latenightartist-author - Tumblr blog

latenightartist-author · 2 months

Text

bedside manner -

(Baron Zemo/nb!Reader sick fic)

warnings: minors dni; no smut but my blog is 18+. Discussions of illness and feeling gross, at one point Zemo demands Reader take some pills so if that’s a trigger for you, just FYI. v brief allusion Zemo’s past suicide attempts.

reader notes: Reader is the same as the one in From Sokovia with Love, minor mention of one event from ch. 2 but you can have not read any of it and be fine. Zemo uses fem-coded pet names throughout but I really don’t make mention of the Reader’s gender other than that, so if you’re fine being called “she-wolf” in Russian, then you’re good to go. Tried to keep all mentions of skin and hair as neutral as possible!

general: I got sick and felt like being super self-indulgent about it while I was stuck in bed all week, so here we are. some angst, some hurt/comfort if you squint.

I swear this was going to be cute and kind of fluffy and then people started talking about emotions and it all went to hell. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It had started small. A sore throat when you’d stepped off Zemo’s fucking private jet (you still weren’t used to that), making you think it was just allergies or something as you adjusted to yet another country’s pollen count. You took some vitamin C concentrate and an aspirin and moved on with your tasks that evening, looking into possible security weak spots for his next proposed target.

By midnight, your throat was already so sore you had to gently demure when Zemo hooked an arm around your waist and leaned in to kiss you, wanting to praise you for the unmonitored alley exit you’d discovered.

“I’m not sick, Baron,” you’d said quietly, your hand playing just a little bit with the growing stubble on his face as he gave you one of his famous dissecting looks. “Just not quite able to match your enthusiasm tonight.” You allowed yourself a smirk in his direction. “It’s hard to kiss you like you deserve with my throat feeling weird, that’s all.”

Zemo stared at you critically for a moment longer before he hummed softly, kissing your forehead instead. “Keep an eye on it, Schatzi. I need you-“

“At my best, I know.” You reassured him, setting your hand over his heart. “It’s just allergies, I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“I have no doubt,” Zemo said, in a voice that sounded like he very much did have doubts as his large, warm hand covered yours. “But to make sure of this, I’ll take the guest room tonight, yes?”

You frowned. “Hel, don’t be ridiculous, I’m not taking your room-“

Zemo smirked. “It’s hardly only my room anymore, Printsessa.”

As long as you’d been at this with him, you still felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “Yeah, well… still.” You frowned. “I don’t want to kick you out of your bed for something as minor allergies.”

“It’s one night, Liebling,” Zemo laughed slightly, moving some of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be fine - trust me when I say I’ve slept on much worse. The guest bed is still perfectly adequate. Besides, if you’re better tomorrow,” he leaned forward, the end of his nose meeting yours. “I’ll make sharing again most enjoyable, I promise you.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” you felt a smile creep over your face, touching your forehead to his. “Sounds fun, then.”

Zemo lingered there a moment, gazing at you - before frowning just slightly, leaning back and gently pressing the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Hel, I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes, gently moving his hand away. “It’s just flying today, I swear.”

“There’s no harm in checking,” he said evenly, his expression still not quite neutral. He glanced at the digital clock with the military readout on the wall. “You should get your rest, though - we can finish tracing the contingency route in the morning.”

“As my lordship wishes,” you sighed, reaching for the tablet he’d bought you for research purposes.

“No -“ His hand came forward to gingerly press the tablet back onto the table. “I mean it, Volchitsa, you’re done for the night. No research, no translating, nothing. You can take your phone,” he nodded to where your phone lay on the desk surface. “But you can only use it if you need me.”

“Helmut,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m an adult. I don’t need you telling me what to do like this, thanks.”

“I think you’re forgetting, Schatz, which of us is actually in charge here.” Zemo raised an eyebrow in return, his somehow sterner. “I want you off duty tonight, period. I can’t have you not taking care of yourself, or it will come back to bite us both.”

“Fine,” you threw your hands in the air in mock surrender. “Is there anything else my liege desires?”

Zemo caught one of your hands. “If you won’t listen to me as your employer anymore,” he said quietly, before pressing the knuckles to his lips. “At least humor me as someone who cares about you, please?”

You felt yourself melt against your own better judgment, the tension evaporating from your shoulders immediately. “…Fine,” you repeated, in a much softer tone. “Fine, I’ll go to bed. But I’m telling you, this isn’t going to be a big deal in the morning.”

“Then you can tell me that you told me so all you like, Volchitsa.” Zemo still held one of your hands in his, the other solemnly crossing his heart. “What’s that saying you have? ‘Scout’s honor?’”

“Ugh, stop.” You rolled your eyes as he smirked. “I’ll sleep, Hel, I promise.”

You headed for the office door, but he followed you, closing it behind you both. “You wouldn’t think I’d have to nearly beg a grad student to sleep.” Zemo joked, following you still down the hall and making it clear he intended to walk you to his room. “You’re always telling me how exhausted your work left you.”

“First of all, maybe I think it’d be hot if you begged me sometime,” you said casually, picking your way through the dark living quarters. “And second of all, we commonly don’t sleep if we’re very interested in something, I’ll have you know. That’s how the exhaustion came to exist to begin with, it’s not like we just burn ourselves out for nothing.”

When you got no response, you glanced to your left, seeing Zemo’s deeply thoughtful expression in the dim light from the streetlamps outside. “What?” you asked, suddenly concerned.

