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theconstantsidekick · 2 years

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Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (5)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader (future)

Genre: Angsty with a hint of Fluff?

Summary: Fighting off the Winter Soldier and having a kind conversation with Bucky Barnes, Y/n didn’t think both of those things could happen all in one day. And yet…

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Alcoholism, Suicidal Ideations.

a/n: if any of you have watched the show I'm referencing, you fucking hit me up, you hear me? YOU HIT ME UP!

Y/n figures it out moments before the sirens are sounded.

After the verbal showdown with her brother and her boyfriend, she needed to blow off some steam.. Or well, just blow off some smoke. The cigarette was burning past the filter when the pieces clicked together, about why Sergeant Barnes was framed as the culprit of the attack.

But the loud sirens and the entire control room filled with agents rushing around meant she was a little too late.

As she enters, she takes a moment to spot Natasha and Tony making their way toward the exit.

“Please tell me you brought a suit,” Natasha says to Tony.

“Sure did,” Tony replies, buttoning his blazer and breaking into a jog alongside Nat. “It's a lovely Tom Ford, three-piece, two-button. I'm an active-duty non-combatant.”

“If you don’t have a suit, we gotta call in Y/n,” Nat states gravely.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Tony bites back.

“We cannot let her get anywhere near this,” Nat reminds him.

“Anywhere near what?” She asks casually, sneaking up behind them.

“For fuck’s sake. You can’t sneak up on people like that under high-stress situations like these,” Tony scolds her.

She just chuckles in response, jogging along with them.

“Y/n,” Nat tries but Y/n shuts her down.

“Come on! I’ll be fine.” She insists jovially.

Nat stops to fix her with one of her serious this-is-so-not-funny looks.

“What?” Y/n asks petulantly.

“You know what,” Nat replies.

“We don’t have time to waste. So I’ll cut to the chase. I won’t lose control and do something crazy, okay?”

But then it’s 10 minutes later and Barnes just threw her brother, her Tony across the fucking room and if there were ever any circumstance that would make Y/n extremely prone to violence, y’all have been reading this shit long enough to know, it’s this. “Yeah, Nat, remember what I said about the whole not losing control and going crazy thing?” She asks calmly, straightening up.

“Yea…” Natasha replies, apprehension clear in her tone.

“I lied.” She jumps over the railing from the floor above and lands right in front of Barnes. When she faces him, looks him in the eyes, she realises, this really isn’t Barnes at all. It’s her dearest, oldest friend.

“Soldat.”

There is a beat, a hint of a hint of recognition. And then he charges at her with her metal arm. But unlike all the times she had previously fought the Winter Soldier, this time, she is not afraid.

He hurt Tony.

This time she is just fucking angry.

She dodges easily, by stepping out of the way.

He turns to land another blow, she sidesteps that too.

She smirks, “Sie sind eingerostet.” You’re rusty.

That seems to piss him off. He punches her straight in the gut, throwing her back.

Skidding onto her knees, she looks up, gut sore, eyes watering. She isn’t losing to him this time. Not again. Never again.

Standing up straight, she lets out a short breath and motions him to come at her. He takes the bait. Running up to her, he throws his metal arm aiming for a mean left hook but it clashes, letting out a loud clang.

The metal banging against metal rings out loud enough to halt the commotion around them.

Well, that and the fact that Y/n just brandished a fucking sword out of fucking nothing. Yeah, shit like that usually catches attention, she reckons.

She hasn’t used the damn thing in… give or take two decades? And god! It feels damn fucking good. It’s exhilarating, to say the least. The dark metal of the sword shines pink as it reflects the light. It’s a soft glow, ever so delicate. But it still manages to bathe the Soldier’s pale metal hand in pink. It makes her smile.

The Soldier, however, doesn’t seem to find it even remotely charming.

His face twists in confusion. Only a beat passes before he strikes again.

She blocks again.

Another beat.

They both assess each other.

For the first time in all the thousands of times, they have faced off against each other, the Soldier seems confounded.

But the moment doesn’t last for too long. Pushing himself back, he runs up to her, gaining momentum and attacking again.

Dodging out of the way, she circles around and counters on his right side.

His reaction is a second too late and she slashes him. It’s a small cut, a scratch at best. But it draws blood.

She smiles.

Losing his temper, he charges. He strikes, she blocks. He strikes again, she dodges easily, moving around to kick his legs, causing him to loose balance.

It’s a delicate dance, as most fights are. But this one’s different. It used to be a routine for her—fighting the Winter Soldier. Day in, day out, they fought. A dance of fists and limbs, gutwrenching and unending. But this is so fucking different.

For once, she’s not scared.

She doesn’t have to fight to survive, she doesn’t have to hide a part of herself as she does. She doesn’t have to worry about making it out alive. Her brother is right behind her. Natasha is too. Steve’s a few moments away. Though she doesn’t need them to win this time around, it’s fucking comforting knowing that there is no version of this fight that ends with her dead. And maybe that’s what she needed? Because for the first time in her life, she is kicking the Winter Soldier’s ass.

For every hit he lands, she gets him back two times over.

In all honesty, she feels fucking cocky.

She smiles.

Her sword is an inch away from his throat, and there is an eerie silence hanging around them.

“Sie können nicht mehr gewinnen.” You don’t get to win anymore.

But before she can strike the final blow, her arm is pulled away as she’s pushed out of the way.

Sharon is on him in an instant, fighting with all her might the best she can. It’s not enough though. She’s a good fighter but you have to be better than good to take on the Winter Soldier.

Y/n raises her sword, ready to fight again but there’s a tug on her shoulder, pulling her back.

When she turns to look at the offender, “Barnes is still in there,” is all that Natasha says before she jumps in to help Sharon.

And fuck if that doesn’t hit where it hurts.

Barnes is still in there.

She forgot about him.

She forgot about Bucky Barnes.

In her rage and vengeance, she forgot about the man behind the mask. She made him the monster again, she forgot the man beneath, again.

Fuck.

Unfortunately, the downside of having a heartbreaking epiphany (of the fact that you’re a shit person) during a goddamn superhero fight is that you don’t have the correct tools or the required time to deal with said epiphany. Because Barnes is already in motion, T’Challa hot on his trail and Natasha is gasping for breath, having been choked by a metal hand.

It’s not until much later when she’s sitting in an abandoned warehouse with a semi-conscious Barnes coming to with his metallic arm clamped under a huge hunk of metal that she tries to come to terms with her murderous rage.

As Barnes mumbles himself awake, Sam calls Steve into the room.

“Steve,” Barnes mumbles.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he says before a painfully soft smile breaks onto his face. It reminds her of something but she can’t put her finger on it. It’s so gentle, it confuses her. The dichotomy of the rugged, broken warehouse and the reminiscing smile on his face almost breaks her. “You used to wear newspaper in your shoes.”

Steve smiles too then. He looks at her once, where she stands leaning against the wall on his right. “Can’t read that in a museum.”

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asks, frustrated. Which, yeah fair question.

“What did I do?” Barnes asks.

“Enough,” Steve tells him.

“Oh, God,” Barnes laments, anguish clear on every inch of his face. “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead,” Steve’s not pulling his punches. “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.”

Barnes thinks for a second, “He wanted to know about Siberia,” he says, eyes flinting around in recollection but never too far, never to her. “Where I was kept,” a beat. “He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve inquires.

And then for the first time since he came to, Barnes looks at her. There is a hesitance in his look too. As if he’s afraid to even look at her—like he’s not supposed to.

When his eyes fly away, looking down with shame, it clicks.

He’s afraid to mention it in front of her, ashamed even.

And fuck if that doesn’t hurt her worse.

God, I suck, she thinks.

So she does him this little kindness. Stepping up, she replies, “Because he’s not the only Winter Soldier.”

Hesitantly Barnes tells them about the rest of the Soldiers, how they were trained, how they were made… and that story… She can’t really say why but it feels familiar somehow. She doesn’t have the time to assess that thought.

“Who were they?” Steve asks.

“Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. Except—” his eyes flicker over to her once again.

“Except me,” she supplies for him, another act of kindness.

Nodding shyly, he continues. “And all that was before the serum.”

“They all turn out like you?” Sam asks him. His tone is a little too accusatory but again, she gets it.

“Worse.”

“The doctor,” Steve chimes in, “could he control them?”

“Enough.”

“Said he wanted to see an empire fall,” Steve remarks, addressing Sam.

“With these guys, he could do it,” Barnes informs them. “They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You’d never see them coming.”

Stepping up to Steve, Sam speaks in a hushed voice, “This would have been a lot easier a week ago.”

“If we call Tony—” Steve tries.

“No.” Sam cuts him off. “He won’t believe us.”

“He’ll believe her,” Steve counters, nodding at her.

Sam looks at her and relents. “Even if he did, who knows if the Accords would let him help.”

Steve looks at her then, there’s concern on his face. It’s almost sweet. The chaos around them just fades away when he looks at her like that—eyes all soft, hints of an annoyingly cute frown forming on his forehead. He looks so beautiful, always beautiful.

“What do you think?” He asks, stepping up to her.

She takes a moment. She needs a lot more than that but a moment is all she can afford. Exhaling audibly she says, “I think there’s something more.” Her words make his frown prominent. “I think there’s something we’re missing.”

“Like what?” Sam asks.

“Like why now? I know the timing of the bombing seems… opportunistic, but it feels like there’s more to it somehow. There’s a huge piece of the puzzle that we’re missing and I think the answer lies somewhere in who the fuck that fake ass doctor was,” she tells them.

“You want to figure out who he is?” Sam offers.

She shakes her head from side to side, “Yeah but we can’t let him beat us to Siberia. We need to find those Soldiers before he does.”

“And if Tony tries to stop us?” Steve asks.

“You’re on your own on that one.” She is not going to fight her brother. “I came because it was you and because—” she looks over at Barnes for a second before shaking her head. “Actually it doesn’t fucking matter why I came. If Tony’s on the other side, you’d be a bunch of dumbfucks to count on me.”

Steve, with his kindest blue eyes, just nods. He gets it.

Tony is her person. That one person for whom she’d burn the world down. He was there for her when no one else was. There aren’t words to describe the devotion she has to him, she doesn’t think there ever will be.

Steve gets it.

And why wouldn’t he?

His person is the one who got them all into this mess.

“We’re on our own,” Steve tells Sam.

But then Sam shrugs, “Maybe not. I know a guy.”

The three of them begin prepping. They make a few calls, and gather their resources, before Sam and Steve head out to grab something for them to eat and steal themselves a ride.

With as much gentleness as he can muster, Steve asks her to watch over Barnes. And she agrees with a curt nod.

After taking a few moments to gather her courage, she walks back into the room. “So,” she begins as she brings herself to rest against the wall in front of him, “The red book, huh?”

The icebreaker seems to work as she intended.

Slowly looking up at her, he asks hesitantly, “You know about it?”

Instead of a reply, there is just silence. It’s so unexpected especially when matched with the look of shock she’s wearing that it makes Barnes frown.

“Fuck sorry,” she blurts out, shaking her head. “For a second there I completely forgot that you talk now.” When Barnes just looks at her with a flat face, she adds, “What? In half the century that I’ve ‘known’ you, you’ve spoken like 17 sentences—And I think just TWO of them were to me. I’m allowed to forget that you talk.” Barnes just rolls his eyes. She smiles then, “But yeah.” She shrugs jovially. “I read about it in some old files after Peggy got me out. They obviously didn’t use it on me…” She looks at him with a challenge in her eyes. “But you knew that.”

There is a beat of silence.

And then—

“I’m so—

“I’m sor—”

That shuts both of them up.

The silence seems palpable.

“You go ahead,” Barnes breaks it.

“I just—” She hesitates for a second. Gathering up her courage, she begins again, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

But apparently, that isn’t what the man wanted to hear. “What?” He throws back, shocked.

She shifts her weight from one foot to another. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“What for?” He scoffs almost as if the entire notion is completely stupid.

“For almost killing you—well not you, him but… You were in there, you always were and I just didn’t—I never…” She shakes her head, trying to shake away all the overthought thoughts from her head. “I shouldn’t have done that. Back at the base. I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did.”

“I would’ve hurt a lot more people if you hadn’t,” he counters.

“Maybe,” she offers. “But I could’ve kept you busy without murdering you. Waited for Steve to get there. Knocked you unconscious—I don’t know. There were a million different options apart from straight-up murder. I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did.”

“I deserved it.”

“I could’ve killed you,” she argues.

“I would’ve deserved that too,” he replies slowly, head hanging low, looking too small for a man as big as he is.

She understands the sentiment. She doesn’t agree with it, but she can relate to it. She has been exactly where he is. She wishes to expedite the processes for him… another small kindness.

She clicks her tongue. “I don’t agree.” His face contorts into something akin to disagreement, but before he can voice it, she adds, “Despite our… colorful past, I assure you, you do not deserve that.”

As expected, her words don’t carry the weight that is necessary to make a man as reverently known as James Bucky Barnes feel any less guilty.

So she tries again.

“You remember what I told you?” Her question makes him look up. She takes that as yes. “I’ll tell you again, just cause I feel like you need to hear it. We are not what they made us into, Sergeant. We are not monsters. The only way to prove them wrong is to be better.”

The James Barnes she had heard tall tales about seemed a relentlessly charming flirt, who was a little cocky but in that endearing kind of way which made you fall in love with him. But the James Barnes in front of her has this silence to him that could only be explained by years of trauma. He’s not cocky or flirty but she can still see the hints of an endearing man. So much so that when he speaks next, she wants to listen as keenly as possible.

With short, stiff movements while his hand stays stuck underneath the hunk of metal, he says in a low, unsure voice, “It might be true for you… But it doesn’t—I’m not… I haven’t done anything to be better. I haven’t even begun to make up for all the horrible things I did.” There is venom in his voice as he speaks. “I am still the monster they made me.” He looks at her, “You saw today who I am—WHAT I—”

“I’m gonna cut you off there Sarge.” She takes a step forward. “Do you really believe there is something you can do to make up for all the shit you did? Because newsflash partner, there really isn’t. There isn’t some grand equation where you save 4 people for every 1 person you killed.” She needs him to understand this, right here, right now. It’s fucking important. “There is no way to ‘make up’ for our sins, Sergeant. We did what we did. We cannot undo any of it. No matter how badly we want to.”

He looks absolutely lost as he asks, “So I shouldn’t even try?”

She relaxes again, “Now, when did I say that?”

“So, you’re saying I should try but expect to fail?” He asks, almost confounded.

Y/n smiles then, “Well, I’m not trying to say that either.” She’s met with scrunched-up brows and a scowl worthy of an award of some sort. She can’t help it, she lets out a chuckle. Taking a few steps closer, she sits down on the floor. Her knees are still up cause she refuses to ruin her beautiful oxfords, while she’s manspreading cause she likes it.

He stares at her as she tries to make herself comfortable in her (once) impeccable suit.

“You know what I love about the way the world changed throughout the years?” The question is purely rhetorical, so instead of waiting for what would obviously be an annoyed zinger, she continues, “I got to watch them develop technology, language, food, social constructs, yadda, yadda, yadda. But my favorite part, the fucking best part was Media. Watching people understand the power of the media they produce was so fucking fun.” She’s wearing a huge grin on her face. “And that—” she laughs a little, manically almost. “That led to some quality fucking television! I mean top-fucking-notch, alright?”

He’s looking at her like she’s lost her mind.

“Now, why am I going on this random unrelated tangent, you ask.”

“I didn’t,” he replies with a straight face, the cheeky bastard.

