#I haven’t mentioned this like once but I need to make it know that Helmut is objectively crushing harder

[curi0uscreature]

* This is a certified classic💥💥

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Love Across the Galaxy 🌌 | Helmut Zemo Imagine

Contains spoilers for GOTG Vol.3

Link to my Marvel masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Baron Helmut Zemo x Roman Goddess/Guardians!reader (romantic), The Thunderbolts—Baron Zemo, Bucky Barnes, Thaddeus Ross, Valentina Alegra De Fontaine, John Walker, Ghost, Justin Hammer, Taskmaster, Yelena, & Red Hulk (platonic), The Guardians of the Galaxy—Quill, Mantis, Nebula, Drax, Rocket, Groot, Kraglin, & Cosmo (platonic)

Content Warnings: profanity, light angst, fluff, mentions of death, fighting & violence, spoilers for GOTG Vol.3 (don’t read if you haven’t seen it!) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.9k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: In which Baron Helmut Zemo, hater of the Avengers and desire to rid the planet of enhanced beings, becomes a member of the antihero team led by General Thaddeus Ross & CIA Director Valentina Fontaine where he meets the legendary group of misfits turned Guardians of the freakin Galaxy and loses his heart to a Goddess with a love for 80s music and talent for cutting of limbs.

Note: GOTG Vol 3 has permanently altered my brain chemistry and I cannot stop thinking about it. Truly the best film since Endgame & it’s inspired me cause I’m also back to loving Zemo again. I refuse to believe Marvel would give us a Thunderbolts film w/o Zemo so I will make sure he’s in this team.

After learning about all the Gods in Thor: Love & Thunder, picture you are Minerva, the Roman Goddess of Wisdom & War (Roman equivalent to the Greek’s Athena) and has cosmic powers similar to the Eternal’s Thena and has been with the Guardians since the events of the first GOTG film.

————————

Fall 2023

“I don’t see why we need these people to help us,” Zemo rolled his eyes, strolling beside General Ross with the rest of the team around them. Once outside the cool breeze hit him, ruffling the lapels of his coat as his eyes squinted from the bright light.

Ross lets out a tired sigh, “Because, Zemo, as much as it galls me to admit it this threat is far beyond what we can deal with. It’s not terrestrial and chances are these…” he had trouble coming up with the word, “let’s just say they’re more experienced for this situation.”

They all stop before the flight line. It’s clear all around them with no sign of an approaching vessel.

“Who are these guys again?” Justin Hammer popped some jelly beans in his mouth. John looks down at the file in his hands, making a face as he does.

“They call themselves…The Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“Oh God,” Bucky moans, immediately making mental notes to protect his mental arm knowing a certain talking animal was on the hunt for it. He was gonna have to sleep with one eye open.

Zemo raises his brow, “Friends of yours, James?” Bucky is not pleased by the assumption.

“I wouldn’t call them that.”

“Aren’t they part of the Avengers?” Ava’s tone is slightly disapproving. While Scott Lang and the Pym/Van Dyne’s helped her, she still got bad rep despite doing what she did to survive.

Zemo, not happy with the idea of working with Avengers, snatches the file from Walker.

“Not technically,” Ross replies while Zemo reads over the page. “They arrived with Thor in 2018 against the first battle with Thanos, remained an associate to the team while continuing whatever the hell it is they do in space, and returned in 2023 to defeat the purple bastard once and for all.”

“Did you fight with them, Bucky?” Yelena asks from beside the soldier.

“Yeah,” the memory appears in his mind. Specifically where he grabbed Rocket by the scruff and spun them in circles to cover more area as they fired off their guns. “Our interactions were brief…but memorable.”

The Baron had seen many things over the years, like the rest of humanity with the formation of the Avengers and reveal of intergalactic and enhanced beings, but to stay he wasn’t thinking, ‘what the fuck?’ by the picture in front of him would be a lie.

An earthling turned ravager, a blue mercenary, a woman with antennas, a genetically engineered raccoon, a living tree, a gray alien that could take down Thor, a man with a metal Mohawk, a telekinetic dog, and an exiled sword wielding Goddess. All misfits and outcasts, mostly space criminals turned superhero guardians of the cosmos.

Well….they were quite the bunch.

“They are not still with the Avengers, I take it?” Zemo wanders around, eyes lingering on the Goddess. White streaks adorned her natural hair color, eyes gold and lips painted with what appeared to be a permanent smirk. She wore a gold and white headpiece that had an owl extending its wings.

Name/Alias: Minerva, Goddess of War; Race: Deity; Planet of Origin: Caelum; Age: approx. 2500 yrs (39 Earth yrs); Occupation: Warrior/Mercenary/Defender of the Andromeda Galaxy; Allegiance: The High Council of Caelum (formerly), Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor, God of Thunder, The Avengers (formerly); Abilities: Cosmic manipulation, enhanced strength, agility, speed, & durability, thermal detection & mental teleportation; Specialization: artillery and battle strategy.

Ross let out a sigh, “only when the planet is about to go to shit due to an intergalactic threat. Which we’ve now got on our hands, but considering the Avengers are all on sabbatical I’m sending you in,” he checks his watch, “but I need all the extra hands and like I said, they’re experienced.”

Zemo stares at the blank sky, “How will we know they've arrived?”

“Believe me,” Ross mutters under his breath. “You’ll know.”

A loud rumbling noise caught everyone’s attention, gazes turning upward as a hexagon shaped breech in the sky revealed a very large spaceship in its wake, followed by the distinct lyrics of AC/DC’s ‘Back to Black.’

“Back in black. I hit the sack. I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back. Yes, I’m let loose. From the noose. That’s kept me hanging about.”

“Oh my,” Yelena breathed out, hair flying back from the gust of wind. Zemo lifted a hand to cover his face from the leaves, as did the others, many wide eyed.

“I’ve been looking at the sky. ‘Cause it’s gettin’ me high. Forget the hearse ‘cause I never die. I got nine lives. Cat’s eyes. Abusin’ every one of them running wild.”

“Great song,” Justin voiced, grinning from ear to ear. The ship made its descent, music getting louder.

“‘Cause I’m back. Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back,” it approached the tarmac, “Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back, back.” wheels hit the tarmac, engine powering down but music still blasting, “Well, I’m back in black,” the ship doors opened, revealing steps extending to the ground, “Yes, I’m back in black.”

It was almost like a scene from a movie. Slow-motion if one will by how the Guardians exited their ship and stepped foot on the tarmac with AC/DC on full volume. All dressed in their new suits of red and blue leather with the Ravager flames on the chest.

Arriving in style.

Quill led with the rest flanking his sides. Drax munching on snacks while Nebula looked menacing and Groot towered over everyone. Cosmo had her tongue out in excitement, Rocket carrying his gun strapped to his back. Mantis’s chin held high, like she was on top of the world and Kraglin trying not to appear lost. Lastly Minerva was drinking a caprisun, Ray Bans covering her gold eyes.

Zemo tilts his head in amusement at the sight. He expected the Goddess, of war nonetheless, to have a more menacing approach like Nebula considering her reputation. But she was just as relaxed and laid back as Drax.

The Guardians walked several paces until they were directly in front of the Thunderbolts. It was then the music stopped, Ross being the first to address them. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

Quill gave a smug grin, “We know.” Hands go to his hips, “You’re wearing a suit so you must be the boss man. Although I believe there’s also a boss lady we’re here to do business with.”

“Director Fontaine is currently occupied. She’ll be arriving in the morning.”

“I assume we won’t be knowing a damn thing until that happens, huh?”

Ross tightens his lips, “You assume correctly.”

“I told you we should’ve handled it on our own,” Minerva’s glances to Quill annoyed. Surprised by her voice, Zemo's eyebrows raised at her sudden input. Her accent was slightly Italian given her mythological origin is Roman.

Quill clicked his tongue, “We don’t have authority here, Minnie.”

“Midgard is part of the Andromeda Galaxy. Technically we should.”

Now the man was giving her a pointed look after Ross’s body language turned defensive, “I’d rather not get our asses thrown in Earth’s prison system. We go by the rules—the ones we established.”

Minerva grumbles under her breath, finishing the last remnants of her juice pouch, “Would’ve finished the job faster. They wouldn’t even know we were here.”

“Okay well, we’re doing things this way. We’re here as a team to work with a team. Right, Mr. Secretary?”

Ross’ disapproving eyes linger on Minerva, who in return rolls her own, before turning his attention back to Quill, “Yes. Now let’s move on shall we?”

He lets out a breath of relief, “Agreed.” Bidding a warning look to each of his teammates, they all wait for what the man in the suit has to say. Ross extends a hand to the people on either side of him.

“This is my team. All with different levels of skill and experience. Justin Hammer is our tech and weapons specialist,” Justin gives a wave, “Yelena Belova,” Ross points to the blonde in a white tactical suit, “former Black Widow and master assassin.” At the mention of Black Widow Rocket, Nebula, and Minerva all tense, faces becoming solemn at the memory of Natasha. They were the three remaining Guardians during the blip, becoming close with the Avenger.

“Ava Starr, she can phase through anything,” they all look impressed, finding the talent cool. “Antonia Dreykov, who we like to call Taskmaster.”

“Why’s that?” Kraglin asked intrigued.

“She has photographic reflexes and can mimic your fighting powers. Basically use your own moves against you.”

“Niceeee,” all the Guardians echo. Ross points to the two individuals in between Zemo and Yelena.

“Our super soldiers, Captain John Walker and I believe you all know Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky tightens his mouth with a curt nod.

“You still got that arm on ya?” Rocket muses, earning a nudge—well more like a kick—from Minerva. The rest of the Thunderbolts besides Bucky all become wide-eyed at the talking Raccoon…even though it said on the file he could.

But how the fuck else were they suppose to react to a talking raccoon?

All Bucky does is glare, “Don’t even think about it.” Rocket shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

“Why is that one carrying a giant frisbee?” Drax’s mouth is filled with Zargnuts. Walker, the man in question, becomes visibly offended.

“It’s a shield not a frisbee.” Zemo bites back a smirk at the soldier's tone. Not to mention the Guardians' reactions were priceless.

“A shield?” Mantis repeats confused.

“It’s a frisbee,” Drax mumbles.

“Like that circular object Minerva conjures to deflect attacks,” Nebula tiredly explains. Mantis’s mouth forms the shape of an ‘o’.

“And lastly,” Ross sounds just as exhausted as the cyborg, “Baron Helmut Zemo, former intelligence operative.”

“I am Groot,” Zemo’s attention goes to the tree alien, confused by his words. Minerva, seeing his expression, addresses it, “He says he likes your fancy cape.”

‘Cape?’ He thinks, but doesn’t comment on it and his perplexed reaction makes Minerva smirk. Instead Zemo says, “Well, I appreciate the compliment. Thank you.” Groot’s pleased, grinning wide like a child.

It’s then Quill’s turn to formally introduce the Guardians. The Thunderbolts bite back their own amusement at the nicknames and surprise of hearing the dog, Cosmo, speak through her suit with a distinct Russian accent. Afterwards Ross leads them all into the hangar, Minerva removing her sunglasses now that she was inside, allowing her gold eyes to be visible.

From there they all interact, awkwardly for the most part as they have no idea what the hell to do as they wait for further instruction. It soon becomes bickering and even challenging someone in hand-to-hand combat.

Well, what can you expect when a team of heroes meet a team of villains/anti heroes? Rivalry at its finest.

“Any day now, Quill,” Minerva groans, relaxing her stance. Across from her several feet away was Walker, confused by why she was taking so long to attack. They were standing in the middle of the squared off area with the teams surrounding them, but giving enough space to avoid being in the crossfire. Quill was scrolling through his Walkmen.

“What’s he doing?” Zemo whispers to Kraglin, eyes flicking back and forth from the human Guardian and the Goddess.

“Trying to find a good fight song. You know, get the vibes going.” Out on the square Minerva lets out a loud huff signaling her annoyance was increasing.

“Just give me another second—.”

“Quill.”

“I almost got it.”

“Pick a goddamn song!”

“Fine!” Quill shouts, randomly selecting the first one his finger hits. A second later Duran Duran’s ‘Hungry Like the Wolf,’ blasts through all the speakers attached to the Guardians arms. The antiheroes become perplexed, while also noting the song choice. Justin and Yelena started to bop their heads.

“Darken the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is afire. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

Minerva smirked, retaking her stance. As she lifts her hands, cosmic energy around her consorts to physical matter, taking the shape of a spear and shield in either hand. Wide eyes take over the Thunderbolts.

“Woman, you want me, give me a sign. And catch my breathing even closer behind. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

“Wow,” Justin exhales. “In touch with the ground. I’m on the hunt, I’m after you.”

“That’s so cool,” Yelena muses, others muttering in agreement. “Smell like the sound, I'm lost in the crowd. And I’m hungry like the wolf.” Keeping his admirations to himself, Zemo watches the scene unfold in silence.

“First one to step or get thrown out of the square loses,” Bucky shouts over the music, “Ready….” Walker clutches the strap of his shield, Minerva twirling her spear once, “Fight!”

“Stalked in the forest, too close to hide,” Walker lets out a cry, charging at the Goddess. “I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do,” Minerva blocks his attack, pushing back slightly only to crouch to swipe at his legs, “High blood drumming on your skin, it’s so tight,” Walker dodges her spear, but fails to avoid her kick to his chest, sending him backward. “You feel my heat, I’m just a moment behind.” He brings his shield up in time as her spear barrels down at him. “Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

They continue their one-on-one for several minutes, both coming close to getting the other out of the square and the song changing to ‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways—a favorite amongst the Guardians. The entire time Zemo was mesmerized to say the least. Every move she made was effortless, showcasing strengths and ability to predict Walker's moves.

He hadn’t felt such attraction to a woman in so long. And here he was experiencing a feeling that was almost unfamiliar.

Ultimately Minerva wins the battle in what one would call a divine move. At the peak of the song, Minerva’s golden eyes glow bright resulting in the eyes of the owl headpiece to also glow and become animated. It takes form, coming to life and soars straight at Walker, throwing him off by covering his face.

“What the���uuugh!!” He’s flying through the air, back meeting the harsh ground with an audible groan. The owl leaves him, returning to Minerva and consorting back into a headpiece. When it does her eyes dim back to their normal hue. Her team broke out into whistles and hollars, meanwhile Walker’s were unimpressed.

“Guardians for the win!” Rocket cheered.

“I am Groot!”

“Never underestimate the power of Duran Duran!”

Minerva helps Walker up, “Not bad, soldier.” As she turns to head off the pad, her eyes lock with Zemo’s and a wink is sent his way. Heat rises in the Baron, glancing away to hide his smirk.

Oh boy, trouble was on the horizon.

Next Yelena went against Nebula. Their fight was even more intense and nearly ended in a draw. Eventually Yelena overpowered the cyborg and got her to step out of the square. It was a tie. Groot and Rocket teamed up against Ross in the form of the Red Hulk—which took a lot of convincing—the two claiming the win after fooling the General. Taskmaster beat out Quill, handing his ass to him which had the Guardians in a heap of laughter.

“I enjoyed that more than I should have,” Minerva teases, crossing her arms as she takes a spot beside Zemo. He glances at her, mirroring her expression.

“Not a common occurrence for your friend to lose a fight?”

She scoffs, “You’d be surprised by his record.”

Lastly Bucky went toe-to-toe with Drax, and of course Rocket had to yell, “Take his arm and give it to me!” And well….it ended with them tackling each other out of the square.They didn’t know who won at that point, so the teams were tied 2-2 initiating a debate on who should be crowned the best.

“Okay, let’s call it a day,” Ross announces, ending the squabbling between the groups. “Night’s upon us and frankly I could use a drink. We’ll return here first thing in the morning—7am sharp to discuss the threat and where to go,” he turns to Quill, “we’ve got sleeping quarters arranged for you all if you please. Otherwise my guess is you’ll remain in your ship?”

About an hour later, after both teams settled for the night, Zemo decided to take a walk around the flight line. It became a habit of his since joining the Thunderbolts. A way to clear his mind after a long day of briefings and training. He basked in the peace that came with being alone, but there were times he felt lonely and longing for company to share the peace with.

Ten years since losing his family and the pain never strayed. Yet, he managed to live with it. He accomplished his goal in 2016 when he tore apart the Avengers. Likely is to blame for the loss against Thanos resulting in half of the universe’s population turning into dust for five years.

Did he feel remorse for the consequences of his actions? Possibly. Did he regret it? No. At this rate he’s accepted the reputation he painted himself to be.