Zemo ’s eyes finally found yours, blinking as if released from a trance. “Apologies,” he muttered, with the barest discernible trace of shyness. “I found myself rather… captivated, by your first point.”

You had to stifle a laugh as you found the door knob in the darkness. “Pleasant dreams, then, Baron.” You winked as you opened the door, closing it behind you as you blew him a saucy kiss.

“And to you, szerelmem,” you heard him murmur. Where you leaned your back against the door, there was no sound for a moment more, before his telltale footsteps finally turned and vanished in the opposite direction. You couldn’t decide if he had been waiting to see if you would sneak out again to grab your laptop, or if he just genuinely wanted to linger for a second longer where he’d left you. Either way, the idea of a paranoid trained assassin being this concerned about your health was more sweet than utterly strange, as you would have found it when the two of you first met.

Okay, so you’d humor him. You’d go straight to bed, no more research for tonight, and be right as rain in the morning. Easy. You donned your pajamas and made yourself comfortable, feeling slightly lonely in the massive bed by yourself. But if this is what it took to put Zemo’s mind at ease, you could do that much.

You took a moment to bring his usual pillow to your chest, inhaling the smell of his soap and his cologne. It was only after you did this for a few minutes that you could actually relax enough to sleep, pretending your Baron was still next to you.

Predictably, you were not, in fact, right as rain.

You woke up at five in the morning - five in the fucking morning, you moaned upon seeing the harsh red lights of the clock - with the feeling of too much liquid pressure all over your face: over your eardrums, behind your nose, along the joint of your jawbone, everywhere. Your tongue absently found and traced the thin line of flesh in your cheeks where you must have been grinding your teeth in your sleep against the ache. Before you could think about this too long, however, you flung yourself towards the nightstand on what had become “your” side of the bed, grasping desperately for the tissue box just in time to catch a sneeze that, if anything, made everything hurt worse. Something under your chest flared with painful pressure, and your hips and knees suddenly were achey and weak. In general, you felt similar to if you’d been hit by an eighteen wheeler carrying a full load of pollen.

When you groaned, you groaned for two reasons: The first was that apparently, your annual spring cold had managed to find you even all the way on the other side of the world, like clockwork. The second was that Zemo had been right.

Well, hold on. It wasn’t necessarily that he had been right - you were used to that. He was a brilliant tactician with endless patience, of course he was often right about things. It was that he was right about you being sick, which not only meant that you couldn’t uphold your end of The Arrangment, as you’d both come to refer to it, but that you would now be a distraction from his work if he felt the need to take care of you. Because, despite the dangerous and at times violent methods he used to get what he wanted, you’d come to learn that in his private life, the Baron loved nothing more than to care for people. When you spent long days working in his office, he would come by almost every hour with something small for you as he checked in on your progress: hot tea, a glass of ice water, some tiny biscuits coated in chocolate, hell, even a whole cheese plate once. By the end of the evening, you almost felt bad that Oeznik would come in and find a veritable cupboard of dishes to clear on your desk. On top of that, wherever you were working, it always felt like Zemo was doing his best to fuss over you as subtly as possible: making sure your coat was heavy enough if you were somewhere cold, giving you one of his if it wasn’t, surprising you with a new nice dress or jumpsuit whenever you had to be somewhere undercover, or leaving accessories for the technology you used for research on the shared desk for you to find. Though your relationship with him had crossed the line of ‘professional’ into ‘something else entirely’ long ago, you still remembered that he’d initially courted your help by putting you up in a fancy hotel when you’d been kicked out of your student hostel. You weren’t sure if it was an ‘always had money’ thing or a ‘raised royal’ thing, or some combination of the two, but the man seemed to get something out of making sure everyone in his immediate vicinity was constantly comfortable and well-equipped - even outside a strictly strategic sense.

Which would have been fine, if you didn’t feel so bad about it when it was you. Then it just felt like pity, or charity, or a distraction to the mission at hand, and you didn’t want to be any of those things to him. You only ever wanted to be equals in mind and in purpose, lest you end up becoming dead weight and a threat. Being in a vulnerable position such as this was not likely to keep that equality afloat.

However, as you sat there and thought about it, there was one obvious work-around: Zemo just never had to find out you were sick. This made perfect sense to you, in your stuffy little brain this early in the morning. You would just carefully hide it all day, keep yourself squirreled away in either the bedroom or the office on a steady supply of mild painkillers and vitamin C, and wait for the worst of it to pass. By the time he caught you even looking at the tissue box, it would be over, and you’d be better.

But, for this to work, you needed to implement this before he saw you. As in, now.

You got out of bed as best you could, testing your complaining knees against the plush throw rug on the floor, and slunk as quietly as possible out of the bedroom and into the dark safe house.

You’d spent so long in Zemo’s bevy of international lookalike apartments by now that you managed to find the kitchen without turning on the lights. The question was now just going to be whether you could find where he kept medicine without rousing either poor tireless Oeznik or Zemo and his legendary silent feet.

As quietly as you could, you filled a glass with water, keeping it by the sink as you began to scour the cabinets with the dim light of your phone. People still had a medicine cabinet in their kitchens, right? Or at least a shelf? Your adopted parents, when you were younger, used to have at least one cabinet off to the side of the kitchen full of aspirin, cold medicine, generic painkillers, and the like so someone could feasibly fix themselves a needed drink and grab something for whatever ailed them without having to fight for bathroom access. But at the moment, you suddenly found yourself wondering if that was just a thing in your part of the country, or just the country where you were raised in general, or if it was in fact an international thing…

Between pondering this fact and trying to keep your opening and closing of cabinets as silent as possible, you entirely missed the soft footsteps behind you, and a figure pausing some steps away to watch your progress.