She waves him off. “Because it’s not unrelated at all. Back in the late nineties, early naughties, there was this show called ‘Buffy The Vampire Slayer’, which as the name suggests was about a teenage girl named Buffy—which yes, is a very peculiar name—who used to slay vampires which were like soul-less undead and unfeeling evil little dipshits. It was a great show. It was a spec-fucking-tacular show. Peak television and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

“But we aren’t talking about that today.” She shifts a little closer. “Buffy The Vampire Slayer had this spin-off show—which essentially is another show set in the same universe as the first, usually staring a side character from the original story as the main character in this one.” Waving her hands around, she continues, “Anyway, so Buffy The Vampire Slayer had a spin-off called Angel, which followed a dude named Angel—obviously—who used to be a vampire long before either of the shows started, and did like a bunch of crazy homicidal maniac shit but then got cursed with having his soul back.”

“That doesn’t sound like a curse,” Barnes interjects, almost shocking her.

“Doesn’t it though?” she counters. “After wreaking havoc, killing innocents, creating chaos everywhere you went, with no regard for the consequences—and doing so for like a century… you wake up the next day having to feel the guilt for all of it?” Cocking her brow she asks, “Is that not the worst punishment one could possibly get?”

Barnes’ eyes shy away.

“I thought you said this was relevant,” he contends half-heartedly.

She smiles again. “It is. Will you just give me a second?” When all he does is exhale audibly in patient annoyance, she continues, “So, as I was saying; Angel leaves the setting of the previous show and moves to L.A. where his show begins. Fights two or three bad guys, meets a few old friends, has a couple of revelations where he comes to realize that the only way to move forward is to help people, to be better. And so he decides to start an investigation agency to ‘help the helpless’.” He looks at her with a discernable look in his eyes.

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because, there comes a point in the show where someone like you, asks him why he does it. If he knows that his actions don’t matter, the greater scheme, the big picture. If there is no grand plan, no big win… If none of it changes because of what he does, then why do it? Why even try to be good? Why help people who if given the chance might not help him?” She smiles reminiscing. “And he says—and I remember it like it was yesterday cause that is how spectacular this show was—he says to the woman, ‘If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do… cause that’s all there is.’.

And there it is…

There is the moment.

Not too long, not too short.

Just a moment.

And then she says, “It’s a great fucking show… I mean it has 5 seasons, three of which are almost unwatchable but it’s still a great fucking show. And I do not say that lightly, I mean—it’s so simple yet poignant, right? Redemption isn’t something you do for a certain period and then you’re done. The show—and this is another reason why I say it is a fucking genius piece of television—but yeah, the show equates Angel’s search for redemption and struggles with being a vampire to alcoholism. His thirst for blood is quite similar to an alcoholic’s thirst for booze and sobriety is a cruel bitch. You don’t become sober by not drinking alcohol for a set number of days. It’s something you practice every single day. You wake up in the morning and choose to be sober till you go to bed. And then you wake up the next day to make that choice all over again.”

She exhales loudly.

She’s been talking too fast.

Tony keeps telling her she talks too much about shows or films she likes.

“All that was just a long-winded way of saying that we cannot make up for what we did. But trying regardless of that? Now that—” she clicks her fingers, “That is what proves them wrong… it’s what makes us good people,” she tells him.

A hint of a smile glints across his face.

Then he asks, “Is that why you do this?”

With furrowed brows, she asks, “You mean this superhero shit?” When he nods, “God no! The hero gig is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. I do it just for Tony, so there is someone to watch his back when he’s out there because I know for a fact the kid isn’t capable of doing it for himself.” She smiles at the thought of her brother. Shaking her head, she adds, “I—I’m a lawyer. That’s how I decided to help the helpless.”

“It’s kind of funny I suppose.” Slowly she gets up, standing up on her feet. “If there were an actual scale I’d be a lot more fucked in trying to balance things than you are.”

“Why would you say that?” He asks, confused.

As if the answer isn’t fucking obvious. “You were violated, controlled into doing what you did. I on the other hand had a choice—fuck! I was probably the only person in that goddamn place who did!”

“A choice between what? Doing what they told you, or dying at my hands?” He counters, incredulous. His voice rising for the first time.

In the distance, she can hear Steve and Sam parking whatever car they had jacked.

“Just because it wasn’t a good choice, doesn’t mean it wasn’t a choice.”

He doesn’t understand. He can’t.

What he went through was beyond horrible. But it wasn’t like that for her. Every single step of the way, and every single time she chose the easy way out. She chose self-preservation over what was the right thing to do. She was selfish, dangerously so.

Therefore it’s only fair that the price for her freedom should be higher.

How can he not see that?

His jaw clenches at her words, “You’re a hypocrite.”

As Sam and Steve make their way inside the warehouse, she puts her hands inside her pocket turning away from him, she smiles, “33 sentences in half a century, Sergeant.” She turns her head to look at him again, “You do not know me.”

And just like that, the unspoken truce they’d agreed upon has been violated.

When Sam and Steve enter the room, the tension is so palpable Sam asks cautiously, “I feel like we’re interrupting something. Should we step out?”

“Nah, we’re done here.” With that, she turns around and walks out.

Read next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

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conquerthenight · 11 months

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Because I can, here’s a list of some of my favorite lyrics from my English translation of Rebecca:

“She had tried her best/fought with all her might/but I rose to do what’s right” -Last Night I Dreamt of Manderley/Ich hab Geträumt von Manderley

“I wish I could find a way/to forever keep my memories/to have it close to me/where you were meant to be/and it would never fade” -Bottle Full of Memories/Zeit in Einer Flasche

“She’s set me free/she’s put her faith in me/Is she still holding on?/I’ll never know but I’ll be there so she won’t fall” -Naturally Enchanting/Zauberhaft Natürlich

“But we’ve learned/he’ll return/with the second Mrs. de Winter” -The Second Mrs. de Winter/Die Neue Mrs. de Winter

“She’s still here with me/where she’s meant to be/“She will never come back here”/That’s what they say to me/No, they cannot see/but I still fear her spirit with me/She’s watching, she’s listening” -She’s Still Here With Me/Sie Ergibt Sich Nicht

“No man in the world was ever there for her/She was proud and free/I stood right there by her side/No man could ever satisfy her love/In the end she never really died” -She’s Still Here With Me/Sie Ergibt Sich Nicht

“Help me face the night/Make me feel right/I’m afraid to be alone/lost in my world/Could I now have a future?/Lead me from this nightmare/to something true/Show me what love can do” -Help Me Face the Night/Hilf Mir Durch die Nacht

“He loves and hates without control/His enemy is his own soul” -Something is Wrong With Him/Was ist nur Los mit Ihm

“She’s gone/She’s gone now/She won’t come back/She’s down in the sea/long gone/and never to return” -She’s Gone/Sie’s Fort

“I was a fool/to hope I could be saved/that night forever haunts me, haunts me/please, my god/you know my fear/why have I come back here” -Please, My God/Gott, Warum

“With swing and Coca-Cola at the parties/I admire and desire what is big/Everything that I do is…American made” -I’m an American Woman

“I’ll finally show them/they can’t make me feel small/Tonight I will amaze them all” Tonight I Will Amaze Them All/Heut Nacht Verzauber Ich die Welt

“Rebecca, you’ve disappeared from sight/A thousand bright lights shine/You’re sorely missed tonight/Like a star. I will give you a sign” -Rebecca (Act 1 finale)/Rebecca (Finale Erste Akt)

“When you look into my eyes, do you still long for Rebecca?/When I walk through the halls of Manderley/they talk of none but Rebecca” -What if I’m not Enough/Und Das Und Das Und Das

“She hears what you say/and knows what you are thinking/Watching you even now/He is still her possession/You knew from the start/He never loved you/Just a toy for his affection” -Rebecca II

“With this news/someone’s in trouble/Destiny’s taking its course/Whoever did this is bound for the scaffold/Til then I’ll watch this play out” -The Shipwreck/Strandgut

“Why can I still that smile?/Her name inside my mind/The words she said have lost their hold/But even now she’s still in control” -Why Can I Still See That Smile/Kein Lächeln war je so Kalt

“I want to be at home here/not treated like I’m just a guest/I will live life as I please/She can’t control me now” -Mrs. de Winter is Me/Mrs. de Winter bin Ich

“The hull was pierced with holes/The boat would surely sink/It was no accident/whatever you may think/Unless something strange occurred/it’s suicide or murder” -The Inquest/Die Voruntersuchsung

“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine/Don’t look like that/come off it/I’ll shut up/show me where to sign/You have your loot/Now I want mine/Yes, show me all my profit” -I’ll Scratch Your Back/Eine Hand Wäscht dir andere Hand

“Who is this man? This secret Dr. Baker/She was his patient/A gynecologist/What does he know of her?” -They Left at Eight/Sie füh’rn um Acht

“This was all just a game/she had thought she won/She tricked us all/She used another name that day/There was never a pregnancy” -The Revelation/Keiner hat sie Durchschaut

“Rebecca, I’ve always longed for you/There’s no point longing when you’ve disappeared from view/Even now, I stand waiting for you” -I Hear You Singing/Ich War Ihr Nah

“Conquer the night/Conquer the fear/Make the shadows disappear/Now we are free/We can bring in a future” -Conquer the Night/Jenseits der Nacht

“At last I feel the light of dawn surround us/The shades of night are gone forevermore” -Conquer the Night/Jenseits der Nacht

“The house I loved goes up in flames/The house that was my father’s pride and joy/is burning, lost for good/But with the house/burns all my memories/The past no longer haunts me, haunts me” -Manderley’s On Fire/Manderley In Flammen

“Only now and then/in our darkest days/something stirs the hurt inside/Yet we learn to live/mend and then forgive/and the past fades with the tide” -Last Night I Dreamt of Manderley (reprise)/Ich Hab Geträumt von Manderley (reprise)

“There are times in life/where we can forget/all the hurt that came before/We must take this time/search with all our might/and move on to make things right” -Last Night I Dreamt of Manderley (reprise)/Ich Hab Geträumt von Manderley (reprise)

#wow this got long #but i don’t care #english translation #kunze approved english demo #if you couldn’t tell #i’m really fond of danny’s songs #as well as the duets between ich and maxim #and the epilogue #my username was based off these lyrics #my writing partner and i wanted to put our demos of this on spotify #but now that the london production is happening i dont think the vbw will allow that #vbw answer my emails challenge #i’m sure charing cross will have better lyrics than mine #but i’m still proud of what i wrote #rebecca das musical #edit: added a quote from kein lächeln #because i forgot we heavily rewrote that song

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apfelhalm · 3 months

Note

I was wondering if you could gimme some feelings in these cold winter days with the prompt from this writing prompts with Izana x Kakucho from Tokyo Revengers 🥺

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

"An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose."

Source: https://www.tumblr.com/kashimalin-fanfiction/178524845380?source=share

"Na?" Izana reckt das Kinn in die Höhe und seine neuen Ohrringe klackern leise vor sich hin. Er fragt nicht wirklich nach Kakuchos Meinung - Izana hat schon immer nur das getan, worauf er Bock hatte -, aber er will die Bestätigung, die einem König zusteht.

Kakucho mustert ihn. Die Anhänger passen gut zur Tenjiku-Uniform, noch besser zu Izanas schmalem, eleganten Gesicht. Allerdings ... Kakuchos Hand bewegt sich von ganz alleine auf Izanas Ohrläppchen zu, wo er den halboffenen Verschluss des Ohrrings bemerkt hat. Jemand anderen hätte er niemals so nah an Izana herangelassen, doch für ihn selbst gelten diese Regeln nicht. Kakucho ist Izanas Diener und ein Diener muss seinem König manchmal unauffällig unter die Arme greifen. So wie jetzt. Er lehnt sich vor und fummelt an dem Verschluss, bis er einrastet.

"Jetzt passt es", brummt er und guckt zu Izana hoch, genau als dieser ihm das Gesicht zudreht. Heißer Atem streift über seine Wange, dann warme Lippen über seine: unerwartet, kaum spürbar und so schnell wieder weg, wie sie da waren. Kakucho wird heiß und kalt, bevor er erstarrt.

Für einen Moment sehen sie sich einfach nur an. Izanas Blick ist wie der einer Schlange, lauernd und unberechnbar, doch dann verzieht er den Mund zu einem kleinen, amüsierten Lächeln. Er legt den Kopf schief, wie eine Einladung, wie eine Herausforderung, und Kakucho schluckt schwer. Ah, denkt er, und dann Scheiß drauf, als er sich erneut vorlehnt und das holt, was er schon immer haben wollte.

Izanas Lippen sind weich, genauso wie das blasse Haar, durch das Kakucho jetzt mit seinen Fingern kämmt. Schon damals im Waisenhaus hat er sich gefragt, wie es wohl wäre, Izana Kurokawa auf diese Weise zu berühren, ihn zu küssen. Es ist genauso, wie er es sich vorgestellt hat, und ganz, ganz anders. Wie das Gefühl, wenn sie im Winter ein Iglu gebaut haben, bis ihre Finger steif wurden, aber so breit dabei gegrinst haben, dass seine Backen wehgetan haben. Weich und kalt und schneidend und warm, alles auf einmal.

Als er sich zurücklehnt, ist ihm ein bisschen schwummrig und das Blut rauscht ihm so laut in den Ohren, dass er kaum Izanas leises Seufzen hört. Wie in Trance reibt er mit dem Daumen über Izanas Ohrläppchen und lässt den Anhänger noch einmal durch seine Finger gleiten.

"Sie steh'n dir", sagt er schließlich mit rauer Stimme und Izana leckt sich langsam über die Lippen, bevor er ihn leise anlächelt. Ein Lächeln wie Schnee im Winter.

"Ich weiß."

#tess is kind of writing #tokyo revengers #auf deutsch weil ich grad nicht auf englisch kann #ich hoffe es mundet <3 #ask game #ask

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samsi6 · 1 year

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Gegen halb Vier am Nachmittag badeten die Bäume im Fluss. Sie taten dies schon seit Tagen. Es war wieder so ein Winter, der mit ergiebigen Regenfällen dafür Sorge trug, dass es zum Fußbad für die Bäume kam. Es war kühl und eigentlich zu nass, aber trotzdem nahmen die Bäume mit, was sie nehmen konnten. Schließlich hatten sie alle die letzten Jahre erlebt, als es halbjährig und länger kaum nennenswerte Niederschläge gab. Es ist licht geworden, rund um das Flussufer. Einige Bäume kamen mit diesen neuen Trockenphasen nicht zurecht. Sie wurden gestutzt, gefällt, brachen einfach ab oder fielen bei einem kräftigeren Luftzug um. Und die, die jetzt noch standen, sie spürten, es würde nicht mehr besser werden. Sie nahmen ihr Fußbad und machten weiter. Irgendwie. Was sonst blieb ihnen übrig...

Around three thirty in the afternoon the trees were bathing in the river. They've been doing this for days. It was another winter that, with heavy rainfall, ensured that the trees were given a footbath. It was cool and actually too wet, but the trees still took what they could take. After all, they had all experienced the last few years, when there was hardly any rainfall worth mentioning for six months or longer. It has become light around the river bank. Some trees could not cope with these new droughts. They were clipped, felled, simply broke off or fell over when there was a strong draft. And those who were still standing, they felt it wasn't going to get any better. They took their footbath and went on. Somehow. What else should they do...

#frankfurt #river main #nied #baeume #trees

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grigori77 · 4 months

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2023 in Movies, My Autumn/Winter Top Ten Runners-Up Rundown

20. FERRARI – returning after almost eight years in the cinematic wilderness (outside of producing credits and ushering in TV like Tokyo Vice, anyway), director Michael Mann definitely seems to be back with a bang with this opulent, intense and emotionally charged biopic telling the story of automotive pioneer Enzo Ferrari’s 1957 battle to claw his company out of the looming pit of bankruptcy while beset by the crippling recent loss of his son Dino and his tempestuous relationship with his wife and business partner Laura (Penelope Cruz).

