hair, it was golden just like Rebeccas. Hated that you could feel yourself getting lost in his eyes. You hated that he pulled your attention from Rebecca, did you yearn for his voice? Did you miss it? Did you want to kick yourself in the face? Yes. “..Someone once gave me the title of being the most manipulative person on the planet.” You are.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to list the crimes you haven’t committed?” Maria jabbed.

“Should I stay somewhere else?” You asked.

“Perhaps.” Zemo pondered. “I'm afraid there isn’t much choice.” And just like that, it was laid on the table. That you did not have a choice. Like I ever had one. You didn’t give any thought to your destination, you wouldn’t be surprised if Zemo orchestrated you going up into the air just to see what you would do, as soon as the hatch opened, you could tell where you were.

Wakanda.

Well shit.

“There is no need for distress, No harm will ever come to you here. Wakanda is an ally.” Zemo assured. Zemo, you prepared for, well at least you tried to, but Wakanda, that was a different ball game. A stone, no a boulder, formed in the pit of your stomach. Wakanda, without warning, you made a mental note to thank Maria for that later. To be hand delivered to the country to attempted to destroy just a week ago. To physically see the destruction you had left behind. To be in the place where Victor's life ended. You wanted to pay your last respects, you doubted Maria would tell you where he really was now. You had to save face, you couldn't let anyone think for a moment that you knew who you were. Shuri was walking to greet you with the Dora Milaje on her back, all with faces of stone, you knew they wouldn’t attack without her command, Okeye and Ayo gave you a look that almost sent ice through your veins.

“Wakanda’s youngest warrior!” They smiled for Rebecca, she knew them, knew their names, took their hands in her own. You bowed to Shuri when Zemo did, with something that you hoped looked like confusion on your face, It was the least you could do, you did try to tear her body apart.

“You don’t have to do that.” Reminded Shuri.

“I will always bow to you Shuri.” Zemo answered coolly. Nakia and Ayo whisked Rebecca away but you didn't want to let her out of your sight, you were shocked Zemo let her go so easily. Stretching up to see where she went the Dora Milaje moved closer to Shuri, no doubt to protect her from you, she waved them back.

“Nakia is taking Rebecca for a ride on the rhinoceros.” Zemo droned as if he were bored.

YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER ON RHINOS! “Is that safe?”

“You can have a turn later.” Shuri laughed, somehow you doubted the Rhinos were going to allow you anywhere near them. “How is my newest patient?”

You looked around, patient? You didn’t see anyone who was sick. Bucky said something in Xhosa. Sam’s eyes were flitting between Bucky and Shuri, Zemo stood next to you, but Maria, she was making a conceited effort to look in any other direction but yours. You were the patient. Which was going to cause somewhat of an issue, a whole host of them in fact. “ I’m not sick.” You rushed out.

“You are suffering from severe amnesia.”

Anxiety tickled at your throat. You wanted that amnesia, needed it. Shuri patiently waited but you weren’t budging, you couldn’t let her take a real look at you. Racking your brain to think of any reason why you were happy without a single memory, hoping Maria would come up with something as you kept up with her steps into Shuri's domain. She rounded on you once you had reached her lab, you had not counted on that, you hadn’t counted on being here at all, on being around so many people.

“Sergeant Barnes tells me you have a prosthesis. I built his arm. I would like to gift you a vibranium one.”

“No thankyou.” You quipped. Your leg was fully functional, you did not want anything on you worth millions, you did not want to be part vibranium, you would be a target for a whole host of other reasons. Nor did you comment on the fact that anyone knew you had a metal leg, you kept it covered.

Unfazed, Shuri continued. “May I take a look?”

You moved your foot forward, your covered foot, not only were your shoes in her way, so were your socks, as were your leggings and glanced back at Maria who had ever so slightly strained look on her face, which you knew Zemo would notice, but that was easy to cover, everyone was nervous. Not as much as you were, turning your attention back to Shuri you jumped into the air as if the floor was scalding hot and everyone reacted. Zemo wrapped his arms around you, one of your waist, the other tangled in your hair. Sam body slammed Maria to the floor, Bucky jumped in front of you, reaching out for your hands while simultaneously shielding Shuri.

Scissors.

That’s all it took, scissors in Shuri’s hand and you caught off guard. “Sorry.” You mumbled, uncurling your hands from Zemo’s turtleneck. Shit. That was close, far too close to Zemo for your liking. Zemo’s face was full of concern as you pushed him away. Wanting to move on as fast as you could, you fumbled pulling off your shoe and sock, you put your foot back in front of Shuri and held your hands together in front of you and in full view of everyone. A shiver ran through your body hitting the tile, you were used to soft slippers in a lab.

“Do you know how you got this?” Shuri directed a question at you in between her notes to her AI Griot. You shook your head, technically, you didn’t. You were under when it happened. You watched the micro expressions on her face as she analysed Victor’s work, scientific rivals without her ever knowing.

“May I scan your brain?” Shuri enquired.

“No, thank you.” You answered politely.

“A medical exam?”

“No.” Your tone dropped, all sense of propriety was out of the window. You didn't want her to see, didn’t want anyone to see, what you allowed to happen to your body.

“The medical examination is to ensure you are well, nothing more.” Zemo said gently.

“No.”

“I shall retrieve Rebecca and we will give you a tour of Wakanda. You may need to stay here whilst I am on missions, my pardon will need to be renegotiated.” Zemo moved across the lab nodding to whatever Bucky was saying to him, he stopped when he reached the exit and as only he could, commanded the room, even above Shuri status. Somehow you could tell his words were not directed at her. “You understand the meaning of the word no I presume.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but when his eyes drifted to you, he caught himself before he started to reel off threats. He was standing up for you, getting Rebecca back even when you hadn’t asked him to.

“What do you think of Wakanda?” Sam plopped himself down next to you. Before you could even answer, he continued. “Bucky loves it here, Sarah and the boys too.” There was something off, something amiss, as his eyes darted above your head, you twisted, ready to prevent whatever was coming. Only to be met with a needle in the palm of your hand and the terrified eyes of Maria.

“You’re having that medical exam.”

Staring daggers at her even as the white clouded your vision, you were at least thankful when you heard Shuri scream that she wouldn’t have any part in it. And if Maria couldn't use her lab, then there would be no exam. You wanted to punch Maria square in the nose, while simultaneously telling her to get the fuck out of here before Zemo returned to discover what she had done.

You fucking idiot.

–

Coming too you felt so betrayed, not even being able to trust Maria, but in fairness no one could trust you either. A close eye would be kept on you for all eternity. The horror that another human had seen your decrepit body, that you had been violated again, although with good reason, you understood that Maria would just want to make sure there wasn’t anything that needed to be addressed, you would have lied about any pain anyway. Telling her that Victor healed you wasn’t good enough, she needed solid proof. All of that bothered you, what bothered you more was the object in your waistband, one look from Maria and you knew not to draw attention to it. She placed her hand on your back as a source of comfort, but it just felt too overwhelming after that.

“Can you move your hand please?” You stated as it wasn’t a request. Maria looked full of regret, hurt because it was her and after your week holed up at her place, maybe she thought you had become accustomed to her. You were, but you just needed space, which Maria picked up on because she left the lab.

“According to Griot, you should be in chronic pain.” Shuri began. You could say that, you would be forever, checking in with your gut wanting so desperately to feel that soft white flutter again. There was no more white, just a pale grey, constant pain, nothing would ever go back to the way it was before. You swung your legs trying to rid yourself of the anxiety, not knowing how to answer that, feeling humiliated that Shuri had seen what had happened to your body. Shuri showed you a minuscule metal disc and waited for you to nod before she placed it just behind the knee of your mechanical leg. Once it made contact, your dull silver leg was transformed into flesh, with matching nail varnish that Maria had obviously painted your fingernails in. A flawless leg, no scars, a facade, just like the one you had to keep painted on your face forever. Next she offered you coloured contacts, wanting to please her you popped them in, so she could see that nothing could mask the darkness within. A pleased smile formed on her face and your face appeared on her screen, the hollow abyss of your eyes gone, the colour had flooded back in, a disguise, an illusion to hide the monstrosity within. They were as ashamed as you were, trying to hide what you really were.

“I can offer you physical therapy, psychotherapy, You are going to refuse it all aren't you?” She asked with a tone that was rhetorical. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Shuri had shielded Rebecca from Hydra, tested her to make sure she wasn’t enhanced, saved her when she was born premature, all knowing Zemo killed her father. What more could you ask of her? “Zemo is in a holding cell, he is…” Ready to kill everyone in a five mile radius? Yeah i’m used to it. “Griot performed the examination.” Frowning at her, that would mean no one saw, she stopped Maria. Shuri treated Bucky with the utmost sensitivity when he was here, no surgery or deprogramming happened without his consent, Shuri was extending that same courtesy to you, despite everything you did to her. On your way to Zemo, you stopped to go to the bathroom, you didn't have to wait long until Maria found you.

“You need to get out of here,” You urged, Maria wanted to protest. “Maria, you forced that exam on me and Zemo-” You sighed. “This is hard enough without wondering exactly when he will put a bullet between your eyes. You need to go, I’ll see you soon.”