It was only when the kitchen light flicked on that you spun, nearly losing your footing in the process, to greet the new entrant to the kitchen.

“Printsessa?” Zemo blinked, eyelids still heavy with sleep, his dark bathrobe open over his bare stomach and cotton pajama bottoms. “What are you doing up, draga? You’re never awake this early.”

You were about to counter with something as clever as ‘well what are you doing up this early?’ when the words were trapped in your throat by a colossal sneeze you just managed to catch with a spare tissue, which quickly turned into a sharp cough as you fought to cover it up.

When you looked up to make your excuse, Zemo was already wide awake, eyes coolly neutral. “Bed,” he said simply. “Now.”

“But Hel,“ you began. “I’ll be fine, I get these like once a year, I just need some meds and I’ll be good to go-“

You were cut off by a sharp squeak of surprise as Zemo crossed the kitchen floor during your rebuttal, scooping you near-effortlessly over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You said, not wanting to actually hurt him but lightly smacking his shoulder with your hand. “Helmut, I’ll be fine, just let me-“

Zemo walked you all the way back into his bedroom and set you as gently on the bed as he could, turning on the nearest bedside light after he did so. When you sat up to argue with him, he leaned over you, his hands on either side of your waist on the mattress.

“Surely,” he began, his voice low and his eyes narrow. “My Volchitsa knows that our best chance of success in our line of work is us both being at top form, yes?”

Your eyes narrowed to match his, staring him down. “I can still operate just fine,” you countered, folding your arms across your chest. “It’s just a cold, you don’t have to treat me like a child.”

“I wouldn’t if you would just listen to me and do as I ask,” Zemo argued, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know why you insist on working your way through this, Liebling, it’s only going to wear you down in the long run, and I can’t have that-“

“You can’t take care of me and handle the mission at the same time,” you blurted, your voice devolving into a soft coughing fit with the attempted sudden increase in volume.

When you looked up from your fit, Zemo was gone - only to emerge through the doorway a second later with the water you’d left in the kitchen, and a small paper cup. When he passed them both to you, you saw a small variety of pills at the bottom of the latter.

“Aspirin, something for your cough, and something to help you sleep.” Zemo explained, indicating each in particular. He reached up, gently touching your forehead with his palm. “No fever, but we’ll want to make sure we don’t invite one.” He murmured, half to himself.

You sat there, holding the water and the meds, biting your lip through your inner conflict. So much for hiding that you were sick, so much for staying equals.

Zemo noticed this reticence, and came to sit next to you on the mattress, careful not to jostle you too much with what you were holding. He tilted his head to the side until you had no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“Why are you fighting me so, Schatzi?” He asked softly. He smiled slightly, nudging you very gently with his elbow. “I must have missed where you voted that it would be a grave insult to give your sick szerelmem medicine where you’re from.”

You sighed, setting the water and the pills on the bedside for a minute and crossing your arms protectively in front of your chest. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I’m not… I’m not trying to be difficult, Hel, I’m just trying not to slow you down.” You swallowed, then winced at the soreness in your throat. “I don’t want to be a distraction, I don’t want to be any kind of drain on time or supplies, I don’t… I just don’t want to get in your way.” You blinked, warm tears suddenly invading your vision and making the room swim.

You heard Zemo sigh next to you, you thought with frustration - until he reached over, tucking your head under his chin as he pulled you into a loose hug.

“Draga,” he said slowly. “Simple question: if we’re in the field and I get shot in the leg, what do you do?”

“Staunch the bleeding, tie off the wound as best I can, and get you out of there,” you said immediately, trying to look up at him. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Zemo nodded, one hand gently rubbing circles in your back. “If we’re here and we’re compromised, and I’m pinned down, what do you do?”

“Get them the fuck off you, provide cover, find Oeznik and figure out the best exit strategy,” you said again, confused. “Hel, I don’t-“

“I’m not done,” Zemo said evenly, angling to look down at you. “These things are a basic understanding of how we work together, yes? As a team? You look out for me, I look out for you?”

“I mean, yeah.“ You gesticulated vaguely, then quickly turned away shivering as you felt another cough ripple through your chest. “But that’s actual emergencies,” you argued, turning back to him as soon as you thought it was safe. “This is just a bug.”

“No,” Zemo said quietly, shaking his head. “That’s just how this works, period. So now, you need me to look out for you, so I will.” His smirk returned, lined with some tiredness due to the hour. “If my stubborn Printsessa will let me, that is.”

You felt your shoulders deflate slightly, unsure how you could feasibly argue against this and not come off just being childish. “…Okay,” you said at last, sniffling yet again at the tickle in your nose. “But only if you have time, and only if you don’t have anything more pressing-“

“Volchitsa,” Zemo sighed, rubbing his palm down his face - but still smiling, somehow, when he lifted it away. “You are so clever about everything but yourself, it astounds me.” He looked at you as if you were somehow missing something more obvious. “You are what’s pressing to me, draga. You are just as much a part of this now as I am.” He reached forward, gently brushing some of your hair away from your face. “You worry all the time about holding me back, but you don’t realize how now you’re essential for me to move forward as well.” He put two fingers under your chin, gently tilting your head to look meet his eyes. “I need you,” he said plainly. “And right now, I need you to rest and let me help you get better, so I can have you with me again. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, feeling sheepish now for your earlier arguing and scheming. “Yes,” you added when he continued pointedly staring at you, your voice slightly gravelly as you fought another cough.