19. SAW X – after years of wallowing in the frustrating mires of diminishing levels of quality, Leigh Whannel’s twisted but sometimes downright BRILLIANT slasher horror franchise has FINALLY got itself back on track with this intriguing (sort of) prequel directed by long-serving series alumnus Kevin Greutert, which see the socially-conscious serial killer with a very specific CAUSE, master trap engineer John Kramer (the always awesome Tobin Bell), go off proper biblical on a gang of con artists who have NO IDEA who they just tried to take advantage of while he struggles with his encroaching terminal cancer …

18. THE HOLDOVERS – despite trying to play itself off as an old school throwback, Sideways director Alexander Payne’s latest top-notch comedy drama feels wonderfully fresh and DEFINITELY relevant, especially since I was finally able to check it out in the middle of the Festive period of 2023. Paul Giamatti delivers a career best turn as Paul Hunham, a curmudgeonly classics teacher at an elite boarding Academy in the 1970s who ends up the designated staff member overseeing the handful of misanthropic teenage students who find themselves trapped on campus over the Christmas break with nowhere to go.

17. WISH – so, does this do a good enough job of marking 100 years of Disney animated features? I dunno … but it IS a fun movie all the same, a typically spellbinding piece of work from a studio who’ve long since proved they can pull off this kind of movie-making in their sleep. A big part of the charm in this musical fantasy adventure is Ariana DeBose (West Side Story, Schmigadoon!) as wilful, imaginative peasant girl Asha and her complicated struggle with Chris Pine as King Magnifico, the powerful wizard who wants to exploit the magical sentient star she just wished upon for his own nefarious ends …

16. NAPOLEON – Ridley Scott’s long awaited return to epic historical cinema may not be QUITE the comeback masterpiece we’ve been hoping for, but there’s no denying this is still a very impressive piece of work and a MASSIVE filmmaking achievement in an artform which is in imminent danger of dying out in the current market. Joaquin Phoenix clearly really relished his opportunity to reteam with Scott after Gladiator, letting rip with gusto as the complicated French general and tyrant whose story is told here less through the course of his many impressive but bloody victories than his tumultuous relationship with his beloved Empress Josephine (Vanessa Kirby).

15. MY ANIMAL – sneaking in under the radar to capture my attention entirely by chance, this enjoyably offbeat, erotically charged coming-of-age werewolf horror indie from debuting director Jacqueline Castel tells an intriguingly POTENT tale of dangerous forbidden passions and burgeoning sexual self-discovery as teenage Canadian lycanthrope Heather (I Love Dick’s Bobbi Salvor Menuez) falls desperately in love with Johny (The Hunger Games and The Hate U Give’s Amandla Stenberg), a new arrival in her snowbound early 80s mountain town.

14. SITTING IN BARS WITH CAKE – another one which largely snuck in under the radar, this time onto Amazon Prime, an irrepressibly adorable romantic comedy drama from director Trish Sie (Pitch Perfect 3) which largely avoids the usual pitfalls that tend to turn me off about these kinds of movies by instead ultimately being about the unstoppable power of FRIENDSHIP as cripplingly shy LA girl Jane (The Sun Is Also a Star’s Yara Shahidi) uses freshly baked cakes as an ice breaker at the urging of her extroverted best friend Corinne (Hellraiser 2022’s Odessa A'zion) as a means to boost her self-confidence.

13. SUZUME – once again Disney gets eclipsed by an anime, it would seem … yeah, the latest offering from whimsical master writer-director Makoto Shinkai (Your Name, Weathering With You) is another absolute WINNER, following the misadventures of Kyushu highschooler Iwato Suzume as she accidentally unleashes an ancient, potentially massive destructive force intent on opening hidden dimensional doors all over Japan which would spell immense cataclysmic chaos if she doesn’t find a way to stop it.

12. REBEL MOON, PART ONE: A CHILD OF FIRE – okay, so here we go … yeah, this is gonna be a TRICKY one, since I KNOW that we’re only really getting HALF the movie here, with the as yet unreleased Director’s Cut of the first part of Zack Snyder’s epic sci-fi extravaganza for Netflix promising to be the much more complete package, and I can definitely see how that could to be a potential MASTERPIECE. So while this is notable for the fact that this will probably be the very first movie to place in TWO YEARS of my rundowns, this is ultimately just a placeholder. But it definitely deserved it, so I couldn’t NOT. Please don’t AT ME, guys, this should hopefully all get cleared up in 2024 …

11. KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON – while Martin Scorsese’s latest super-long epic historical biopic just isn’t the undeniable stone-cold MASTERPIECE that 2019’s The Irishman was, this adaptation of David Grann’s potent novel retelling the dark and bloody tale of the Osage Indian Murders is still a proper belter from one of the greatest filmmakers around. Leonardo Dicaprio plays things a lot darker than usual as Ernest Burkhart, the money-grubbing husband out to exploit the fortune of his unwitting Native American wife Mollie (Certain Women’s Lily Gladstone, a revelation here) at the behest of his monstrous crime boss uncle William King Hale (Robert De Niro).

#2023 in movies #ferrari #ferrari movie #saw x #the holdovers #wish #disney wish #napoleon #napoleon movie #my animal #my animal movie #sitting in bars with cake #suzume #suzume movie #rebel moon part one a child of fire #killers of the flower moon

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schwimmtagebuch · 10 months

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QUOMODO PRAESCIANTUR FUTURA?

Fragen, die ich nicht stellen sollte: Was studierst du? Woher kommst du? Heute bin ich sofort nach der Arbeit nach Schönbrunn gefahren und 40 Längen geschwommen, es waren viel zu viele Leute dort und er nicht da. Am Abend bin ich noch 20 Längen geschwommen, im Schatten, seltsam, dass die Sonne dort nach Osten wandert und nicht nach Westen. Bei der Arbeit habe ich ihn plötzlich vor mir gesehen, wie er auf mir liegt, er ist so leidenschaftlich in meiner Vorstellung, es ist in mich gefahren wie ein Seelenorgasmus. Ich werde niemanden mehr lieben nach ihm, noch nie habe ich jemanden so begehrt, ich habe sofort gewusst: das ist er. Ich kann aufhören, zu suchen und nachzudenken. MS hat mir erklärt, dass er erst bereit zum Sterben sei, wenn er die große Liebe gefunden habe und als er sie gefunden hatte, hat er gesagt: Jetzt bin ich bereit. Vielleicht ist der Schwimmer morgen Vormittag da? Er mag es nicht, wenn so viele Leute im Wasser sind. Ich sehe ihn wieder vor mir, er ist zurückgekommen. Einer muss den ersten Schritt tun, nein, es hat schon begonnen. Die wahren Beziehungen sind einfach, sie ergeben sich. Wir sehen uns immer und wir tun dasselbe, wir schwimmen gleich lang, wir sind im selben Wasser, in derselben Ursuppe, schwimmen ist so sinnlich. Er ist zurückgekommen, er begrüßt mich, er sucht mich wie ich ihn suche. Ein Stern hat wohl noch Licht, nichts, nichts ist verloren. Paul Celan

10:13 AM

Bin irgendwann am Wochenende in diesem Blog ein- und erst jetzt wieder aufgetaucht. Die Zukunft von einem Freibad im Winter, der Eiszeit, ist bei 2 Alternativen relativ einfach vorherzusehen: Wiedereröffnung im Sommer - worauf Du wartest - oder vorübergehend dauerhaft geschlossen (leere Kassen). Aber was ist seither in 4 Jahren aus Deiner Zukunft geworden, was kam und was ging, was sich (im Blog) erfüllte oder Dich enttäuschte, wäre eine schöne Zwischen-/Weihnachtsbilanz. Vielleicht findet sich wieder wer, der ins Becken dieses Blogs so rutscht und wie ich irgendwann beginnt, alles von vorne zu lesen, obschon es manchmal nicht einfach ist. Aber gerade das anders sein, nein, Dein Bewusstsein für Dein auch anders sein (wollen) macht das Leben für Dich bestimmt nicht immer einfacher, doch für manch andere wie mich nicht nur bunt, sondern farbenFROH wie Irland's 40 shades of green, was mich an Gary Moore's "Wild Frontier" erinnert. Ich meine, dass ich irgendwann in der Nacht sinngemäß etwas von "ob Du in/auf die Arbeit passt" las, denn so erging's mir viele Jahre, bis ich nicht aussteigen durfte, aber musste und wollte. Ich habe das Blog als Fortsetzungsroman genossen und mich an die Freibadsaison erinnert gefühlt, aber aus der anderen Perspektive, wer sie, nicht er, wohl sei. Als sie mir auffiel, kam in mir nicht zuerst die Frage auf, wer sie sei, sondern: Ihre Anmut beim Schwimmen schien so groß, dass man sich wirklich fragen musste, ob sie die Anmut von ihm oder gar er die Anmut von ihr hatte. Er ist nicht der Mann der Männer, sondern der Schwimmer unter Schwimmern: der Delphin Ich war zu schüchtern, sie in ihren 3 stündigen Trainingssessions zu fragen, une ahnte, dass sie wie Du nicht gestört werden wollte und dachte an Archimedes: Störe meine Kreise nicht! Nach 5 Monaten überwand ich mich und widmete ihr ein paar Zeilen, nachdem sie den Fehler ihre Lebens gemacht hatte, weil sie 3 Kids von unter 12 Jahren grundlos mit "Du Asi" beleidigte, kratzte und einen Jungen mehrfach schlug, was keiner einer Frau zutrauen würde, aber ... In den 12 Monaten entpuppte sich der Delphin nicht als Butterfly, sondern zu einem Hai oder einer Riesenkrake, doch that's another story. Aber es begann wie bei Dir hier mit stiller Bewunderung und sehnsüchtiger Erwartung auf ein Wiedersehen beim Training auf eine oder mehrere "Bahnen", Deinen Längen. schöne Bilder, mitunter anstrengende Zeilen, aber immer grenzenlose Hoffnung und das, nein, Dein Freibad, der Ausgangsort Deiner Beobachtungen oder Phantasien wird 2011 wieder öffnen, bestimmt! und wie Gary Moore es besang gehe ich nun wieder back to the wild frontier, bevor das Schwimmen Dich/uns ruft: Auf die nächste "Länge" in unserem Leben!

#barbara zanotti #schwimmtagebuch #ari fink #schwimmtagebuch revisited #ari fink photography #juni 1998 #26.2.2006

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lorenzlund · 1 year

Text

Kleiner Mann was nun?

Heutiges (importiertes) Polizeiblaulicht auf S(t)reifenwagen auch des Deutschen und nach dem erneuten Kriegsende.

*Und selbst Bob Dylan (It’s all over now, baby blue) und Hans Fallada haben offenkundig so doch etwas gemeinsam!

Der kleine Mann leidet plötzlich selber auch unter einer wiederholten Er-Kaltung dadurch!

Die Außenfarbe auch die von ihm nimmt nun dadurch eine immer stärkere bläuliche Färbung an!

Und davor wird nun eigens auch er wieder gewarnt!

(Dem kleinen Mann ihm droht nun selber das baldige Umfallen dadurch, der erneute Umsturz!!

Erneut fällt auch er dabei von einer Sache ganz oder gänzlich ab:

‘You must leave now, ... so you better grab it fast!!’. Bob Dylan. )

Das All-incluse Angebot - oder Überraschung des Kreuzfahrtschiffes. Selbst bei Mahlzeiten. Und Hotels in sogenannten (Billig-)Urlauberparadiesen:

‘All your seasick sailors, they're now all rowing home ...’ (Dylan)

Kiel ist dennoch aber nicht gleichzusetzen mit vielleicht sogar auch Kiew ... trotz der stark ähnlichen Schreibweisen wieder beider!!

Eine rein private Anmerkung dazu.

Und sie stammt oder kommt diesmal sogar vom auch Deutschen!!

(Während des zweiten Weltkrieges war Kiel der Hauptstützpunkt der deutschen Marine. Hier lagen die allermeisten ihrer Kriegsschiffe und U-Boote vor Anker, von dort gingen sie dann erneut auf Feindfahrt!!

‘Forget the dead you’ve left!! ... Leave your stones behind, strike another match, just stark anew. (And yet), it’s all over now, baby blue!!!”

“Yonder stands an Orphan with a gun.

See, watch your empty-handed army (how it is all going home) ...”

‘Painters ... drawing crazy patterns on the shit!’

“Lovers who walk out of the door”

“Now the saints are coming really through!!”

“... and vagabonds are standing in the clothes you once wore”.

“So whatever you wish to keep ... better grab it fast!!”

“Scholz übergibt in Kiel zwei U-boote an Malaysia”

‘In Kiew herrschen derzeit Temperaturen unter Null”

“Bleiben sie in Deckung!!” *Bürgermeister Klitschko äußerte das so oder soll das so den Bürgern gegenüber seiner Stadt gesagt haben. In Kiew schlagen erneut besonders zahlreiche Raketen ein welche aus Russland kommen (gemäß heutiger Morgen-Presse und aktueller Mitteilungen aus Deutschland.

“Für fast das gesamte Stadtgebiet fällt so erneut der Strom aus, fällt auch das Heizen im Winter deswegen erneut für die Bürger komplett auch weg, in Häusern fehlt es an Wasser und an Licht.”

“Wegen Energieeinsparmaßnahmen bleiben Stadtbüchereien und Schwimmbäder über die Jahreswende in Kiel wie Lübeck geschlossen”

“Pflegekräfte wollen weiterarbeiten ... trotz starken Personalengpässen auch bei sich!!” (deutsche Krankenhausgesellschaft) *Jeder besitzt immer zumindest ein paar auch eigene Helden noch genauso und/oder übergrosse Heldinnen!!

Die Welt gestern.: Speicher leeren sich immer schneller. Bundestag verspricht Preisbremse fürs kommende Jahr. *der Greis, Greise, Bremse bei Greisen (u. Rentnern), ‘Gaspreis(not)bremse’ oder ‘-umlage(n)’

Entweder alles sieht also in Kiew so wie bisher noch aus und in früheren Jahren, es steht nach wie vor alles in ihr auch an Gebäuden, und es blieb dann bei den bisher schon so zahlreich vorgetragenen Schauspielkünsten sehr vieler auch anderer, wie dem US-Film und insbesondere Hollywood, oder die Stadt Kiew wird nur stellvertretend angegriffen. Dann diente sie anderen wiederholt als nur Sündenbock.

“Wir haben es hier mit erneuten Kriegsverbreche(r)n zu tun!!” (so die Regierung dazu erneut, selbst die auch in Kiew). Nur welche genau sind auch hier wieder damit dann gemeint, selbst von der heutigen Regierung der Ukraine?? Und von welcher Seite kommen sie?

*Das Blaulicht selbst von oder auf heutigen Einsatz- und Streifenwagen der Polizei auch in Deutschland, es wäre wirklich ratsam, man schaffte es bald überall so ab, nicht nur bei uns, andere Länder täten das so dann auch, sie folgten dem dann noch genauso, und ersetzte es in Zukunft dann durch etwas komplett anderes auch bei sich! *Nur Gelb sollte es dann besser auch nicht sein, und auch nicht ein rotes, beide wären nur sehr wenig empfehlenswert auch! *es, jemd. fehlt das eigene frühere Schwert als Mann plötzlich vielleicht noch genauso oder auch: ‘empfehlenswert, (Wirklich) sehr empfehlenswert!, Ich empfehle das sehr!!”