“Zemo, correct?” The sudden intrusion spooked the Baron, jumping slightly by the glowing eyes in the darkness. A moment later Minerva stepped into the lighting, eyes dimming to normal. She was still in her suit, though her hair was pulled back, white streaks seeping through the natural color.

“Yes, but you may call me Helmut,” he replied, nodding in greeting to the Goddess.

“Helmut,” she tests the name, “like the headwear people use when they ride bikes or spacesuits?”

“That’s one way to look at it, but yes I suppose so.”

“Interesting. What brings you out this late in the evening?”

He shrugs, “wanted to get away from the constant complaining of my comrades,” eyes go to the sky, “and I like to admire the stars.” Minerva moves to his right, glancing up as well.

“They’re much more incredible up close.” He peers down at her, not bothering to question her judgment. She lives in space after all.

“I bet so. I’m sure the view from here is nothing compared to what you’ve witnessed.”

She shrugs, “These stars you don’t even know if they’re still alive. It took years—possibly millions—for the light to reach Earth.” Zemo looks back up, focusing on the North Star.

“For all we know they burnt out ages ago.”

Their eyes connect, Zemo feeling a weight on his chest by the intensity of her gaze. It’s followed by unease when she says, “Natasha told me about you.”

Instantly he looks away, feeling an unfamiliar wave of dread. “Ah.” Here was a discussion he was not expecting, nor willing, to have.

But Minerva didn’t show criticism. In fact, her gaze and tone resembled understanding. “How do you do it?” The question took him aback.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Align yourself with people who go against what you stand for?” Minerva’s tone wasn’t condescending at all, only curious. “Most of your team are enhanced individuals—two are super soldiers to be exact. You went to many lengths to disband the Avengers and put an end to superheroes,” there’s a slight tilt of her head, eyeing the Baron with intrigue, “but you join a group consisting of people who fall between the spectrum of hero and villain where most are the exact thing you wished to eradicate. Not to mention led by two people you wouldn’t say you share similar moral values with. Why join them?”

For the first time in his life, Zemo was at a loss for words. Not a single word uttered as he tried to comprehend what Minerva had just confronted him with. How could he explain? Hell, he didn’t even know the real truth other than wanting to stay out of his cell. A big price to pay in exchange for freedom.

Minerva spoke again before he could respond, “I once committed an act similar to you,” the surprise is evident on Zemo, “Vengeance against those who were responsible for the death of my loved ones. It’s why I was exiled,” a frown appears, her attention returning to the stars. “So I understand you, probably better than anyone here. Understand why you committed those acts to destroy the Avengers. I don’t fault you for what you did—if I did it would make me a hypocrite. You’re not the villain Ross and the Avengers made you out to be.”

“How so?” His voice is strained, “what have you lost?” He didn’t mean to come off as defensive, but the conversation was bringing up emotions Zemo didn’t want to face.

“As Goddess of War all I knew was bloodshed. How to prevent it and how to fight it. Battle strategy was my domain, and the High Council knew better than to question my judgment,” she releases an exhale, “but Mars, the God of War and my brother, was my ultimate rival. He hated how much our father doted on me and agreed with plans I coordinated. It made him feel inferior. He’d do anything to prove himself.” Her tone remains neutral despite the painful memory surfacing.

Zemo remained quiet, picturing the scene as Minerva relayed it. Though stoic the Baron could see the pain and sadness lurking behind her eyes. Managing it as best she could for the sake of her friends. Who knows how many years it’d been since she lost whoever it was close to her. But the hole would always remain.

“To put it short,” she started again, bidding a glance, “Our home was under attack and his rash decision to slow down the enemy led to the death of my family—my husband and children.” Sympathy arose in the Baron, understanding her anguish, “An intentional move on Mars’ part because he believed I wouldn’t be fit to remain on the High Council after stuffing such a loss, therefore he would take my place as Head Commander of our armies and my father’s second Command.”

“He wasn’t exiled?” The question left Zemo before he could stop it. Confused by how the God avoided persecution for his crime, Minvera was shunned. “Your family was targeted.”

Minerva’s smile was bitter, “because their deaths were a result of war, the High Council viewed it as collateral. They failed to see Mars’ responsibility, believing he didn’t intend to kill them. So, I took it upon myself to bring justice. Not only to Mars but also the High Council.” Her smile fell once more, “I made sure they would pay. And they did, but it was far from over after finishing the job. Those who survived didn’t hesitate to throw me out to the wolves once I was contained.”

Zemo nods his head, “where did you go afterward if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was imprisoned on Xandar for some time,” well they certainly had some things in common, “Once I escaped I became what your people would call a bounty hunter. Where it led me to meeting those clowns I now call my family,” she pauses before adding, “and escaping prison for a second time. Only it was to save the Galaxy.”

The laugh that escapes Zemo surprises him, “I guess it all worked out then.” Once more they lock eyes, twinkling against the stars shining down above.

“I suppose it did.”

Three Years Later

Zemo raced out the door the moment he awoke to rumbling that shook the foundation of his home. After three years he’d recognize the sound in an instant, only this time it was without warning.

An action that rarely occurred.

Throwing on his coat and house slippers, the clock read 2:30 am, flooding the Baron with worry. ‘What is she doing here at this hour?”

Usually when Minerva drops in she gives Zemo a heads up. A day or two’s notice, but recently he couldn’t get a hold of her and passed it off as the Guardians on a job. With the unexpected visit, so late at night, Zemo instantly knew something was wrong.

Hurrying out to the front lawn right as her ship landed, Zemo jogged to where the stairs extended. When they did, the doors revealed his Goddess, still wearing her suit, standing before him. Zemo noted the exhaustion painting her demeanor. Dark circles beneath her eyes, which appeared dimmer than usual, and scars indicating recently healed wounds.

His arms are around her the moment she’s within distance, her own around his neck, “This is a surprise.”

“Sorry I didn’t call,” the exhaustion was evident in her voice. Barely above a whisper causing Zemo to tighten his hold.

“It’s alright, darling. I’m just glad to see you are okay,” his hand runs along her hair, “wanna tell me what happened?” He hears her sniff, increasing his dread, “Close call?”

“Too many,” her voice cracks and there’s a pause. “We almost lost Rocket. We saved him thankfully, but then we nearly lost Peter. And I almost—,” she stops short, not wanting to relive her near death experience. “This was…it was too much for all of us, Helmut.” A kiss is pressed to her head, offering comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, mein schatz.” Zemo leads Minerva into the home, sitting her in the living room while he goes to put a kettle on the stove. Filling two cups of cherry blossom tea, Minerva’s favorite, he joins her in the living room.

After taking her first sip of the brew, Minerva removes the headpiece from her hair and makes herself comfortable before giving Zemo a play-by-play of the past three days. He stays quiet, listening intently but visibly reacts with each awful detail Minvera relays to him. From the unexpected attack from Adam Warlock, to the disgusting abuse Rocket endured at the hands of the High Evolutionary, to Quill nearly imploading in space had it not been for Adam’s change of heart.

Zemo’s knuckles turned white when Minerva spoke of what happened to her. Anger consumed him and he wished he had been there to protect her. Seeing his distress Minerva placed her hand on his, gently squeezing, “I’m okay, Helmut. I’m here now and we all made it out. There were many close calls, but we’re all alive and that’s what matters.”

Taking her hand, Zemo brought it up to brush his lips against her fingers, softly kissing her knuckles. “I don’t know what I would've done if I lost you, Minnie. I—-,” he stops himself to exhale, squeezing his eyes shut, “I would’ve found a way to fly across the galaxy to avenge you.”

“I know you would,” she murmurs, removing her hand but positioning herself in his lap. Arms snake around his neck, pulling him so they were inches apart. “I’d expect nothing less. Also I’d be a hypocrite considering I would do the same for you.” A playful smirk formed, “I was already plotting when Ross let you get captured by those bastards last year. Had it ended any other way, Ross would cease to exist.”

Zemo snickered, “I see we haven’t really changed completely despite our friends believing the opposite. Neither of us hesitating to return to old ways if it comes down to such circumstances.”

She smirks, “No, I don’t suppose we haven’t.”

“What a pair we are,” leaning in, his lips meet hers in a soft caress. Warmth seeping through his veins. That effortless high he believed he’d never have again after the loss of his family.

But he found it with a Goddess in the stars. Where love swept across the galaxy.

When they pull away after a moment, Zemo keeps his forehead against hers. Gold meeting brown. “I’m not sure I can let you go now, liebling. At least not for a while.”

“You never have to anymore,” her words have him startled, the man pulling away slightly to get a better look at her.

“What are you saying?”

Minerva’s gaze turns soft, though there’s slight nervousness, “After everything we all realized something. We found the family we were searching for, but some of us needed to find ourselves. Peter’s here on Earth to find his grandfather. Mantis is off on her own adventure. Drax and Nebula are on Knowhere to help raise the children we saved from the High Evolutionary. Rocket and Groot are leading a new era of the Guardians. And me,” she stops, emitting a gaze full of love that takes Zemo’s breath away. “I’d like to be here. With you, Helmut. If you’ll have me.”

If his heart could explode from the happiness Zemo was feeling it would. Tears were threatening to prick his eyes, the Baron willing himself to remain composed. “Oh, Schatz,” he croaked, cupping the side of her jaw. “I should be the one asking you that. Of course I’ll have you. I love you more than every star in the galaxy.” With that he kisses her, putting all his love and passion it causes her own eyes to water.

“I love you too,” she kisses him again. They remain on the couch, falling asleep eventually curled up in each other’s embrace. Their last thoughts filled with joy as they awaited the new adventure on the horizon.

An adventure just between them. A reinstated Goddess and a fully pardoned Baron opening the next chapter of their lives. Together.

[morguevampire]

(Un) Fortunate Encounters - Chapter 4

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Masterlist for this fic

summary:  With your body needing rest you fall into a sort of routine at the Baron's mansion. Which doesn't mean you trust him. It's mostly a back and forth between the two of you.

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of torture, drinking, mild alcoholism, dark themes, slow build romance, not really Stockholm syndrome but that’s up for interpretation 

chapter: 4/?

word count: 2.121k

pairings: Helmut Zemo x fem!Reader

author’s note: Hey yo, 

there ya go. Chapter 4! 

Honestly not sure about this chapter but let's just blame it on uni being stressful and my brain being fried. I really tried my best, going over it a few times but at last I figured I'd post it because I was afraid that if I didn't keep up the regular updates I would just abandon this story. 

Let me know what you think! I promise to do better for the next one! Comments, kudos etc. are welcome, as well as feedback :) 

Adios

You can also find this work on https://archiveofourown.org/works/43158162/chapters/108965257

It’s almost midday when you wake up the next morning. Your exhaustion completely took over you and you find yourself surprised at having slept soundly through the night. It takes you another good hour of contemplating your life and the current situation until you finally crawl out of the comfort of the warm bed and into the bathroom to freshen up.

Your dreamless slumber and general fatigue didn’t necessarily leave you with much capacity to mull over whether you wanted to accept the invitation of staying with a murderer or strike out on your own and most likely get killed by other murderers but really, perhaps unconsciously you had already made up your mind.

As you head down the stairs towards the living room you find the house quiet and unoccupied. You decide to explore the space, perhaps finding Zemo in the dining room or wherever all the other paths of the mansion led to.

Carefully, almost as if you were an intruder you make your way through the dining room, where just the evening before you had dinner with a god forsaken terrorist. Another door leads into the modern kitchen, fully equipped with appliances you could only afford to dream of and a big island with stools on one side. One wall was lined with full glass, overlooking a lush forest which made you conclude that the house was most likely in the middle of nowhere. You stand in front of the windows, memorized by the scenery when Oeznik quietly enters the room, startling you as he interrupts your daydreaming.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Miss Y/N?”

You accept eagerly, realizing you haven’t had your coffee fix in almost three days. Oeznik informs you that the Baron was out on an errand. He disappears shortly after handing you your cup and you decide to sit down in the living room once again, staring out of the windows there or roaming through the shelves of books while enjoying your freshly brewed coffee.

You were almost finished when you heard the front door open and close, expecting the Baron to appear shortly after.

“Good morning. I thought I’d get some of your belongings from your apartment so you’d feel more comfortable.”

You stare at the two duffle bags that he hauled onto the couch.

“So, you just assumed I would stay?”

“Aren’t you?”

His condescending tone once again annoying you,´; you challenge him, even though he is right. His whole demeanor oozes arrogance and a know-all attitude which pisses you off, not just on him but on humans in general.

You’re almost too proud to answer him, his face once again wearing a slight smirk.

Most likely with too much force and looking clumsier than you intended it to be, you snatch the two duffle bags and simply mumble a hasty “thanks” before storming off towards your room once again, leaving the Baron to huff out a quiet laugh at your temperament.

In your room you go through the duffle bags. They’re filled to the brim with clothes, surprisingly a lot of your favorites. Toiletries are also neatly packed, which makes you cringe a bit at the thought of this man going through your bathroom. You’re sort of at a loss when you discover your nowadays not so stuffed little plush duck in there. It’s a little greyish thing, used to be white but that was a long time ago, its head not really upright anymore. It’s usually hosted on your bed and you haven’t stopped sleeping with it since you were about five years old. You were oddly sentimental over this thing, holding it in your arms now. It gave you a sort of safety to know you had it with you.

You sort through the rest of the stuff, happy with having a bit of your life back but also unsure as the amount gave you a feeling you’d be staying for longer than you initially hoped.

The only thing that’s really missing in the bags is your phone, or your notebook. You suppose it’s because of the very obvious reason that technical devices would mean communications to the police or the outside world which most likely don’t overlap with the Baron’s plans for you. It still makes you frustrated.

Once you descend the stairs again you find the man who just an hour ago went through your private belongings sitting on the kitchen island, a laptop in front of him.

“I want my phone.”

He looks at you somewhat surprised that you would even dare to ask such a stupid question.

“Not possible.” He scoffs. “At least for now.”

You roll your eyes, once again annoyed and already regretting your decision to even come down here.

When you inquire about the duration of your more or less forced stay, or the progress in his strategy to get his enemies off your back he gives you cryptic, monotone answers. None the wiser and feeling defeated you sit down on one of the high barstools furthest away from him. Once again absently staring out of the window. Out of the corner of your eye you see him shuffling around the kitchen but you completely zoom out and don’t really take in anything he’s saying until a plate with food on it is placed in front of you.

“You should eat.” Is all he says before picking up his laptop, leaving you alone once more.

********

A few uneventful days fly by. In a weird, twisted sort of way your life found a routine. With your body still being in the healing process you spent most of your days sleeping, or dozing in your room. You couldn’t remember the last time in your life you actually had the time to just do nothing. No distractions, no guilty feelings about being unproductive. Even if you wanted to, there was nothing to do. The times you did wander downstairs to pass over the time, you usually found yourself drawn to the book shelves in the living room. Browsing through the titles and mostly being too afraid to touch vintage looking ones.

You were never a crazy reader, but you did go through your phases and always wished for more time for the activity. Often work or general adult-duties kept you from it and the forced technology detox helped you appreciate books more.

The Baron wasn’t around too much. Usually in the morning or rather midday Oeznik would offer coffee and breakfast to you and quickly disappeared out of sight once you sat down on the kitchen counter, staring out at the woods. You’d encounter Zemo randomly throughout the day, never saying too much and mostly trying to be out of his way as much as possible. Your trust in him was still uncertain and he didn’t seem to try to make much of an effort in gaining it. The only consonant was your shared dinner, usually something hearty, the two of you on the large dining table. It felt awkward, the only conversation usually being him checking up on your general wellbeing and health condition.

He’d always seem so unbothered by the tension in the room, while you were constantly in flight mode. Even though he had more or less shown you hospitality, always been polite and tried to stay out of your business, he still made you uncomfortable. He seemed so sure of everything, his position, your position while not really giving you any answers to your questions, yet still underneath concerned about you. You couldn’t figure him out.  

You were relieved once these dinners would end and you could go curl up in bed once again – just to have a deep dreamless sleep.

It surprised you how easy sleep came to you, considering you were usually an overthinker with insomniac tendencies whenever your mind was occupied with personal struggles.

You should have seen it coming, there was only so many hours of rest your injured body would need before your unconscious mind decided to plague you with nightmares.

It comes on the fourth night at the mansion.

You jolt up chocking. Your lungs desperately grasping for air. It takes you a moment to realize where you are. The room, your room. Your head isn’t underwater. You aren’t back in the warehouse. You’re safe now, he said.