Zemo sat back, as if relieved. “See, was that so hard?” His smirk returned, and you rolled your eyes - or would have, if you hadn’t immediately sneezed. “Stay here, and take those,” Zemo said, pointing to the small cup of medicine. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

You watched him go before finally taking the small cup of medicine, downing the pills with some water. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed when Zemo returned with a full glass pitcher of water to set by your bedside, and a couple boxes of tissues.

He set those down, looking at you for a moment before finally giving you a small downward wave of his fingers. “Move over,” he said expectantly.

You begrudgingly shifted to the center of the bed, expecting him to join you, only for him to tuck in the duvet around you and push the pillows to align more with your head.

“Hel,” you rolled your eyes at him, and he laughed.

“Proper rest means being comfortable,” Zemo leaned forward on the mattress, kissing the top of your head. “You can’t complain every time I try to do something for you, Volchitsa, or this will be a very long recovery for both of us.”

You sighed, settling back into the pillows in defeat. “I know, I’m sorry - old habits, I guess.” You gave him a weak smile before you sneezed again, taking the box of tissues he passed you gratefully.

“We’ll be addressing that later, I assure you,” Zemo gave you a critical once-over, examining your position on the bed. “But for now, that sleep aid should be kicking in soon, so I’ll leave you to actually do that.” He turned to go, before pausing suddenly by your bedside table. “Ah, yes…” He picked up your phone, depositing it in his pocket before replacing it with a little silver hand bell.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said, unable to hide your genuine gobsmacked expression.

“I don’t want you being tempted to try to work while you’re convalescing,” Zemo looked at you with yet another smirk of his. “So we’re trying something a little more old-fashioned.”

“I- you can’t-“ you sat there, flustered, looking between Zemo and the bell and trying to articulate why exactly this absolutely went against your ‘let’s not acknowledge that I have needs’ defense programming when you suddenly sneezed, which triggered another coughing fit. “…Fine,” you said again, the exhaustion and the sleep aid finally overpowering you in tandem. “You win, I’ll use the bell.”

“That’s mein Engel,” Zemo purred, stroking your hair one more time as your head hit the pillow. “You sleep, draga, I’ll check on you later.”

You mumbled a goodbye, rolling over and dozing off almost immediately, unable to fight it anymore.

You missed Zemo lingering in the doorway for a few minutes longer, watching your breathing even out before he finally left the door mostly closed.

For the next few hours as he went about his work, he would regularly stop at the crack in the door just to watch the soft rise and fall of your chest.

When you finally woke up again, the sun had shifted across the windows that faced the bed, afternoon light leaking through the soft white curtains.

You sat up, your breath feeling thick in your lungs, but your face no longer ached and you no longer had those lines of flesh on the inside of your cheeks. Slowly, you ran your hands down your face, blinking the last of the sleep from your eyes before turning to get that damned bell -

And jumping slightly when you found Zemo no less than a foot away from you in an armchair you’d never seen, reading from a book whose front cover was entirely in Cyrillic.

“Shit, Baron,” you sighed, putting a hand to your chest. “You have to stop doing that.”

“You were dead to the world, Liebling,” Zemo said, putting aside his book to look at you. “I could have tap danced in here and you wouldn’t have noticed. You were exhausted.”

You opened your mouth to respond before pausing. “…You don’t actually tap dance, do you?” You asked, unable to help yourself.

“See, you’re already feeling a little better,” Zemo smiled, resting his chin in his hand as he took you in. “Now, does my Volchitsa have an appetite?”

You swallowed carefully, wincing when the inside of your throat felt like it sparked red. “I think anything I could taste would be ruined when I actually got it down.” You shrugged a shoulder apologetically.

Zemo ‘tsk’ed softly, rising for a moment to put a hand again to your forehead. You reflexively closed your eyes at the relative cool of his hand, his skin surprisingly soft given what he did for a living. He muttered something softly in Sokovian, which you could swore at least partially translated as ‘...starve a fever.’ “Wait here,” he instructed, pointing a single digit at you imperiously before turning and striding out the door again.

“Because I’m just dying to get up,” you joked, falling back against the pillows as he disappeared. You found yourself rubbing your face against the cool silk of the pillowcase you hadn’t been sleeping on, enjoying the feeling even if it wasn’t quite as welcome as your Baron’s hand.

“Don’t joke about dying when you’re sick.” He surprised you, re-entering seemingly a second later with a tray. He kicked the door closed lightly with his heel, moving to bring the tray to your bedside. As he leaned down, your eyes met for a moment, and he met your perplexed expression with a wry smile. “Old Sokovian superstition,” he explained in a softer tone. “We don’t want any listening fates feeling tempted, do we?”

“It’s just a bug, Baron,” you said, nonetheless returning his smile with a shadow of one of your own. “I’m too stubborn to be dragged off by a mere fate anyway, remember?”

Zemo winced at this and sighed, as if vaguely exasperated. “Humor me anyway, draga, won’t you?”

You said nothing, instead holding up your palms in a display of surrender.

You sat up, curious, as he set the tray on your nightstand. You recognized the transparent teapot from previous tea times together, though instead of the soft pink cherry blossom, this time it held a steeping golden liquid that, even through your stuffed nose, seemed to have aromatic hints of citrus.