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instaheatinuk · 2 years

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Instaheat UK Reviews- Where to Buy or Instaheat Heater Price in UK

Instaheat is for people in Germany who want to brave the winter cold in Germany without breaking the banks to pay utility bills. In this Instaheat Review, we decided to introduce you to this innovative Instaheat. Surprisingly, Instaheat is currently trending in Germany, UK, America and Canada.

Instaheat EXPERIENCES – WHY IS Instaheat VERY HELPFUL IN WINTER?

For older people, winters are the most challenging months of the year as they have to deal with the cold winters that become unbearable over time. But you don’t have to deal with such cold winter air and temperatures when you have Instaheat next to you.

Instaheat is the personal innovatively designed heater equipped with the advanced heating technology to offer you the quickly heated air to keep a comfortable and personal space warmer.

Klicken Sie Hier, Erhalten Sie 50 % Rabatt Von Der Offiziellen Website

Instaheat heater UK is an advanced heating device designed for your personal space and can be used in both office and home. It is easy to use and features advanced PTC ceramic heating technology that consumes less power and emits powerful waves of heat to keep you and your personal space warmer and cozier. Read on to learn what secret I found in my Instaheat experience.

Product Name

Instaheat

Manufacture

Heat up the room in a few minutes.

Type

Remote Controller

Technology

Instant heating technology

Advantages

It uses less energy to generate heat.

It saves money on utility bills.

Small and portable.

Can be used in any room with an outlet.

Uses intelligent technology with a digital screen.

Immediate heating effect.

Temperature

Temperature display that can be adjusted

Specifications

Instant heating

Inexpensive

Intelligent screen

Quiet working

Portable

Overheat protection

Digital Screen Display

Temperature

Speed

Timeout

Distance covered

250 sq ft

Guidelines for use

First: Just plug it in.

Set the desired temperature

The device then heats up in 2 minutes.

Power used

350 watts

Distance covered

250 sq ft

Price

€59.95

Multi-Boxes

Available in:

1 x Instaheat

2 x Instaheat

3 x Instaheat

5 x Instaheat

Availability

Only through the official website

Official Website

Click Here

WHAT IS Instaheat ACTUALLY?

The Instaheat is a personal and portable heater made from high-end PTC ceramic heating technology. It is designed to provide you with warm air to keep you and your family members comfortable and warm during the cold winter hours in Germany.

It is an innovative, compact and portable heating device and is currently surprisingly conquering the tech market. This heater is perhaps the best and most effective option for going through the winter without fear of catching a cold.

All Instaheat reviews across Germany and my personal experience confirm that this product is faster and can heat up your personal space in just 2 minutes. As stated on the official website, the Instaheat distributes heat evenly no matter the size of the room. Without room installation, it can heat up to 75 degrees Fahrenheit. This device can be used anywhere in the room, such as on a table, counter, or other flat surface. There are several ways to control the heat in this room. This brand offers a wide range of temperature settings to suit everyone’s preferences.

IS Instaheat REALLY GOOD?

The Instaheat heats up your space quickly while using very little energy. Ceramic technology is also known for durability and longevity. This heater will serve you effectively for a very long time. It comes with all the right features to keep it safe and not only to keep it safe but to ensure you and your family are heavily protected from burns or injury. It is 100% safe to use.

You will find that the Instaheat is equipped with an overheat protection feature that ensures the physical frame of the heater is heat resistant, allowing the user to pick it up with their bare hands and transport it from one room to another.

This heater also comes with the built in safety timer feature. This feature can be used to program the heater to turn on at a specific time and turn off at a specific time. This integrated temperature control is easy to use and gives you complete control over the heat distribution that suits your needs during certain cold periods.

For most households in Germany, the Instaheat is the best option to ensure the highest level of security and protection. Apart from that, the Instaheat is loved in Germany for the many other amazing features that are undeniably unique to the device as this heater is portable, compact, efficient and very affordable.

In addition, Instaheat heater is very easy to use and it is not difficult to set up at all. You can definitely use this mini ceramic heater right out of the box. All you have to do is attach the heater to any wallplug into the circuit wherever you need some heat, and then adjust the heater to whatever heat level you need.

WHY ARE PORTABLE HEATER BETTER THAN NORMAL HEATER?

According to a recent study, more than 50 percent of energy consumption in European countries is used for heating and cooling. So could the energy from heating technology be used more sensibly? The answer is, “It depends.” “It depends on how efficient the heaters are.”

When temperatures start to drop across Germany, portable heaters could be a helpful warm-up home appliance. With these portable devices, you can provide any room in your home with an effective heat boost.

As the Delta variant becomes more widespread, people may want to spend more time indoors during this cold season, portable heaters can make indoor gatherings more comfortable. In my personal experience, portable heaters are the best way to save money and stay warm.

WHAT ARE THE MAIN PROBLEMS WHEN USING A NORMAL HEATER?

The heater is one of the home appliances for people staying in cold regions. Many people still use large heaters in their homes. However, with traditional heaters, various problems arise, such as:

Bulky heaters have no intelligent functions.

You can’t just move them from one room to another.

Traditional heaters increase monthly bills.

They use a lot of electricity every day.

Bulky heaters make a lot of noise at night.

They contain basic options.

WHY IS Instaheat KNOWN AS THE BEST PORTABLE HEATING IN GERMANY?

While doing this detailed Instaheat review, we came across many Instaheat reviews from consumers and they proved that this is the best portable heater in Germany.

Light and small

The Instaheat is very light and small. Compared to the other portable heaters, the Instaheat is more compact and portable. It takes up less space. This heater is a cordless heater which also contributes to its compactness and smaller footprint.

Extremely portable

Many Instaheat experiences confirm that this portable heater is very easy to transport. You can take it from one place to another with absolutely no problem.

With most heaters, you may have to wait a few hours for the body to cool before you can successfully touch them without burning your fingers. But with this heater, you can easily move it whenever you want, whether it’s just unplugged or not.

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Customizable features

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ciratolivux · 2 years

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derailedfiction · 3 years

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The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 2 Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader | James Barnes & Fem!Reader Word count: 6017 (sorry) Warnigns: swearing, a bit of kissing, shooting Summary: As Reader’s presence is exsposed the only way to get to Zemo is to cooperate with Sam and Bucky.

A/N: Reader is German-speaking which means that ¾ of what she says is in that language. If she speaks with Zemo, one to one, I switched to English (pls pretend it’s still German xD). Also next time I’ll put translations next to German version. It will be easier to read probably.

You grunted as you were seated on a chair, and quickly restrained with a rope around your arms and hands. You scanned the room looking for Zemo but he was nowhere to be found. As your search did not bring you any satisfactory answers, you set your eyes on the other man, expectantly.

“Was kann ich für sie tun?” you asked calmly with a nonchalant smile.

“What?” Sam looked puzzled at James, and back at you. “What does it mean?”

“She asked what she can do for you, Sam,” Zemo answered leaving the bathroom with a bottle of cologne and a towel in his hands.

“Well first of all she can tell what the hell is she doing here,” you observed the dark-skinned man with much amusement. He seemed to be quite annoyed with the situation.

“Warum ist er so verärgert?” you asked Zemo, still carefully observing Sam.

“What?” he asked again, clearly agitated that he did not understand what you were saying.

“She wants to know why you are so annoyed,” Zemo replied, spreading some cologne on his hands and then on his neck with a gentle pat.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” Sam sat down on the couch with a helpless expression.

“Wha–at?” you mocked Sam with a silent laugh. You saw a corner of the Baron’s lip went up for a moment.

“I don’t really understand why the whole world should speak English, Sam. Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch?” Zemo looked at you with a question in his eyes. A similar question was in Sam’s eyes as he desperately wanted to know what was happening.

“Nein, aber ich verstehe was er hat gesagt,” you shifted on the chair you were restrained to.

“She will not speak English, even though she understands you,” Baron translated.

“What do you want?” you felt observant gaze received from James.

“Ihn,” you pointed at Zemo with wide grin. “Ich wollte euch beide zuerst erschießen und ihn dann nehmen.

“She wants me and wanted to kill off the two of you before,” Baron replied emotionlessly.

“That would add up, she had a sniper rife literally next doors,” James said, “Who beat you up like this?” he asked after a moment, pointing at your bruised lip and a black eye.

“Die Wakandanerin. Sie dachte, ich würde sie zu Zemo fuhren. Aber dann hat sie mit dir gesprochen,” you smiled lightly towards James as you thought, it was kind of him to ask about it.

“The Wakandian did it to her as she thought she would lead her to me. Then, the Wakandian has spoken to you, James. It’s quite surprising how fast they sent somebody to fetch me.”

“Is it really?” James looked at him with disbelief. “I bargained us more time to deal with things, so no need to thank me.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo turned from the window and lightly nodded towards James, much to his dismay.

“You killed T’Chaka and now Nagel” Sam echoed, and yet Baron shrugged that information as he would an irritating fly. “How long do you follow us?”

“Seit Madripoor. Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch, Zemo,” you winked at the Sokovian with silent laugh. You were way too much enjoying this questioning.

“She was following us since our visit in Madripoor. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen, Y/N,“ he put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

“Du war recht,” you turned your head to catch glimpse of his figure behind you. The smell of cologne he used was rather intoxicating.

“Is it me, or you two like know each other?”

“Yes, we have worked together before and as I said, I had a feeling that I saw Y/N during the party,” he answered and went to examine kitchen shelves. “She’s one of the best bounty hunters I have known, and it’s a delight that she’s hunting for me now.”

“Man, you have some strange definition of a delight…” Sam stated, crossing his arms. “Why you hunt him now?”

You fell silent for a longer moment not really wanting to tell why.

“Meine Schwester –” you started talking.

“Her sister was kidnapped and is held by someone. She will be released only in exchange for my person,” Zemo translated simultaneously, playing with a cookie on his finger. “She doesn’t know who that is. Y/N only received a video with her sister and information about what she’s supposed to do. If she cannot fulfil the expectations, her sister is going to be killed. Es tut mir sehr leid, Y/N.”

“Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es,” you felt closely examined by him and then he did something most surprising for you.

“I don’t believe she will pose any threat to our cause. I do think that she actually can be quite an asset.”

The three of you looked surprised at Zemo. Sam and James because they both thought dealing with another shady character would be too much. And you because it would make your job so much easier, just to use distraction and snatch Zemo right from their noses.

“Wunderbar! – No!” the three of you exclaimed at the same moment.

“Why not? I would get three watchmen, making sure I would not escape,” he continued undisturbed by your sudden vocalization. “Moreover, Y/N is excellent in hand-to-hand combat and is trained in any kind of weaponry.”

“I don’t even…” Sam started and put his hands in the air as if he surrendered to this whole situation. “I mean, it’s not bad to have additional pair of eyes on Zemo but is it worth it? She’s a criminal too.”

“Right now, we have bigger problems. Karli bombed a GRC supply depot,” James started reading the latest news on his phone.

At that point, you stopped listening to them, as they were deliberating on the subject you were not that much familiar with. Even though Zemo offered a solution for your presence in the team, no one was willing to untie you from the chair. You sat there observing the place carefully, trying to find a perfect way to run away at some point with your prize.

You kept your gaze on Baron for a long moment. He bustled around the kitchen as if he did it every day, without a break of several years in a German prison. Of course, it was impossible for him to forget how the Avengers were responsible for the deaths of his family and yet, it was bizarre for you that he decided to cooperate with them. As you knew him from the past, Zemo would cherish the very thought of destroying this particular group of superheroes, showing them how very human they indeed were. Still, you just witnessed how Baron threw a Turkish delight towards Sam as if he were giving him a treat for a great lead to follow.

“Du starrst, Y/N,” he stated indifferently, handing you some tea.

“Danke,” you thanked him, even though you had no opportunity to drink it. “Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo?”

“Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle,” he answered you and from the look on his face you knew that Baron Zemo had already a plan.

“What are you talking about?” Sam came closer to the two of you.

“Y/N is surprised that I cooperate with someone that I swore to destroy,”

“Well, you can count me in, Y/N,” he replied as he undid the bonds. “One wrong move and you two will be handcuffed to me and James.”

“Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an,” you rubbed your wrists sightly worn from the rough rope and drank tea from Zemo.

“I’m afraid my dear friend that she rather liked that idea,” you winked at Sam coquettishly as he rubbed his face in disbelief.

“Was machen wir jetzt?”

“We are going to ask some questions about Donya’s funeral,” James answered your question, “We gotta move.”

Within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave the apartment, and since James and Sam did not want to take any chances leaving you alone, you were walking in pair with Zemo.

“Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren,” you said to your companion as you walked.

“Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles,” he replied. “Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht?”

“Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier…”

“Man, don’t you worry about what are they talking about? They could be like planning escape or something, to roll us over,” Sam said to Bucky, cautiously observing the two of you in front of him. “It’s just wrong…”

“It’s not, they’re talking about the past. She was gone after Thanos snapped,” Bucky replied quietly, trying not to give up he’s able to understand German. “She’s still quite lost after she got back.”

“Can you blame her? Or anyone in such a situation? It’s pretty fucked up…”

Bucky cracked for a moment listening to your conversation, “She just told him, she would have killed him back in Madripoor and she didn’t just because of their shared past.”

“Damn man, they have some unresolved issues under those smirks and sass.”

You turned around feeling the gazes of the two of them on your back as you were speaking with Zemo. They were walking behind you, keeping a reasonable distance, and talking about something rather lively.

“It is shame of what became of this place,” you rose your eyebrow lightly looking around the small courtyard, which wasn’t in its best condition.

“I’ll go check upstairs. You keep eye on him,” Sam went up for the next floor and you were left alone with James, as Zemo softly humming a lullaby came closer to children.

For a moment two of you stood in silence watching how Baron was approaching children, and then you asked, “Du verstehst mich, oder?”

“A little, yes,” James answered you. If he was surprised how quickly you found out about it, he didn’t show it at all.

“Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst?” you crossed your arms following James’ stare.

“He’s going back to the prison.”

“Und die Wakanderin?” you heard long sigh from him, he did not really know what to do in this situation.

“I’m not sure. Zemo is too dangerous to let him be unsupervised, or to be intercepted by a shady character, no offence.”

“Nicht genommen,” you smiled lightly.

“Now, what the hell is he doing?” Sam came closer to the two of you, seeing the idyllic conversation between Zemo and children.

“Wish you didn’t hear him sing – What?”

“Cute kids,” Zemo said as he passed the three of you heading to the exit.

As you left the CPR facility, you had a feeling that someone was observing you as four of you walked down the street back to the apartment. You observed each passing by person, sensing something was going on.

“Was ist los?”

“Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt,” you replied quickly turning around your head.

“Achtung!” just as you saw the mercenary take out the gun, you pushed Zemo away and took the bullet. A sharp pain tore your arm as you landed on the ground next to Baron looking at you surprised. “Was?”

“Warte,” he took out the knife and tear for pieces your sleeve to create a tourniquet above the wound. “Versuche es zu drücken, Y/N.”

You nodded holding your arm firmly, trying to prevent any further bleeding. On the other side of the road, James was just knocking out the assassin.

“We should move. I don’t want to take any more chances with other killers,” Sam helped you stood up.

“Und der Söldner?” you asked.

“He won’t be conscious for longer time and we will probably be somewhere else. Come.”

Four of you hastily returned to the quarters, making sure no one was following you. Sam and James armed themselves with additional weapons as they wanted to be sure you were safe in there.

“We’ll go and check whether this place is safe. You two stay here, understood?” Sam told you as he went out with James.

You stood in the middle of the room trying to gather yourself to do something with the wound you have been pressing. You took few steps towards the bar and made yourself two drinks, one of which you immediately drank.