“Text me.” She pleaded. That was the object in your waistband, a phone to contact her, so you wouldn’t be alone, she couldn’t risk it before, but here, Zemo wasn’t in control, Shuri was. Even though he was far more regal, Shuri never cared for any throne, hence why she handed it to M’Baku. Splashing cold water on your face, you joined Shuri, murmuring pleasantries when Maria feigned an emergency and departed. Zemo was being held in a cell with far more comfort than any other prison afforded, Ayo keeping guard at the door, with a loud tut when Shuri opened the door with her Kimoyo beads.

“Are you alright?” Zemo pressed, you nodded avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see the fire in his eyes. You didn't want to be on the receiving end of his fury ever again.

“Perfect health.” Shuri interrupted handing him a tablet, which gave a very vague picture of your health as it was today, carefully excluding any details on past injuries.

“There has been a mistake.” Zemo huffed. Shuri shook her head, pulling Ayo away. You knew what he saw. The encryption that both you and Maria set up, just in case you were ever put under rigorous testing again, and one of the many reasons she made sure she was around if it ever happened. To hack into Wakanda, one had to physically be in Wakanda, and the blood work and DNA tests had to be tampered with and in this specific case, altered to say that you were not enhanced. You would let everyone believe that Victor took your pain and power, despite only a ring of colour remaining in your eyes, but you reasoned if Bucky’s super soldier serum was ever reversed, he would still have a abnormally strong metal arm, a remnant of what he used to be, just like your eyes. You and Maria both ensured that if your existence was ever discovered by Hydra or otherwise, the only thing they would find was a regular human, of no use to anyone. Zemo’s eyebrows pulled together, it would take time to process this information, you were no longer enhanced, no longer a threat to anyone, and as far as anyone else knew, no longer a weapon and you wouldn’t use your powers no matter the cost. A ruse, so you live without your powers, knowing that if anyone ever came for Rebecca, you could protect her.

“Have I done something to offend you? You can’t even bring yourself to look at me.”

“No.” Yes.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?” Zemo purred, as you looked up at him he made a show of looking around, to let you know that no one would hear you, this was just you and him. His gaze was appraising, calculating, you could see he didn’t believe a single word of that report and in turn he didn't believe you, he knew, or at the very least suspected. You shook your head slowly. “You are quite sure?” He continued. You wondered if that was what he wanted, for you to tell him the truth, just him. To say you knew exactly who you were, that you remembered every last moment, that Rebecca was your daughter and despite knowing he would keep your secret, knowing that he wouldn't tell another soul, something told you not to. “Could you divulge the reason you are so frightened of me?” Shit. You thought you were doing a good job of hiding that, you knew that if Zemo interrogated you long enough, you would slip up, you had fallen for this in other worlds.

“I don’t know what you want.” You blurted out.

“I have no expectations of you.”

–

No expectations? Not one? Lies, more lies, you weren’t buying it, you spent the rest of the day in a daze, touring Wakanda with Rebecca showing you around, she clearly had been here many times before, she animatedly told you that she had a real Princess as an aunt. She called everyone aunt and uncle, you were told that Rebecca was cherished and always has been, everyone was so good with her, you barely noticed when Zemo was handed a box which you knew contained your necklace and wedding ring. Ignored the buzzing in your body when Okeye asked Shuri how you escaped from Wakanda undetected. You didn’t clock the bags of clothes handed to Zemo meant for you as you came here with nothing more than the clothes on your back. You chewed the inside of your cheek as Zemo treated you with a softness that you knew all too well, but he couldn't quite manage it, there was something underlying. The fucking massive lie I told. Ah yes that was it, you kept glancing at him and he just met your eyes with fondness. You only really snapped back into focus when Rebecca dropped her new and bigger Rhino teddy on the flight back in a Wakandan Talon fighter, it took everything you had to fight your instincts and not catch it. You had to show externally that you were just a boring human, like the other eight billion people on the planet. Bucky, bumped into you catching it himself.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, reaching out to you so you would actually look at him. “I’m so sorry.” He looked so serious, as if he were trying to apologise for it all and the first words he spoke to you directly.

“It’s fine.” it was not even close to fine, you wanted off this jet, you wanted space to move around, to not be stuck in an enclosed space with Zemo, Bucky and Ayo, who was as silent as the grave. She remained that way, through dinner which was a stew of some kind. You hadn’t eaten all day, not that it was a new feeling to you. Just an old one from your childhood you would rather forget. Rebecca smiled throughout clutching her new Rhino but promising Bucky that the white wolf was still the best in a whisper that everyone could hear. Bucky left with Ayo after rather loudly and forcibly telling Zemo in Russain not to fuck this up. This was it, high alert. This was your life now, this house, Prison. Here forever, with Rebecca and with him. Rebecca climbed up onto the kitchen counter as Zemo loaded the dishwasher, you tried to help but were told no and in that one word it was clear Zemo wasn't ever going to allow to lift a finger, the house was in slight disarray a clear sign that Oeznik wasn’t here. So you lingered back awkwardly, you watched Rebecca ruffle Zemo’s hair as he bent over, heart singing as how precious she was, he didn’t correct it, he carried on rinsing plates, You were entranced by their interaction until Rebecca pulled him close and ran her fingers through his hair trying to correct her mess, she closed her eyes and rubbed her nose against his. Zemo was her favourite, it was a very subtle difference but you saw it, their bond was unspoken, she adored him, she utterly adored him.

You listened with utter loathing for yourself as Zemo read Rebecca a bedtime story, how she clearly loved his voice as much as you did, the voice that could send you to your knees. Perhaps it was time to scan your brain, to understand why it was doing this to you, why it once again was actively working against you as you tried to survive, as you had to play house in the ruins of your relationship, among the ghosts of what you once had. To live and pretend as if Zemo were healing you, like he wasn’t the one that broke you in the first place. You didn't ever want to feel that kind of pain from him again, it also meant you wouldn't feel his love. Then you hated yourself for even thinking that. Reminding your useless brain that you had to stay on your toes, you hurried to your assigned bedroom before he finished. As much as you wanted to avoid the bed you used to share, it looked like this was your room now and as Rebecca was about to sleep you had to avoid spending any time with Zemo alone at all, attempt to make sure you were as far from him as you could be, find a suitable place to hide the phone Maria gave you, under the probable watch of the cameras. You jumped at a knock on the door.

“I’m going to sleep.” You called out, lying again. You doubted you would ever rest peacefully again, wondering if you could haul the dresser in front of the door, like that would stop him.

“It’s rather early. Are you alright?”

No, I am not fucking alright. “Long day.” You tried.

“Goodnight Sunshine.”

Fuck off Zemo. Yet, he didn’t, he lurked outside of you room. Was he going to burst in? Confront you? Or worse? Heart in your throat, you jerked at the buzzing of the device in your waistband. Wrestling under the covers, which at least sounded like you were going to sleep, you concealed the light from the phone as much as you could, replying to Maria.

Everything is perfect

That would be the same answer you would give Maria no matter what happened, no matter what she said, what she asked, today it was are you ok? And everything was going as well as it could be. You resumed staring at the door as Zemo stood guard outside of your bedroom, he would walk away eventually, right?

–

Sleep was against your natural instincts, tossing, turning, laying under the bed, draping the cloak over you, it evaded you. Zemo didn’t leave his station until three in the morning and even after your heart calmed down, sleep still wouldn’t come. Those hours without Rebecca to distract you, the earth would rotate, Rebecca would sleep and you were stuck. Would it be selfish to wake her up just so you could be with her? After breakfast in which you were firmly told no again when you asked to help, Rebecca showed you beetlejuice, which seemed a bit too mature for a three year old, but beetlejuice was the best according to her.

“Rebecca’s fascination for the macabre is endless. Macabre? Creepy things? Like big mishappen castles? An interest shouldn't have you analysing her and yet, she delighted in beetlejuice, someone who caused mischief, a trickster, she would love Loki, if she ever got to meet him. if she liked beetlejuice then it was pretty easy to ascertain the type of people she would like the most, apart from Bucky and Zemo. And that did send some alarm bells ringing, but she spent most her time with them. You told your mind to shut the fuck up before you dug further into that hole, you hadn’t spent enough time with her, she likes rhinos and wolfs too and that was fine. She relented into having her hair brushed after lunch, which Zemo created a dutch braid, against her squirming, bouncing up and down, she then declared she wanted you to match. You picked up the brush and handed it to Zemo, for a split second something akin to nervousness fluttered across his face. As if he were actually opposed to touching you, not a likely story.

“Whatever Rebecca wants.” You met Zemo’s eyes in the mirror of Rebecca’s dresser, trying to convey that this is how it was going to go. Whatever Rebecca wants she gets and she was going to get it because he didn't allow you anything you ever wanted, if that meant Zemo had to brush your hair with a tenderness you didn’t think was possible, then you could face it. Rebecca’s feet wobbled on your thighs as she inspected Zemo’s work, all you got was a face full of her shirt and Zemo’s gentle hands through your hair, Rebecca then fetched you a ribbon to match hers. Red?