You drag your forearm across the top of your head, realizing just how much you sweated. Still not fully awake and back to reality you slump back down, breathing hard and trying to control your emotions. You’ve been rescued, your wounds are healing, the bruises are fading, you’re safe. But you’re also still locked up. Forced to stay in a safe house of a man who killed innocent lives. 

You toss and turn for an hour or so, slipping in and out of consciousness, that feeling of fear, torture and pain always coming back. The clock on the little bedside table reads 3:38 a.m. when you decide to give up. You wouldn’t fall back asleep anytime soon and the room suddenly feels too claustrophobic, the chocking feeling in your throat becoming more intense as the minutes tick by.

You decide to head downstairs into the living area, selecting the book you started to read days prior. Only it didn’t quite manage to distract you from the night’s terrors.

Curled up under a cashmere blanket on the big leather couch your body was still tense and you couldn’t concentrate on any of the words in the book. You don’t know how much time has passed when a low voice interrupts your blank staring at the letters.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

The Baron entered, a steaming cup of tea in his hand, heading towards you.

You only shake your head, feeling uncomfortable in being called out.

He doesn’t ask you, just holds the steaming cup of what you smelled to be chamomile tea in front of you. Hesitantly you take it from him, not trusting his intentions.

It seems as if he’s giving you space to talk on your own, even though he sits down right next to you, close enough to make your body tense up again.

After a few sips in heavy silence you slowly begin to speak.

“Why are you up?”

He was still dressed in his street wear. Black trousers and a gray knitted sweater.

“Insomnia.” He answers with a shrug, turning his head to look in your direction, focusing his brown eyes on you and pursing his lips before he continues. “Let me guess… nightmares?”

You nod.

“It’s the natural reaction of your brain and body to all the horrors you’ve experienced in the past week.”

A nod again, this time faintly annoyed at his smart talking and prying into your personal matters.

“I am sorry for your pain. This might not help, but I do empathize with what you’re going through. I have had my fair share of nightmares and PTSD.”

“We’re not the same.”

You mumble and break eye contact, not being able to take his soft, pitying look anymore. You don’t want his empathy and you certainly don’t want to empathize with him. If he wants to open up about his past or his struggles he should see a therapist, not load it onto the woman he kidnapped.

You fumble around with the handle of the tea cup for a bit, wishing to just be on your own again.

“What are you reading?”

You show him the cover of the book. Walden by Henry David Thoreau.

“Can’t really concentrate on the words though.”

“Would you like me to read to you?”

You most likely don’t hide your surprise well but he only chuckles and motions for you to had him the book, still lying open in your lab. You do and not soon after find yourself half lain down on your spot, feet curled up and eyes fluttering shut as Zemo’s low, accented voice carried you into a solidary life in the woods.

You’re not sure at what point you fell asleep but as you drift in and out of a calm slumber his voice is always there, a consonant that your unconsciousness latches onto for distraction. A guide into a numb sleep.

********

You awake in your bed the next morning. Hazily trying to remember if you’ve only dreamed of the Baron reading to you and trying to figure out how you ended up in your room. It must have really happened as you faintly remember being pulled out of sleep for a second as he lifted you in his arm and carried you upstairs, brushing the hair out of your face softly, before leaving your room, letting your tired mind rest.

And you felt safe. And cared for.

[dragon-kazansky]

Your knight in a fur coat | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @cherry-season

Warnings: Arachnophobia. Figured I should just mention it before you read.

Judging by the volume of your screaming alone, anyone would think you were being murdered. However, your only house companion right now, other than the demon in your room, was Zemo, so Sam and Bucky wouldn't be able to blame this on him, at least.

The house had been otherwise quiet until that point. Zemo and had seen you go upstairs shortly after the other two left. He had continued to mill about downstairs, keeping himself occupied.

Then, shattering any thread of peace, you screamed from the top of your lungs.

For a moment he froze. The screaming stirring something within him. The past he hoped fo leave behind came rushing back. It wasn't until he heard your voice calling for help that he snapped back to reality and took off like lightning. He skipped every other step as he leaped up the stairs and dashed down the hall.

Who ever was bringing you harm would regret ever crossing him.

Zemo pushed open your door with all the strength he had, eyes darting around the room wildly. He was worried he would be once again too late. Sam and Bucky would kill him if you got hurt, or worse, whilst being left alone with him.

However, the scene he was presented with was unusual, to the say the least. You would standing on your bed, a thick book in your hands, as your eyes flickered from spot on the floor to another.

"What are you doing? I thought you were being murdered or something?"

He was beyond relieved to see you in one peace, alive and well. As you should be.

"There's a monster in here!" You hissed, looking to your right sharply, thinking you saw the blasted thing.

"A monster?" Perhaps you've gone mad?

"Yes, the purest evil on the planet, and it's in this room!" You say, now looking to your left all of a sudden.

"Funny," he smirked, "considering I'm in the room with you."

"You're not evil, but this thing is."

"Bold statement." Zemo looked at you curiously.

"Are you going to help, or am I going to have to tell the boys you left me for dead when I was trouble?" You hiss at him.

"If you die, you won't be able to tell them."

"Don't get smart with me, Zemo." You glare at him. "THERE IT IS!" You throw the book you were holding. It lands with a thud not too far from his feet.

"Me?"

"No, stupid, that evil eight legged fucker!"

Zemo lets your words sink in. Eight legged? Oh.

"Do you mean to tell me you're up there like a scared little kitten because there's a spider in here somewhere?"

"YES! Also, don't call me a kitten, I'm ferocious."

"Right... You don't look very ferocious up there." Zemo walks over to the bed and looks up at you.

"Zemo, please." Your voice had dropped to a pleading whisper, "help me."

The way you were looking at him was tugging at his heartstrings. He didn't say anything as he got down on his knees and looked around the underneath of the bed. You were on your knees in the bed, looking over the edge.

"Do you see it?" There was a quiver to your voice. For some reason he didn't like that.

"No, little bird, I don't."

"Little bird?"

Zemo looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Do you not like that?"

"I didn't say that, it's just... you haven't called me that before." Your voice was a lot more level right now.

"I won't do it again."

"I... I didn't mean... you couldn't."

Zemo chuckles softly as he gets up, he stands at the very edge.

"Come here."

"What, why?" You look at him suspiciously.

"I don't see your little demon, so I'm going to take you downstairs and come back. I will search your room thoroughly, and won't stop until it's gone." He holds out his arms toward you.

You look at him suspiciously for a moment longer before shuffling over to him and letting him pick you up. He holds you so gently, yet securely, as he adjusts you in his arms, then he walks toward the open door. You hold on tightly as he moves, he chuckles right next to your ear. Zemo carries you all the way downstairs, no putting you down until you reach the sofa. He places you on it gently and stands upright.

"I'll be back shortly."

You watch Zemo go, unable to stop yourself from thinking he's being brave. How could he stand to be in a room with that little fucker scurrying around up there? Of course he's brave. You had always known he was. After everything he had been through, it made sense this was nothing to him.

You curl up on the sofa.

Sam and Bucky return, seeing you curled into a ball in your own.

"You alright?" Sam asks, coming over to check on you.

You nod, "I'm OK now, Zemo rescued me."

"Rescued you? From what? Did something happen?" Bucky asks, worrying about you.

"I saw a spider... he came to my rescue."

The boys looked at you softly, both knowing about your phobia.

"You sure, you're good?" Sam asked, making sure.

"Yeah, he's up there now. Zemo is brave."

"Zemo is a loose cannon," Sam mutters. You hit his shoulder softly.

"He saved me, be nice."

The moment Zemo comes back, making his way downstairs, you sit upright and give him all your attention.

"Is it gone?"

"Yes, little bird, it's gone. I put it outside." Zemo smiles softly at you.

"Thank you!" You get up and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Zemo is startled for a moment, but his arms settle around you and hold you close. He smirks at the other two who are glaring at him.

"You're very welcome, my dear." He even goes as far to kiss your temple.

You're a blushing mess, refusing to turn around so Sam and Bucky couldn't see your face.

"I'm going to go back upstairs now." You shuffle around Zemo.

"Just shout if you need me, dear."

You don't say anything as you disappear out of sight.

Sam and Bucky continue to glare at Zemo who is looking smug about the whole ordeal.

@ajeff855

[valwentinefics]

Instincts - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader (omegaverse) 18+

Plot: Y/n, an unmated omega, forgets to get a refill of her suppressants, sending her into her heat while at work. Luckily for her notorious criminal and alpha Helmut Zemo is hiding out in the backroom. (Takes place after episode 4 of tfatws)

A/n: First of all I’m sorry, second of all I’m sorry, third of all, You’re welcome. This is my first time writing omegaverse so it’s probably not the best and I haven’t read an omegaverse fic in a hot minute. Sorry my smut is always so short, I really gotta work on that.

Warnings: smut, normal a/b/o things, possessive dirty talk, mentions of omegas being harmed, mentions of fear of being assaulted. (if i missed anything please let me know)

As an unmated omega, Y/n knew well of the dangers of the world. Everywhere she looked alphas lurked around looking for their own omega, a rare thing to have in this society. Although omegas were coveted and prized they were still at the bottom of the hierarchy and were expected to be subservient to whatever alpha marked them, a thought that terrified Y/n. Stories of alphas that harmed omegas were sickeningly common, and with everyone plastering on fake kindness in hopes to place their mark on her neck, Y/n was terrified she would end up a statistic.

Suppressants were Y/n’s saving grace, an illegal method to mask her true nature from the world and pose as a beta where she could live her life peacefully, something she could never do as an omega. If she were to get caught she could face serious time in a correctional facility built just for omegas to learn their place in the world, and so every day was filled with caution and fear.

“God I look like shit.” Y/n’s heavy eyes looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes deep and only looking worse due to the harsh fluorescent light buzzing away above her. The illegal suppressants had many side effects ranging from life threatening to mildly troublesome, but the one that affected Y/n most was the inability to fall asleep. Each night was spent tossing and turning, her body feeling restless. 

Sluggishly Y/n grabbed her concealer, dabbing it on beneath her eyes, her hands shaking with exhaustion. She finished with a sigh, running her hands through her hair to remove any major knots. She didn’t have the energy to fully go through her hair, not seeing the point. She was hidden as a beta anyways, no one would give her a second glance. Y/n opened the medicine cabinet, looking for the white box of suppressants, only to not find it anywhere. Her stomach sank as she realized she forgot to get her refill yesterday. It would be fine though, she hoped. She had gone without them before and hadn’t gone in heat, surely it would be the same thing this time, but for some reason there was a nagging feeling in her mind it wouldn’t be.

Y/n grabbed her perfume, spraying it on herself. The scent was cinnamon, similar to her natural scent as an omega, but it had the slight acrid scent of being a perfume. She hoped that would be enough to convince the alphas she passed by that she was just a beta wearing perfume. It wasn’t something she used often, only when her overtired brain didn’t remember to get the refill of her suppressants. 

“That's good enough, I hope.” Y/n mumbled to herself. She smoothed out her short sundress, the light flowy fabric ending at her mid thigh. It was her favourite dress, she felt and knew she looked cute in it. Y/n didn’t like to wear things like this often, she didn’t want the attention of anyone, but frankly she felt like shit and needed the joy looking nice brought her.

The walk to the flower shop had Y/n’s body feeling hot, however she assumed it was the warm weather, not wanting her paranoia to make her miss work. The flower shop she owned was Y/n’s only source of income and it wasn’t a bad one at that. It was common for alpha’s to come in and buy bouquets to give to the first omega they see on the streets in an attempt to woo them. That was another reason Y/n refused to accept her status as an omega. Every bit of romance was just disingenuous. Alpha’s only wanted to have the honour of being chosen by an omega, they didn’t care about who that omega was. However, Y/n was happy it paid her bills.

-

The day went by smoothly until closing time when Y/n turned off the open sign, the neon light no longer lighting up the darkening street outside. As she grabbed her keys to leave a sharp pain went through her abdomen, causing a gasp to escape her throat. She rested a hand on the painful area, eyes wide. She should have listened to her instincts, she should have stayed home, but she didn’t and now she was going into heat in her store. Y/n paced, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t go home, walking would be near impossible for her with her heat approaching fast. She would have to wait it through in her shop with no relief. 

“Oh fuck…” Y/n groaned in pain, leaning against the wall. She knew she had to find something to eat to get the strength to get through this. With shaky steps she headed to the back, her hand glued to her abdomen as if that would alleviate her pain. As she approached the door to the back room her blood went cold, her nose picking up the faint scent of an alpha through the thick door. 

She debated opening it. Her instincts were telling her to open it and get his help with the heat, her brain told her it could be dangerous. Eventually decided to confront him, to ask what he was doing and maybe for his help getting home if he didn’t seem too awful. With her keys clutched between her fingers just in case, she slowly opened the door, her body almost melting at the scent that wafted to her.

A man dressed in a long coat with a fur collar stared back at her with shock, the scent of pine trees wafting off of him. “Omega…?” He spoke with a Sokovian accented voice. It took Y/n a few moments before the identity of the dangerously handsome man registered in her mind. She had seen him on the news. He was Helmut Zemo, the man who almost single handedly destroyed the Avengers.

Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate. “You’re Helmut Zemo… What- what are you doing here?” She asked, fixing her posture to appear assertive and trying her best to resist the urge to submit right there. A mixture of fear and arousal was filling her body to the point where she thought she might explode.

“So you’ve heard about me?” He tilted his head slightly. “I needed a place to hide for a bit, I’ve been scoping this place out. You’re the owner, Y/n, correct?” Y/n gulped but nodded, worried about why he was hiding out. “That doesn’t matter right now. Why are you here? It’s not safe for an omega in heat to be out in public.” He scolded as if Y/n didn’t know that. It was odd, having the notorious criminal seem to care about her safety. She wondered what he was trying to achieve, if anything.

“It wasn’t my choice okay?” She snapped, a wave of pain washed over her and she slumped against the door frame with a groan. Zemo got up, moving to her quickly but stopping once Y/n had flinched, worried he was going to try something.

“You need to get home, where’s your car? I'll escort you there.” He said, his voice was strained and Y/n’s eyes couldn’t help but land on the growing bulge in his pants. He was going into a rut which explained his current caring and protective nature. Her mouth watered at the thought of having his cock in her mouth but she tore her eyes away, looking to the side to avoid him. 

“I don’t have a car… too expensive.” She groaned out, her breaths growing to pants as she started to overheat, fanning herself with her hand.

Zemo let out a staggered exhale, running his hand through his formerly perfectly done hair. “What’s your address? I’ll bring you there myself.” Y/n was impressed at the amount of self control this alpha had. Even as his rut was beginning he managed to stay calm and collected for the most part, but Y/n knew it was hard for him, sweat ran down his forehead as he strained to keep control.

Reluctantly Y/n told him her address knowing he was her best bet at getting home safely. A whimper escaped her throat as she felt her slick begin to drip down her thigh. She clenched her legs together, desire seeping into every part of her. She wanted the alpha’s knot more than anything she had ever wanted before. She could hardly focus on what Zemo was doing, not noticing he had draped his coat over her and picked her up until they were already out the door.

Zemo didn’t breathe as often as he needed while he walked, trying not to inhale Y/n’s scent as he moved at a quick pace, shooting piercing glares at every passerby that dared look their way. He felt protective over the little omega. His cock strained uncomfortably against his pants as his mind filled with thoughts of mating with her, but he pushed them back, not wanting to take advantage of her. Arriving at the apartment building he used her keys to unlock the door to the humble apartment, locating her room and placing her down on her bed. Y/n took off his coat and offered it back.

“You can keep the jacket for now, I’ll come back for it once you’re done with your heat.” He said, quickly turning around. Y/n’s hand shot out, grabbing his gloved hand.

“Please alpha, don't leave, help me.” She whimpered. Y/n didn’t know where that had come from, but she didn’t regret it, knowing it wasn’t just her heat talking. He was powerful, respectful, not to mention handsome. Everything a good mate should be, even though Y/n knew mating with a dangerous man like him was out of the question. Y/n found herself liking the man despite knowing what he had done and not knowing him long. She knew he would treat her well during her heat, if he accepted.

“Are you sure omega?” He asked, not facing her in fear that he would pounce on her as soon as he saw the desire in her eyes. 