He waited another minute or so for the color to darken before, at last satisfied, he poured you each a fine china cup, then passed yours to you gingerly in its saucer.

“Lemon and honey,” he said, watching you try to subtly sniff it experimentally. He gathered his own cup and saucer, settling himself back in the arm chair and taking a slow sip. “Sometimes the simpler remedy really is the best choice.”

“You hardly do things ‘simply,’ Hel.” You rolled your eyes, but not unkindly. “I’m willing to be there’s, like, some exceptionally rare lemon zest in this batch or something. Endangered lemons, even.” Unable to help another small smile, you took a sip, withdrawing the cup again to stare into it when you swallowed.

Zemo sat up straighter in his seat, his bright eyes watching your face. “Something wrong?”

You shook your head, looking from the tea to him with an amusedly exasperated expression of your own. “No,” you said, taking another sip. “It’s just stupidly good lemon tea, is all.”

Zemo relaxed again, his smile returning as he took another sip of his own. “You know, Printsessa,” he tilted his head, his gaze a cataloguing, dissecting one now. “I’m beginning to wonder if it’s not necessarily that you like what I make you, but rather, you just appreciate things more when someone makes them for you.” He shrugged as you looked up to meet his eyes, his smile a bit more somber now. “Call it an educated guess.”

“Decent theory, Baron, but wrong variable,” you said, unable to help the corner of your mouth curling up a bit.

Zemo arched an eyebrow, gesturing for you to continue.

“It’s not necessarily if someone else makes it for me,” you explained. “It’s just that I’m predisposed to like anything you make me.” You took yet another sip as he blinked, seemingly surprised, and looked back down into the depths of his own. You sat up slightly yourself in turn - was he blushing? Your Baron?

“...Yes. Well.” Zemo took another sip of tea, taking a moment before he could return your gaze. “You’d think you’d be thrilled then when I wanted to feed you, instead of constantly fighting me about it.”

“Hel, not this again,” you sighed, setting aside the cup as gently as possible.

“Am I wrong?” Zemo challenged, all the while leaning slightly to make sure you’d emptied your tea cup.

“Helmut,” you said softly, and his given name got his attention. His eyes snapped back to you, and he said yours in turn - you had to fight a shiver lest he thought you had a chill, but you really did appreciate whenever your name passed his lips, how it sounded like something between an invocation and a prayer.

“I just,” you bit your lip, looking away to gather your words for a moment without the flustering effect of his eyes on your already fuzzy brain. “I don’t... I don’t want me getting in the way of anything actually important to your work, “ you explained. “I know, I know, I’m part of it-“ You held up a hand as he opened his mouth to argue, looking exasperated again. “But I should be able to handle my own sickness, you know? I just don’t want us to miss anything, or you to have a window close, just because you were having to take care of me. Like,” you gestured to the chair he was sitting in. “I don’t know, how long have you been sitting here? When did you move this in here? Is there something else you could have been doing that was actually productive?”

“Well, it’s not like I could trust you to use the bell,” Zemo said, setting his own empty cup aside to give you a cool, surveying look. “You made that apparent as soon as I showed it to you.”

“Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to wait on me!” You gestured to him. “Especially when we have a tight schedule and only so long to meet that demand before we need a contingency plan, and I’m not about to let your work fall apart because I-“

Zemo was watching you this whole time with a slowly tightening jaw before he looked abruptly to the ceiling, muttering again in Sokovian - “Heavens help me with this one.” Even more abruptly, he kicked off the boots he was wearing, rising to his feet and walking to the end of his own bed before crawling up it over the duvet to where you sat swaddled in it.

“Hel, what the fuck-“ You moved back against the plush quilted headboard as he closed the distance between you, staring you down where he sat somewhat straddling your lap and resting on his knees.

He took your face in his hands, leaning just close enough to you that you didn’t feel your eyes have to unfocus to keep contact with his.

“I don’t know what was said to you,” he said in a low, soft voice. “I don’t know who made you feel like an inconvenience for- for being human, Schatz, that’s all. Same as me.” He shushed your noise of protest, taking your hand gently in one of his own and pressing your palm to his heart, the feeling of its progress solid beneath skin and muscle. “But I would give anything to hold them at the point of my sword for what they’ve done.”He looked at you again, his shoulders falling somewhat - from sadness, from frustration, you couldn’t tell. “I don’t know who made you feel like it is a trap to love someone, or an admission of weakness to be loved, but I would swear to you now on any ancient oath you choose that anything I do for you is entirely of my own will, because I love you, and there is nothing you can do or say or be that will make me feel like my hand is forced in doing so.”

You couldn’t tell what was more intense than his stare - the ringing in your ears, or the heat that filled your face like a lit furnace. For a few moments, the only sound besides your compromised ears was the intermingled breathing between the two of you.

Slowly, he leaned towards you, touching his forehead to yours even after you recoiled just slightly.

“You’re going to get sick, we don’t know if I’m still contagious-“ you whispered, your voice raw and strained for different reasons now.

“I’ll live.” Zemo shrugged slightly, not moving back.

You blinked at him, ignoring the warm water in your eyes the best you could. Allergies, of course. “I thought you said we couldn’t tempt fate.”

“I’m not sick yet,” Zemo said quietly, the hand over your on his chest still staying put. “And besides, the fates don’t want me dead. We’ve had that argument on several occasions.” He smirked, a dry thing. “I always lose.”