“Red is my favourite.” As if she too could read your mind, she answered your question. And you really had to tell the alarm bells to cut it out on that one. The afternoon was spent watching Rebecca chase a butterfly, she was endlessly fascinated by something so simple, Zemo’s probing gaze moved from Rebecca to you and it all felt like a bit too much. She was just so happy to breathe air. Air that Victor gave her. Every playful giggle, every step, every molecule that filled her lungs, was possible because Victor saved her life. Every sparkle in Zemo’s eyes for her, was possible because Victor gave him Rebecca. In the bath where she poured in far too much bubble bath, where she scooped the bubbles and placed them on Zemo’s head, where she laughed far more than she washed, where she dunked her head under the water and squealed as she emerged. Every millisecond was pure bliss to her, she glowed brighter than the sun. The joy on her face was all because Victor saved her. And as Zemo looked at you inquisitively for the millionth time you wanted to cry, you wanted to rejoice, you wanted to strip yourself of the guilt, you wanted to know every detail about her, you wanted to thank Victor, you wanted all of it and fucking hell you wanted to sleep, you were exhausted and yet to find a safe way to rest, and as you were technically human, it was rapidly becoming a problem. Zemo’s voice almost sent you to sleep as you lurked outside Rebecca’s bedroom, this time singing her a nursery rhyme in a sinister voice, but then that’s how she liked it. Going through the same ridiculous steps in an attempt to sleep you emerged as Zemo left his post outside your room.

Rebecca loved her bath, you once liked baths, you slept in baths, you might just get some peace, even if it was a few minutes. Plunging into the scalding milky water, you went over the day, you wondered how all of this was possible, how Rebecca was so happy in the face of the literal murderers that surrounded her, how oblivious she was to it all, just as you once were, how the hell were you supposed to tell a three year old to not be so naive, how you were able to do something as simple as having a bath, how it had been years since you had and they weren't unhappy years. How everyday was going to be spent with you hiding in your room dreaming of sleep you would never get. How Zemo used to send you straight to sleep in here, how warm it was, how easy it would be to just close your eyes. But then you wouldn’t see the bubbles escaping to the surface, where the air was.

Air tore into your lungs as you were ripped from the water. Spluttering against the sudden change, spitting water out of your mouth, chest heaving in an involuntary reflex. Dread filled your bones, feeling that tight grip on your hair, hearing the panting just inches away from your face. This would definitely count as you hurting yourself, but you were just so tired. You knew you would feel his wrath, you knew this would happen you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, trying to cower to sink down so he couldn’t see even a slither of your mangled body you were only met with more force yanking you above the water line.

“Get out.” Zemo growled.

“I feel asleep.” You winced, turning to meet Zemo’s dark eyes and instead were met with his hand covering them, moving that hand to slam into the side of the bathtub you jumped. It felt as if he hit you, hit you with the truth, that you were a liar and he knew it. On the brink of tears you pulled yourself up and Zemo released his grip on your hair, scrambling across to wrap Zemo’s towel around you, which thankfully was much bigger than Maria’s, you ran as fast as you could for your room. In your haste to get away from Zemo in a naked state you didn't grab your clothes, thrusting your trembling hand into one of the bags from Wakanda, to find something anything, any kind of barrier to put on your body, you floundered when Zemo entered your bedroom, you rushed to the ensuite but were stopped dead in your tracks.

“If you go in there, you won’t have a door by morning.” Zemo warned. Pressing your lips together and blinking rapidly, you clutched onto the bag with one hand awkwardly out of the towel, you could not let him near you, eyes wide as saucers conveying the fear coursing through you.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke in a voice much quieter than you wanted.

“Follow me.”

Fuck, fuck , fuck. Yet your body moved, you wondered how he could make you do this, how he was still able to make you do as you were told, keeping as much of a vice grip on the towel as you could, you kept a wide distance between you as you followed him down the stairs, eyes flicking in every direction, looking for something, anything, but then you knew better than to attempt to fight him, maybe if you just obeyed him, he would just understand that you really were just exhausted. When he reached for a door you had never seen opened in the past, words, stupid words fell from your mouth. “I don’t want to go down there.”

Zemo slowly pulled his hand away from the door handle, putting his hand in his pockets with an air of confidence only he could muster, he turned his full attention to you with a malicious smile on his face, lowering his tone to almost a whisper. “What is it about this property that makes you believe it has a basement?”

Shit, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! You gaped like a fish as his harsh gaze honed in on you, touching every inner corner of your soul.

“Are you frightened of basements?” Zemo taunted. Shaking your head dumbly. “No? Then you will not have any trouble opening this door, unless of course you have a compelling reason not to.”

You had a compelling reason alright, you bore the scars from it, but to show that, to not open this fucking door. You could run, which your entire body was screaming to do, he would know. Yet if you opened it, then you might just die on the spot and being in this position with Zemo, you would rather die. Stomach cramping as you attempted a convincing walk closer to him, closer and closer to certain torture and death, you back tensed, trying to pull you back, your hand clamped to towel closer to your deformed body. Reaching out, you gave him one last look and apart from that sickeningly knowing smile, you couldn't tell what he was thinking. Ripping off the band aid, you yanked the door open with bated breath. Blankets. A storage cupboard, full of blankets. How you wished the tension left your body, you felt a cold chill all over, outwardly shivering for some time now, you tried to feel some warmth as Zemo carefully draped a blanket over your shoulders, but the cold wouldn’t leave, so much so you realised it was coming from a small slit between the shelving.

“Is there something behind that?” You fretted.

“Yes.” Zemo answered with one word. Holy fuck. Your instincts were right, this door led to something. Even you felt it as your face changed, instinctively you stepped back, a whimper got stuck in your throat. “The inspiration for this property came from the Cecil Hotel.”

Am I supposed to know what that is? Laughing nervously you padded along to a room you were a lot less anxious to be in the kitchen, sitting as far from Zemo as you could. Zemo placed his phone in front of you with an article about the Cecil Hotel. A murder house, this house, your supposed home was a murder house. Traps, secret doors, hallways, the whole shebang.

“Quite fitting that it came into my possession, don’t you think?” Zemo chuckled. What were you supposed to say to that, how did nobody know what this house was, well Bucky probably did, probably knew every way to your room, they both did. You would never sleep again, Zemo was a serial killer, you were living with a man laughing about killing people, your husband, The man with a proud smile on his face, brought a murder house to imprison you as if it were not remotely disconcerting. When he slid a honey coloured tea in front of you, you almost dry heaved. You couldn't drink that, fuck, everything was a threat, all of it, every fucking object had a purpose, you were fucked.

“If I was going to drug you, I wouldn’t be so covert.” Zemo stated and you couldn't help it you stared at him horrified. “Threatening you is futile, you understand what you are up against don’t you?”

Nodding blindly, you knew what you were up against, the fucking devil. He was being so brazen too, he wanted you to know, exactly where you were trapped, exactly who he was, that there wasn't any hope. Still that stupid voice of yours attempted to defend yourself. “ I haven't done anything wrong.”

“You just attempted to drown yourself in the bathtub.”

“I didn’t,” grimacing at the rise of Zemo’s eyebrows. “ I just, I-” You paused trying to reason with the unreasonable feeling as if you couldn't breathe, “Have you ever wanted your mind to just stop, just for a minute?” You tried, staring into the tea as more beats passed, each moment the tension in your body increased, gripping onto your towel just so the trembling wouldn't be so visible, you waited for Zemo to explode.

“Yes.”

–

Zemo answered, there was something in his voice, more that he wanted to say, that he understood your dilemma, understood that you were trying and not getting anywhere. The tension pulling your muscles taut relaxed slightly, you both sat in silence until Rebecca woke, both not sleeping, both unable to say anymore, not without revealing the truth of the situation. You would sleep eventually, you were sure you nodded off a few times. When Zemo brushed your hair to match Rebecca's, you jumped out of your skin with nearly every stroke, your body was on edge, seemingly unable to understand how your birthday had passed without more scars, your mind running a thousand miles a minutes and you just deliriously tired, not really able to focus or concentrate on anything. Every time you made yourself a coffee, it got poured away. It had only been a few days and it felt like forever because you had to stay alert constantly, gauge Zemo’s reaction to everything, remain expressionless even when you were screaming internally. You tried to wash the dishes just to do something, you had spent years being useful and now you were just in the way. Zemo even handed you a phone, pre-programmed with everyone's numbers and encouraged you to communicate with everyone, you sent off a few meaningless texts, you knew damn well he could see everything on this phone. While every action was monitored, scratching a permanent line into the palm of your hand, because it was the only way you could openly display your nervousness.

“Stop scratching!” Zemo snapped. You don't know what came over you, was it the fatigue? The pressure of it all?

“Yes, your highness.” You curtsied to him before your brain could even catch up to what you were doing, Rebecca giggled and it was only in that moment you realised what you had done. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Dad isn’t a King.”

“No, no,” You rushed out. “But he is Royalty just like you.” Rebecca’s little eyebrows furrowed so you knelt in front of her to explain. “Your Royal, I don’t know the right title,” That daze in your mind wasn't helping, “Sokovia is gone, I don’t know how it works, maybe dad is the King now.” What the fuck am I even saying? Glancing back to Zemo hoping he could explain this better you immediately realised you had made a horrible mistake, gulping in horror at what you had just said.

“I’m a princess?” Rebecca said excitedly. Your stomach dropped through the floor at her next statement, which she declared with the ring of a herald. “We live in a castle? Castle Zemo?”

“Or Rebecca’s palace.” You struggled.

“It’s a castle.” Rebecca squealed, jumping up and down. “I’m a princess.”