“Now, take these, it will help with the pain.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you took the pills from Zemo and swallowed them with few sips of whiskey. “Now, if you allow, I’d like to take care of this,” you pointed at your arm wound, as you slowly went to the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

As you were finally alone without any sympathetic or wanting-to-help gazes, you sighed loudly and quite shakily. It was not your first time being shot, and honestly, you knew that having Zemo around and babysitting him for not to get killed, would mean more bullets to take.

You sat down on with tiles of the floor, observing how blood was slowly dropping on it creating a small plash. You moved your fingers carefully, trying to determine whether some muscles or tendons were damaged. It hurt badly. Burning pain ran through your whole hand up to the arm wound.

“Fuck,” you whined quietly, and you rested your head over the edge of the bath.

That was not the plan at all. At last, the pills you got were starting to work as your pulsating pain did not bother you anymore. Slowly with the biggest caution, you could have at that moment, you removed the makeshift bandage and examined the wound. It was still bleeding, rather profusely, despite the pressure band over the injury. The longer you stared at it, the more light-headed you felt.

You heard somebody opened the door and Zemo entered the bathroom. You had not had enough power to say something sarcastic about his way of respecting somebody’s privacy.

“What are you doing? I don’t need any help,” you observed Zemo as he sat next to you with a first aid kit.

“I’m not going to do anything. But you might need this if you really want to take care of the wound,” you snorted and took the kit. “Why did you do that? Why did you take a bullet for me?”

“Does it really matter?” as you heard nothing from the man, you looked up and saw Baron watching you expectantly. “I must deliver you alive if I want my sister to stay alive,” you answered hesitantly, cleaning the wound.

“It is admirable how dedicated you are to your sister, Y/N.”

“Is it though? If not her I would be free as wind getting other shady figures for actual money. Not to mention that it was not, the plan,” you scoffed and gritted your teeth as the wound began to burn hellishly.

“I would do anything to save my family.”

“I know Zemo, I know it,” you agreed looking at him softly, and then you sighed heavily. “I will need your help with it. I thought the bullet went clean through, but I can’t see any exit wound.”

“How could you not know it?” he asked in growing amusement.

“I don’t know man. I am high as kite, Zemo. I don’t really feel that much,” you looked blankly at the hole in your arm for a moment before you gave him a pair of forceps. “I will cut the wound from both sides and you have to take the bullet out, got it?” He nodded in agreement.

You proceeded with careful cuts along the edge of the wound, as precise as you could. You took a deeper breath and nodded for Zemo to try and retrieve the bullet. Even though you were on strong painkillers, it was almost impossible to not move or whine.

“Don’t move, Y/N. I almost have it,” you grabbed the bath edge firmly trying not to shift any more.

“Easy to say… Fuc–” a cry of pain escaped your mouth in the same moment as the bullet was taken out. “Oh, God that was awful. I will never get used to it. Thank you,” shakily you reached for a needle and thread to close the wound.

“Let me,” he took over the instruments and without further ado, he quickly stitched the wound and put a fresh bandage over it.

“Hey! You alive in there? We heard some screaming,” you heard Sam from the other side of the bathroom door and lightly smiled.

“Yes, it’s alright,” Zemo answered as he helped you to stand up from the floor.

“He cares, doesn’t he? Even if you did him wrong, he cares.”

“Yes, he does,” Sokovian agreed. Still supporting you, he led you to the sofa, on which you fell with relief as you were feeling more and more dizzy. “Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren.”

“Yeah, yeah, was auch immer,” you weaved him off impatiently and laid down with your feet up.

You felt absolutely awkward that you got yourself shot because you pushed Zemo to the side. It was probably one of the dumbest things you have ever done. Well, if you counted being caught by Winter Soldier, that is the other dumbest thing you did. It was not your best day at all. You heard somebody was clamouring in the kitchen pouring water into a kettle and then into small cups.

“How are you?” You looked at James, who asked you the question.

“Gut,” you replied shortly, taking the cup of tea from Zemo. You felt in fact a bit better as the medications you were given truly kicked in.

You pressed yourself deeper into the sofa with your eyes closed, trying to rest for a while. You disconnected completely from external stimuli, focusing on your breathing, and calming the heartbeat. Even though you lost some blood, you didn’t feel that bad.

Suddenly you heard the sound of breaking glass and louder exchanges. You opened your eyes and looked at Zemo surprised as the Americans went dealing with their things.

“You can’t play with others, can you?” you asked with a soft chuckle making him some space on the sofa to sit. “I know you probably have some plan but still, being followed by the Wakandians, and bounty hunters, and probably some other killers it’s not an easy thing to cope with.”

“You think I need protection?” you showed off your arm. “I don’t need any, I am perfectly able to use my mind to gain in every situation.”

“I’m just saying that playing on different fronts at the same time always ends rather badly,” you finished off your tea and put the glass on the table.

“What can I say, I am a wanted man,” you snorted lightly at his words. He was truly the most wanted man at the moment.

“What was that tea again?”

“Cherry blossom, why?”

“I feel – dizzy,” you said unsure. You looked at the glass and at him, and then back at the glass. And then it clicked. “You little –”

“Shh, mein Schätzchen,” he immediately caught your falling head and swiftly stood up, making a place for you to lay down. “You will sleep for some time.”

You felt so heavy and dizzy, you had no power to fight with him. The last thing you saw was Zemo unfolding a blanket and putting it over you.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing Sam, she just fell asleep after the pills I gave her to ease the pain,” Zemo lied without a blink of an eye and made sure you were comfortably sleeping. “We should probably move.”

***

You woke up sometime later, just as Zemo said. What he didn’t mention was an extreme headache you got as soon as you opened your eyes.

“What a fucker…” you murmured as you got up from the sofa, throwing the blanket on the side. How thoughtful, you thought ironically looking at the material.

There was no one in the apartment and as you figured out, they have probably been gone for the funeral ceremony to talk with Karli. You moaned softly, rubbing your temples in hope that the pain will go away. It didn’t do anything and bright light coming through the stained windows wasn’t especially helpful either.

You wandered around the room and kitchen to find some painkillers. You suspiciously sniffled tea in a small metal box, still remembering what Zemo did. As you thought about it, if he didn’t get into a quarrel with James all of them would be asleep and Zemo would have been far away. A perfect getaway.

“Rather shameful not to carry it to the end,” you said to yourself washing down the painkiller with a drink. But then again, it was Zemo considered so he probably saw another opportunity for him to run away.

As slowly the painkillers once again started to work, you decided to go back to your rented room and take your belongings. It was hard to guess when your company would be back and you didn’t want to risk them, at least James and Sam, discovering you were gone, and the hideout was left unsupervised. But then again, you shrugged your arms carelessly it was not your responsibility to look after it.

You poured water into a kettle and put it on the burner of the stove. I’ll be back before the water boils, you thought and took one Turkish delight on your way out.

In fact, you got back just in time to take the kettle off the heat and make some tea for yourself and you started to explore the residence in search of some clothes to change. You did not really think it would take that much time to extract Zemo. It was supposed to be a day, give, or take. The whole situation of you being captured and somehow kept hostage was not included in the plan.

You took off your torn blouse and dropped it on the floor, in search of something new to wear. You looked through one of the few wardrobes that had any clothes in it. Mostly male, but you also found a few dresses and children's clothes. As tempting as it was to wear one of the dresses, you felt it would be somehow a sacrilege to wear Zemo’s wife clothes. Instead, you chose one of his purple shirts and tried it on. It would suit you nicely if not the zip across the chest which was a bit tight, so you had to keep it slightly unzipped.

You returned to the kitchen, finding yourself extremely hungry if not ravenous. Eating more Turkish delight would do no good either, as they were extremely sweet. Rummaging through kitchen cabinets you found ingredients to make a stew and you thought everyone could eat something warm. You quickly chopped some vegetables and put them in a ceramic casserole along with meat and seasoning. Now all you had to do was to wait and control if it’s not burning.

“Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern,” you heard suddenly as you were checking up the food in the stove.

“Danke,” you kept your smile for yourself and you turned around to see three men coming in. Zemo went straight for a piece of cloth and wet it in ice-cold water, which he put over his eyes as soon as he lied on the sofa.

“I thought you would be gone, the second you wake up,” Sam was rather surprised to see you casually cooking.

“Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel,” you took out the stew out of the oven and put it on the counter.

“And you made us food?” you took four plates out of the cupboard and put them on the table along with silverware.

“Ja, warum nicht?” you were quite content of yourself as the food smelled wonderful and you took pleasure in cooking it. You missed your domestic life dearly especially knowing it was impossible to get it back.

“Das ist sehr nett von dir, Y/N,” you muttered under your nose to his words and poured him some bourbon. Zemo looked as you could use some.

„Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir, Zemo,” you replied angrily, handing him the drink as he lied on the sofa with cold patch over his head. „Was ist mir dir passiert? Bitte essen.”

With the move of your hand, you showed Sam and James to sit at the table and eat what you have prepared.

“She invites you to eat,” he translated, slowly drinking his bourbon. “Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich ,” he then replied to your question and removed the compress.

“Was?” you chuckled at the mere thought of him being knocked out like this. “Komm, du muss auch essen.” You encouraged Zemo to join the Americans at the table and eat together.

The four of you sat awkwardly at the table as you were putting food on the plates and handing them over to each of them.

“So, Sam would you consider taking the serum if you were offered it? Hypothetically speaking, of course,” you said nothing just rolling your eyes internally. What a perfect question to ask at the table.

“No,” he cut it shortly between the bites.

“No hesitation? That’s admirable.”

You looked at James sitting quietly as you and eating. You sensed he was still tormented by his past and listening to them hypothetically speaking about taking or not the super-solider serum was uneasy. You felt sorry for him being used as a pawn in other’s men fight. Living without the ability to decide what to do must be haunting, let alone the knowledge of your forced actions.

“Danke,” you heard from him as he finished eating.

“Gern geschehen,” you couldn’t help but to give him a warm smile and watched him go to another room to get some rest. He was still bothered by his past and even though he tried his best to make it go away, it did not work as he wished it to work.

Zemo as he finished, also stood up but helped you with cleaning the table and putting dishes into a dishwasher. Then once more he retrieved to his favourite, horizontal position on the sofa with another drink and cold compress. Unfortunately, his rest didn’t last long as two men stormed into the apartment.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over,” Walker said authoritarian pointing at Zemo.

“Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth,” Sam confronted him as everyone tensed up for inevitable conflict. “He’s actually proven himself useful today.”

“Who is she?” Walker pointed at you rudely as soon as he was denied getting Zemo.

“Temporal associate,” you heard Sam answering in your favour.

“Another criminal? You two are just falling down as you collaborate with such people,” he summed that up in his pretentious, all-knowing manner. He looked at you for a moment. “John Walker, Captain America.”

“Ich weiß das,” you muttered to him.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” you heard Walker scoffing.

“You know, people can use different languages too, Walker. Maybe learn another?”

“That’s how it’s going to be, Sam? Should I put my shield down, to make it fair?” Sam smiled lightly with disbelief. That man was insufferable.

The atmosphere was tense, and it was seconds away for Sam and Walker to start the fight. It was postponed for a while only due to a sudden appearance of a spear that stuck into the column right next to Walker’s head. The Dora Milaje arrived, and they had no fucks to give.

The leader of them start talking with James in Wakandian, and you knew it was the time they wanted to get Zemo to pay for what he has done.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.”

Is he dense or something?, you thought looking at how thoughtlessly his actions were. Even you knew not to disregard Dora Milaje nor to interfere in their businesses, and he was going straight into it. You saw his partner being a bit agitated by the sudden entrance of warriors.

“Sagt er das jedes Mal, wenn er sich vorstellt?” you snorted watching how Walker was trying to talk reason to the Wakandian, and even you knew it was one of the stupidest things he could do.

“Yep,” James said pouring himself a drink.

As you have foreseen second after John’s hand was on Dora Milaje’s arm he was doomed as three of them attacked him and Lemar.

“Are we going to do something about it?” Sam asked James, who took quite a pleasure observing the fight.

“Looking strong, John,” he shouted back at the fighting men.

You could not help it as a short laugh escape your mouth. It did not take long for Sam to join the quarrel and shortly after James followed him.

As Falcon and Winter Soldier came into the fight, you approached Zemo and asked, “Should I also fight them as your champion? To get the right to, have you?” you smiled cheekily over your whisky.

“You can have me any moment, you want Y/N,” you choked on your drink. “Now, if you excuse me.”

You watched him taking a bottle of alcohol and aggressively zeroed his glass. Then undisturbed by anyone he went to the bathroom and just before closing the door, your eyes meet. You perfectly knew Zemo was escaping and all you did was to raise your glass towards him and finish your drink.

That’s going to be fun, you thought pouring another glass of whiskey, watching how everyone is getting their asses whooped.

***

“How could you let him go?” you held up your arms in a gesture of ineffable incomprehension of your act.

“C’mon man, it’s not that we need him that much now. We must focus on our mission, Bucky. I know it’s hard for you, I know it, but we can’t blow it away,” Sam put his hand on James’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, trying to reassure and comfort him.

“I helped him escape from Berlin that was enough for Dora Milaje,” James said sternly and stopped in front of the building they had set up a meeting in. “You can’t go in, Y/N, two of us is already too many.”

“Klar,” you agreed and watched them go inside the beast’s belly.

You walked down the street, heading to a small square located in this part of Riga. You surprisingly found yourself enjoying this short stroll without anyone to interrupt you or anyone to chase after. Quite a lovely vacation you could have had. You liked this city as it had interesting history and architecture that survived Second World War.

The fountain in the middle of the square was captivating and a lot of tourists were taking pictures of it. You were surprised that despite incidents caused by your company, there were organised groups and sightseeing tours. You admired the monument for a longer while until you noticed something on the opposite side of it.

“I thought you would be far away from here,” you approached slowly Zemo, standing in the shadow.

“I thought about it but then again I feel somewhat responsible for how everybody jumped to each other’s throats just to be able to get me.”

“Isn’t that what you are famous for? And don’t tell me you feel bad about it,” he looked at you and smirked.

“Bad, no but it’s rather tiresome for me. I don’t really take any joy from it,” Zemo hesitated for a second and you could tell he dropped some part of his act. You could have seen the very broken man who was the reason for the Avengers split. “Why not a dress?”

“What?” you were taken by surprise with his question.

“There were few dresses in the closet, and you decided to take my shirt,” you looked at Zemo frowning.

“I won’t do anything to it, if that’s what you mean,” you tried to laugh it off, but it wasn’t successful. “I thought it would have been strange to wear your wife’s.”

“I wouldn’t mind if someone could do a good use of them,” he smiled sadly. “Anyway, I enjoyed your company today. It reminded me of your visits when I was imprisoned.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring blankly at the pavement. That was quite charming of him and you smirked at this thought.

“Yes, me – ” you stopped talking at the sudden sound of breaking glass and crushing metal.

In front of you two men were fighting, of which one was much more superior. You watched Walker throwing his shield again and again at the man, treating him like a training bag.

What the actual fuck, you thought as you heard other man pleading for his life, but Walker was out. He didn’t hear him nor listen to him, there was something more going on. He put the shield up, above his head and allowed his rage to take control over him. Walker repeatedly smashed the head of the poor man several times with his shield and then he stood with it.

Unmoved. Triumphant in his imagination. Covered in blood splashes. And the shield bathed in bloody strains shimmered ominously. The new era of superheroes has arrived in its brutal glory. Unstoppable. Utterly frightening.