You winced at this, pulling your hand gently from his so you could loop your arms around his neck. You lingered there in silence for a few minutes, locked in a silent fight with yourself as to what you could possibly say, before he glanced up at you with the slightest bit of hesitation.

“Too much?”

Incredibly, you found yourself laughing softly, and his responding grin was definitely one of relief. You laughed until it turned into a cough, you pulling away to cover your mouth and protect him even as minimally as you could with him being so close, him turning to pour you another cup of lemon tea.

He put the cup in your hands, insisting you drink before you tried to speak. You swallowed, the warm liquid soothing your throat somewhat, making you feel a bit less like his last smirk was lodged there like something sharp.

“Of course I love you,” you said, as if explaining to him how gravity worked. You felt him relax just slightly where he was sitting, as if this were news to him somehow. “Of course I love you, you have to know that by now. You know I would - and have - do anything for you.”

“So why can’t I do the same?” he said, moving some of your hair away from where it had fallen around your face.

“Because,” you sat, trying to explain the tiny nagging voice in the back of your brain, the constant backlog of anxious static. “Because I want this to be equal. I want you to think of me as equal.”

Zemo’s face scrunched with genuine confusion, and he stared at you for a long time before finally gesturing for you to expand upon that thought.

“Look,” you sighed. “When you found me, this was an exchange - money, expertise, done, right?”

Zemo nodded, a touch uneasily, if you weren’t imagining things. “But it’s not about that anymore,” he said, as if trying to reassure both of you.

“No,” you agreed, one of your hands finding his on the mattress and intertwining your fingers. “No, it stopped being about that ages ago. But still,” you went on. “You can care for me any way you want without thinking about it, almost. It’s just second nature to you, seeing a need and filling it.” You smiled weakly. “And I can’t do that in the same way. Or at least, not to the same degree. The same kind of immediacy.” You looked from your intertwined hands to his eyes, where he was still looking at you like you were a particularly difficult puzzle. “I don’t want it to become a... a drain,” you explained. “I don’t want the way you care for me to become a chore, to become unequal, because what I do is just... it’s going to be different.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the feeling of helplessness washing over you. “For me, I just... feel. I feel like I want you, excessively even, and I’m.” You took a breath. “I’m scared that if I already feel like I need you so much, then actually needing you is going to become a net loss on your end. Like you’ll see me as a burden, and all I want is to be your partner.”

Zemo’s eyes flashed at your words, as if something finally clicked into place for him. “Printsessa,” he said at last. “You’re still making this about the exchange.”

At a loss for words, unable to explain any further, you gently but frustratedly threw your hands up, letting them fall with soft thuds onto the duvet in front of Zemo’s own.

He took yours immediately, and with a soft push, invited you to lay down on the mattress as he moved from his position in front of you to one at your side.

He watched you settle onto the pillow next to him, his arm reaching to pull you closer by your waist.

He took you in for a moment in silence before he spoke again. “You’re enough, Schatzi.”

You blinked, fighting off a sniffle for reasons you weren’t sure were medical or emotional.

He smirked, his free hand taking one of yours again. “You talk as if your heart is something I could find for myself anywhere, something that doesn’t hold up your end of some deal you think we have to make.” He shook his head. “It’s enough.” He pressed his forehead to yours again. “All I ever want is your word that you’re mine. And I don’t think you realize just what I’d do to keep it.” He thought for a moment before gently kissing the back of your hand, lifting your knuckles to his lips. “Further, I don’t think you appreciate quite how many ways you give it to me.”

“...I mean, if I could breathe through my nose, I could think of a couple to thank you for that tea,” you began, and Zemo laughed before he could help himself..

“No, Volchitsa,” he rolled his eyes. “Though I do enjoy your particular brand of affection,” he smirked, lifting a finger to trace the line of your jaw. “I was thinking of other ways.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

Zemo held up a hand, counting from his thumb. “You trust me, implicitly, no matter what I ask of you,” he said. “You do your best to please me with your performance and your research, even if you disagree with my protocols,” His smirk turned into a full smile, surprisingly soft. “And the way you try to protect me at the slightest chance you think I might need it, even when you’re not sure how.” He paused, moved. “You put yourself on the line without a second thought. I saw it that first night in Riga, when you pretended to kiss me in that alley, and that was the moment I knew I was in trouble.” He chuckled softly. “Every time since, I knew I was yours.”

You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy. You didn’t realize he’d taken such things to heart. “I was just doing what anyone would do.”

“You knocked a detective in Vienna unconscious when you thought they got too close to where I was hiding, Liebling. I have reasonable doubt you wouldn’t have done such a thing a year ago.”

You felt yourself smile a little, despite yourself. “Yeah, well. You taught me to punch properly. Makes a difference.”

Zemo shook his head agains the pillow, pulling you close to him. When you rolled over to cough, trying to avoid contaminating him in whatever minor ways you could at such close proximity, he simply kept his arms around your waist and spooned his body to yours.

“We’re already equal, szerelmem.” he said quietly. “I promise you that.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, and you shivered in an entirely enjoyable sense. “Now let me take care of you, so I don’t have to go any longer than necessary without you by my side.”

You felt yourself sigh, relaxing at last against his chest as the tension left your shoulders. “Okay.” You took one of his hands at your waist, twining your fingers through his yet again. “But the next time you’re sick, Hel, I expect you to let me take care of you the same way.”