You didn’t stand, Zemo didn’t tell her, probably part of that modest life he had built for her, no Royalty, no staff, no titles, no nothing and you just fucked it up completely. How could you fuck up this badly? “The line of succession is complicated, Rebecca.” Zemo hummed in amusement, it was as if he were talking to you and not your precious daughter. “Our home can be whatever you would like it to be, even a castle.”

–

Zemo cooked dinner and explained that he intended to give up his title as Sokovia was gone, he left out how that happened. Rebecca refused purely on the grounds that she wouldn't be a princess, Zemo assured her that she would always be a princess here at home. He tried to explain how restrictive Royalty really was, as if this house wasn’t. But she had no idea, her life was perfect, every moment was a joy. Zemo was her hero and nothing would ever deter that. You sat sadly, full of so many regrets as he served pasta a meal you noticed that would only require a fork and as he opened the drawer to set the table you suspected every meal would be similar considering every knife had vanished into thin air. He poured himself a whisky which seemed odd with pasta.

“I drink whisky exclusively with every meal.” He said with an air of nostalgia. “Would you like a glass?”

“I don’t like whisky.” You lied, rejecting it and him. Zemo nodded and a glass of wine appeared next to your plate, you watched Rebecca tuck in quickly, taking big slurps of her water, dancing in her chair at her new found Royal status.

“Could you pass me the salt please?” Zemo asked, which seemed odd, he never used to add salt to his meals, the shaker was also right between you. You wondered if he was making an offer to not reach out to you, so you would stop flinching, you slid it over to him without picking it up and smashing the container into his face which you thought was a miracle and yet a look passed his face, something he just understood. You passed it to him in the same way you passed him the glass all those years ago. He could make you obey so easily, that was his superpower, that and being world's number one dickhead, you really did not have the mental capacity to argue over passing salt he could think whatever he wanted to. Zemo took a few bites then seemed to wait for you, you watched him make this, sure he could have slipped something into it, but he was eating it, Rebecca was, you took a forkful, lids heavy almost swaying at how tired you were, but you couldn’t let your guard down. Lifting the wine glass to your lips, noticing that Zemo was staring at you intently. Pausing you wanted to see if he reacted, if he attempted to look as if he wasn’t watching and right on cue, he smiled at Rebecca. Placing the glass back onto the coaster you tried to remember through the fog of your exhaustion if you watched him pour the wine. I didn’t. Would he really drug you in front of Rebecca, let your head flop down into your plate and play it off, in front of her. Were there really any limits? Did he have no shame? Where did he get the nerve? You put one hand in the other and rested your chin on them waiting for them both to finish, you weren’t touching another morsel.

After dinner in the study you berated yourself for passing him the salt, because now he was going to read into it. Would delve into every action as if you didn’t have to monitor every second as it was, only now you were with something doing the same, naturally talented at reading body language and being able to read your mind. And you had to remain outwardly calm, had to smile even though the screaming in your mind was getting louder, probably begging for sleep which you really did need to succumb to. Only now you were going to need to closely watch every meal, every drink, every last thing Zemo tried to give to you, as if he couldn’t just jab you with a needle and bypass all that, he didn’t seem to be above explaining you dropping the ground to Rebecca. As if you weren’t self depreciating enough, a lifetime of abuse does that to you. You slipped about the Royalty thing, thankfully Sam showed you those articles on the quinjet mentioning it, maybe you could take a vow of silence at least then you couldn’t make another mistake, there had been too many already and sooner or later you were going to say something there was no possible way you could know about.

Listening to their giggles as Zemo tried to get Rebecca settled for bed you wondered if there really was anything he wasn't naturally adept at. He was an incredible parent, made Rebecca smile, filled all of her needs all while keeping her safe. You didn't want to come back here as her parent but you were less than useless, you may as well be another child, you had as many needs as she did, probably more and Zemo was right there trying to make sure you were happy. Happy wasn’t an option you left that behind, did you leave it in Castle Doom? In the rubble of Wakanda?

It was easy to forget that Zemo missed all of this with Carl and he got to see every moment here, while you were the one who was ‘away’. Watching the flames flicker, you desperately wished you were back in the castle or that Victor was here, he would help you navigate this, in a world with Zemo, having watched him kill you in so many other worlds. How now you could only recognise manipulation because Victor taught you to, it’s how you saw Victor's, although you weren't sure if that is ever what he did. How he cared for you, but then was it his love for power? His love for Valeria? Was Victor your soulmate?

You killed your soulmate.

Victor was gone.

You were so focused on getting back here that it hadn’t really settled in. You were here right now with your daughter because you murdered the man who saved you, who saved your daughter. He couldn't come back, you snuffed his life out and it was so selfish only to want him back so he could help you work out how to live this way. Your heart ached every time he creeped into your mind, every time you turned to look at him only to find someone else's face looking back at you. You could be in Castle Doom right now watching Victor tinker with his machines, but you decided that this was the better option. Another choice, made carelessly without thinking of the consequences. What did you even learn from Victor? That you would always be desired but not loved? That you were a weapon? That you would live in fear no matter where you went? That pain was the very essence of what you were. You chose the endless pit of despair.

Could the world be a better place now if you let Victor take your power? You would never know. And you understood why Zemo hated it so much, no consequences for destroying a city. It was just so wrong, not that you could argue. You fell into that category too. Your life has always been counting down, the countdown of time on your birthday, countdown to your death while you were pregnant, countdown with Victor, countdown back to this house, now you wondered what you were counting down to. Probably the day Hydra inevitably found you.

Rebecca was perfect, utterly perfect, she was the light in Zemo’s life now and you were damaged, you hated yourself for feeling jealous, hated yourself for even wanting Zemo to see you as he used to. How you wished to be loved just for who you were, not what you could offer, and what could you offer now? Pain?

Lurching as if being woken, though you doubted you slept, you clung onto the weight in your lap and resting on your chest, Rebecca, snoring gently against you. You had been sitting here for hours, it was already the early hours of the morning. Head pulling to the tissue held out in front of you, tears had escaped, you couldn't conscientiously allow them to fall, apologising to Zemo again you made your way to Rebecca's room, she had missed her bedtime story, you robbed her of something she enjoyed, as if you weren't enough of a shit human. Failing to dodge Zemo as you scurried to your room, you sighed when he spoke.

“If you will allow me to, I can help you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sunshine, please-”

Just hearing that nickname set you off. “What could I possibly need from you?” You lashed out with such vitriol it stung even you, you adjusted your tone to something more soft. “You have taken me in, let me live in this beautiful home. Everything is perfect. Goodnight Zemo.” You wanted to slam the door, you did, but waking Rebecca was the last thing you needed. If everyday was like this, then you needed to manage your expectations, as if the constant feeling of animosity wasn't enough, now you had to survive on no sleep, no sustenance, with Zemo who was being more kind than he had ever been. You walked over to your new phone vibrating on your bed, no guesses for how that got there.

Zemo is increasingly concerned for you, is there anything I can do for you?

Shuri, Great. You were going to get guilt texts too. You had to try to make this better, had to reciprocate Zemo’s kindness at arms length then maybe you would be permitted to make your own meals. Let him believe you were opening up, that was Victor’s mistake, he let his guard down and ultimately that's how you were able to find a way to kill him. Reluctantly pulling your bedroom door open to find that Zemo hadn’t moved, you managed to repress a shriek at how close he was. You knew he would be there and yet, that immediate fear induced response, something needed to be done. Sighing you spoke. “Can you teach me to drive?”

“Would you like to begin now?”

Alone? With you? Holding up the phone to show the time. “I’m tired.” You croaked, so very tired, so much so that after closing the door, you even sat on the bed, perhaps just taking the weight off your feet would re-energize you, even if you couldn’t rest.

–

Being forcefully shaken you lashed out, kicking and hitting at whatever it was that was bruising your upper arms. You had no idea what you were shouting, you couldn't comprehend anything through the darkness, couldn’t differentiate between the images in your mind and the repulsion of hands on you. Fighting against the blanket tangled in your legs, straining your eyes.

“Sunshine, you were screaming.” Zemo’s voice sounded hoarse, manoeuvring yourself to sit up, pushing his hands off in disgust, you knew why you were screaming. Without Victor’s magic the nightmares returned only now you were the villain, blind in your fury, crushing everything in your path, relentless in your pursuit to kill everyone that had ever wronged you. Through your panting Zemo perched himself on your bed, finally noticing he was only wearing his robe, a new fear overcame you. You were sleeping and Zemo was conveniently with you, while you were screaming.

“Don’t touch me!” You scrambled away from his outreached hand, rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. Blindly panicking, blinking through your glassy eyes you armed yourself with a bottle of shampoo, if only Victor could see you now, he trained you for years, only for you to run and hide in a room with one exit, you really were just that hopeless. You ran away from Zemo, you finally ran, only to trap yourself further. Trembling, you waited for Zemo to break the door down.