“Yes alpha, please…” Y/n whimpered again, giving his hand a small tug. “I need you”

That was all he needed to lose control. Zemo turned around to face her, stalking to the bed as he removed his shirt, straddling Y/n’s warm needy body. Her smaller hands reached out, undoing his belt and palming Zemo’s cock through his pants. Y/n couldn’t help the filthy thoughts that flooded her mind, desire for the dangerous man’s knot consuming her.

Zemo let out a groan, taking off his pants and boxers, letting his painfully hard cock free. Y/n’s eyes were clouded with lust as she leaned forward, mouth open and ready to suck it. He tapped the side of her cheek with his cock, running his hand through her hair and gripping it.

 “No liebling, this is about you. I can wait for another time.” He let go of her hair and Y/n laid down, watching the alpha as he took off her panties and put her legs over his shoulders, running his cock slowly up and down her folds and coating itself in her slick, the tip teasing her as it came so close to going in. Y/n let out a little whine, letting him know she was growing impatient. “I apologize omega, it’s rude of me to tease.” He smirked before shoving himself all the way in easily.

Y/n’s toes curled as she let out a loud gasping moan, throwing her head back in pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, the position they were in allowing him to reach every part of her with ease. His hands ran up and down her waist as he let out a deep moan. Y/n’s eyes were locked on him as he fucked her deeply, causing her to let out a whimper of pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you little omega, taking my cock so well.” He reached over to cup her cheek in his hand, rubbing circles into the soft flesh with his thumb. “Does it feel good?” His hand dropped from her cheek and began to rub her clit with just enough roughness to send her over the edge, a loud moan escaping her as she came.

“Yes, fuck! harder, please!” She said between moans, her hands tangling themselves in Zemo’s hair and gripping it as she panted.

Zemo moaned as he re-adjusted her legs on his shoulders, picking up the pace. “This pussy of yours, it’s mine now. I’ll fuck you through this heat and every heat you have next.” He growled, hitting Y/n’s sweet spot, making her cry out in ecstasy. 

Y/n felt warm inside at his words. Her pussy clenched around his cock as the stimulation from him rubbing her clit and pounding into her sent her over the edge again, panting as she came hard. He was good at making her feel good, and for once Y/n was glad she was an omega.

“Fuck, you feel so good clenched around me. Do you want my knot in you, little omega? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?” He asked cockily, receiving a desperate whine from Y/n.

“Please, please, please!” She begged, the only thoughts filling her mind were those of need for his knot buried deep into her. 

“How can I refuse... when you’re asking so nicely, liebling.” He spoke between grunts. His thrusts slowly became more sloppy and deep and Y/n knew he was about to cum.

With one last deep thrust Zemo buried his cock all the way into Y/n’s pussy, his knot trapping the two together as he emptied his cum into Y/n. She felt so full in a good way, her breaths heavy with exhaustion as she internally frowned at the thought of Zemo pulling out of her. His knot alleviated the worst of her heat and as she laid there sore and sweaty, her now clearer mind had no regrets about what had happened. 

Zemo pulled out after a while, his knot going away. A smile danced on his lips as he saw the cum dripping out of her as he pulled out his cock. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed as she moved to a more comfortable position on the bed. Zemo grabbed his jacket from the floor, dusting it off and draping it over the omega’s tired form. Hesitantly he hovered over her before pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head, deeply inhaling her scent. 

Not wanting to intrude any more, he got dressed and walked over to the couch, exhaustion filling his body as he slumped down onto it, closing his eyes with a smile. He could tell he would need all the rest he could get while he rode out the omega’s heat with her. He was so happy he decided to hide out at that flower shop.

-

Tags: @peculiar-monstar​ @lovelyzabrak-meadow​ @captainsherlockwinchester110283​

[zemosreader]

make believe ⎛ oneshot ⎠

MAIN PAIRING: Zemo x reader.

summary: in a fit of madness, you ask Zemo to be your date to Tony's wedding.

warnings: fake!dating, mentions of past Tony Stark x reader (implied).

word count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

You bounced on the balls of your feet as you went over the argument in your head once more. It was probably the fifth or sixth time you had done so, just this morning, but the invitation to Tony’s wedding was burning a hole in your countertop in your flat and you had to have a response for the RSVP by the end of the week. Better to get this over with now, and then you could move on to someone who might actually say yes to being your date to your ex’s wedding.

It was stupid, it’s not like you had to ask him, but once the thought had occurred to you… you couldn’t get it out of your head. Now it felt imperative. You had to know what he would say. Shaking your head, you laughed softly to yourself, you already knew what he was going to say. It was a fool’s errand to ask him, but here you were, hovering outside of his office, early on a Wednesday morning.

His secretary was giving you the side-eye, but you were here so often, that she didn’t make you leave. That, at least, was a relief. You weren't sure you could stand the embarrassment of being escorted out of his office before you had inappropriately propositioned him. At least if it happened afterward, it would possibly be justified.

“Good morning, Baron Zemo,” his secretary chirped as the whoosh of the lift doors sounded from behind you. You turned and tried to smile at him, but you were sure it came out as a grimace. Especially when he sighed heavily at seeing you.

He nodded at his secretary, but only had eyes for you. “What can I do for you so early this morning?” He didn’t sound pleased to see you at all, and your anxiety ratcheted up.

“Can we speak in your office?” you asked, giving him a tight-lipped smile. His eyes narrowed as he swept them over you so quickly you weren't even sure it had happened. He held out his hand, indicating you should proceed before him into the office and you did so. You weren't sure, but it felt like his eyes may have strayed to your arse. You hoped so. You were wearing your tightest dress today in hopes that it would give you the confidence boost you needed. Or, maybe persuade him. Either way, it wouldn’t hurt, you had decided that morning as you put it on.

The door shut with a soft click and he passed by you so closely, you could feel the breeze of his body. He settled into his seat behind his desk, propping his arm up against the solid, oak desk and indicating you should sit in one of the visitor’s chairs.

You did so, but sat right at the very edge, ready to spring to your feet the moment he said no.

“Well?”

“I… um…” you swallowed hard and looked down at your hands, trying to remember the speech you had prepared.

“Spit it out, dear. I haven’t all day,” Helmut Zemo said sharply.

“WillyougowithmetoTony’swedding,” you said so quickly to your hands wringing in your lap.

“Pardon?”

You took a deep breath and looked up at a spot just over his left shoulder. “I need a date for Tony’s wedding. And it’s stupid and you’ll say no, but will you just pretend to be my date?”

Your entire body braced for his rejection, you were poised to stand, but no rejection came. Instead, he asked when the wedding was.

As if on autopilot, you gave him the relevant details.

Zemo hummed thoughtfully, his eyes sweeping over you again. “I’m not sure I know how to pretend to be someone’s date,” he said finally.

That statement startled you enough to actually look at him. You could detect amusement in his eyes, but also interest. You opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out and you closed it again.

“However, if you would like me to actually be your date, I think I could fit it into my schedule,” he added magnanimously. One corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Are you joking?” you asked, completely unable to tell.

Zemo frowned. “No,” he said slowly, “are you? Is there really no wedding?”

You shook your head. “Yes, of course, there’s a wedding… but why would you agree to go with me?”

His face became carefully blank. “Why would you ask me?”

“Because I thought you would say no,” you said in a rush. “I never thought you would agree. I…”

He leaned further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning deeply at you. “Is this some sort of prank?”

“I…” you shook your head, trying to come up with an answer. “Sorry, no it’s not a prank. I got the idea in my head to ask you and then I couldn’t not ask you, but I was convinced you would say no. Why did you agree?” you peered up at his blank face, searching for an answer.

“I’m free on that date,” he replied with a shrug. “It seemed as if you wanted some sort of moral support for your friend’s wedding. Besides, it would upset The Winter Soldier.”

You frowned. You hadn’t thought about how it would make Bucky and Sam feel if you showed up with Zemo. “I— thank you for agreeing, but you’re right, it would anger Bucky. I don’t want to do that. I’m afraid—”

“Ah, you can’t take it back now, my dear,” Helmut said with a smirk. “You’ve asked, and I’ve agreed. It appears I will be your date for Tony Stark’s wedding. Who is he marrying again?”

“Pepper Potts,” you replied, wrinkling your nose. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from doing it, even though you tried. It was ridiculous, feeling upset that Tony was marrying Pepper, but there it was. And that was the crux of the reason you had decided to ask Zemo.

“The CEO of his company?” Zemo asked with a slight pucker between his brows.

You nodded. “Yes, the very same. But you’re right abou—”

“Well then, I shall have to accompany you,” Helmut said as if the matter was completely settled.

“What? No, you—”

“Are you really going to rescind my invitation? How rude,” Helmut said, lifting his nose into the air and glaring down at you.

You bit your lip. He was right. It would be the height of rudeness to ask him and then uninvite him, but he was also right that it would rile up Bucky. And Tony, your brain helpfully supplied. That was the crux of it. You wanted to rile Tony up. You hoped he choked when he saw who you were with.

“Fine,” you said ungraciously. “The wedding is at two in the afternoon and my invitation allows a plus one. Shall we meet at my apartment?”

He nodded and waved his fingers in dismissal as he began sorting through the correspondence on his massive desk. You frowned at him while standing stiffly and marching from the room. You weren't sure why you asked him beyond knowing that it would annoy Tony. You firmly refused to think about how good he looked last month in that coat of his. Nope, that was definitely not why you asked him.

––––

Six Weeks Later

You couldn’t quite believe that you were actually going through with this. You had barely seen Zemo since you stormed into his office and asked him to be your date all those weeks ago. You had almost hoped he had forgotten all about it, but just yesterday he had sent you a text confirming the time he was to meet you at your flat. Now you were all dressed up and rocking in your heels as you tried to calm your anxiety.

How in the world were you going to explain this to anyone?

How had that thought just occurred to you? Horror filled you as you realized you were going to have to explain this to Bucky and Tony and the rest of the Avengers at some point. What on earth were you going to say? That you and Zemo were dating? Bile rose up just as a knock sounded on your door. You hurried to answer it, your fear and apprehension heavy on your face.

He looked amazing, just as you expected him to and you waved him inside your apartment. It seemed even smaller when he was standing in your living room. You turned away from him and took a few deep breaths. What on earth had you been thinking? Inviting Helmut Zemo to your ex’s wedding had to be the most self-destructive thing you could have done.

“Are you alright?” Zemo asked. You could feel him behind you, your living room suddenly feeling smaller as the tension between the two of you grew.

“I fear I’ve made a mistake,” you said in a small voice. You took a big breath and turned to face him. “I can hardly show up with you on my arm,” you said, refusing to meet his eye. “How on earth would I ever explain it?”

“Explain what?” Zemo asked, taking a step closer to you.

You felt your cheeks warm, he was really going to make you say it, wasn’t he?

“Explain you,” you said. “Explain to my friends and family how I ended up on the arm of Helmut Zemo. The Baron Helmut Zemo. The one who hated the Avengers so much he did everything to destroy them.”

“Perhaps,” Zemo said slowly, “it was less about destroying the Avengers and more about getting even.”

You gaped up at him and half-laughed when you saw the smirk on his face. You couldn’t believe he had just made a joke at his own expense.

“There’s nothing to explain. Two consenting adults are dating. What’s to explain?” He shrugged so nonchalantly, you almost believed him.

“Dating? Now we’re dating?” you asked, your eyes widening. You shook your head. “I’m not sure I can pull off fake dating now too.”

You looked down at your hands, realizing you were wringing them, as you always did when you fretted like this.

Zemo cleared his throat and you forced your gaze back up to his. He had a very calculating look on his face. “Of course you can. You wouldn’t have suggested I ‘pretend’ to be your date if you didn’t think you could pull it off. We can tell them it was a whirlwind over the last few weeks.”

“That was madness,” you shook your head, “asking you like that.”

“So why did you?” he peered down at you and your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. You knew exactly why you had asked him. Your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip and you pulled it into your mouth, biting down on it gently.

“Why does anyone ask one out?” you whispered, your gaze darting from his, unable to watch whatever emotions would flit across his face at that admission.

“Indeed,” he replied, sounding amused. “Shall we?”

Within half an hour you were across the town, Zemo slid an arm around your waist, holding you close as the two of you entered the wedding hall.

“Steady, there,” Zemo whispered into your hair just as you entered and a group of wedding attendees turned to see who had just arrived. Even from this distance, you could see eyes widening and tongues wagging.

You lifted your chin and Helmut left his palm on the small of your back as you took that first, scary step forward and greeted the guests.

The wedding was mostly fine. You received some looks from the rest of the Avengers but decided that ignoring them was your best bet. It wasn’t the ceremony you were worried about anyway. Nobody was going to track you down and corner you, expressing concern about your choices while Tony and Pepper were saying their ‘I do’s.’

You weren't ambushed until almost an hour after dinner, which you thought showed remarkable restraint on the part of your friends. You weren't even all that surprised by who did the ambushing. Zemo had stepped outside for a minute and promised to return with drinks and you found not just Bucky, but Sharon as well. Oh, well, they must be concerned if Sharon was getting involved.

“So glad you could come,” Sharon said, pulling you into a hug. You may not have ended up both working for Shield, but Sharon always felt like your sister. Bucky reached in to give you a side hug as well.

They dispensed with the pleasantries quickly. “So, Zemo?” Sharon asked, her eyebrows rising high on her head. “He’s a bit old for you, isn’t he?”

You bit your lips to keep from laughing. “Would that be your only objection to him?”

“Ah, well, not that it’s our place,” Sharon stuttered.

“We just want to make sure you’re taken care of,” Bucky said emphatically. You were wringing your hands, almost unconsciously, and gave both of them a tight smile.

“Of course, he has been wonderful,” you replied. Your brain was working overtime trying to figure a way out of this conversation.

A moment later, Zemo slid his hands between your, threading your fingers together and the tightness in your chest eased as your palms pressed together.

“James, Ms.Carter,” he rumbled, with a dip of his head in their direction.

“Zemo,” Bucky replied looking as though he were trying not to sneer, you thought it just looked like he was constipated. “So kind of you to make it to Tony's wedding.”

“Well, how could I say no when my dear asked?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You beamed up at him, completely unaware of what this looked like from the outside. Perhaps asking Zemo to be your pretend date wouldn’t be the disaster you had been dreading all these weeks.

After the ambush by Bucky and Sharon, the rest of your friends had to make their voices heard. Some were more subtle about it than others. Tony, for instance, yanked you away from Zemo to have a heated debate behind the bar that you were sure everyone could hear. That was confirmed once you'd finally pulled yourself away from him and returned to find people studiously ignoring you.

Steve, at least, was better about it, just asking if everything was alright. Sam wondered, in front of Zemo, no less, if someone had put something in your drink. Strongly hinting that ‘someone’ was Zemo and that ‘something’ was a type of drug.

Zemo was a courteous guest and danced with you just the right amount. When things finally began winding down, the moon was up and it had been dark for at least three full hours.

“How do you feel about leaving?” Zemo asked, his hand straying to the small of your back. You leaned into him, loving the way it felt to do so. Somehow, despite his age, his body felt firm beneath his dress suit.

“I’m ready. Irish goodbye?” you asked, looking up at him.

He smirked down at you. “The best kind, really.”

You slipped out of the hall, hopefully unseen, and Zemo drove you to your apartment. You were glad to kick off your heels and poured a nightcap for both of you. You settled onto the sofa.

“Cheers to making our way through that unscathed,” You said, clinking your glasses together.

“I hope I wasn’t too terrible of a ‘pretend’ date,” Zemo murmured, looking at you over the top of his glass.

“I thought you didn’t know how to be a pretend date?” you asked, tipping your head to the side and trying desperately to hide a smile.

Zemo hummed. “Perhaps not. Shall we go for round two? Perhaps lunch at that new restaurant near my place?”

“Oh, yes, I would love that,” you said with a grin. Zemo put his glass down and lifted your hand, kissing the back of it.

“It’s a date then,” he said a sly smile on his face. Then he stood and was out your door with a, “See you at noon,” tossed over his shoulder.

You leaned back against your sofa, drinking the rest of your brandy and smiling absently at your door. Asking Zemo to be your pretend wedding date was looking like the best idea you'd had in ages.

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

His

Paring :: mafia dark!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+, Smut/NSFW, Dark Themes, Possessiveness, Oral(M Recieving), Deep Throating

Word Count :: 2,787

Summary :: Bucky’s had a long day and you’re the only one he can release his stress on

A/N ::....there may or may not be another part... idk yet.... I just really like Mafia Bucky

Some days were better than others, for both you and Bucky. 