Zemo squeezed your hand gently. “I’ll even tell you where I get the endangered lemons,” he whispered, making you laugh yet again.

You fell asleep like that, intertwined still, and though you couldn’t quite explain it, you swore you got better in half the days it usually took you at this time of year.

You suspected it was more than the tea.

124 notes · View notes

latenightartist-author · 5 months

Text

I made a list of all the supernatural episodes in case anyone want to check them off as they watch them! 😊

Season One

- [ ] Pilot

- [ ] Weddigo

- [ ] Dead in the water

- [ ] Phantom Traveler

- [ ] Bloody Mary

- [ ] Skin

- [ ] Hook Man

- [ ] Bugs

- [ ] Home

- [ ] Asylum

- [ ] Scarecrow

- [ ] Faith

- [ ] Route 666

- [ ] Nightmare

- [ ] The Benders

- [ ] Shadow

- [ ] Hell House

- [ ] Something Wicked

- [ ] Provenance

- [ ] Dead Man’s Blood

- [ ] Salvation

- [ ] Devil’s Trap

Season Two

- [ ] In my time of Dying

- [ ] Everybody loves a clown

- [ ] Bloodlust

- [ ] Children shouldn’t play with dead things

- [ ] Simon said

- [ ] No exit

- [ ] The usual suspects

- [ ] Crossroads blues

- [ ] Croatoan

- [ ] Hunted

- [ ] Playthings

- [ ] Nightshifter

- [ ] Houses of the holy

- [ ] Born under a bad sign

- [ ] Tall tales

- [ ] Roadkill

- [ ] Heart

- [ ] Hollywood Babylon

- [ ] Folsom Prison Blues

- [ ] What is and what should never be

- [ ] All hell broke loose part 1

- [ ] All hell broke loose part 2

Season three

- [ ] The magnificent seven

- [ ] The kids are alright

- [ ] Bad day on black rock

- [ ] Sin city

- [ ] Bedtime stories

- [ ] Red sky at morning

- [ ] Fresh blood

- [ ] A very supernatural Christmas

- [ ] Malleus maleficarum

- [ ] Dream a little dream

- [ ] Mystery spot

- [ ] Jus in bello

- [ ] Ghostfacers

- [ ] Long distance call

- [ ] Time is on my side

- [ ] No rest for the wicked

Season four

- [ ] Lazarus rising

- [ ] Are you there? God it's me, Dean Winchester.