–

You woke on the cold tiles with a shampoo bottle still firmly in your grip. Skipping breakfast in favour of a shower, scrubbing off any violation that may have happened. You faked nervousness learning to drive, sitting this close to Zemo aided that, following his very basic instructions as Rebecca sat on his lap, you were surprised to get a text from Maria on the phone Zemo gave you, asking if you were free for a drink later. Testing the waters you said you would meet her later and suspiciously Zemo didn’t immediately lock you in a cage or in the basement. As a casserole simmered you asked to help with the housework just for something to do. He told you he was often singled out for grunt work in the military and you weren't expected to do anything, but that wasn’t the problem. You fiddled with the hem of your t-shirt constantly as a substitute for scratching your hand, you were on edge, feeling useless, wandering around this house, with a mind that got louder and louder by the second. A drink with Maria might do you some good, maybe you could sleep in her car before you returned, tell her about the murder house. You wandered to your bedroom to get ready. Not that there was anything to get ready with, or that you even wanted to. Victor took you as you came, you even went clubbing him in nothing more than leggings and a baggy t-shirt, you doubted Maria was taking you out clubbing. Alcohol loosens inhibitions and you couldn't do that ever again, the only person who you could trust to keep a lid on your powers was Victor. Shamefully lusting after coffee Zemo forbade you from, you headed to the kitchen taking a small sip of tap water just to keep you going, it was the safest option, you didn’t know if Zemo had tampered with any other liquids in the house.

“Where do you think you are going?” Zemo challenged.

“To see Maria?” You said as innocently as you could. That cunning smile of his seeped through as he pulled his phone from his pocket and the distinct sound of tyres over gravel travelled to your ears. You can control the cars remotely. You could diminish the fear from that information, because he had just shown his hand, the cars couldn't be trusted either. “I’ll walk.” You shrugged, ignoring that it would take hours to get to New York, you assumed Maria would be meeting you at the boundary of the house anyway.

“Ill restrain you.” Zemo said with just a touch of shame behind his voice. Which confused you, he was openly telling you what he would do. You knew he would threaten you, it was just hearing him be so blase about it, so honest, was unnerving. Turning to face him, his lips were set into a downward turn, he gestured for you to sit down. You slumped down like a petulant child, you mustered up courage, imagined Victor was with you, hearing his voice in your ear telling you to ask, ask one of the many questions that burned inside you, swirling your finger in the air.

You want to go there, ok I’ll go there. “Is this a prison?”

No hesitation Zemo answered. “Yes.”

“I’m assuming there is a compelling reason for that?” Throwing his words right back at him. That your fucking psychotic? Pulling the phone Zemo gave you out of your pocket, you called Maria and the moment she answered you put her on loudspeaker, in an ill attempt to back Zemo into a corner, ready to tell her that Zemo was keeping you in a prison he got the first word.

“Maria, I have reservations about this outing.” Zemo professed.

“I won’t let her out of my sight, it will be good for her to get out of the house Zemo, you can't keep her there forever.”

“Maria, if you recall you signed the paperwork that states legally that I am solely responsible for Sunshine.” Zemo briefly looked at you with not a shred of fault. “In short I own you.”

You didn’t learn a thing from Victor you sick fuck, I am not your property. Zemo’s head jerked as if he heard you, Maria quickly said she was on her way over to talk about this in person.

“You will not be granted entry.” Zemo said flatly and ended the call. “If you attempt to flee, I will do whatever is necessary to stop you.” Zemo mumbled, he actually mumbled you had never heard him do such a thing. As if he didn’t just directly threaten you.

“Why are you keeping me here?” You asked, knowing he couldn't give you the real reason, but he had to give you something, surely.

“As you know Sunshine, I am not a good man. I have imprisoned you here simply because I want to and I have been in the fortunate position of always getting what I want.”

Not this time. Fuming that he would always have an answer to anything. You heard enough, it was a reason, not a good one, but it was hard to argue with, not without provoking him further. There was no point in begging, no point in trying, you were stuck here and you already knew that. That and you had to text Maria from your other phone as you wouldn't be surprised if she was ordering a nuclear strike, just to get you out. You stood abruptly only to fall back when Zemo moved just as fast blocking the doorway, one hand gripping onto the frame.

“Don’t force my hand, please.” Zemo’s head hung low, keeping a respectable gap. “Please Sunshine.”

“I’m going to bed.” You said meekly, willing to take any small mercy you could get. The battle was lost and if you were honest leaving this place would be a risk, Hydra might find you. Zemo nodded still looking at the floor and removed his hand from the frame, you blew out air between your lips hoping to rid yourself of the goosebumps as you slinked past him. You walked slowly up to your room, this time Zemo didn’t follow you to take his nightly station. Hiding under the covers to text Maria, you told her you were fine. She didn’t message back, there was nothing more to say. You had both resigned yourselves to the fact that you would be stuck here a long time ago.

–

The shower was the closest thing to your coffin that you slept in for years, and you tried, shifting your weight on your metal leg. You drifted off at least once that you knew off, the door opened and now you had fresh bruises, which was just great. It took a lot of convincing Zemo that you were fine in clipped whispers through your bedroom door. And you started your period, seeing blood in your underwear set off a whole load of emotions, you just could not deal with. You had been banned from using the bathtub but that didn’t stop you rummaging around while Rebecca got dressed, nothing in your bathroom. You knew there were products in your old bedroom but Zemo slept there now and you weren't going in there come hell or high water. Nor were you opening any new doors, you had no idea where they led to. Were you really going to need to resort to tissue? Well you may as well camp in your room all day, it didn’t feel as if you were doing anything worthwhile otherwise. You jumped when someone had sneaked up on you. Zemo was close, too close, scuffling back, head darting as you were once again trapped in a small room with him, unable to move your gaze from his eyes, he moved the box of tampons in front of his face. Laughing nervously you thanked him and apologised at the same time. As always Zemo could tell what you needed even without seeing you, you hated how he still knew you, hated that everyone was right about you, that everyone knew you better than you knew yourself. Listening to Zemo read Rebecca a story before bed you wondered if you could just sleep in there with her. Zemo wouldn’t hurt you if you were with her. You would wake her up with your screaming, how could you explain that? Once again you rushed off to bed, only to hear a knock as soon as you closed the door.

“I’m tired.” You called out. You turned as the door opened, Zemo didn't seem angry, he seemed impatient, annoyed, probably with your constant lies.

“I have been called away on a mission, I will be leaving tomorrow. Scott and Hope will be coming to stay.” Squirming internally, they were in Wakanda. Did Zemo not trust you with Rebecca? Not that it mattered, neither did you. You held yourself back, afraid you would hurt her, terrified your black soul would corrupt her, scared you would reveal more information that she did not need to be made aware of. You nodded and as soon as Zemo inclined his head, you knew there was more, that something was wrong, that you had pissed him off somehow. When he stepped forward your body mirrored him immediately, retreating, knowing that no matter how much training you had, in the constant tug of war he would always win.

“The response to fear is involuntary, it is biologically programmed.” Zemo slid his hand down your arm to gently cradle your wrist, gasping you clamped your mouth shut. “You are terrified of me and this-” he stroked his thumb over the pulse point of your wrist, feeling the hammering of your heart. “You cannot hide.” Turning to look at the floor to hide away, you tried to breathe through your nose, to quell the rising panic, you saw the two small pills in his other hand. Shit. Shit. Shit. Zemo did say if he were going to drug you that you would know, shaking your head. You had no idea what those tablets did, you didn’t want them, you didn’t want to be forced. “I think you know what will happen if you do not take these willingly.” Yes, you knew, that fucker knew that you knew, they would be forced down your throat. You wanted to spit in his face, scream that Heike would never have put up with this, that no one would. That you hated him. That you couldn’t believe you ever loved him. That you wanted a divorce. He took everything from you and he still wanted more. If Zemo got any closer you were sure your chest would burst open, you held your shaking hand open. You had no idea how you swallowed them, they ripped down your dry throat. Zemo gripped your wrist tighter, your body knew now, to never ever fight him, the only option was flight, to get away. You moved back again, trying to create space in between you only for your back to be met with a brick wall, but this wasn’t a brick wall, this wall spoke.

“If you cower from him now, this would have all been for nothing.”

Victor?

Heart thundering at the possibility that Victor was back, feeling that wall move from behind you, metal clinking with each movement, to see Victor by your side. Exhaling with relief, because as long as Victor was with you, Zemo couldn't hurt you.

“The next time you touch her, you won’t have hands.” Victor promised. Confidence surging through you, you yanked your hand away and Zemo let it go. You stared into his eyes, a smirk wanting to form on your lips. Zemo’s eyes flashed but you didn’t care Victor was here, he wouldn’t let Zemo do a single thing to you. And that was proven when Zemo retreated.

“Come here Sweetheart.” Victor was sitting at the head of your bed with open arms, you climbed up, resting your head on his metal thigh, feeling drowsy. Sleeping tablets. Victor used the sheets to wipe away tears that weren't there, you could never let them fall. “Your death would have been a mercy. There would be no more pain. You would have been free.”