“Jesus and that is how Captain America deal with things now?” you couldn’t believe your own eyes, as Walker murdered a man in daylight. “Now, I can see more vivid than ever why super-soldiers pose a threat to the order.”

“The whole world is watching, and they know what he did. He will be never forgiven for such a barbaric act. Previous Captain America stood for what the US wanted to be, righteous and good. This one, he’s … he’s what America is like. Brutal and not afraid to kill anyone who wronged it,” you listened to Zemo seeing how every single one of passing by people were with a phone, recording or even streaming live this whole situation.

“Where are you going now?” you looked at him for a moment, still cautiously monitoring the surroundings, trying to digest the terrifying view.

“Sokovia, or rather to what is left of it…” Zemo answered looking plainly before himself. “Will you give me a week?”

“I will give you two days tops before I go after you again, Zemo.”

“Good enough,” he smiled lightly and looked at you. “Don’t you want to come with me?”

“Nah, I’m good. I want to be around here and see how this will develop.”

All of sudden he caught your chin and moved it up, and then kissed you gently. You stood in awe, trying to figure out what on earth was going on, as you were not completely over that you have witnessed Captain America going apeshit. But after a moment of suspension, you kissed him back.

“Care to explain?” you asked as you separated from the kiss.

“People tend to feel uncomfortable when they see a kissing couple and I didn’t want to be filmed,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t want Sam nor James to find me before I want to be found.”

“People or you wanted me to feel uncomfortable?” it felt strange but in a good way. You only hoped that he wasn’t trying to play with you as well as he did with others.

“And are you?” you rolled your eyes with a groan. He was acting impossible. As he managed to temporarily escape his guards, Zemo was probably going to be even more of himself than he already was.

“I will see you in two days, Zemo.”

“That’s the plan,” he smirked and disappeared into the crowd.

________________________________________________________ German vocab.: Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch? – Oh my God, Y/N, can’t you really speak English? Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch. – By the way, your dancing was ridiculous. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen. – I thought, I have seen you there. Du war recht – You were right.Es tut mir sehr leid. – I’m very sorry.Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es. – Stop it now, Zemo. You only take care of yourself and to destroy super soldiers. That's it.Wunderbar! – Wonderful. Du starrst. – You are staring. Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo? – I know you and am still surprised how you treat these men. Aren't they your enemies, Zemo? Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle. – Right now, they are useful. That's all. Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an. – That doesn't sound too bad. Was machen wir jetzt? – What are we going to do? Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren – I'm surprised you didn't try to lose them between cities. Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles – Well, like I said, they're a means to an end, that's all. Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht? – What have you been doing in the last few years? Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier… - Nothing special, but I was gone for 5 years because of the Snap. Now I'm here… Du verstehst mich? – You understand me, yes? Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst? – What are you going to do with him? When you no longer need him? Und die Wakanderin? – And the Wakandian? Nicht genommen – Non taken. Was ist los? – What’s going on? Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. – Nothing now but I think someone is following us. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt – The power broker sent man after the three of you. Achtung! – Watch out! Warte. Versuche es zu drücken – Hold on. Try to push it. Und der Söldner? – And the mercenary? Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren – You should take a rest. You lost a lot of blood. Yeah, yeah, was auch immer. – Yeah, whatever. Gut – good Mein Schätzchen – darling Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern – You look good in my clothes Danke – Thanks Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel – Why? I have to intercept him. He is my target. Ja, warum nicht? – Yes, why not? Das ist sehr nett von dir – That’s nice of you Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir – And knocking me out wasn’t very thoughtful of you Was ist mir dir passiert? – What have happened to you? Bitte essen – please eat Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich – The new Captain America threw his shield at me. Was? – What? Komm, du muss auch essen – Come, you too should eat. Gern geschehen – You’re welcome Klar - Clear

#zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #sam wilson #james bucky barnes #john walker #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo

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harryspet · 4 years

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obedience | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x named oc, murder, and violence, non/dubcon oral and vaginal, outdoor sex, kidnapping, p/e/t play elements, bad google translate, implied agegap, mater/pet, lots of buildup, Stockholm syndrome(?)

A/N: I’ve been writing a bunch of Peter and Harry and kind of wanted to take a little break! This pretty much post endgame bucky. Sorry for any story inaccuracies! TRIGGER CONTENT AHEAD SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Bucky kills her family of former Hydra members before taking her home as his pet.

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 4.4k

Sam wanted him to let things go. Move on and focus on something else, he said. Sam thought it would be impossible to find any of them since it had been years since they were active members. The snap had given them a big enough distraction to escape. Bucky didn’t think it was fair that they could just disappear, change their names, and get to live another day after the destruction they had caused.

Accept, they couldn’t stay hidden for long. It took months but Bucky finally tracked the small family to Manhattan. The German immigrants thought they could hide within the millions of citizens in the New York borough. They made several mistakes though only because they couldn’t get rid of the luxury they were used to. The daughter had a driver and bodyguard that took her to and from her private school.

Bucky had cyberstalked her through her Instagram. The eighteen-year-old Senior posted a lot under the alias, Mina, that her parents had most likely given her. The Vogt family had turned into the Bradford’s of Manhattan’s elite class. The daughter didn’t go anywhere without her bodyguard, at least, that’s what her parents thought. Bucky noticed how she snuck out on Friday’s at the same time every week.

How reckless could she be? Her parents are on the most wanted list in eight different countries. Teenage love was the only answer. Bucky saw the boy she met up with, a poor rockstar type, that gave her that rush of dopamine she desperately needed.

Poor little rich girl.

Bucky purposely bumped into her while the couple was waiting for the subway, “Watch where you’re going, dude,” The boy spoke in a thick Queens accent. Her purse dropped and, because Bucky was dressed like a respectable man of society, the girl let him pick it up and hand it back to her. Their eyes met for a long moment and Bucky thought for a moment she was lost in his blue eyes.

“Sorry about that, you two have a goodnight,” Bucky faked a smile as he walked away, tucking the girl’s apartment key into his coat.

“Old creep, he was definitely checking you out,” Bucky heard as he walked away, a stoic look of determination on his face.

Mina woke up frightened. She panted, looking around in the dark for the monster that was in her nightmare. Those striking blue eyes looked into the depths of her soul. Brandon had said the man was checking her out but he didn’t see what she saw. Hate. That man didn’t even know her and yet he hated her.

Looking out the window across the room, Mina could clearly see the lights of the Manhattan Bridge. When they first moved here, her mother promised she would have an even better view than the master bedroom. They were still trying to get her to not be so upset about the move. Mina pulled back the fabric of her heavy duvet and decided she’d go downstairs to get some water. Her bare feet padded across the white carpet and she opened the doors that led into the hallway.

As she walked down the hall, someone appeared around the corner, “What are you doing up so late, Miss Mina?” The maid asked, her hands full of towels that she was carrying to the linen closet.

The maid looked over her, sweaty with tangled hair, clad in her polka-dotted robe and nightgown, “Just getting some water. I had a bad dream.”

The maid held out her hand, urging her to stop, “I can bring you some warm milk and cookies, you should go back to your room,” Something changed in the older woman’s eyes. If Mina wasn’t so tired, she might’ve thought the maid was warning her.

“It’s okay,” Mina insisted, stepping forward, “You work too much-”

Before Mina could even step forward, the maid collapsed on her side. Blood splattered against the wall and Mina thought she saw pieces of her brain. A bullet had come from down the hall Mina was about to turn on to. Mina covered her mouth, backing away, as the man from the subway stepped around the corner.

No mask. He didn’t plan on letting her leave alive.

Mina hurried backward, towards her room, but the man took off after her. As her fingers curled around the door handle, she felt metal wrap around her upper arm. She screamed loud, a piercing scream even louder than the gunshot, as she struggled against him.

The man didn’t speak, just pressed the long tipped gun against the side of her head, “P-Please, please, don’t kill me,” She stuttered out, shutting her eyes shut tight, “Please!”

“Scream one more time and I’ll kill you,” The man jerked her away from the door. The man pulled her back towards the maid’s dead body and down the hall, he came from. Mina’s knees were so weak that she was struggling to walk beside him. She let out a whimper as she was forced to step over the maid’s body.

“W-Why are you doing this?”

It couldn’t be because of the rude thing Brandon said, right? This was too insane for that.

He had killed someone. Killed.

The man dragged her into the room she knew as her father’s office. And despite the man’s order, Mina screamed again. Her mother was bleeding from her abdomen, laying flat on the old rug in front of his desk. The man let go of her arm and Mina ran to her.

He killed her mother.

As Mina touched her mother, she realized there was no life left in her.

Her father was still alive, just bent over and handcuffed to his coffee table, “sie ist tot,” She heard her father say, his thick German accent coming through, “She’s dead. Thank the Winter Soldier for that.”

Mina looked up at the man standing over them, her face covered in tears, “Papa?” Her lips trembling, “W-What’s happening?”

Her father didn’t answer as he looked down, talking to himself, “Mashina. Belyy. Doroga. Svecha. Nebo …” He was spouting off random words in Russian and her anger and frustration only grew.

The man stepped forward, slamming her father’s head into the table, “I’m not your puppet anymore, Vogt,” Her father laughed, blood dripping down his face.

“I like your new haircut, Winter Soldier,” Her father teased which only resulted in a punch across the face, “It suits you.”

“Papa!” She shouted to him, wanting him to stop antagonizing. His wife was dead and his daughter was at gunpoint yet he was teasing the man? “Please stop hurting him!”

The man finally looked at her, “Your daughter is beautiful, Frank. Is that what you get when you make them in labs?”

Frank? That was not her father’s name.

“What is it that you want? Money? Being Captain America’s best friend not pay much?”

Bucky tried not to show any emotion but becoming Bucky instead of Winter Soldier had its problems. He was still getting used to showing emotion.

“I want you dead. For every single death that you cause. For the years of my life that you stole.”

Frank shook his head, “Don’t give me the bad guy/good guy spiel. Name your price, Barnes.”

Bucky scowled, tucking away his gun, “What if I said I wanted your daughter?” The girl's eyes widened, still holding onto her dead mother.

“Papa?” Her father didn’t answer.

“I know what you think, Barnes, but I am not monster,” Frank spoke calmly. Too calmly, “I can give you my contacts, other members who escaped.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the man, “Give me an example, a name, and I’ll decide if it’s worth it.”

“... Viktor Vanzin,” Bucky grinned, pulling out his pocket knife.

“You’re lying,” Bucky had killed that man himself. That meant Frank was truly out of the loop, “I want your daughter. A life for a life.”

“She’s innocent,” Frank continued.

“So was I,” Bucky countered, waiting for a response.

“Okay, Barnes. Life for a life,” As Frank finally nodded yes, Bucky thought the girl might faint. She went completely still, her heart completely broken. Bucky almost felt bad but he was really doing her a favor.

“You evil fucking bastard,” Bucky cursed, moving behind the man and wrapping his arm around the man’s neck. Frank struggled as Bucky drove the knife several times into his stomach. He wanted him to slowly bleed out, to suffer. The man slumped back over the table, coughing up blood.

He spoke his last words to her, “I-I’m s-sorry, schatz.”

Treasure.

She fainted.

Mina awoke on a thin mattress in a cold room. She reached to clutch her robe but only found her thin, blue nightgown. She wrapped her arms around herself, the sound of her heart pounding flooding her ears, before quickly sitting up. She regretted it instantly, gaining a headache quickly.

She looked around and found now windows. The walls were a boring beige and there were absolutely no decorations. Only one wooden chair in the corner. Bucky heard the commotion and walked into the room a few moments later. He found her standing, pacing around the locked room.

He expected her to be angry, to shout at him, but instead, he watched eyes well up with tears. He much rather she is angry then have to watch her cry, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“You want to be in the afterlife with those evil people?”

“I-I’m evil too, remember?” She choked on her sobs. She remembered how her father was willing to give her over to this man in a trade for his life. She remembered how he died anyways and she was taken by this man too.

“I haven’t decided that.”

“I know they must’ve done something bad to you but they … t-they were my parents,” She struggled to speak, “They loved me. Doesn’t that show some kind of humanity?”

Bucky leaned back against the door, fingers brushing through his beard as he thought, “You truly don’t know who they really were?” She was silent, “They were top scientists for Hydra. They’re responsible for thousands of deaths and you … they lied to you.”

She shook her head, “No, they work in finances. They could never do that.”

“I think your father showed you his true colors in his final moments. If that doesn’t convince you then I don’t know what will.”

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

Bucky leaned forward, “So, even in death, they can look at you from the other side and feel no peace.”

“Please … please just kill me.”

“Where’s the fun in that, my little treasure?”

Mina hated her parents.

She loved them because they were her parents and hated them because they were the reason this happened to her. She would never see them again, never see Manhattan or Brandon ever again.

When Bucky walked into the small room later that day, he had a black box as well as a tray of food. Mina held her knees to her chest, staring at the wall, “Leave me alone.”

Bucky sighed, “I think you’re gonna need your strength,” Out of the corner of her eyes she could see his shirt was short-sleeved, his metal arm fully exposed. He set down the tray by her sad excuse of a bed.

He waited but she didn’t move. Bucky gently placed down the box before moving towards her. She flinched away from him but he grabbed her leg, pulling her flat on her back, “No, don’t! Please don’t!” His metal arm wrapped around her throat and with a swift movement, he ripped off her nightgown. She was weeping again as he did the same with her bra and panties. She grabbed at his arm which was completely useless.

When he was done, Bucky stood up, watching as she scrambled to cover up with her arms, “You’re sick!”

Bucky tossed the remnant to the side, “Good girls get to wear clothes. Eat and I’ll think about getting you some clothes. I’m in control here, I won’t put up with your tantrums,” Mina stared at him and Bucky was relieved that she was scowling at him instead of crying, “Eat.”

Mina flinched at the sound of his voice but moved forward. It was heated up canned soup and a plastic cup of water. She was glad that he splurged on her. Sitting on her knees, she covered her breast with one hand and moved the plastic spoon with her other hand.

It was lukewarm and not that appetizing but she ate most of it. Bucky had pulled the wooden chair closer and taken a seat, “C-Can I have clothes now?” Her face was completely red and, now, she found it hard to even look at him.

“I’ll think about it in a few days,” Bucky answered simply, and, as it were even possible, her face fell even more, “Considering your reaction, it seems like a good punishment.”

“Why do you want to punish me?” Mina asked, her voice timid. Was not taking her from her family enough?

“Oh, doll,” Bucky’s face softened as he leaned forward in the chair, “I don’t want to punish you but you won’t be obedient otherwise.”

To Bucky, she was a prize. A product of all that he had done and all that he had overcome to get to this point. He had survived her parents and now he owned their lives as well as their daughters. He’d spit on their graves by making her loyal and obedient to him.

“If I promise to behave, can I have some clothes?” Bucky grinned, thinking she was smarter than she looked.

Bucky’s eyes went to the black box and he swiftly picked it up, “I have something else for you to wear. A temporary one until you graduate.”

“Graduate?”

“I’m thinking of calling it Bucky’s Reformatory School for Troubled Little Girls,” She couldn’t tell if he was joking but he seemed very proud of the name he came up with. He opened the box, pulling out a plain black collar with a single silver loop, “Crawl over here, pet. Let me put it on you.”

“Mr. Barnes, please-”

“Call me Master.”

It took Mina two months to even earn a pair of panties. And the panties he chose for her were skimpy, to say the least.

Mina was used to being naked now and she was almost used to Bucky. He insisted on complete order in his house. They woke up at the same time every day, ate breakfast, Bucky went off probably to murder people and came back in the afternoon to torture her.