So far, your day had gone swimmingly. You woke up, did an easy morning stretch to help you wake up, and proceeded to clean around your house in your favorite sundress. There wasn’t much to do, with the house usually clean due to Bucky hiring professional cleaners to come once a week. Still, the dishes weren’t going to do themselves. 

The highlight of your day was a package being delivered. A book that you had pre-ordered from one of your favorite authors. After you cooked your lunch, you spent the rest of your day reading the book, sitting on the dark grey couch in your large living room. That was all you could do besides watching tv or doing a small hobby to keep you occupied until Bucky came home.

Bucky’s day, on the other hand, was infuriatingly long. He was a businessman and a mob boss, meaning he’d usually have long days. If he was lucky, he’d just have to deal with some idiot trying to cheat him. Today was an unlucky day. He received a visit from Helmut Zemo, the head of a Sokovian Mafia trying to start up in Brooklyn. 

-

Bucky sat at his desk, leaning back in his leather chair as he stared at the man who just entered his office. 

“I already told you the deal Zemo. There’s no bargaining, if you don’t like it save your breath and get the hell out of here.”

The Sokovian ignored him, walking over to a large bookshelf that was against the wall. “You know, for the most powerful man in Brooklyn, you’d be surprised how quickly some of your ‘people’ are willing to betray you if you offer them enough cash.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, a scowl forming on his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Zemo glanced over for a moment. “The docks.”

A few nights prior, one of Bucky’s incoming shipments of illegal weapons had been robbed. A small number of men were killed, and the rest were injured. There was also a weird symbol that had been spray-painted around the docks, a sign that whoever had done this was publicly declaring war.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he was now sitting up straight in his seat. “You did that?” “It was quite easy to.”

“So why the fuck are you here now? I could put a bullet through your head in a second.”

Zemo laughed, finally turning to face the other man. “You won’t because you know I’m not stupid enough to come here without just as many men you have.” He let out a small breath, taking a few steps forward. His gaze moved down to Bucky’s left hand, an eyebrow raising with curiosity. “You haven’t married her yet? She’s a lovely woman.”

In an instant Bucky stood up, his hands balled into fists. If a look could kill, Zemo would be dead and his body burning.

“I came to tell (Y/N) thank you. Not long ago, one of my guys got a bit lost and she helped him. Pietro said she was ‘the kindest girl he’d met’ and ‘extremely helpful and friendly.”

Bucky cursed in the back of his mind. It sounded exactly like something you’d do, you were kind and naive by nature, simply wanting to help people when they needed it. It was what drew him to you, and it seemed like it was attracting unwanted attention from others now.

“I’m gonna give you ten minutes to get the hell out of my territory.”

“Why so generous?”

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” Bucky replied sarcastically.

Zemo walked back towards the door, understanding he had pushed the man far enough. A coy smile crept on his face, looking at Bucky one last time. “I’d keep her better guarded and up to speed if I were you. She’s too innocent to be involved with you.”

Once Zemo and his men left Bucky nearly tore apart his office. It took Sam and Steve a good hour to calm the man down and make sure he didn’t do anything reckless. Once he cooled down, Sam revealed that Tony Stark had been the one to cross Bucky. Tony’s father was the previous big bad until Bucky came around.

-

“I don’t give a fuck what you do Steve, just make sure Tony doesn’t think he’s not get strung up on a tree after I shoot that Sokovian bastard in the head.” 

His voice was full of annoyance and his grip on the steering wheel of his car was so tight the whites of his knuckles were visible. It was one thing for Zemo to publicly humiliate his authority by robbing him, but he had indirectly threatened you by mentioning you to Bucky. You were his and his alone. He had invested far too much in securing you, ensuring that you’d never leave him. 

-

Bucky leaned on the doorframe of your apartment’s bedroom, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you step around the room. “What are you doing?”

“Going home,” You muttered, continuing to pack your suitcase.

“That’s on the other side of the country.”

“I know.”

“I can’t keep an eye on you if you’re in LA.”

You looked up from the clothes you were packing, glaring at him. “I know.”

Bucky let out a huff. “So you also know I can’t make sure you’re safe.”

You let out a dry laugh, eyes rolling. “I’ll probably be a lot safer once I’m far away from you.”

The man pushed himself off the door frame, now approaching you with long strides. “You’re not leaving (Y/N).”

You threw the shirt you hand in your hand down, turning to face him. “Yes, I am Bucky, because you lie to me!” Your voice was strained, eyes looking up at him full of pain.

“I didn’t lie to you-”

“Yes, you did! You lied to me about what you did and you hid the truth!”

When you and Bucky started dating, he told you he ran a large ‘supply and demand’ business in Brooklyn and that was it. Like the naive girl you were, who had just moved to the east coast, you believed him because you fell for him hard at first. He spoiled you and made you feel like a princess in public, and in private you helped him release all the pent-up stress he had built up from work. A few months later, you finally figured out why Bucky was always so protective of you and wanted to know where you were 24/7. 

Bucky could see the tears you were holding back, mentally cursing at himself for being the cause. He cupped your cheek with his normal hand. You had to resist the urge to lean into his hold.

“I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry, but…” His voice trailed off. In a swift motion, his metal hand wrapped around your waist lifting you up and over his shoulder. “You’re not leaving me (Y/N).”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Put me down this instant!” You slammed your fists into his back to no avail. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

“I love you too darling,” He mumbled, proceeding to walk you out of your apartment.

-

You were on the fourth chapter of your book when you heard a car door slam. You sprung up from your seat, moving as quickly as you could to greet Bucky at the front door. When you got there, you saw he had already let himself inside. His brows were knit together, looking down at the door’s locks.

“Why isn’t the door locked?” He questioned before he even saw you.

With the territorial instinct he had when it came to you and his meeting with Zemo earlier, it was clear he was not happy about such a small thing, no matter your excuse.

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to lock it when I got the mail today,” You said quietly.

He had lectured you multiple times about how important it was you locked the door, even before you move in with him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, properly greeting him with a smile like you did every day. You had done this so many times, you noticed how long it took for him to softly wrap a single arm around you before walking away. He was upset.

“Go to the bedroom and wait. Now,” He ordered.

Your heart started racing, wondering what was going to happen to you. If he had stress pent up, he would either wait until after dinner or start kissing you roughly the second he stepped in. He had only acted like this when you pushed him to his limit, like when you threatened to leave him or attempted to run away when he first forced you to live with him.

You sat at the edge of your shared bed, hands holding and fiddling with the hem of your dress. When Bucky was this angry, he was painfully rough to the point where you would begin crying. You quickly began thinking of everything you had done recently, wondering what could’ve pushed him to this point.

He walked in, jacket off and the sleeves to his white button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even though your mind was screaming with fear, your body started heating up with desire seeing him. Especially when your eyes glanced down to his pants and saw a hardness forming. ‘Fuck, he’s been thinking about this.’

Walking up to you, Bucky grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. As a sort of last-ditch effort to get some kindness from him, you gave him a doe-eyed look.

He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against your lips before pulling away. “Get on your knees.”

You took in a deep breath, accepting he wouldn’t be gentle. You pulled away from his cold metal hand, sinking down to stand before him on your knees. Keeping eye contact with him, you managed to under his brown leather belt and navy trousers. You looped your fingers at the hem of his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs just enough for his fully erect shaft to be freed. 

With both of your small hands wrapping around his shaft, you could feel yourself growing wet at the sound of his soft groan. At first, you started stroking his length slowly, leaning your face closer to lick the tip and swirl your tongue around the head.

Bucky didn’t allow you to continue this very long. Only a small dribble of precum was licked up before he grabbed a fist full of your hair from the back of your head and pushed himself further in. Another groan escaped him feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock. He hit the back of your throat and you gagged, not yet ready for him to go deeper. He did it again two more times, warning you that he planned on having you take all of him in his mouth.

Your hands moved up to his thighs to hold yourself steady and you relaxed your throat the best you could in preparation. Once he started to push his dick further in, you could feel tears start to well up in your eyes as he went down your throat. You moaned each time he shoved his shaft down your throat, sending a soft vibration on his shaft.

Bucky eventually started thrusting his hips into your mouth, fully fucking your mouth as tears started to fall out of your eyes. Watching your glossy eyes stare up at him with his cock down your throat he nearly lost it, feeling his ballsack tighten. Not wanting to cum just yet, he pulled out, a string of your saliva falling off his dick and dribbling down your mouth. You gasped and began panting for air, wiping away your drool with the back of your hand.

He sat on the edge of the bed now, pulling your hips to stand in front of him once you stood up. “Off.”

You took off your dress, followed by your bra and wet panties. Already knowing what was going to happen, you moved to straddle his hips. You and Bucky had had sex numerous times before, but you always needed a moment to get used to his size. He wasn’t going to allow that.

With his large hands on your hips, he forced you down his entire dick, groaning at how tight your walls clenched around him.

“Bucky!” You cried out, body tingling as he filled you up, balls deep. 

He held your hips with such a strong grip you were sure there were going to be marks after. He bounced you up and down his cock, watching you with a dark gaze as you moaned and whimpered against him. Only he could make you feel like this, act like this for him.

He thrusted his hips up, and you moaned loudly, back arching as he hit a sweet sensitive spot. “Please!”

“Please, what?” Bucky asked, knowing full well what you wanted. He wanted you to beg.

“Fuck me right there Bucky! Please!”

More than happy to comply, he proceeded to slam into that same spot, your breath growing faster and cunt tighter each time it was hit. His breath was becoming heavy, and his movements ragged.

He watched as you looked down at him fucking you and saw you shudder. “Ah!” Your walls tightened and your release hit you, juices pouring out. Feeling you release triggered his own orgasm, releasing inside of you. You could feel spurt after spurt of hot cum filling you up and your tight cunt gladly took it.

He finally stopped bouncing you, rolling his hips into you and allowing you a few seconds of rest. He pulled his limp dick out but watching your pussy drip with a mixture of both your cum, he found himself hard once again. 

You barely had any time for your mind to clear up after, your eyes widening as Bucky forced you on your hands and knees. Not sparing a single second he rammed back into you, his hand smacking your ass hard. 

You let out a cry, the stinging pain from the spank only lasting for a short while before you felt the pain and pleasure of him filling you up again. 

“Tell me how much you love it,” He breathed out, watching your ass bounce against his hips with each thrust.

“Bucky!” You moaned out, your walls tightening around him again.

You barely had any time to recover from your last high and still sensitive. You started moving your ass against him, feeling his ballsack slapping your clit each time he thrusted. 

“I love it so much!” You breathed out. “I love feeling your big dick fill me up and fuck me!” 

You bit your lip, feeling the juices drip down your thighs. Your arms were starting to grow weak, barely able to hold yourself when you screamed again. Your pussy tightened and released, begging him to cum and fill you up again.

His large hands buried into your hips, continuing to fuck you as you released around him again. His build-up was growing with the sight of you taking his cock, thrusts growing sloppy. 

Bucky wasn’t blind and could tell your arms were going to give out. So, he released his grip on you with his metal arm to lean over you. He wrapped his arm around your chest, holding you up while squeezing your breast. 

Hearing your soft whimpers as he still fucked you did it for him, his hips bucking to release another hot load inside of you. He stayed in you until he finished then pulled out, releasing you to collapse on the bed. 

Weakly, you turned yourself on your back to look at him, face flushed and tear-stained. He lowered himself above you, metal arm pressed down near the side of your head to keep him above you. Bucky’s eyes danced over your facial features. His gaze moved down, watching your chest rise with each pant before looking at the mess in between your legs.

With his other hand, he reached down and dragged two fingers up your wet folds, gathering the juices on them. When he raised them back up to your face, both of your hands grabbed him and began to suck and lick his fingers clean.

“Christ you’re fucking beautiful.”

He pulled his fingers away, smashing his lips against yours. You wrapped your hands around his neck, a hand moving up to play and tug on his hair as you kissed.

[missjaystone]

Inescapable

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 13

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Dressed in the ridiculously high-cut low sided white one piece suit you find in the drawer and an oversized cream colored cashmere cardigan, you shove the sleeves up, slip into a pair of woven slides and leave the room feeling refreshed after a shower and venture down the long, somewhat dim hall, the doors to the other cabins that line the pass all shut.

You’re not below water but you feel the weight of the ship like being held safe in the arms of a protecter, shielding you from the wild seas outside.

You’d been in such a daze when you first arrived you really don’t remember the details, but now you see just how incredible his floating hide-out really is.

At the end of the hall is that common area, though there’s nothing common about it. The walls and floor are a beautiful teak, stained and sealed to a high gloss. The low, warm lighting and strip of windows that curve around the space give the room a luxe but cozy den-like feel, even with the massive tv. Look’s like the nightly Netflix binging can continue— when you’re not otherwise occupied of course.

You hear a sound from behind you and find Oeznik arraigning bottles in the wine fridge. With a smile you greet him. “Have you seen Helmut or Bucky?”

“Yes miss.I believe they are both on the upper deck. Take the stairs all the way up.” Your ears quickly adjust to his accent and you glance over at the backlit steps behind the tv wall. “Got it.”

He smiles nodding. “Enjoy.”

You just grin and quietly leave him to his work feeling the warm and fuzzies for the dear old man.

As you go to the steps, you catch a glimpse of the ocean slowly passing though you’re sure you moving a speed that will ensure your timely arrival. Turning back to the butler you frown. “Out of curiosity, Who’s the captain of this ship? I mean, there must be a crew?”

“Oh, the Baron has hired only the best.” He assures you “And only the most capable of-- keeping quiet” He answers knowing your meaning.

You nod and feel your shoulders lower as the tension between them eases now that you know there doesn’t seem to be any threat of betrayal, at least not for now.

Going up the steps you pass the empty second floor and take a quick peek. You’ll never complain about a luxury yacht, who would, but this is bordering on obscene—it’s fucking wonderful.

A pool lined by deck chairs at the far end, over looks the back end of the ship. The glass edge give views of the ocean below. At the front end, the dining area with it’s long table waits for many drunken night and dead center is a lounge area that you can already imagine dancing in. You shake your head knowing the night is far from over and continue up the next flight.

The wind whips at your skin now that you’re high above the water. You look out at all that blue and it hits you just how isolated you are which makes you feel very safe and very excited. There are no rules out here. None but his.

“No, slice it like this, that way when you bite it, you can eat the entire piece.”

Your ears perk at the sound of Zemo’s voice and his choice of words.

He’s talking to Bucky, you can tell by his tone. Patient, amused, adoring…

“I know how to cut an orange” Bucky snaps. You can practically hear him roll his eyes.

Helmut’s laugh is low, harder to hear but you know that soft rumble.

Coming up over the last step, you walk onto the deck taking the same path Helmut had early this afternoon and find them at the wet bar just under the shade of the overhang. They haven’t been around one another very long, just a couple of hours and most of that time Bucky was alone while you and Zemo reacquainted yourselves but they seem to have found their rhythm quickly.

You like watching them together, almost as much as you like the way they look at you.

Bucky’s holding his knife ready to cut again when he notices that you're here and looks up getting that goofy smile on his face like he does when you dress up to go out. This gets Zemo’s attention and the Baron looks over his shoulder finding you and instantly understands.

“She lives.” He teases and puts down the bottle opener he was set to use, but not the bottle of wine. He leaves Bucky to come to you and whatever flattered smile you might have had shifts when you notice how he looks.

Maybe he had this on earlier but you were so overcome by just seeing him that you hadn’t really noticed, now you do. Now you take the time to realize that you’ve never seen Zemo looking so causal. But even in a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up twice (to be in good taste of course) and the buttons no more than a suggestion at this point with that necklace he always wears catching the light as he struts towards you, not to mention that single lock of hair in his eyes, he is still the man in the fur collared coat you knew before he was taken away— just the holiday version.

You let your gaze wander down to admire the cut of his cream colored chinos and those modern take on Italian leather boat shoes that are probably, no defiantly from Italy. He makes getting away look obscenely good.

The kiss you share is light; a press, a hold, his hand on your face, his thumb on your chin, his smile against your mouth. “Did you sleep well?” He asks.

“I did” You answer, eyes still closed.

“You look stunning” He says sort of taking you in without moving away.

“So do you.” You say feeling yourself flush.

“Would you like a drink? James and I are making sangria.” He announces stepping away and it takes you a second to collect yourself as you watch him saunter back.

Has he always been so intoxicating? Yes girl, isn’t that how you ended up on a fucking yacht… you hold in your self deprecating laugh and join them.