Next Part: https://www.tumblr.com/zemossunshine/713484377776144384/sunshine-chapter-46?source=share

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #helmut zemo #baron zemo #dr doom #dark!zemo #dark zemo #dark

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todorokis-girl · 4 months

Text

Masterlist

Request are OPEN

My Rules

Writing Plan

My Hero Academia

I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (Dabi)

Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter Chapter VI: Deciding to fall in love with you

Weird things I write:

Bakugou and Y/N getting together

One shots:

Shattered Boundaries- (Midoriya x Reader - Hurt)

Let's talk about the Caffeine addiction - (Kirishima x reader - Comfort)

Requests:

No feelings of Loss (Dabi - hurt/comfort fluff)

Ashes (Dabi - Angst/Fluff)

Shinso, Hawks and Dabi with an oblivious reader (Fluff)

A Cozy Afternoon for a busy hero (Hawks - Fluff)

Hidden Sparks (power loader, fluff)

Haikyuu

Multipart

That's Really not what I meant (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) - Kuroo Tetsurō Getting Back Together with your ex? (part 1) (part 2) - Suna You left me stranded and I wanna fall in love again (part 1) - Atsumu

One shots

A world of failed sets (Kageyama - hurt) Healing together (Iwazumi -comfort). Can you stop? (Sugawara - hurt/comfort) Week 1 - (Oikawa Tooru - comfort) A world of failed Sets (Kageyama Tobio - Angst) I just wanted to help… (Osamu Miya x reader) Kiss-Proof and Bokuto Approved - (Bokuto x influencer reader

Confession series:

Honestly, I didn't even think about that (Kuroo) On a collision course (Tsukishima) It's never too late for this (Tendo) I celebrate by being honest with myself (Kageyama) A long time coming (Bokuto) All on up stream (Kenma)

Request

A moment of gentle care (Sugawara - Comfort)

Bungo Stray Dogs

One - Shots

It's MY body (Chuuya x reader)

Dangerous Attraction (Dazai x reader)

Shadows of Deceit (Tachihara x reader)

Lessons in Shadows - (Tachihara x reader)

The Middle of a War - (Chuuya x Reader)

Lovesick - (Dazai x Reader)

Standing Tall - (Chuuya x Reader)

The Sound of Rain - (Junichiro x reader)

Comfort - (Akutagawa x reader)

Dr. Stone:

One shot:

Welcome to the Stone World - Senku Ishigami

Mix fandom

Drabble

How he is (mixed fandom)

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chaoticbardlady99 · 10 months

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She’s My Religion (Part 2: She Needs This Love Just as Much as Me) Astarion x F! Reader

Author note- totally not sure how I feel about this, but here we go! I hope someone enjoys this lmao.

I’m really tired and so this has been edited once and I’ll add the link for part 1 later. If you asked to be on my tag list- I am going to be adding you tomorrow simply because I can barely keep my eyes open right now.

CW: Domestic violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of torture, violence, angst.

Picture does not belong to me and is not mine. I cannot for the life of me remember where I got it so I apologize in advance.

“You’ve been doing WHAT!?”

Astarion sits staring at the forest with his head hung with guilt and shame. Shadowheart sounds furious with him and admittedly, Astarion is also raving mad at himself.

Astarion miscalculated terribly- his plan was completely, utterly doomed from the start. Shadowheart is pacing back and forth in front of him- reading him the right act.

Astarion is zoning out as Shadowheart goes on and on saying all the things he’s already said to himself- he begins to drift to the first time he had ever met you about three years ago.

Astarion had been in solitary confinement for what had felt like forever when Cazador let him out. It was probably the only time Cazador had looked somewhat close to nervous with some sick twisted affection behind his eyes. He simply told Astarion he was to accompany you around the grounds and that you needed to be treated with respect. Your step-father did not want you to be present after dinner.

“You are allowed to take her to do what she wants- within reason. Do not let her leave the mansion grounds and make sure she is content,” Cazador said stiffly, “I am trusting you, boy. You know the consequences if you step out of line.”

Later, before you had arrived, Dalyria had made him privy to you and your… temperaments. Astarion relished in knowing you made a fool out of Petras. Someone needed to give the prick a wake up call.

It was also, supposedly, no secret to anyone in your family that you are the one Cazador wishes to marry, but due to your lack of royal blood, it would ruin his alliance with the Von family entirely. So Cazador is stuck with a woman named Daisy Von (who he cannot stand) and Astarion felt like it was the perfect karma for Cazador- the one time he wants something or someone, he absolutely cannot have it.

You were (still are) wildly different from your obnoxious step-sisters and step-brothers.

“Wild.”

“Rebellious.”

“Boorish.”

“Trouble maker.”

It was all this annoying group of people could seem to talk about- how terrible and horrible you were. What a disappointment. What a nuisance.

Dalyria told him beforehand that this was the norm and that it really only gets more embarrassing for them every time. You were kind, headstrong, ambitious, and beautiful according to Dalyria- when she had stepped in for Petras that night at the last minute, you had treated her like a person. You had asked her about herself, engaged in her hobbies by asking questions, and you had made a point of showing her all the medical books in Bridril Von’s library (you even let her take one, Bridril never goes in the library). Astarion had just stared at her in disbelief- she had to be playing a trick on him.

You stood on the farthest end next to the youngest girl and Bridril had scowled so aggressively, Astarion thought his face may cave in on itself. You are far more captivating than any of Bridril’s children could ever wish to be. No wonder Cazador wants you so badly that he’s willing to do anything to make sure you come over with them or that you show up for dinner at your own home- undeterred by the inability to actually make a proposal for your hand.

You looked positively irritated everytime Daisy opened her mouth and he was too. The woman is dense and over-the-top. Dinner had been awkward and you had barely even touched your food, but drank three goblets of wine- every time Bridril leered at you for getting another glass, a sly smirk would cross your lips. Your own silent rebellion.

Your demeanor and attitude resembled that of a bird trapped in a cage- wings clipped and feathers plucked. It made Astarion feel bitter- in what world were you trapped? You get to live in a nice mansion and go to dinner parties in nice clothes- Astarion just woke up in a TOMB after being in there for WEEKS. How dare a pampered princess such as yourself pretend that you are provided with anything less than perfection.

His bitterness (and biases) hadn’t lasted very long- it lasted for about 5 parties. Your relationship started out with a lot of bickering and miscommunication. Both of your words towards each other were passively laced with venom, but you never complained so he kept being assigned to you. It was never an option really either. Cazador insisted you be a part of every dinner despite Bridril’s grumbling.

The 6th meeting had changed everything. You had not arrived for the party your step-father was throwing and Bridril told Cazador that you were sick before hurriedly rushing off to talk to a local Magistrate. Cazador, naturally, wasn’t satisfied with this explanation so he had sent Astarion to find you.

Astarion had found you sleeping- bloody, battered, and bruised in your bedroom. There was a thick black banded bruise on your neck. The walls were empty, there was only a bedroll in the corner, and the book you had been reading the last time he was there was destroyed and in tatters on the floor. You had woken up when he accidentally slammed the door out of rage and you had looked around disoriented, but skittish and alert all the same. Your eyes softened when you realized it was just him.

You told him you had lost a competition because you hadn’t been sleeping well- too many bad dreams. Bridril had been so embarrassed that he had beaten you for the last several hours before- completely forgetting the mass amount of guests that he had invited to his home that evening. You weren’t allowed to leave your room. Astarion had been wrong. You were a trapped bird in a cage.

It was the one and only time Astarion ever willingly went to Cazador and told him what he had witnessed. You never had a scratch on you again at any future gatherings, but you always looked more tired than the time before. Bridril would boast about all the competitions you had won over the last month- Archery, jousting, mock combats, javelin throwing, etc, etc, etc. The list went on and on- you looked closer and closer to vomiting or keeling over from exhaustion with every activity he named. Life returned to your eyes when you and Astarion went off to dick around.

Escorting you around the Crimson Palace or around the Mansion quickly became his favorite part of those stupid dinner parties or any of the events Cazador threw or went to. You are complex and didn’t grow up in nobility. You despised it, but you were stuck because Bridril had enchanted your mother. You told him she breaks sometimes, but you rarely recognize the woman that pretends to be her nowadays.

You admitted to Astarion you thought he was a pompous bastard when you first met, but he is pretty so you let it slide. Astarion told you that he thought you were a spoiled brat, but because YOU were pretty, he also let it slide.

You had smiled at him, “I guess we are both wrong.”

“But not about being pretty.”

“Oh most certainly not.”

One evening, the two of you had had ‘too much’ fun according to Cazador. You had snuck him into the library and you had sat reading for the entire 6 hour affair. You had asked if it was okay if you sat near him and that eventually led to you leaninging against each other. Astarion had felt like he had been physically, painfully ripped from you when it was time to go. You had kissed Astarion on the cheek before he left and he kissed your hand. Cazador had flayed Astarion for that one night.

Astarion had felt some guilt regarding his resentment toward you after the incident. He knew he wasn’t helping his own situation by giving into your whims and your touch.

If Astarion didn’t know any better, he would think Cazador loved you, but he learned quickly that Cazador’s “affection” for you comes from a place of obsession and possessiveness. You looked like a previous lover of his from a lifetime that Astarion knew very little about. You were different from this woman, but it was not unwelcome in Cazador’s eyes- he has always liked a challenge. He could make you submit.

Cazador had wanted to send someone else to be your escort after you had begun to show an interest in Astarion- this was quickly squashed when you looked like you were going to light Cazador and his entire world on fire if he dared to volunteer another person. He had brought Leon, Astarion, and Dalyria and when Cazador volunteered Leon- you simply said, “No, I want Astarion.”

Cazador was infuriated, but he wanted- no needed you to be happy and to like him. Cazador had told Pale Petras that if he could win your favor, he was sure you’d just willingly come to him and ask to be his consort. Daisy could be thrown out entirely and maybe he’ll have negotiating room. The thought had made Astarion’s stomach turn- he wouldn’t be able to bare watching you become a lifeless consort under Cazador.