That morning, she sat at his feet, eating her breakfast from a plate on the floor. Apparently, she wasn’t allowed the luxury of eating at the table or even sleeping in an actual bed. It was her job to make the food, the way he taught her, and she wasn’t even allowed to enjoy it.

She wasn’t sure exactly where this rustic house was and Bucky didn’t care to answer questions like that. It wasn’t like anywhere she had lived when she was growing up. Though it wasn’t the biggest it was quite homey and somewhere she probably would’ve liked if she weren’t stuck here. The place had a big porch and there were trees surrounding most of the property except for a pond she noticed one time.

Bucky was going through his computer, looking at codes Mina couldn’t understand. It probably had something to do with whatever mission he had to go on today.

Mina itched at her collar, a reminder that she was not yet perfect to Bucky.

“Mina,” She looked up quickly. Every time she heard him say her name she hoped he’d say something along the lines of giving her freedom. It made her think about what would happen if she was free. Where would she even go? She didn’t have any more family and she’d be surprised if Brandon hadn’t forgotten all about her, “Dishes.”

She gave him a solemn look, standing up with her plate in her hand. She grabbed his too and she felt his eyes over her body. He seemed to resist his urges well. Mina knew he desired to touch her and it would be a matter of time before he violated her that way.

She walked the dirty dishes over to the sink, still feeling his eyes on her as he sat at the kitchen table, “Do you want to do something fun today, pet?”

“What do you mean, Master?”

She heard his chair creak as he rose from his seat, “We’ll go into town. We’re in dire need of groceries.”

Bucky watched her carefully, wanting to see her reaction. This was all another test, of course, to see if he could trust her out in public.

She turned her head and Mina almost smiled for the first time in a long time. He moved behind her and Mina focused back on the dishes, “Yes, yes, that would be very nice.” He smacked her hard on her bottom and Mina winced, “I mean yes, Master.”

She felt his body heat on her skin as she turned off the water, setting the dishes into a drying rack. As she turned around, Bucky grabbed her by her neck. Luckily for her, it wasn’t the metal one, “You’d be very grateful to me, right?”

Mina nodded as best as she could, forced to look into his eyes, “What would you do to thank me?”

Mina hesitated but not for long as she felt his hand tighten, “Whatever you want, Master.”

Bucky smirked, “Hmm, and if I wanted your lips around my cock? What would you say?”

He loved this, watching her squirm. She actually thought about it and she wasn’t strong enough to defy this. Throughout this whole process, she thought she’d be stronger than this. All she knew is she’d do anything to escape this house, “I … I-If that’s what you wanted, Master.”

The accomplished look on his face told her enough, “Let’s get dressed then.”

The drive from the house in Bucky’s truck was shorter than she expected. That told her that she wasn't as far away from civilization as she originally thought. She watched all the road signs but she still couldn’t quite tell where she was. It looked to be maybe that they were in the South by the type of trees.

It seemed to be a very small town with one main street and a few more buildings.

She was wearing a pair of regular jeans that were a little too big for her and a black hoodie that only partially hid the collar. It was another reminder that she was not a regular person anymore. Perhaps she never was.

Bucky grabbed her hand as they walked into the practically empty Piggly Wiggly. He grabbed a cart with his other hand, greeting one of the old ladies behind the cash register.

She was not to talk to anyone unless they addressed her and Bucky would kill anyone that she tried to ask for help. Violently, he made sure to add.

She tried her best to enjoy what little freedom she had but her mind kept wandering back to what she had “promised” Bucky she’d do in return for this outing.

“Can we get something to eat?” She blurted out, before whispering, “Master.”

Bucky thought for a moment, pointing out the brand of Milk he wanted, waiting for her to fetch it for him.

“Want to spend even more time in my company?” She scowled on the inside but nodded anyway.

Bucky chose a diner on the edge of town and they seemed to get stares from everyone inside as they walked in and chose their booth. Bucky looked around as if he wasn't used to being in places like this either.

Bucky asked her what she wanted so he could order her, avoiding as much human contact as possible, “ … and a chocolate milkshake.”

“That might cost you extra later, Mina,” Her lips pressed down into a thin line.

“Whatever you wish, Bucky,” It was brave, saying that when he couldn’t reprimand her. Bucky smirked, knowing what she was doing.

Bucky proceeded to order for them, including the milkshake she wanted, “Can I use the bathroom?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Do you think I was born yesterday?” Quite the opposite, she thought.

Mina slouched back in her seat. It was only recently that she looked at him and actually thought he was attractive. Maybe they would’ve worked together if he weren’t so cruel.

“Maybe if I pee my pants, someone will notice and-”

“Mina,” He practically growled her name, “Don’t ruin this opportunity I’m giving you.”

As the waitress approached with their food, Mina slowly slid the knife on the table into her lap and then the pocket of her sweatshirt. Bucky actually smiled at the waitress and she seemed to swoon.

Mina enjoyed her milkshake and the two sat quietly for most of the meal. Bucky watched as she devoured her food and felt a little bit better about rewarding her. It had been a long two months but she was coming along a few more months, and she wouldn’t have a single thought that didn’t involve making Bucky happy.

He grabbed her hand as they both went up to pay the check, “You two are a lovely couple,” Mina didn’t even react and the woman only smiled awkwardly, “Have a good night.”

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Master.”

Bucky could sense the tension between the two of them growing as they got into his car. As they traveled down the dirt road, a feeling swept over both of them. A feeling of knowing and worry. Bucky put the car in park, sighing, “You’re clever but not clever enough, Mina.”

Mina froze, “Give me the knife. I won’t ask again.” Bucky’s words were sharp, demanding.

Mina reached into her pocket and gripped the knife. As quickly as she could and with as much force as she could muster, she shoved into him. It only entered a few centimeters into the right of his chest but the motion stunned him. Mina opened her door and jumped out.

It was one last valiant effort at her freedom. Bucky’s chest rumbled with anger as he opened his own door, causing it to almost fall off its hinges. He chased her as she ran into the treeline. Bucky was unnaturally fast and she was only a few seconds ahead of him.

She didn’t even make it thirty feet before a metal arm wrapped around her waist and through her small body over his shoulder. She fought with the last of the strength she had as he brought her back over to the truck.

“You have no one,” he threw her body down, pinning her against the front side of the truck, “No one except for me. Do you understand that?”

She nodded, trying to ease his wrath. He was bleeding, she could see it seeping through the plaid of his shirt, “No one else who’s going to give a shit about whether you live or die.”

“I’m sorry,” She whimpered but it wasn’t enough.

By her shoulder, he forced her down to the ground. She didn’t move as he began to undo his jeans. She closed her eyes but Bucky roughly grabbed her chin, “Look at me!” She did as his erection sprang from his underwear. It pressed against her closed lips, “Open.”

Whatever gentleness he was previously going to give her was gone. He shoved his erection inside her mouth, instantly making her gag with how deep it went.

He groaned as he moved inside her with animalistic lust. Saliva dripped down her chin and her eyes filled with tears from the lack of oxygen. He even pinched her nose shut to torture her further.

She’d grab onto his thighs for some sort of balance and he’d simply push away her hands, using her mouth like a barbarian.

Bucky didn’t want to finish in her mouth, he hadn’t waited this long for that. He pulled her up from her position on her knees only to pull the jacket over her head. Luckily, there was no one around to see what was happening in his driveway.

He turned her around swiftly before easily yanking down her pants and panties as well, He pressed her front into the hood of the car, positioning himself at her entrance. Mina’s body had betrayed her and Bucky could feel her wetness.

“You’d enjoy this more if you weren’t so stubborn, pet.”

He entered her slowly and Mina cried out, the pressure incredibly intense.

Bucky held her waist, dragging her body back onto him and then pushing it forward as he moved in and out. He grunted, noting how tight she was around him. It felt like they were perfectly matched together.

Bucky sped up his pace, his hand reaching around to rub her sensitive bulb. She flinched from the touch but he could tell it was from the sudden pleasure. She was tightening around him and he could tell she was already coming. Bucky made a note about how sensitive she was.

The first orgasm ripped through her, completing shattering her world in the process. How could she be turned on by this? Maybe what she felt had been wrong all along. She tried to hold in her moans but that proved futile quickly.

Bucky wasn’t done with her yet, turning her back around to face him and lifting her leg so he could slide into her again. She looked tired from the first one, tears still staining her face. Bucky held her neck in his metal hand as he slammed into her a few more times. He finished inside her with his lips on hers. As he came, he removed his hand and he felt Mina return his kiss. They moved well together, his tongues brushing hers as it became sloppier.

Mina was crying still, not because of the gagging but because she realized what Bucky said was true.

“I’m the only one you have,” He spoke, starting to kiss her chin and then her neck. She nodded vigorously in agreement.

“I know, I-I know,” Her eyes didn’t leave his.

Bucky pulled away, looking her over, loving how perfect she was, “Let’s get you in the bath, doll.”

Hope you enjoy this! I have another Sebastian fic called plaything and a bunch of dark Peter stuff. I’m currently trying to write a Bucky/Steve/Peter related Walking Dead AU so hopefully my idea for that works out lol.

#dark!#dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky x reader #mcu smut #dark fic #marvel #dark marvel #marvel smut #dark steve rogers #sebastian stan #sebastian x reader #dark sebastian stan x reader #dark!fic

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swissmissficrecs · 3 years

Link

Word count: 23,591 Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes' Mother, Sherlock Holmes' Father, Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Original Characters, Mycroft Holmes Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Parentlock (mentioned), Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, TFP Does Not Exist, Sherlock’s Birthday, First Kiss, First Time, Pining, Winter, Folklore, Wales, Hay-on-Wye, Don't copy to another site, Case-fic (sort of), spooky elements, the wild hunt, Sharing a Bed, Implied/Referenced Drug Use Summary:

According to folklore, the nights between Christmas and Twelfth Night are the most dangerous of the year. During them, the Wild Hunt rides, and ghosts and demons come out to haunt unsuspecting and misbehaving folk. An investigation of a series of strange occurrences leads John and Sherlock to Hay-on-Wye on the Welsh Marches, to face ghosts weird and ancient as well as close and personal – and perhaps to start the new year on a more hopeful note than the previous one.

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Rec: This is a fascinating paranormal-adjacent mystery with some timely politics that allow Sherlock to stretch his chops beyond his usual “observe and deduce” spiel. It was especially interesting to learn about the local traditions and see how Sherlock dealt with the inexplicable - not just the folklore, but the emotional sie of the equation as well. Oh, and lest I forget: there was just one bed, and it certainly lives up to the hype!

(On the Rosie front, she is mentioned but does not actually appear in the story.)

#khorazir #20k #first time #casefic #travel #angst #series 4

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theplumsoldier · 3 years

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fear he who fears nothing

prologue summary: as a public figure living in modern germany, you would have thought your past was just that, just a past, but now, it has come back to haunt you and pushes you into the clutches of one baron zemo, while making you acquainted with the american heroes, falcon and the winter soldier.

series warnings: vulgar language: cursing; explicit scenes: mentions of blood, explosions, shootings, torture, injuries; a wannabe’s pathetic try at german; hinting at sexual themes.

a/n: little german is used in this but enough that i felt the need to add translations. translations will be marked as italic and are hedged in between “<>”. note i am not familiar with the languages colloquialisms so if you notice something wrong with my translations, you are most welcome to message me! this is the prologue to my series “fear he who fears nothing”. it will kick of in the next year in will be no longer than around six to seven parts. i haven’t figured it all out yet, but im working it out and updating along the way!

The two men, the ones whose identities later would be divulged and state to be an age-old relic and a national hero on the lam, did not at all fit into the club. It was always dark inside the White Lady, however the blinding lights – which one would not be wrong in their observation, should they deter them prone to trigger epileptic seizures – could not hide the two most rigid gents standing tall in the midst of the dance floor. You can ask why one, who does not dance, would stand on the dancefloor, however, your words would be in vain and your time lost, for Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes do not have time for anyone who is not Baron Zemo—

Who in this very second was in full swing of a Super Smash Bros match, using your club for arena.

The White Lady was a luxurious club, everyone in Germany was well aware of that. A place for important people and all who frequented the state of the art club knew the person next to, too, spent money like water. It was not a space for gang violence and illegalities, so when security had let them distract for just long enough, politicians and business owners, men and women of wealth ran around, much portraying the image which comes to mind when one would think of a fox entering a henhouse.

Panicking, people ran about like headless chickens, not for the exit, per say; for when in shock, instinct conquers rationality, sprinting and pushing their peers as if their lives depended on it. In a way it did, but in a club of important Europeans, they were not the target. Should they injure tonight, it would merely be in the result of the live American action movie-like fight which had now taken to the balcony lounge.

It took a rough shove to the back to send you back to the current state of affairs. It dawned on you now you would have to act, howbeit you had yet to figure out in which way.

Ushering past the frantic dancers that previously had revelled, you went pretty much unnoticed up the stairs. Pretty much unnoticed surpassing entirely unnoticed due your loyal bodyguard.

You quelled the urge to scream at the fighters when two of them pretty much shot through the air, hurling through at least 30k worth of ceiling lights.

They were the ones you had heard of multiple times through the years now: They were the “good guys”, from America. Albeit as they impoverished you, ruining 10 years of blood and sweat, before your very eyes, they were far from the good guys. Having pushed through what you had over the years, it now became clear if anybody was going to push you to your knees it had better be in another setting, with a whole other mood–preferably with some Frank Ocean in the background.

“Na los, komm schon!” Lina called, shoving you back down the stairs to get you out of danger. Your safety was her priority and so she updated security of your location via her Bluetooth earpiece. <Let’s go, come on!>

You were halfway down the stairs when the sound of an explosion went off. It was impossible to tell where it came from, but the next thing you knew was shattered glass raining from the ceiling. A group of red lights had severed from the ceiling and judging by the panic-stricken cries people were hurt.

The lights were suddenly killed, the whole club jet black for seconds until the standby generator switched on. You used this to your advantage, and scurried past Lina. You knew she only acted in your best interest, however your moral compass did not allow this terrorist to destroy your club.

When the lights turned on, the whole place lit up in a hideous yellow light, the kind you will find makes life difficult for drug addicts. This allowed you to properly see the damage done. It made you angry, seeing all these people suffer in your club; foreigners using your territory as playground.

“YN!”

“Schafft sie hier raus! Ich werde dafür sorgen, dass es hier oben kein Versteck gibt! Die Polizei soll Krankenwägen schicken, die Türsteher sollen die Umgebung sichern! Bin gleich draußen!” Lina protested, stepping up the staircase but you were adamant, and if Lina had learned one thing in her many years of her current position, it was that you were stubborn and steadfast as hell. “Ich komme schon klar, kümmern Sie sich um die Kunden!” <Get them out of here! I’m going to make sure there’s no hiding up here! Contact the police and have them send ambulances, have the bouncers secure the perimeter! Be right out!” > <I’ll be fine, tend to the customers!>

With that you sprinted down the hall to your office, punching in the code to unlock the door. At least your safe space was still intact. For now.

Getting the gun from the classic secret-safe-behind-the-wall-painting spot, you swiftly checked the chamber for rounds at full tilt. Finding only five bullets, clicked it back in place and took a second to exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Checking the chamber was about as nifty as your skills – if one could even call it that – got, so let’s just say it was going to be fun carrying out your little idea, threatening them.

You made sure to only hit the floor – it had to be replaced anyway – when shooting, and if a couple of toes would suffer your not-at-all refined skills, so be it–better that than accidentally killing one of these buffoons because you were not about to have a death on your conscience.

That got their attention.

“Y’all better get the fuck out of my club now!”

Shooting pretty much fuelled your wrath, but a fuming woman with a gun in her hand was something to fear, and you wholeheartedly trusted these idiots knew that.