Back over at the bar, you watch as he checks in on Bucky who has been very diligently cutting fruit in a way that you’ve never seen him try to do anything in the year you’ve lived together. But the thing that really holds your attention is how Zemo lays his hand against small of Bucky’s back and stands very close, watching just over his shoulder for a second then smiles approval, his hand lingering even as he steps away.

Bucky tries not to, but he can’t resist and lifts his head watching Zemo leave to walk back under the overhang.

You’ve seen that look before, or rather you’ve felt it. That hunger for the Baron, that draw to him. When Zemo walks away you want to follow. You find yourself nearly hypnotized by his regal movements that can so quickly become a force of aggression that can bring you to your knees, only for it to feel like the sun itself on your face when he finally looks at you.

Poor man, you think sympathetically smiling at Bucky. He’s in for a world of trouble.

“Hey," You tap Bucky’s forearm, “How are you?” You ask quietly while you have a few seconds alone and notice that he’s stripped out of his leather jacket and all that black.

He must have changed while you were— occupied. He’s got on a dark blue t-shirt and clearly very expensive shorts with what must be a five inch inseam because they stop just below mid thigh and yet again you're thanking Zemo for his good taste. Bucky looks good enough to take a bite out of. And…is he barefoot? You lean your head around the bar but he gives you a funny look so you sit back up trying to play innocent. Whatever, you’re just happy to see him out of the utility gear, stomping around in boots— god love him— the man deserves to relax.

Bucky frowns a little. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

He looks confused.

“Don’t play dumb, you weren’t so confident before we hitched our ride out here” You say wondering just how big a change of heart he’s had since this morning.

Bucky glances over his shoulder to find Zemo looking through the wine glass collection along the shelving and smiles. “Yeah well, I guess I’m not so worried now.” He says, his eyes sparkling with something a little mischievous in them.

“Ha! Yeah well, I tried to tell you that once we got here everything would be just fine.” You say kindly.

“Come on, you can’t blame me for being worried.”

“No, of course not.” And you truly mean it. “Honestly James, I’m just happy you’re here. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

He seems touched but instead cocks his brow. “Sounds like you two were getting along just fine.”

You scoff seeing that Zemo is on his way back over. “Not fair, we needed that.” You whisper.

“I know,” Bucky teases with a wink just as Zemo sets the glasses on the counter.

“Looks good.” He says gripping Bucky’s shoulder rubbing hard and the way Bucky beams with pride you’re just happy you don’t have a mouthful of wine, the spit take would have been epic.

In minutes the drinks are mixed and the three glasses are raised in the air. “What do we drink to?” You ask.

Zemo looks between you both, settling on you first and reaches for your hand turned palm up on the counter and takes it, stroking your wrist. You sigh deep in your chest feeling yourself go as liquid as the ocean around you. “To love.” He says with confidence, smiling at you before letting go. Turning to Bucky, his hand now finding the other mans closed on the counter, he grips it tight. “And to possibility.” The look exchanged between them nearly shatters your heart it is so pure and so real.

“And the freedom to live it.” You add softly feeling that truth in your soul and both men look over at you raising their glasses.

The wine warms your belly, the taste so incredible you shut your eyes thankful for a good drink after such a batshit crazy day. Swallowing you look up at them and wonder now that the wine is flowing how long it will be before the inevitable happens.

After a few more glasses of the dangerously delicious sangria, you find yourself happily descending the levels of the yacht listening to Zemo rattle on about the specs and metrics of the luxury vessel until the three of you find yourselves enjoying a pleasant buzz on the pool deck.

You’re sauntering around, swaying to the music in your own head, smiling at them, teasing them. Bucky is amused but as usual slightly annoyed.“This is nuts you know that right” He says dragging his eyes from you to look back through towards the lounge and dining area.

There’s a sort of lazy energy down here with the indulgence on full display. Theres even a sauna just before the lounge.

Bucky looks at Zemo waiting for a reply.

He simply shrugs looking proud. “If we’re going to be here for a while I wanted to be comfortable.” He smiles and takes a drink. “Polinksy's just lucky this is all I took from him."

You stop messing around and look up at him feeling a wave of shock run through you “Polinsky? From the casino!”

“That’s the one.” Zemo says casually as he joins you at the edge of the pool. He stands, hand in his pocket looking content and a little smug.

“Holy shit… I can’t believe you took his yacht.” You say impressed looking away. “I can't believe he was rich enough to own one! But, first the casino and now this, won’t he come for you?”

“It turns out our friend had deep dealings in very dark markets but no. We have nothing to fear from him love.” He says and kisses your forehead. You sink down a little, always undone by his voice. “I can assure you there is no threat there and we have quite the safe house to show for it. And before you ask, no he did not deal in human trafficking.”

You smile, he knows you well too because you would have gone overboard before enjoying luxury paid for at the expense of another woman's suffering.

Bucky is watching, confused but resolved to not know everything about your past with each other. “Yeah well. Whoever this Polinksy is had great taste. I’ll say that for him”

“His wife actually.” Zemo says standing tall again, his hand warm on your back as he talks around you. “That idiot wanted to cover everything in gold” He rolls his eyes shaking his head. “She owned a gallery, it was a cover of course, but she did have an exceptional eye.”

Bucky nods and takes another drink.

“Oh look.” Zemo says suddenly pulling away from you. He leans over the edge of the pool a bit.”

“What?” Bucky frowns staring down into the water.

There is a playfulness in Zemo’s eyes that you spot easily enough because it is so rare, but Bucky is clueless and misses it, trying too hard to see what it is Zemo does. “There, look there. Don’t you see?” Zemo says pointing at the water. You press your lips together to keep from laughing. Is Bucky really falling for this? Knowing better, you take a large step back

“Hey, let me have a sip of your drink Bucky,” You offer grinning at Zemo.

Bucky hands it back to you without even looking.

For a solider really is oblivious sometimes.

With a wink for you, Zemo steps close and gives Bucky a single shove and you turn your head anticipating the splash as he goes over and into the water.

Your laughter rings out the moment you see his head pop up, his string of curses a mile long. Zemo’s half assed apologies are cute as he hands you his own drink and sheds his shirt and pants down to the black swim shorts so tight and high on his thighs that your voice suddenly catches in your throat at the sight. 'Damn' you smile watching as he dives in after Bucky. He comes up and they meet face to face in the water with a moment of lovely tension between them floating very close before they both beg you to join in, but you refuse and instead settle on the deck with your legs dangling over the edge and insist on staying put with your sangria and both of theirs as back up, promising them that you’re quite content to just watch —and what a show they put on.

What is it about swimming that turns men into boys?

No sooner are they in do they start to regress to childish antics, playing at fighting for no real reason other to antagonize one another.

When they get too rough you shout that they need to take a lap to cool off which only seems to ignite a fire in them both and they rush off in a mad dash attempting to out swim the other.

For your part you’ve never made a better suggestion as you get to sit and watch the way the sunlight sparkles across their wet, muscled backs and shoulders as they reach over and through the gentle waves they create, looking like a pair of Olympians with you as their goddess happy to simply sit and judge the form of their stroke— you laugh to yourself at your luck taking a long swallow of wine.

You manage to look away for a second and take in a very different view admiring how calm the ocean is this evening, but not for long as the sound of them coming back draws your attention. They race with youthful enthusiasm, showing off for you, and one another.

Hands grab the edge of the deck and soon a heated debate breaks out on either side of your legs as they fight over who won and you stifle a laugh knowing it was Bucky. “Don’t worry, you can beat him later” You tell Zemo, the double entendre not lost on him as you bend to kiss his dripping hair. He laughs a little at your awful humor and you’re certain you’ve never seen him so happy.

This world he’s brought you into is so removed from the real one, so perfect and serine that you know he’s done it to forget about the real one. He could have had you and Bucky meet him in a some dark hideout, some deep cave still gorgeous of course but he chose this because it feels most like something of his own creation and he does so love to be in control. Perhaps that’s what happens when one loses it so horribly…

“It’s nice to let him think he can win sometimes.” Zemo says and you shake the thoughts suddenly aware of his arm around your legs.

Bucky is smiling at the Baron’s words as he takes the glass from your hands and gulps down the rest.

“Hey!” You give his metal arm a smack.

“Thought you liked sharing” He teases licking his lips.

You roll your eyes but feel the need to glance at Zemo who is watching Bucky.

He’s being very patient but you can see how badly he wants him. You saw it the moment you landed. Having Bucky here is more than he thought he should hope for, but wanting him like this is agony. Bucky— with his arms up on pool side and water droplets sparkling as they trickle down the curve of his muscles, his dark hair slicked back, blue eyes fixed on Zemo and that small crooked smile taunting— is like the ripe, low hanging fruit of summer, ready to be plucked and tasted.

Still, knowing better than to push, Zemo lets go of you and calmly swims away, letting the water distract him. You look down at Bucky who turns, his eyes following the Baron.“Go on,” You urge gently. “Go to him.”

Bucky continues to observe in silence for a little longer. You’re surprised that he doesn’t seem confused or angry at your insistence. Instead he’s content to watch Helmut swim. It makes you smile, you’ve never seen Bucky this way, but then again you think back to the times you’ve caught him looking at you while you’re watching tv or out dancing and he thinks you aren’t paying attention. It’s very much like that, but softer.

Seeming determined, Bucky gives your leg a quick rub before pushing off the wall to join him.

They swim around one another for a moment meeting in the middle of the pool that must be no more than six feet deep as they stay afloat easily, but its hard for you to make out what they say at first. The mood is light though, the wine has Zemo feeling loose and Bucky is laughing, he even splashes Zemo once, but then you see a change come over them as the playfulness subsides.

As his smile eases, Bucky reaches and runs his thumb over Helmut’s brow to keep the water from his eyes. This subtle move causes the Baron to stop. He swims backwards just a bit and stands, his chest and shoulders out of the water now and Bucky follows him letting Zemo smooth his hand down along side Bucky’s face. Those hands that were aggressive in what must feel like a past life become soft and linger just a bit longer. Bucky doesn’t pull away from Zemo’s touch and you are so relieved to see it finally happening.

You’ve imagined this moment often. You’ve hoped for it, needed it, wanted it. You love them both in different ways, but to love them together— what could possibly be better than that? For a split second you imagine leather and safe words and quickly take another sip of wine looking away knowing that it can always get better.

Slicking his hair back from his face, Bucky smiles at the Baron with his sweet lips still wet from the water that trickles down his face as he stares at the older man and you can see that he’s thinking of the best way to say something, he’s so unsure but so ready for this. Helmut will guide him, you think with a smile.

“James,” Zemo says his name with such understanding and you hear him this time. “I’m going to stop playing games with you now.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asks. He sinks into the water pushing back towards the deeper end but doesn’t go far.

Zemo just smiles sympathetically. He knows. Their flirtation, the bond made over sharing you, it’s all come down to this. This moment is the one that will change everything between them and Bucky is still fighting it, but not for much longer. “I think you’re still holding back for reasons that you don’t have to say right now,” He starts and comes towards him, until he is close again “Perhaps later when it’s dark you can tell me. But you don’t have to pretend. I know what it is you want because I want it too.” He says with a surprising amount of vulnerability and the perfect amount of warmth.

Bucky pushes a little closer, fighting against the water to stay near Zemo. You think he is in shock to hear the Baron say things like this. You also think you should leave but you can’t bring yourself to move. You’re also fairly certain they don’t remember you’re still here and if you distract them now it will ruin this moment.

“What do you think I want Zemo?” Bucky asks.

Zemo runs his hand over his face ridding it of water and takes Bucky by the shoulder, tilting his head as he looks into his eyes. “This.”

Both dominance and affection come into play as he grabs Bucky gently by the back of his head pulling the soldier into the softest kiss.

You try not to look, but the way they move— it’s like seeing two beautiful halves become whole. The strongest most masculine lines become soft and elegant; Helmut holding Bucky’s face so carefully, Bucky finally giving in. The tension melts into fluid movements until you think 'how could it have taken so long for something so natural to happen’. And then that slight shift takes hold. The caress becomes a clutch, the stroke becomes a grab. You see a flash of tongue as they flick and roll, fighting as the men had in the water.

But this isn’t a race to see who’s the fastest. You know who will win the battle.Bucky is breathing hard, and for the first time since you’ve known him you see a different side to him. It’s not easy to spot with the water moving their bodies, but as he holds onto Zemo, their foreheads touching now as their lips part for a moment, he seems smaller somehow, like he is holding onto Helmut because he is so eager to please him and ready to make the Baron happy and again you are shown your own feelings reflected back at you from the face of your friend.

Zemo kisses him lightly again but when he pulls away he tugs at Bucky’s lip just a little and the gasp that Bucky makes is so light you can’t hear it, but you feel it deep in your belly.

Fuck. You sigh through your nose and bite at your own bottom lip knowing exactly how it feels.

Keeping Bucky close, Zemo turns his head and opens his eyes on you.

It’s like being tossed into the high beams of a car on a dark road.

Zemo gives you a look that makes you put your glass down, slide out of your sweater and lower your head to him as you fall effortlessly into the roll you have missed so much. He motions for you come in the pool and this time you do not object.

You plunge in feet first and swim over with your head held above water, your eyes fixed on the men who wait. You reach them and feel his hand grab your arm, the look in his eyes speaking volumes. He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t have to. He just plants a warm, wet kiss on your lips.

You grab onto him pulling yourself close, saddling onto his thigh as you hope to feel a fraction of what he just shared with Bucky. It’s different of course, but still there, after all this is something truly special —magical even.

When Helmut breaks the kiss Bucky takes his place and you feel that spark ignite between the two of you until he smiles against your lips well aware of what he’s just started.

You know the Baron is watching and as you turn your head just a little, you see him reach and touch Bucky’s face but his eyes have gone just a bit dark, the wheels of thought turning quickly in his mind. “Lets get out.” He says and takes a deep breath.

“I think it’s time James learns the rules.”

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 6 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.  

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode four. Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: The following chapter is finally here! It took me a while to revise it because I wanted the action scenes to not suck super badly, so yeah. 

(warnings: mentions of death, gunshots, blood, injuries) (word count: 3K)

six: shield

You sat next to Sam as he typed in a computer and Helmut Zemo nursed his headache. Once he gained consciousness, he’d showered you in gratitude and niceties, and you were already close to knocking him out yourself.

T-minus what, four hours? The Dora Milaje would be there soon enough.

It’s he the one to break the comfortable silence, only filled by the soft clicking of Sam’s keyboard before.

“Were you ever offered it?”

“What?”

“The serum.”

“No.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at you with an amused expression. You shrugged.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Sam’s mouth turned down, and he slowly turned to Zemo.

“No.”

“No hesitation, that’s impressive.”

You got up from the table, making a round so you could watch Zemo’s face as he spoke. He’d seen you usher Karli Morgenthau out of the factory basement, and you wondered what he had made of your actions.

“Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli.” His eyes met yours as he said that, and you looked away, circling a pillar and walking to be on the other side of the couch, by his feet. “No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone.”

You sighed. “You talk in absolutes. People aren’t like that, Zemo.”

He studied you again.

“And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

Zemo spoke with such conviction that you were sure you’d be also be harboring a bullet if he knew who, and what, you were.

“Isn’t that how gods talk? And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” Sam’s eyes flitted to you, and you offered him a tight smile. “Blood isn’t always the solution.”

When Steve had talked to you about handing over the shield for the first time you were doubtful. He was grieving the loss of his own time – your time, too – and second-guessing his own claim to it.

You never stopped believing in Steve when he did. You and Bucky were war. Steve was… the end of it. And not just because of the serum. He was that since you all were small and scrawny, him a little scrawnier and a little smaller, as he stopped you and Bucky from butting heads.

For Steve, you, and Bucky as well, that shield meant everything. It meant the salvation of the world from true evil, that in the 1940’s was personified in the form of a little man with a moustache. Whoever carried it carried the responsibility of being the harbinger of that freedom. Of relief, justice, and most of all... hope.

So when Steve talked to you about handing over the shield a second time, this time to capable hands instead of a glass dome, you understood – it was time to pass the mantle to someone who was, indeed, a new beacon of hope.

Safe to say, the fact that John Walker now carried the shield you put so much importance into felt wrong.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky strolled in, seemingly in a sour mood. You chuckled, and watched as he discarded his things on the counter.

“You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam quipped, and you patted his shoulder affectionately when you walked past him to get Bucky to make you a drink too.

You swiped his jacket off the counter and hanged it neatly on the back of one of the barstools. Bucky licked his lips and shook his head as you mouthed ragamuffin at him.

“Pour me one.”