However, he always pushed those thoughts away when he was around you so he could stay in a good mood. You would flirt back and forth with Astarion, talk about irrelevant bullshit from the week, the gossip around the mansion, and you both mimicked and complained about how pathetic it was to watch Daisy grovel at Cazador’s feet- a lamb to the slaughter. You referred to the slaughter as being marriage, he referred to the slaughter as Cazador.

It had been a wonderful year of Daisy entirely failing at keeping Cazador’s attention, but she was determined and Astarion admittedly hoped that you may remain a consistent part of his life- the tiniest ray of light to look forward to once or twice a month. And if Cazador marries Daisy? Well, Astarion may never have to be that far away from you permanently.

Then, one night at a party, he had been in the Von mansion’s dining room- Cazador had instructed him to find you. He eventually gave up after he couldn’t and figured you would come to him eventually. Astarion was right, but not in the way he had originally hoped.

You had snuck into the second floor dining area and you locked it behind you. Astarion had been relieved to be in your presence again, but the state you were in… His relief was swallowed up when he had seen how bruised and beaten up you looked. Astarion had surprised you by his presence and you surprised him with your plan. You were escaping and instead of stopping you like a very massive part wanted him too- in spite of Cazador’s command to keep you from leaving the property having been shoved down Astarion’s throat, Astarion helped you tie the rope to propel down the side of the building.

Astarion can still remember the earnest look you’d given him- the way you begged him to leave with you. Gods he wanted to. Astarion remembered all the days that followed after where he kicked himself for not being selfish, but for whatever reason, he didn’t want there to be any way for you to be caught. Astarion knew if he went with you, neither one of you would ever get to know what it means to be free. Cazador would be able to find you through Astarion.

Astarion had told you “no”, struggled to get you to understand between tears, but then you promised him that you would be back. You would kill Cazador and he would be free- you just need him to wait for you. You didn’t know Cazador was a Vampire Lord at the time, but he still believed you. You said give you at least four years- you need time to prepare. He agreed.

Astarion never forgot your promise, clinging to it like a divine wish. There were only 2 more years left- then the Mindflayers kidnapped him.

Astarion had never felt more angry or defeated in his whole life. Astarion would have been free, but now he’s going to turn into a Mindflayer of all things.

Except it had been the best stroke of luck he’d ever had. You were there! In front of him after two years! Your softer noble appearance has been replaced with a scar that shows you dodged just in time to not lose an eye, an Oath of Vengeance sigil plastered to your chest, piercings along your ears, and a large beholder tattoo on your neck. Still beautiful, just far more authentic.

Astarion knows his initial plan to seduce you, sleep with you, and manipulate your feelings was a fucked up one-especially because he knew having you in every way would destroy Cazador without thinking of how it would make you feel. Astarion also acknowledged that a part of him had been doing all this for his own selfish pleasure- no one was in the way of keeping you from getting closer and Astarion didn’t want to have to share your affections with others in camp. And besides, he had been there first.

Oh and Astarion took every advantage of having you to himself. Talking to you, making you laugh, kissing you, being entangled with you while you sleep, drinking from you- fucking you until you only smell of him, leaving bite marks to show you are Astarion’s only.

What Astarion hadn’t anticipated was how much he would also want to be yours. He had been pushing down the feeling for a long time and he always brushed off Shadowheart’s puppy love jokes. Astarion was not smitten with you- he merely knows you and that’s why it’s all so easy. You had shown him simple kindness and you had a history together- you were the obvious choice to go to for protection.

Then the fight with Yurgir happened and Astarion watched you die.

The battle had been hard- brutal even for Astarion’s standards- and the constant bombs being dropped wasn’t helping the situation.

You were up top with Karlach, facing Yurgir head on while Shadowheart and himself tried to pick off the other attackers going after you both.

It had felt like hours, but in reality, what happened next lasted mere seconds.

Yurgir had made you and Karlach lose your balance, but Yurgir was focused on you. Astarion watched in despair as you were flung into the wall, crashing to the ground with a pained scream, a sickening crack, then nothing but blood pouring out of your head. Suddenly, a bomb exploded above you, the rocks began to pour down from the ceiling, and buried you.

The screams that had erupted from Karlach and Shadowheart had snapped him into action. Astarion didn’t remember the rest of the battle, just that it had been a bloodthirsty blur and now he, Karlach, and Shadowheart were clearing the rubble. Astarion had been the one to find you and your face was a bit bruised, the back of your head still seeping with blood, but you looked so peaceful and your skin was so so cold.

When you were completely uncovered, it was evident that you were dead- that this was a job for Withers or a scroll of revivify. Your neck was snapped in half, your limbs were broken- some even shattered. Shadowheart was able to heal and reset your neck so that the whole ordeal was slightly less grotesque. After, he had cradled you in his arms until Karlach and Shadowheart were sure there were no enemies between themselves and the exit.

Astarion had refused to let Karlach take you, holding your broken form against him as his silent tears spilled onto your hushed expression.

You had thankfully not been beyond the point of no return, but Astarion had realized that he needed to have a conversation with you. You are more than an upper hand to him, more than someone fun to tumble around with in his tent- you have somehow become his reason for going forward. Astarion had resigned himself to dying if you weren’t able to be revived. The thought had surprised him after wanting to be free for so long, but would his freedom be worth having if he couldn’t spend it with you? Astarion would rather take his chances and hope you end up together in the same afterlife.

That is what has led him and Shadowheart to having this conversation. Astarion wants to ask you to be something real to each other. Shadowheart had initially been confused, stating that you had “always been real?”, then he told her everything.

Whenever you left Astarion behind, he’d pass the time getting drunk with Shadowheart (if she was left behind). The last time, she had to ask Astarion if his entire conversation catalog is just about you because you were brought up every other word- he had felt incredibly embarrassed, so much so that he had gotten up and hid in his tent.

“Astarion- you never shut up about her, you’ve been following her around like a lost dog since day one- Hells you looked halfway to smitten on the DAMN BEACH!” Shadowheart says with a shrill voice, “What do you mean the entire time up until yesterday that it was all a lie!?”

“It wasn't yesterday only, my favorite wine drunk Sharran” Astarion stated matter-of-factly, “I just… didn’t want to acknowledge that I wanted more. After I first met her, I didn’t see her again for two years- it was bearable, but that had come with the promise of her coming back. She almost didn’t yesterday and I realized that, even after this is all said and done, I don't ever want her to go away. In any capacity.”

Shadowheart shook her head at him, “She’s going to be furious. Heartbroken even.”

“I know,” Astarion says thickly, “but I’m hoping she will forgive me or at least let me prove to her that I’m serious about us.”

You weren’t due back for at least another hour so they had begun working on the speech immediately.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Whatever we are,” you are glaring at him, your voice coated in venom, “or whatever you were pretending I was to you- it’s over.”

No. No. No. NO!

Astarion didn’t think it was possible for his heart to feel like it’s been shattered since it barely beats at all.

It’s over?

It can’t be over! It’s barely begun and you only have half of the story. Astarion knows you’ll listen- you’ll see sense. You have to… right?

“Darling, pl-”

“No! I hate you so much!,” you sob into your hands, his whole body hurts looking at you, “I hate you more than I thought I could ever hate anyone- undead, dead, or alive! I trusted you and you used me for your own gain- so unkindly, go fuck yourself!”

Astarion wants to grab you as you turn around and walk away. He wants to get down on his knees and plead to you- pray to you until you don’t leave him- that you take it back. You’ll give him a chance, even if he loses privileges like getting to hold your hand, cuddle with you at night, or even kiss you for a while, that would be far more bearable than losing you altogether.

Astarion falls to his knees, ruptured and humbled.

“Astarion,” Shadowheart says softly, squatting down in front of him, “it will be okay. She’ll forgive you. She just needs a second, okay? You knew and I knew that this was a toss up to begin with.”

Astarion nodded numbly and got to his feet. Shadowheart gives him a squeeze on the shoulder before going into her own tent and Astarion briskly begins to walk back to his. He makes eye contact with you as Wyll enters your tent and the look on your face when you saw him makes this whole nightmare all too real.

Once he secures the tent flaps, Astarion crawls onto his bedroll and lets the sadness consume him while being surrounded by your scent. This may be one of the worst days he’s ever had in the last 200 years- at least from what he can remember.

If Astarion wasn’t so afraid for your safety, he would have packed up all of his things and headed back to Cazador with his tail between his legs, but he can’t because all that does is put you in danger.

Astarion slowly peels himself off the bed roll and hugs his knees to his chest. He lets himself stare off into nowhere as he lets himself be consumed with the agony and vexation- it’s not like there is any wildlife to go take out his pain on.

Astarion gets up and rolls his shoulders. As much as he wants you, you are done with him and he needs to respect that. Astarion decides he’ll leave you alone, but remain in the background. He’ll stay until you tell him to leave and never return. It will hurt so terribly to not be near you like he was, but he’ll just have to be grateful for the time he did have- the time he took for granted.

Astarion begins to get ready for the long night ahead of him when an open letter on one of his books catches his attention.

It’s addressed to you, torn open and stained with tears. Astarion opens the envelope. He reads the note so many times he feels like he may go on a homicidal rampage. Not only was your mother dead, likely at the hands of your step-father, you are officially considered engaged to be married to Cazador fucking Szarr.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion had waited until morning to try to talk to you again-giving up on leaving you alone. He knows that you have a very long cool down period when your feelings are hurt (he has made this mistake less severely in the recent past). If there is any hope of you hearing Astarion out- it would be today.