- [ ] In the beginning

- [ ] Metamorphosis

- [ ] Monster movie

- [ ] Yellow fever

- [ ] It's the great pumpkin Sam Winchester

- [ ] Wishful thinking

- [ ] I know what you did last summer

- [ ] Heaven and Hell

- [ ] Family remains

- [ ] Cross angel is a douche bag

- [ ] Afterschool special

- [ ] Sex and violence

- [ ] Death takes a holiday

- [ ] On the head of a pin

- [ ] It's a terrible life

- [ ] The monster at the end of this book

- [ ] Jump the shark

- [ ] The rapture

- [ ] When the levee breaks

- [ ] Lucifer rising

Season five

- [ ] Sympathy for the devil

- [ ] Good God, y'all

- [ ] Free to be you and me

- [ ] The end

- [ ] Fallen idols

- [ ] I believe the children are our future

- [ ] The curious case of Dean Winchester

- [ ] Changing channels

- [ ] The real Ghostbusters

- [ ] Abandon all

- [ ] Sam interrupted

- [ ] Swap meet

- [ ] The remains the same

- [ ] My bloody valentine

- [ ] Dead men don't wear plaid

- [ ] Dark side of the moon

- [ ] 99 problems

- [ ] Point of no return

- [ ] Hammer of the gods

- [ ] The devil you know

- [ ] Two minutes to midnight

- [ ] Swan song

Season six

- [ ] Exile on Main Street

- [ ] Two and a Half Men

- [ ] The third man

- [ ] Weed, Bobby

- [ ] Live free or twi-hard

- [ ] Family matters

- [ ] All dogs go to heaven

- [ ] Clap your hands, if you believe

- [ ] Caged heat

- [ ] Appointment with Samarra

- [ ] Like a virgin

- [ ] Unforgiven

- [ ] Mannequin three the reckoning

- [ ] The mistake

- [ ] And then there was none

- [ ] My heart will go on

- [ ] Frontierland

- [ ] Mommy, dearest

- [ ] The man who would be king

- [ ] Let it bleed

- [ ] The man who knew too much

Season seven

- [ ] Meet the new boss

- [ ] Hello, cruel world

- [ ] The girl next-door

- [ ] Defending your life

- [ ] Shut up Dr Phil

- [ ] Slash fiction

- [ ] The mentalists

- [ ] Season seven time for a wedding

- [ ] How to win friends, and influence monsters

- [ ] Death’s door

- [ ] Adventures in babysitting

- [ ] Time after time

- [ ] The slice girls

- [ ] Plucky, Penny whistles, magic, menagerie

- [ ] Repo man

- [ ] Out with the old

- [ ] The born again identity

- [ ] Party on Garth

- [ ] Of grave importance

- [ ] The girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo

- [ ] Reading is fundamental

- [ ] There will be blood

- [ ] Survival of the fittest

Season eight

- [ ] We don't talk about Kevin

- [ ] What's up Tiger mommy

- [ ] Heart ache

- [ ] Bitten

- [ ] Blood brother

- [ ] Southern comfort

- [ ] A slice of Kevin

- [ ] Hunteri heronici

- [ ] Citizen, fang

- [ ] Torn and frayed

- [ ] LARP and the real girl

- [ ] As time goes by

- [ ] Everybody hates Hitler

- [ ] Trial and error

- [ ] Man's best friend with benefits

- [ ] Remember, the Titans

- [ ] Goodbye, stranger

- [ ] Freaks and geeks

- [ ] Taxi driver

- [ ] Pac-Man fever

- [ ] The great escapist

- [ ] Clip show

- [ ] Sacrifice

Season nine

- [ ] I think I'm gonna like it here

- [ ] Devil may care

- [ ] I'm no angel

- [ ] Slumber party

- [ ] Dog Dean afternoon

- [ ] Heaven can't wait

- [ ] Bad boys

- [ ] Rock and a hard place

- [ ] Holy terror

- [ ] Road trip

- [ ] First born

- [ ] Sharp teeth

- [ ] The purge

- [ ] Captives

- [ ] #ThinMan

- [ ] Blade runners

- [ ] Mother's little helper

- [ ] Meta-fiction

- [ ] Alex, Annie, Alexis, ann

- [ ] Bloodlines

- [ ] King of the Damned

- [ ] Stairway to Heaven

- [ ] Do you believe in miracles?

Season ten

- [ ] Black

- [ ] Reichenbach

- [ ] Soul Survivor

- [ ] Paper moon

- [ ] Fanfiction

- [ ] Ask Jeeves

- [ ] Girls girls girls

- [ ] Hibbing, 911

- [ ] The things we left behind

- [ ] The hunter games

- [ ] There's no place like home

- [ ] About a boy

- [ ] Halt and catch fire

- [ ] The executioner song

- [ ] The things they carried

- [ ] Paint it black

- [ ] Inside man

- [ ] Book of the Damned

- [ ] The werther project

- [ ] Dark dynasty

- [ ] The prisoner

- [ ] Brothers keeper

Season eleven

- [ ] Out of the darkness into the fire

- [ ] Form and void

- [ ] The bad seed

- [ ] Baby

- [ ] Thin Lizzie

- [ ] Our little world

- [ ] Plush

- [ ] Just my imagination

- [ ] Oh, brother, where art thou?

- [ ] The devil in the details

- [ ] Into the Mystic

- [ ] Don't forget about me

- [ ] Love hurts

- [ ] The vessel

- [ ] Beyond the mat

- [ ] Safe house

- [ ] Red meat

- [ ] Hells angel

- [ ] The chitters

- [ ] Don't call me Shurley

- [ ] All in the family

- [ ] We happy few

- [ ] Alpha and Omega

Season twelve

- [ ] Keep calm and carry on

- [ ] Mamma Mia

- [ ] The foundry

- [ ] American nightmare

- [ ] The one you've been waiting for

- [ ] Celebrating the life of Asa fox

- [ ] Rock never dies

- [ ] Lotus

- [ ] First blood

- [ ] Lily Sunder has some regrets

- [ ] Regarding Dean

- [ ] Stuck in the middle ( with you )

- [ ] Family feud

- [ ] The raid

- [ ] Somewhere between heaven and hell

- [ ] Ladies drink free

- [ ] The British invasion

- [ ] The memory remains

- [ ] The future

- [ ] Twigs and twine, and Tasha Baines

- [ ] There's something about Mary

- [ ] Who we are

- [ ] All along the watchtower

Season thirteen

- [ ] Lost and found

- [ ] The rising Sun

- [ ] Patience

- [ ] The big empty box

- [ ] Advanced thanatology

- [ ] Tombstone

- [ ] War of the worlds

- [ ] The scorpion and the frog

- [ ] The bad place

- [ ] Wayward sisters

- [ ] Breakdown

- [ ] Various and sundry villains

- [ ] Devil bargain

- [ ] Good intentions

- [ ] A holy man

- [ ] Scoobynatural

- [ ] The thing

- [ ] Bring ‘em back alive

- [ ] Funeralia

- [ ] Unfinished business

- [ ] Beat the devil

- [ ] Exodus

- [ ] Let the good Times roll

Season fourteen

- [ ] Stranger in a strange land

- [ ] Gods and monsters

- [ ] The scar

- [ ] Mint condition

- [ ] Nightmare, logic

- [ ] Optimism

- [ ] Unhuman nature

- [ ] Byzantium

- [ ] The spear

- [ ] Nihilism

- [ ] Damaged goods

- [ ] Profit and loss

- [ ] Lebanon

- [ ] Ouroboros

- [ ] Peace of mind

- [ ] Don't go in the woods

- [ ] Game night

- [ ] Absence

- [ ] Jack-in-the-Box

- [ ] Moriah

Season fifteen

- [ ] Back and to the future

- [ ] Raising hell

- [ ] The rapture

- [ ] Atomic monsters

- [ ] Proverbs 17:3

- [ ] Golden time

- [ ] Last call

- [ ] Our father, who aren't in heaven

- [ ] The trap

- [ ] The heroes journey

- [ ] The gambler

- [ ] Galaxy brain

- [ ] Destiny's Child

- [ ] Last holiday

- [ ] Gimme shelter

- [ ] Drag me away(from you)

- [ ] Unity

- [ ] Despair

- [ ] Inherit the Earth

- [ ] Carry-on

#supernatural #list #episodes #binge watching #the cw #dean winchester #sam winchester #arthur ketch #john winchester #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #castiel #misha collins

2 notes · View notes