“Can you hold your liquor now, sugar?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed the glass he had fixed for himself.

“Now you pour yourself one.” You took a sip, smiling into the glass.

Bucky glared at Sam. “Shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

You shot Bucky a disapproving look. He raised his eyes briefly at you while pouring his drink, and shrugged.

“Buck—”

“I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

“James Barnes!” Goddamn Bucky and his hard-headed self.

Bucky looked at you like he used to look at his mother, wide eyed, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It only lasted for a second, his bewilderment falling into a scowl right after. Behind you, Sam chuckled.

You shook your head at Bucky, but you had no time to fall into an argument. The one and only John Walker and Lemar Hoskins were bursting in, demanding to take Zemo. Ordering, really.

“Hey, slow your roll.”  Sam said firmly. “Man, let’s be clear. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth.”

You bottomed up your whiskey, knowing whatever was to come couldn’t be good.

“Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. And we’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

Walker challenged Sam next. He looked eager and ready for a fight, and as much as you’d loved to keep your real abilities hidden, you figured your time out of the spotlight was running out. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eye, relaxed stance contrasting with the tightness of his jaw. Zemo paced behind Sam, still clutching his own drink.

The moment Walker put down the shield an iron spear cut the air and lodged itself into the pilaster, separating him and Sam.

No, not iron. Vibranium.

The Dora Milaje.

“Even if he is a means to your end… Time’s up.” Ayo announced in Xhosa. You grimaced.

You sighed heavily when John decides to one-up them, too. Ayo swings the spear at his arm when he touches his shoulder and a fight breaks out. You reached for the liquor again.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world.

The fight was only Walker and Hoskins getting absolutely overpowered by the warriors while you, Bucky, Sam and Zemo stayed out of it.

“We should do something.”

You swirled your drink, taking a small sip. “I am. I’m observing.”

“Looking strong, John!” Bucky shouted, making you have to hide a snort. Sam exhaled heavily.

“Such a diplomat, you. Bucky…”

“I’m a lot of things, Samuel.” You shrugged, but finished your drink anyways and hiked up your sleeves.

You, Bucky and Sam all ran to take one of the Doras each. As one kicked Hoskins to the couch you stepped in front of him, blocking the hit of her spear with your forearm.

You met her eyes and tilted your head apologetically. When she raised her weapon again you twisted your body and landed a back kick to her middle.

She staggered back a couple of steps but was back at you in an instant.

Hit. Block. Kick. Another hit to your shoulder.

Even if the fight was fairly balanced, Super Soldier against Dora Milaje, you knew you had a slim chance of actually winning. You hadn’t been in a fight in years, much less with someone this capable and trained.

After blocking another of your strikes with her spear, she hit the side of your left knee. It’s your bad one.

East Berlin, 1987. You had been undercover for nearly two weeks now, tracking a lead about the existence of a HYDRA lab that was conducting experiments with new Super Soldiers.

The wind that cut through the rooftop of the building you stood on testing the very limits of the overcoat you wore on top of your tactical suit.  So damn cold. You tried not to dwell on how frigid your toes were inside of your boots, instead concentrating on watching the sun slip behind the skyline.

You were waiting on a man that would give you the next lead. Intel said he would be there before you, but he wasn’t when you got there. 10 minutes had gone past the accorded meeting time, and you were starting to think that no one was coming.

A bullet ricocheted on the concrete pillar you were stood behind, and you realized why S.H.I.E.L.D.’s contact was running late. You grabbed your own pistol, still hidden by the concrete, and peeked in the direction the shot had come from.

A man and a woman, in full leather. You saw the red star etched on their left arms as they marched towards you. HYDRA.

You had two exit options, one that was across the rooftop or jumping down into River Spree. Either way, you’d have to deal with the two HYDRA agents that approached you.

You ran to another pillar, shooting at them. You hit the woman on the leg, and she buckled down. Her counterpart didn’t even spare her a look, continuing his way to you. You kept shooting, missing a few and landing the rest on the both of them, the guy barely flinching.

You didn’t understand why he wasn’t using his own gun. Maybe he didn’t feel the need for one.

There was no time for thinking. The man was onto you; swatting your gun away, blocking your punch, hitting your chest. You crashed into concrete.

The woman joined in, landing a hard blow to the side of your skull. Your eyes widened. They were just as strong as you.

Super Soldiers.

You crawled away from them, hand swatting at your leg for your knife. It landed in the woman’s throat with a squelch. One down.

The man was much stronger it seemed, you barely able to keep the fight balanced even with another of your knives. You cut and ripped, but it was like your blade was a feather on his skin.

He backed you up until the edge of the building. You could see the river below.

You groaned when he headbutted you, and you go stumbling down. The blood was hot against your face and metallic on your lips.

He stomped on your knee. Again. And again. You choked on your own agony.

His voice was all you heard before he kicked you off the ledge. You plunged into the freezing air.

Hail HYDRA.

Familiar pain laced through you, making your hairs stand on end. You cried out, nearly tumbling straight to the ground.

The clank of metal hitting the ground and a spear shot at the direction of the shield ended the fight. Bucky’s vibranium arm laid limp and detached on the ground, his expression even more perplexed than when you had scolded him earlier.

You straightened yourself up as the pain subsided. Ayo opened the doors to an empty bathroom.

Zemo. He has slipped right through your fingers while you were busy defending John Walker’s ass from the Dora Milaje.

You helped Sam to his feet as they were leaving, Ayo giving you one last stern look before leading the way out. It felt like a reminder of a debt.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam said, looking at a limbless Bucky. The arm seemed to snap back into the right place, thank goodness for that. A failsafe, then.

“No.” Bucky rotated his arm, an indecipherable expression on his face, even for your standards.

The room was filled with tension as the three of you gathered yourselves again and John Walker sat defeated on the ground, with only Lemar to check up on him. You walked past them to get inside the bathroom, frowning at the drainage hole Zemo had made his escape through.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo,” Sam murmured.

“I can.” Bucky clenched his jaw. “Come on.”

Bucky led you through the backstreet and to the back of the building, though you weren’t sure exactly what you were looking for. A lead, maybe, but neither of you knew if Zemo had made his way all the way to the underground or escaped to the streets once he was out.

“You okay? You got hit pretty bad back there.” Sam said, looking at you. You all had taken a decent beating, but the hit to your leg had taken you by surprise. Bucky frowned.

“I’m good.” Bucky frowned deeper, and you shook your head at him, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “I got a bad knee, it’s all. Replacement cap and everything.”

Sam laughed.

“You’re 106 and have a prosthetic kneecap? Wow, you’re starting to sound your age.”

“You know what, Wilson? I think you should respect your elders.”

Sam raised his hands, still laughing. “Okay, okay. But only ‘cause I saw you kicking ass back there. Girl, where the hell have you been?”

Bucky grumbled something, and threw an arm around your shoulders.

“Retired.”

You patted his cheek lovingly, and laughed a little when you caught him fighting a smile. Sam got ahead of you, sending you a look of mischief and wiggling his eyebrows.

You urged Bucky forward, earning a huff from him as you got to Sam’s side.

Compartmentalizing was necessary. Zemo was on the loose, Walker was verging on unhinged, and there was still Karli to deal with. Whatever was going on with you and Bucky – and the insistent feeling that tugged on your heartstrings whenever you looked at him – would have to wait.

You listened to Sam’s conversation on the phone, his tone growing more concerned at every pause. Sarah. Overnight bag. Take the boys.

“What happened?” Bucky asked and you slipped from under his arm.

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.”

Shit.

“Sam, I got a safehouse in New Orleans.” You said once he hung up. He nodded at you, and you took his phone to get his sister’s contact.

Karli was entering dangerous territory. Before, you considered her a fighter on a rightful cause, but as if predicted by Zemo, she was escalating. You feared that it was a fight you couldn’t let her win, or run free.

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone chimed. “She said come alone.”

“I’m comin’ with you.” Bucky looked at you. “We are.”

“Let’s gear up, boys.”

---

You were grateful you had kept your old tactical suit inside your closet for a rainy day.

The suit was carbon black, except for the blue-grey Kevlar plating on your chest, back and upper legs. It had a faint resemblance to an armor, and the amount of impact it could absorb made you protected and difficult to take down. You completed your gear with your trusty boots and hidden knives.

Sam had changed into his wings and Bucky into his peculiar one-armed leathers.

“Damn, you look cool.”

A laugh escaped your lips. “So do you, Sam.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “We should go.”

The sky was cloudy and the air dry, and still you could feel a storm coming. You walked into the empty building, you and Bucky tailing Sam.

“Karli!”

The redhead revealed herself, standing on the second floor. Sam went to talk to her, leaving you to watch them from a distance.

Karli looked at you and Bucky there, her eyes lingering on you for a few seconds more. You realized how menacing you must have looked, the three of you in full gear, and you wondered if Bucky felt as strange about your rigid stance as you did about his.

The two of you really had changed.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favor and let me go.”

If only things were that easy.

Sam looked at the screen on his wrist and turned to you in alarm.

“It’s Walker.”

A trap. Bucky was the first to leap to the ground, colliding with Karli in the process. You and Sam landed at the same time, and you hoisted Bucky up while Sam clashed with the girl.

He sent Karli to the ground with a flying kick.

“I’ll send you the location, go!”

You and Bucky leapt into the street and broke into a fast sprint as Sam took off.

“You’re fast!”

You looked to your side at Bucky, smirking. He was just a little behind you.

“I’m lighter!”

“No fair!”

“You have a metal arm!”

Bucky led you to the location Sam had sent him. Riga had plenty of empty buildings, it seemed. You were running up the stairs when a Flag Smasher jumped on you, then another on Bucky.

The guy and you dragged yourselves all the way to the top, exchanging punches. You saw his eyes widen under the mask when you landed a boot on his chest and he went flying backwards.

Taking the free time you had bought yourself, you searched for Bucky below you. As soon as you found him the Flag Smasher tackled you, hoisting your body up. You hit his shoulder blade with your elbow and he bumped into the railing, quickly turning and hanging you over the edge.

“Y/N!”

Bucky was upside down. No, that was you.

He reached for you as the other Flag Smasher had him locked in a rear choke.

“I’ve got this!”

Tightening your legs around the man, you let yourself fall, taking him with you. You crash at the bottom of the building.

“You said you had this!”

Bucky jumped to your level.

“I do!”

You stared at his scowl for a brief second before roundhouse kicking your foe and finally putting him down.

Bucky returned to you after dealing with his own Flag Smasher. He looked furious.

“You’re so fucking reckless!”

Oh, Jesus H. Christ. You couldn’t believe Bucky, wanting to argue.

“I am fine! It wasn’t that high.” You huffed. “We have no time for this, James. Let’s go.”

You ran to the top of the building, Bucky trailing behind you. He caught a flying knife right before it lodged itself on your face. He glowered at you as if to say you don’t got this.

Not sparing him a response, you busy yourself with fighting another of the Flag Smashers, this time a woman. It was like all you needed was a little warming up, because you’re clearly in advantage as you blocked her punches and grabbed her torso, slamming her into the ground next.

You looked up. John Walker was staring at you.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on whatever he saw, one of the men coming from behind and immobilizing him.

Karli screamed as she ran towards Walker. She was in it for the kill. Hoskins tackled her before she could do it. All you could make out was the blur of an altercation.

Lemar Hoskins slammed into a pillar with a crack.

Your stomach churned.

Everything stilled as Walker ran to his partner, desperately trying to get him to wake up. He slumped sideways, his head lolled down.

He was dead.

Karli and her group took advantage of the tumult and ran, her shooting one last look at the rest of you as they took off. You couldn’t let her get away this time, though, so you immediately go into pursuit.

You shot one look behind you, seeing Bucky and Sam follow you as you whizzed through the streets of Riga. You’re the first to get to the square, making your way to the middle of the crowd hastily.

Walker stoop upright, holding the shield over the body of one of the unmasked Flag Smashers.

It was broad daylight; there were dozens of people around you.

The city was silent.

He was dead.

[cazimagines]

Slipping through my fingers

Synopsis: While waiting for Bucky to arrive Zemo reflects on the past, remembering time he spent with his family and when he found them after the Sokovian attack

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, guns, dark imagery, this is a very sad fic, includes a scene from episode 5

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's note: This isn’t a fic that involves a reader this time, I wanted to write about scenes with Zemo and his family as every time I think about it; it makes me sad and I haven’t seen anything like this done yet. Recommended you listen to sad music while reading if you want to feel even more pain. Sorry if this makes you cry.

Masterlist

Screams echoed throughout the hospital room, bouncing off the walls. Nurses rushed around grabbing towels and rushing towards the bed. A man paced back and forth. He ran his hands through his hair in stress as he kept looking over at the hospital bed.

“Helmut” she whispered

Instantly he was by her side. She raised out her arm, palm open wide. He clasped it, giving a tender kiss on her knuckles. “I’m here, my love” he confided as she clenched her eyes. She let out an ear-piercing shriek, clenching his hand tightly as she squeezed.

After a few minutes she exhaled, and the sound of a baby crying filled the room. The nurses wrap the child up in a clean towel, wiping away as much blood as they could before handing it over to the women.

“A boy!” they say

The woman smiled down happily as the baby wriggled in her arms. She lifted her arm to tickle him as her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulders, smiling at his son. She looks to him and holds up the baby, offering him to Zemo. He carefully picks up the child, holding him as if he was the most fragile thing in the world.

“Your heir” she whispers as she watches them, a sweet smile gracing her lips.

Tears of happiness slip down Zemo’s face as he looks at his son, his smile as wide as it could be. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead. Turning back to his wife, he presses a kiss on her forehead as well and hands their son to her.

“Our son, my beautiful baroness,”

Sirens echoed in the street. Though it was days later since the attack, dust still fell as if a reminder of how everything has crumbled. Fallen down.

Footsteps thudded across the pavement. His eyes scanned the wreckage of once his summer house, away from the city. He could feel people staring. They recognized him. The baron. But in a matter of a few days, he had lost any power he had. Now he was one of them, suffering because of the attack, desperate to find his family.

He called out their names. His father, wife, son. There was no answer. Just people staring at him.

He asked them if they had seen anyone else. They shook their heads.

Angrily he walked forward, grabbing the rocks, determined he would find them alive under the rubble.

They had to be alive. They had to be.

“Tonight I am a father!” Zemo declared, sitting down on the lavish seat next to his father.

“And I am a grandfather. I think a drink is in order” his father chuckles, pouring out whiskey into two glasses, placing the bottle back into the glass cabinet. He hands the drink to his son and they give a toast.

“To a long and healthy life for your son,” his father exclaims

“Cheers!” Zemo shouts, clinking his glass with his father’s then eagerly drinking.

His father sits back in his armchair, getting comfy and exhaling happily. He glances at his son, smiling warmly.

“What name have you chosen?”

“Carl. After Grandpa,”

Zemo’s father’s eyes glossed over with tears after hearing that name. His smile tightens as he reaches over to embrace his son.

“Your mother would be proud,”

Zemo hugs him back tightly, burying his head in his father’s shoulders, enjoying the comfort the embrace brought to him, as if he himself was a child again.

“Thank you” he whispers to his father, “Thank you”

After hours of searching, he could see them. The breath leaves his lungs, an inhumane noise falls out from him. He rushes to his father’s side, not caring at how the dirt clung to his clothes, the blood staining them.

His father was hunched over, his arms wrapped around two bodies. Blood stained his head. It trailed down the side of his face, tinting the floor and a rock. A piece of ceiling that had fallen down.

A sob was pulled from Zemo, his eyes clouded with tears he could hardly see. His hand was raised to his mouth, trying to keep everything in. His other hand brushes over his father’s head, wanting to feel his warming embrace one last time, but the skin was cold, clammy. Dead.

His eyes moved further down.

Zemo walked into the kitchen, grinning as he saw the situation before him. His son sat in a baby chair, the remainders of his breakfast split all over the table. His wife was also covered in parts of his breakfast. She held a rag in her hand, attempting to clean up the mess Carl made.

“I see we’ve had quite the disaster this morning” Zemo jokes, walking over to his son, placing a kiss on his head. He pulls out a tissue of his coat pocket and wipes the rest of the breakfast off Carl’s lips.

“Carl has decided he now hates porridge,”

“I don’t blame him. Why have porridge when there are so many other things you can have for breakfast that taste much better,” Zemo says, stepping over to stand in front of his wife, “Like for example, you,” he adds quickly giving his wife a peck on the lips.