Except you had already left with Karlach, Gale, and Lae’zel by the time he has finally built up the courage to leave his tent.

Astarion spent the day with Shadowheart and actually attempted to help with camp chores. Astarion bounced ideas off of her, but he didn’t tell her about the note. It felt like that was information for you to share if you wanted and you probably hadn’t intended on him learning about this information in the first place.

Shadowheart looks at him after awhile, a troubled look on her face. Shadowheart turns towards Wyll.

“Hey Wyll, they should have been back by now right?”

Wyll walks over to Shadowheart and Astarion with the same troubled expression.

“Yes, it was just a quick supply run to Last Light Inn before we take a day to recooperate,” Wyll says slowly, “I’m wondering what has held them up this long…”

Their pondering and questions were quickly interrupted by the sound of foot steps racing towards them.

“SHADOWHEART! HALSIN!”

You and Karlach were screaming their names in unison. Karlach is supporting Lae’zel and Gale is slack against you as you fight to keep him upright. The usually wonderful smell of your blood is now making him ill as you come closer to camp.

Across your sides were long, bloody scratch marks- in fact, there are claw marks all along your arms and your armor. One side of your face has a superficial scratch. Karlach appears to be in better shape, but just as scratched up nonetheless.

“We- we were ambushed by an Absolute Cultist,” Karlach exclaims breathily, “a Fist named Marcus. He was trying to bring Isobel back to Ketheric.”

Astarion watches as you help lay Gale down near Halsin and Shadowheart so they can begin to get to work, Lae’zel being laid down next to him. Shadowheart catches your wrist with her hand and gives you a Superior Healing Potion- the soft smile you offer her makes Astarion think he may have a chance.

Astarion walks back towards his tent and toys with the letter on the counter. Does he bring it up? Does he just bring it back to you and not acknowledge it? What would you even want him to do?

The noise outside had diminished as Lae’zel and Gale were recovered enough to be moved and healed in their individual tents- Shadowheart healing Gale and Halsin healing Lae’zel. It must be an early night for everyone. Astarion takes a deep breath and opens his tent flap, ready to confront you- but it looks like he didn’t have to travel very far to confront you.

There you are, cleaned up now, standing in front of Astarion’s tent looking nervous and heartbroken. In his shock, Astarion offers you his hand and gently pulls you inside, closing the flaps behind you.

“What did I do?” you blurt out, tears streaming down your face as fast as words are coming out of your mouth, “I can be useful again. I can do whatever you need me to- be whoever you need me to be.”

You take a jagged, heart wrenching inhale and he can hear you fighting the lump in your throat.

“I can’t do this alone- I just can’t,” you sob and look down at your feet, “I know what I said. I know I’m a fool for crawling back here begging you to keep pretending, but please. I can be what you need me to be, I promise. I’ll be- perfect for you. Please.”

Astarion bridges the gap between the two of you and puts your face between his hands, guiding your melancholy eyes to his.

“Darling, you have always been perfect. I have never needed you to be anything more or less than what you are. You are a Godsend.”

“Then why?” you whisper, “Why would you practice breaking up with me? What did I do?”

Astarion sits there and looks at you with bewilderment- practicing breaking up with you? He was practicing trying to ask to be with you!

He chuckles despite the tears that are slowly spilling from his eyes, “You insult me, my Love. I have no issues with breaking up with people- I think. Never really had the chance and I had no desire to end our relationship yesterday.”

You look at him with regret and guilt in your eyes. You go to move away from him- evidently worried about him rejecting you and hurting you. He moves with you, not letting you go anywhere and he kisses your forehead, one of his hands moving to the small of your back while the other remains on your cheek.

“What I was trying to tell you, my Dear,” Astarion softly whispers, “is that, regardless of my original intentions, my plan failed terribly.”

“How so?” you whisper in return.

“It was all so simple- seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy- instinctive. 200 years of instinct had kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it and all I had to do was not fall for you.”

Astarion traces your bottom lip with his thumb, pulling you into him by pressing into the small of your back. You gasp gently at the contact.

“And that is where my nice simple plan fell apart,” he says woefully, “you’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Your eyes search his face for any signs of ingenuity or deception.

“I do too, more than anything,” you say breathlessly, “but what about everything I said yesterday? Everything I said was terrible.”

“It was,” he ponders, then he says teasingly “if my feelings weren’t so hurt and if I wasn’t the one on the receiving end- I dare say I would have been proud of you.”

“Well I learned my dramatics from the best after all.”

“I didn’t know Wyll was such a great teacher- I’ll have to ask him for tips some time,” he quips.

Your laugh lifts the painful fog that has been smothering him in his tent for the last day. Astarion pulls you down with him into his bedroll, you curl up around him and he spreads the blanket out. You lay your head on his chest and he pulls you into him tightly- inhaling your scent and savoring the thrumming of your pulse underneath his finger nails.

“Those nights when we were together,” you ask, peering up at him with worry, “did they not mean anything to you then?”

Astarion freezes before he releases a deep sigh. This may be the part where you change your mind and he is mentally preparing for it- taking account of the way you feel against him just in case this is truly the last time.

“I don’t know what real looks like,” he confesses, “being close to anyone-any kind of intimacy- was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

He feels you flinch at the mention of Cazador.

“Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how to be with someone- no matter how much I’d like to.”

“I care about you deeply- we can be together without having sex for however long you need,” you pause, “you are so much more to me than sex and I adore you for so much more than just your body.”

“Really?” the shock in his voice is blatant.

“Really,” you say with a smile before laying your head back on his chest.

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” he says giddily, running his hands through your hair, “ but I know that this, this is nice.”

You hum in agreement and he draws circles on your back. Astarion basks in your presence and sits in the relief that you are back in his arms again.

“Astarion,” you break the silence, “I have to tell you something- I got a letter. It’s not… good.”

“I know, Darling,” Astarion says tightly, “you left it in here. Unfortunately I let my noisiness get the best of me.”

You both sit in the heavy silence that fills the air.

“I’m to be married off to him, Astarion,” you choke out.

“I won’t let him have you, “Astarion snarls, his voice coming out much harsher than he intended.

“But what if there isn’t a choice? What if it would protect yo-”

“No.”

He is looming over you, you are now flat on your back staring up at him. Astarion feels like a coil ready to spring. If it’s ever between him and you regarding who goes to Cazador- he’d serve a thousand life sentences before he’d ever let that vile man so much as look in your direction.

“Astarion-”

“No,” he says between clenched teeth, “you will not sacrifice yourself for me. I don’t care if you marrying Cazador and being his consort would make me mortal again. You will not be his- he cannot have you.”

You look up at him with bleary, adoring eyes, “okay.”

Astarion kisses your trembling lips and he tastes the tears staining them. Astarion pulls away and strokes your cheek softly. He lays back down and you turn towards him, tangling your hands into his hair, gently detangling it. Astarion rests his hands on your hips, using his fingers to delicately adjust you until your legs are entangled in his.

“My mom is dead, Star,” you say remorsefully “she’s gone. She was all alone and probably so afraid. I never even said goodbye before I left her to her fate- I was a coward.”

The hurt in your voice is raw and bleeding- it breaks Astarion’s heart all over again.

“I am so incredibly sorry for your mother and your loss, Little Love, “Astarion says softly, “but you are not a coward. You did what you needed to do. You were always planning on coming back.”

“I was,” you whisper, “I was going to get her first and then you.”

“Foolishly enough,” Astarion chuckles, “I never lost faith in you. I felt like if anyone could do it, it would be you- the glimpse of sunlight amongst the secondhand embarrassment that is Daisy Von.”

You giggle and press your face into his chest- the vibrations fills his chest with warmth. Astarion is so incredibly happy you are back where you belong- here with him.

“I am hardly comparable to the sun,” you say, “I think I’m a candle. Ordinary, accessible, there when you need it.”

Astarion turns over your words in his head- he agrees with the statement but disagrees with the reasoning entirely.

“You are a candle,” he says slowly, “but a candle has always been a luxury to me. It allowed me to sew or read- to have a tiny piece of my humanity back. It was nice to have a break from the dark, huddled around the small flame.”

He pauses, “ I suppose that is why I am so drawn to you. You make me feel like a person again and you are a luxury I never thought I’d be lucky enough to afford outside of those monthly visits.”

“Well, then I promise I will remain here,” you say with adoration, “your humble candle- for as long as you need me.”

“Be careful what you promise, Little Love,” Astarion teases, “if you aren’t careful, you may be stuck with me for eternity.”

“Gods, I hope so!” you say with flourish, “everyone else is terribly boring and does not appreciate my predisposition for shenanigans.”

“How ungrateful!”

“Entirely ungrateful!” you agree.

Astarion pulls you in for another kiss, a grin forming as you gasp at the suddenness of his actions. Astarion kisses the tip of your nose, both of your cheeks, and your forehead. You settle into him and he strokes your hair- your breathing evens out and you are slack against him.

Astarion takes in your sleeping figure and feels another surge of protectiveness enveloping his body. He doesn’t know how accessible his thoughts are to Cazador, but he hopes Cazador hears this one.

You cannot have her- she is mine.

_________________________________________________

Author note- should I do a part three and four with the Cazador confrontation? I’m torn- let me know your thoughts pleaseeeeee

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion acunin #astarion x f! reader #astarion x female reader

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