“Ma’am, you should get—”

“Shut up!” seethed you, jaw clenched as much as the index finger you kept hovering over the trigger. “Now!”

You had lost sight of the bird-man. You hoped he had the decency to have grabbed a broom by now, cleaning up what chaos he so ignorantly had commenced with his little cyborg friend.

“Ah, Miss YN,” charmed Helmut Zemo then, not letting down his guard to the soldier not far from him, but he allowed himself to send you a duplicitous smile, evidently having convinced himself that this was a friendly visit.

But you had two bullets left and one hell of a grudge against this one.

“I was hoping to find you here,” spoke he, he thick-laced accent ringing through the room with an aftertaste of a memory of someone you once knew. “Perhaps we could have a little... Chit-chat, hm? Put down the gun, will you?”

“Du Hurensohn!” swore you and grit your teeth. “There are other ways to reach out to a person than destroying their livelihood!”

“Well, I had to get your attention, you understand—”

“Yeah, you got it alright! Now get the hell out of my club before I blow out your brains!”

That is if there are any left, you thought, waving the gun towards the exit. God, you hoped the police had the place surrounded.

Sirens sounded from the street, and the Winter Soldier took the opportunity – Zemo being distracted with you – to charge at him, attacking him with a knife. Zemo noticed the change in your expression, and thwarted the attempt.

You did not noticed the man coming up from behind you before he had you in a neck lock, pulling you away from the balcony railing. Screaming, you pulled the trigger, trying to twist your arm around, while out of his reach, and shoot him blindly. To no avail, however. The sound of the shots must have been what ushered the police through the doors, yelling and firing warning shots to stop the whole affair.

You could not be sure, though, for while you struggled for air, clawing at the assailant’s muscular arm, you vision veiled in black and the last thing you felt before drifting off, was a heaviness taking you to sleep.

#fatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #sam wilson #falcon #the winter soldier #marvel #the avengers #sebastian stan smut #Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #anthony mackie smut #marvel smut #baron zemo

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likesomekindofcheese · 4 years

Text

Promised: Part One (The Great mini-series)

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,878

From this Anon Request: ahhh im so happy that you'll write for grigor, gwil seems to be under hyped these days. can i request grigor having to be in an arranged marriage because peter somehow fucked up another treaty and the only way of fixing it is through an alliance (we can just ignore grigor being married already)

A/N: Of course! I hope you are okay with it being a fem! Reader. If not, just let me know and I’ll write a neutral version!

Anyways, enjoy the first part of this mini series of Peter being...Peter and you are Grigor getting into an arranged marriage to fix it up!

“This wine tastes like shit, where’s the vodka?”

The bread roll you had been chewing on nearly fell out of your mouth in surprise. This was the man you had been expecting for weeks. The Lord and Sovereign of all of Russia. The son of Peter the Great, a legendary warrior king beloved by all who knew him. He even shared a name with this godly figure.

The second he announced his arrival sent everyone in your house into a giddy panic. The manor was cleaned inside out. Every butler and maid lined up outside for his entrance in their most pressed uniforms. Your family and you had put on your finest garbs as well. You had even bought a new dress for the occasion, a pink silk gown with white cloth down the sleeves, and a white middle part while long bows decorated your cream stomacher.

Every soul in the manor was there when his carriage arrived to greet and curtsy to him and his friend, tour the house, and serve him a meal featuring the best cuts, foods, and drinks available, some of which were gifts from the locals honoring his appearance.

And he just called your finest vintage wine shit.

Every pulse in your house was heard in that moment. Your mother gasped a little at the sound of such language used at the table. Especially from him.

“We…we have whiskey to be served after, it’s stronger” you suggest meekly.

“I suppose, just something stronger than this,” his companion next to him reasoned.

He was a man who was perhaps in his thirties at most, brown hair barely seen beneath his dusty wig and in a dark green jacket, only a few steps below Peter’s finery. He swirled the glass with his large hands and took polite sips of it. You looked for a reaction to the taste and barely saw one.

“You want the emperor to drink shit wine, then!? What kind of hosts are you?” Peter asked, leaning back in his chair.

He was far more relaxed than the sea of straight backs of everyone at your table. He even tossed the glass over his shoulder.

KKKK!

A servant behind rushed up with a broom to sweep up the bits.

Your mother and father looked at each other questioningly. Your brother normally had a healthy appetite, but his fork paused in mid-air since the wine complaint.

With a little sigh, your father turned to a butler and asked him to retrieve a bottle of whiskey and to look for any spare vodka at once.

Looking at your brother, the sanguine chatterbox, you saw his face had paled and his jaw was still tight. Looks like it would have to be you then to alter the mood and keep the peace.

Turning to the Emperor’s companion on Peter’s right, you began to shyly greet him “Sir...uhm…I’m sorry, I forgot your last name…”

“Dymov,” he answered kindly.

His eyes softened. At least he seemed less of an unpredictable bull as his friend.

“Sir Dymov, what is the weather like in Russia? Is it as cold as everyone says?” you questioned.

“Oh, yes, very! Some winters have crowds of people wearing fur coats indoors and gathered around the fire,” he explained.

Peter cut in, chewing on the meat with an open mouth as if he were a cow in a field, “which is why we need to drink vodka to stay warm. Speaking of which, where is your butler and why the fuck hasn’t the vodka gotten here yet?!”

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Later that evening, there was some parlor entertainment as usual. Coffee, whiskey, and vodka were all served and seemed to be drank in generous amounts.

It began with you showing your musical gifts. You were to sing as your father accompanied you on the pianoforte. Your breath was feeling higher than what was needed for healthy singing. You could not help but gape at the two Russians who seemed to analyze you. They were hard not to ignore since they were both astoundingly tall, Peter only barely taller. Sir Dymov listened attentively, hands leaning against him as he and the emperor were offered the softest chairs.

But Peter was somehow enraptured. He looked right at you and was still, listening to it the whole time.

You noticed his eyes were not on your face. And your pink dress was as modest as your mothers.

Forcing yourself back into the music, you picked a spot in the parlor, near a bookshelf, and stared at it, trying to focus on the music and words. Lose yourself in its brief escape.

There was polite applause following. When you curtsied, you put a protective hand over your chest.

Your brother, more inclined to the world of theater, offered a reading of some texts by the finest playwrights of your land. Everyone listened to him as they settled for cards at a table, but you stood a while to focus on your knitting. Nerves had shot through you and you had to do something with your hands that would calm you more than cards with the boorish guest.

“May I sit here, Miss Y/L/N?” Sir Dymov asked to the spot next to yours.

“Yes, you may…” you answered, finishing a row of purl stitches.

As he sat down, he even offered to hold your yarn and straighten any strings.

“Thank you for the dinner, and the reading, and the music and everything, it was nice, far more peaceful than at home! And God knows, I could…we all could use some peace…,” he turned away briefly to keep a small eye on Peter.

“Sir Dymov, why would you need peace? Is it the war with Sweden?” you asked curiously.

His angled face looked oddly dark, despite the glow from the fire.

“No…Just a little bit of personal heartbreak, Lady Y/L/N. And your song was about love, so I was reminded of her.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” you asked

Flinching away, you cursed the impulse. It might be too personal.

“She rejected my marriage offer. She’s uhm, uh…how do I put this politely… she’s Peter’s mistress,” he explained

“Oh.”

“And she said she would not give up her position after our marriage, so she said I could either have to be married to her but share her with Peter or she would not consider my offer at all,” he sighed.

Setting your knitting away, you looked up at him with empathy.

“Sie Dymov, that sounds hard. But I can’t imagine how her saying yes would make anything easier…”

“I do miss her, and she’s in court so I see her still every day,” Dymov complained.

“You’ll find a way through heartbreak. I’ve had some of my own, but something better might happen!” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Once you set things down and decide to join the card table, you see Peter look up from his cards and scowl.

“You know, this is dull. Where is the louder singing? The wild dancing? The animals? No wonder people die here so much, they become bored!” he spat throwing off his hand onto the table.

“Things here are…a little quiet compared to your mighty empire,” your mother answers with a plastic smile. “But we make do…”

“I’m practically dying of boredom. How the hell was my father friends with you lot?” Peter asked.

Your father’s head ticked to the side, his eyes getting bigger.

“We were friends since our youth, and he loved all of us,” he said, words tinged with a subtle venom.

Your mother cleaned up the cards, and your brother paused his dramatic reading.

“Your highness, we can all retire if you don’t want to play anymore. I think traveling all the way here from your palace must have been exhausting. Is there anything else you need to make your stay here more comfortable before tomorrow?” she asked.

Peter’s eyes glinted up at you. Your body cinched as if ready to fight or flee.

“How about you offer to bring your daughter Y/N to my bedchambers for tonight, that would make me a lot more comfortable!”

Dymov’s jaw dropped. Your father stood up a little to get out of his chair but he was beat. In a flash, your brother slammed his book shut and rushed over, staring the ruler of Russia in the face.

“How dare you treat my sister like one of your whores?! Never!” he yelled.

“It’s my right as your guest?” Peter rebutted with a bizarre calm.

“After we’ve been kind to you? Gave you our best food and wine, housed you in our nicest room?” your brother roared.

You wanted to shrink yet you were frozen. Your father walked to your side and put an arm around you.

“You can have anything you want, but you’re a married man, Peter. My daughter’s dignity is important to me, as is your own wives. I don’t want to insult her as well,” he reasoned.

“Honor? Honor? You all only spit about honor when you live shit lives with shit food and shit company!” Peter argued.

The warmth of your father’s presence left you as he walked forward. Scuttling, your mother stood by you to take your hand in his place.

“Your highness, I knew him like a brother. If Peter the Great was here…” your father warned.

“He isn’t here! And I’m the Emperor now! And he isn’t!” Peter bellowed.

So on. And so on.

You retired early, your mother by your side to escort you as you saw your father and brother arguing back and forth. The only ally Peter had, other than his title, was Dymov holding him back. To protect or stop him, you could not tell.

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The next two days there was such bad blood it was unbelievable. There were no fun outings as planned. You ate alone. You hardly saw anyone. Any room you walked into; you could hear yelling.

Your father made sure you weren’t alone with Peter, but it seemed his eyes had gotten distracted with the fighting. Hopefully, he was joking. Partly.

One night you snuck downstairs to have a glass of water and heard a few words despite yourself.

“That’s it! I leave tomorrow morning! And you can forget my support and all your fucking soldiers, too!”

“Your highness, our money is about to get tight. And our people need it even more than us!”

“Too fucking bad, then!”

Oh no…Russia is our enemy.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. The idea of now starving. And your brother was about to marry a woman he loved in a fortnight. How could he provide for her or any future children? How would all the people who depended on your generosity fare with reduced funds? Worst of all, Peter had his quick moods and ideas. What if he declared war out of spite from this one visit?

You never met Peter the Great. He sometimes seemed like a kindly fairy god father in some ways he had been mentioned. His love of your house and your country and his friendship with your father. Financial support given when needed. How so much was funded and gifted and provided thanks to his generosity.

How could any of you live after that? Even with the embarrassment alone of being insulted by an emperor?

As you woke up, you only had barely time for breakfast when your mother entered.

“Y/N…we would like to talk to you.”

“Mother, I have breakfast. And I was hoping today I’d practice my music and finish that scarf,” you dismissed.

But from the look on her face you had no choice.

“It’s important. And you must be there.”

She walked you over into the main table where days ago everyone dined awkwardly. The Emperor and his companion were there. Peter pouted yet Dymov’s face looked as if he had seen a ghost and his folded hand were shaking a little.

As you sat down in your chair, every eye looked at you, there was a moment of tense silence.

“Well, what is it?” you asked.

“We’ve reached an agreement with Peter…” your father began.

“Are we going to lose…lose everything?” you asked anxiously.

Your heart was tolling in your eardrums as the words left your lips. It had been the question that kept you worried for days.

“No, your family is going to be fine…” Dymov assured, a hand placed over his mouth.

“You can still have some of my father’s money and support from the Russian crown and our fucking alliance even!” Peter threw in, hands going up.

“But…”

“But what?” you said.

“You have to bring half of your army to fight for me, Sweden’s trying to invade us and we need men. And some of your relatives have to swear loyalty to me. But that promise needs to be secured.” Peter continued

“How? We are already sending you soldiers and subjects? What else would do it?” you asked. Although your gut was telling you the answer.

There was a little pause, but quite an evil smile from Peter.

“There has to be a marriage. Your brother’s betrothed. So you’ll have to marry into Russia to secure it!” he revealed.

Blinking, the wind was knocked out as if you had been punched in the stomach.

“Sir, you’re married to…to Sophie! That Austrian girl!” you cried.

“Sophie? She isn’t Sophie anymore; she’s already christened by my church with a new name: she’s Empress Catherine of Russia now. And since she will be your ruler and you will address her as such! Might as well christen and give you a new name too!” he scolded.

“Of course, I mean I will but…but…who do I have to marry? Do you have any…any brothers?” you fret.

Numbness gripped your hands and nausea gripped your stomach at the thought of marrying a copy of Peter.

“I’ve got no brothers, no male relatives of age or alive for you and I want this contract done soon so…”

His head turned to Dymov with a congratulatory pat on the back.

“It’s Grigor here you’ll have to fuck for life in about a month!”

Grigor’s ears turned pink and he looked up at you, lips tight.

And if I say no? you start to wonder, tasting the words.

But what choice did you have?

“Lady Y/L/N, I promise, this isn’t any easier for me either…” he finally said. “I know this arrangement isn’t coming the way you expected…and I’m just as shocked as you are.”

Would you put your family’s and your people’s future down the drain? Would you let them become bankrupt, ruin your father’s memory of his friend, and make enemies with one of the richest, largest, and most powerful countries because of your selfishness?

Besides, no suitors had been calling you, really. None likable or with good intentions at least. You were getting to the age of spinsterdom. You knew you had to be desperate if you wanted any sense of security for yourself or your family. Who knew if another offer like this could be made?

Taking a deep breath, you looked Peter in the eye.

“I will do it. For my family and for everyone who we look after.”

Peter produced a document agreeing to the engagement, marriage, and benefits it brought. You and Dymov signed it.

Afterwards there was a small service in the chapel to pray for the future and for this marriage. But you were half in another world, unaware this was happening. Dymov seemed to flush between being pale or being red.

Immediately later, they decided all was well and to make plans to leave. Before packing, Dymov approached your parents and you in the parlor.

“I have to alert you of something that will happen, when Lady Y/L/N arrives…there will be a test done by the priests to see if she’s, uh, pure…and it involves checking her…” he gestured to his pants.

You let out a shocked gasp. What kind of kingdom were you about to be thrown into?

“I just wanted you to know, so you wouldn’t be shocked,” Dymov added on.

Your mother took your hand again and rubbed your knuckles soothingly.

“We have family physicians here. Trusted friends. They will do the examination and sign a document right before she goes. There will always be a chaperone until the marriage, to make sure everything is by Russia’s standards,’ she insisted, squeezing your hand extra tight.

Before they left the whole family saw off the Russian party. As Dymov turned to you, his blue eyes darkened slightly. He bowed lowest for you and kissed your hand.

“I’ll write to you as much as I can. You can call me Grigor,” he said.

“I guess you can call me Y/F/N…Grigor,” you replied

“Goodbye, Y/F/N. We will see each other…before the wedding. Soon.”

As kind as the gesture was, your brain had not stopped reeling. It remained even as you stood there, watching the carriage trot away. A pair of blue eyes even looking at you sadly from the window.

He seemed to have the same concern

How could you travel to live in another country ruled by someone like Peter?

And how could you love, much less marry, a man you just met?

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