“Helmut!” his wife exclaims, looking around the room flustered. “Not in front of Carl”

“I had not realised he suddenly understood the whole English language” he said glancing back to his son who was staring at them, his eyes sparkling and a giggle coming from him.

Zemo turns back to his wife, a smirk on his lips. He raises up the tissue and rubs the porridge off her face. Her eyes flicker to his thin lips, then back to his warm chocolate eyes.

“Oh Helmut” she purrs, warmth flooding her.

Zemo raises his hands to cradle her face, pressing a longer, passionate kiss to her lips. Her arms wrap around his abdomen, tugging him closer to her. He draws back from the kiss, instead burying his head into her neck, kissing it as he wraps his arms around her back, resting on the back of her head, gently stroking her hair.

“I love you so much darling” he sighs, inhaling the sweet smell of her strawberry tainted perfume.

“I love you to Helmut. For forever,”

Her hair was matted with blood, her skin deathly pale. Bruises ran down her arms, down her neck.

Zemo pulled her out from under his father. He whispered her name, shaking her.

“Please,” he begged, “Please wake up,”

But she didn’t.

A scream wrenched from his throat. Hot tears spilled from his eyes. He buried his face into her hair, letting all the pain out. His heart plummeted, shattering inside his chest. He didn’t care who was watching, who was taking photos, videos. He just wanted her. But she was gone.

“Come on, it’s bedtime for you,” Zemo declares, gripping his son’s hand and leading him to his bedroom.

Zemo helped Carl into his pj’s then settled him into his bed, tucking him in.

“Dad, I’m scared of the monster under by bed,” Carl whispers

Zemo tilts his head looking at his son, “The monster under your bed?” he whispers back, leaning towards his son

“Yeah! I think it’s going to eat me,”

“Well, we can’t be having that can we,” Zemo claims, “I’ll look under the bed to see if I can spot anything,”

Carl holds his breath as Zemo dips his head down, searching under the bed. He stays under there for a few moments till,

“ROAR” Zemo shouts suddenly jumping up and at Carl, maintaining his hands in claw shapes and opening his mouth wide to look scary. His son shrieks and Zemo instantly goes to tickle him, making Carl laugh hysterically.

Finally, they settled down and Zemo rested his head on the side of his son’s bead, leaning on his side on the floor.

“That was mean dad!” Carl claims, crossing his arms as he glares at Zemo, but he struggles to keep a smile off his lips.

Zemo chuckles, smiling warmly at his son, “Sorry Carl, but I can confirm there is nothing under your bed,”

“But what if it comes back at night?”

“I’ll always be here to protect you, son. You know that,”

Zemo glances around the room and his eyes land on the pile of his son’s superheroes action figures. He leans over and picks up Iron Man off the heap and hands him to his son.

“But while I am not in the room Iron man here will protect you,”

Carl smiles, hugging the toy tightly.

“Do you think I’ll get to see the real Iron man one day?” he begs.

“I’m sure I can arrange something,” Zemo says, “Now you need to go to sleep or mummy will be upset with us”

Zemo leans over and tenderly puts a kiss on his son’s forehead. He walks away from the bed and glances over one last time at the bed, watching his son gently fall to sleep. He smiles to himself and presses the light switch off.

His little hands were still clutching her body. His once smooth dark brown hair was messy, unkept. His favorite t-shirt, with the dinosaur on, was torn. Stained. Zemo clung to him tightly. He gripped his son in his arms, but his son wasn’t there anymore.

Zemo didn’t even try to suppress his shrieks of agony. The sound burst from his throat. The sound of complete and utter grief.

“Carl,” he wailed, “My son. Please,”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for anymore. For time to go back? For revenge? All he felt was the pain. His eyes squeezed closed, not wanting to see the ghostly face his son still had. He crumpled on the ground beside his wife. His son still cradled against his body.

Slowly he opened his eyes, wiping the tears away. Something red caught his eyes. Beside the bodies was an Iron Man action figure.

Zemo reached a hand out and picked it up. His jaw clenched in hatred as he glared down at it. Using the last bit of strength he had, he threw the toy to the floor shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Years later, Zemo found himself at the same spot where he had lost everything he cherished. Before him stood a statue. The memorial sculpture to all the lives that were lost. His family. There were no flowers by it. He should have brought flowers.

An exquisite landscape surrounded it. Though if he reflected back on it, Sokovia had always been beautiful. He’d just taken the scenery for granted.

He was waiting for the end he knew was coming. Any minute.

He was grateful in a way. He got to appreciate life for one last time. Enjoy what it was like being a Baron again just for a moment. And now he has to go home. Soon to join his family. To see them again.

As he stared at the statue, he could hear footsteps approaching. They finally stopped beside him.

“I thought you’d be here sooner,” he says, taking one last look at the memorial before him. He turns his head slightly towards Bucky, then looks down to the ground to gather his words.

“Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you,”

“Imagine my relief,”

Bucky moves the gun as Zemo turns towards him, but Zemo already knew he had it. It was Bucky, after all. The winter soldier is still inside of him.

If these were his last moments, he could at least provide some advice to Bucky, though he doubted Bucky would listen. He’d grown fond of Bucky and Sam with the time they spent together and he knew them well enough to know they wouldn’t listen, but it was the least he could do to help.

“The girl has been radicalised beyond salvation,” Zemo says, stepping towards Bucky.

“I warned Sam, but he didn’t listen to me. He’s stubborn as Steve Rogers before him. But you…”

Zemo studies Bucky for a second, curious about his reaction, but Bucky remains impassive, expressionless. ‘One thing they had trained him for’, Zemo thought.

“They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere and there is only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”

“I appreciate the advice. But we’re going to do it our own way,”

Zemo chuckles slightly, looking away from Bucky. A slight melancholy in his voice, “Yeah. I was afraid you would say that”

There was a moment of silence between them, They both knew what was coming. What had to be done.

Zemo’s eyes flicker down to the gun as it clicks again. He perceived what was to happen, but now the moment was here, he could feel fear creep up on him. It crawled into his broken soul. He let out a shaky breath as he brought his gaze back up to Bucky as he raised the gun.

Zemo started down the barrel at Bucky, his gaze unwavering. Though he feared it. It was what he wanted.

He nods at Bucky signaling. It was okay. He would see his family soon.

Bucky pulled the trigger.

Taglist: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean

[zaddyzemo]

helmut zemo x reader x heinrich zemo

⚔

cw: power imbalance, sexist language, abusive behavior, emotional manipulation, dub-con, attempted impreg

summary: your loyalty to the House of Zemo is tested when the 12th baron travels through decades to aid his son in restoring their legacy and carrying on the bloodline

author's note: for more context, check out this Avengers: Ultron Revolution clip and the two pre-serum Helmut Zemo x Reader drabbles written in that universe

as an octogenarian, Helmut Zemo is now older than his father ever was. however, watching Heinrich remove his purple cowl for you to assess the damage done by Captain Roger's fist to his face, he saw that thanks to the Super Soldier serum and time displacement, the two of them were physically the same age. "the swelling should go away by morning, sir," you smile at the face you've become familiar with through faded photos and the genes his son inherited from his side. "there is no damage to your cranium." Heinrich hissed when you touched up his stitches. "if it weren't for Zemo 2099, a little bruise would've been the least of my worries."

he wasn't talking to you, however, and he hadn't been since Helmut had brought him back to his now old castle along with the cyborg Zemo 2099. he ignored you in favor of berating his son, and you hadn't seen the baron look this humbled before. his mask was still on his hanging head and you suspected he kept it on to hide his pained expression. "I am grateful for his assistance in our battle against the Avengers. and for keeping you safe, Vater."

"his assistance? he practically fought every single one of them off on his own while you stood there like the weak link you are." Heinrich pushed you aside so that he can properly yell in Helmut's face all the insults your master would've plunged his sword through the one speaking them, but he didn't dare move a hand against his father. standing perfectly still and silent, he was falling back into the role of the perfect soldier since he failed at being a good son. he only shifted when the man screamed "the only reason you're still standing here is that you're my true heir's great grandfather."

the thirteenth baron was nobody's great grandfather. truth be told, he was nobody's father. in eighty years, there's been no shortage of women between his satin sheets and there's been more than a few men. however, there's never been a baroness. so preoccupied recreating his father, Heinrich Zemo's work and restoring their legacy he was that he ironically didn't spend a single second on producing an heir. you suspected that he didn't wish to subject his supposed brood with the same trauma he went through. he's always had a soft spot for children and you only found out once he took you in that the orphanage you grew up in was one of his many estates. he grew up an orphan himself, but he's always had his blue blood to help him gain access to all the resources he needed. as far as he was concerned, every child in every orphanage he ever built was his heir.

however, Henrich Zemo didn't see it that way. he saw his son flinch at the mention of offsprings and figured out that he doesn't have a grandchild in this timeline. "you've not produced an heir?" when Helmut couldn't meet his eyes and the shame in them was visible through the mask, Heinrich raised his voice again. "YOU HAVEN'T EVEN GIVEN ME AN HEIR? HOW IS THE HOUSE OF ZEMO SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE WITHOUT AN HEIR?"

"Vater-"

"did you try and fail as you do in everything? did you not even try?"

"Please, Vater-"

"what about das mädchen?" he pointed you out as you were packing the medical supplies. "did you not sire a child by her? i'd even name a bastard born from a bed wench my heir if it meant the Zemo name will survive until 2099."

"she is not a bed wench, she is my apprentice-"

his attempts at protecting your honor were weak and so was his voice. as powerful and proud of a man he was around his allies and even enemies, he was pathetic in front of his parent. he was silenced with nothing but a slap.

"how you survived all these decades without me I do not know and, truth be told, I do not care to know." Heinrich Zemo watched his son straighten his crown on his head and his mask on his face. he was not just disappointed, he was downright disgusted. "if it weren't for my title, my fortune, and my Super Soldier serum, the house of Zemo would've died with me."

"with all due respect, baron," you snapped, smoothening the bed sheets where he sat earlier. "your son has sacrificed everything for the survival of the Zemo name. if it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here in the first place."

he looked at you as if you were a stain on his boot. "how dare you speak to me that way? Helmut, how dare you let her speak to me that way?"

"you are dismissed, mein fräuline."

"even if she were a lady, she should know not to speak unless spoken to."

that was when Heinrich Zemo acknowledged you. and approached you. his eyes he had passed on to Helmut, but you've never seen them look down on you as if you were the dirt under his sole before.

"I'll see to it that she never speaks to you that way again, Vater," Helmut made one last attempt at deescalating the situation, but he already had you backed against the bed. his old bed. "she will be punished for her insolence."

"yes, she will." Heinrich raised his hand up in the air and struck you across the face with the back of it. "she will learn her place in my palace." the lesson seemed to be going well as you were too shocked to say a word and your master was practically mute where he stood frozen in place. the sting of the slap didn't hurt nearly as much as the shame. "she belongs beneath us." he grabbed you by the jaw and forced you to face him again. "and she will not speak over us. do you hear me, madchen? you are never to speak unless spoken to. is that clear or are your little peasant ears so dirty and clogged that you haven't heard a word I said?"

you tried looking back at your master, the thirteenth baron, but the twelfth wouldn't let you. he squeezed down on your jaw. "yes, sir."

"now was that so hard?" he loosened his grip and stroked the handprint he left on your cheeks and the tears that fell on top. you nodded instead of opening your mouth again. "of course not. you were born to obey, mein kleines lamm. and i was born to lead you lest you wander astray. no harm will ever come to you as long as you do as you are told. you will be safe, as long as you serve the house of Zemo. have I make myself understood or should i speak plainly so that you can follow along?"

"I've read all the books in the castle library, sir, including your journals. I can follow along with your words just fine."

when you saw him smile for the first time, you recognized it as Helmut Zemo's lips stretched across a row of carnivorous teeth. they were lions who've developed an appetite for lowly little lambs like you. "she's a mouthy one, isn't she? clever, too." father then turned to look at his son as he pushed the hair off of your shoulders and exposed your cleavage. "I see why you'd keep her close and even let her wear your own mother's clothes." then, he yanked your hair back and twisted it along with the rest of your body. when your back was against his chest, he came close to your ear and caught it between his canines. "you're lucky us Zemo men have a weakness for reckless women. you're always asking for it and we're always willing to set you straight."

"Vater, what are you-" Helmut found his voice, but he had yet to find the strength to step in between you and Heinrich.

"if you won't make a baroness out of this peasant girl, then I will." he licked the bitemark and buried you face-first into the bed covers. "my lineage will not end with you," he held your head down while lifting your skirts. "if you are too weak to sire an heir, then I'll do it myself."

you struggled, but he was too strong. his hands on you had a powerful grip as they parted your legs and ripped your underwear on the furst try. his hands also awakened the same ardor his son's did whenever he touched you. you were burning with shame and need in equal measure.

"you've kept a young, clean and ripe little cunt in my castle for years and you didn't even once consider it," Heinrich placed his pelvis between your thighs which were trembling in fear and anticipation. one of his fingers, his thumb, traced the lips and the leakage they were covered in. he did this several times, testing you. "look at this, Helmut. she's already wet and ready to receive me. she was made for this," he sinks his finger in and your cunt closes its warm and wet wall around it. "look at how she swallowed me whole. she was made to carry my royal brood," he chuckled, ecstatic to be so enthusiastically enveloped by you. "as lowly as you are, I'll turn you into the lady this fool never could, little lamb," he addressed you, but his words were meant to provoke his supposedly foolish son. still, you moaned into the mattress and even moved against his thumb, your body ready to be bred just like he said.

you almost missed the sound of Helmut hitting his father across his already bruised face, you were that preoccupied with whining pathetically at the loss of the feeling if being penetrated. all of a sudden, you were flipped over, your spime sinking into the mattress as your master - your true master - looked down at you with a bare face and a lustful gaze.

you sucked in air, breathless from Heinrich's ministrations and Helmut's manhandling. you didn't dare fight him ripping open your corset. finally, you could breathe snd he could behold your heaving breast which he marked as his with his teeth every night.

"I never impregnated her because I didn't want to, not because I couldn't," he looked back where his father lay on the floor. "i watched her grow under my own eyes, under a microscope, and I am very much aware of her fertile womb, father. and it is mine to turn into a bed wench, servant, assistant and even the mother of the next generation of Zemos, if I so desire." his large hands grabbed you under your knees and spreading you wide enough for him to slot himself between your legs. "she is mine."

"finally," Heinrich found his voice and his footing again as he stood up. "a show of strength," he watched you surrender to his son fully, arms flailing as you scratched the sheets in search of a grip. Helmut had entered you up to the hilt and split you open in one stroke. seeing his boy bury himself into your belly fully and noticing the bump his cock created in your abdomen, he grabbed him by his wide shoulders from behind. "you sound like the lion cub i never got to raise. you almost make me proud."

Helmut was heaving, his wide chest expanding as he lost himself in the luxury of your luscious cunt. he turned towards his father and his words of praise. "I am not a child anymore, father. I am a man. I take what is mine and tear apart all those who stand between me and what is mine." at this, he pulled out only to plummet back in. in a flash, his pace was fast and you found yourself mewling, a cat in heat or maybe a sacrificial lamb. you were his to devour.

"yes," Heinrich rubbed at Helmut's shoulders as his breathing got heavy. "yes, that's it," his hands moved lower, sliding down his spine and holding onto his lips. when the song stopped to slap the underside of your thigh, the father chuckled. "that's my boy," he squeezed his sides as they snapped against you, the sound of skin slapping against skin bringing the smirk back to his father's face as his son chased his carnal release. "mein guter junge," he nuzzled his ear. "now, come inside. come inside that cunt. that's your cunt, my boy, now claim it."

you tossed your head back as he lifted your hip up in the air and slid his cock so deep in your cunt, you saw stars on the ceiling.

"fräuline," Helmut grunted, burying himself deep inside your guts. "fräuline, you're mine." he tossed his head back against Heinrich's shoulder. "give me a son, mein fräuline."

"yes," your tongue lolled out as your eyes rolled back. your brain was a blur as you agreed to be a broodmare for the house of Zemo. "yesyesyes."

"come inside," his father pressed his lips against his earlobe. "make me proud," he kissed the shell of his ear. "come inside that cunt and give me an heir."

there's nothing he wanted more than to spill his seed inside of you. well, maybe getting more of his father's praise. once he emptied himself inside your womb, he got a pat on his head, sweaty head slicked back as you got a pat on your full tummy. "mein guter junge."

"Vater."

[bestie-enthusiast]

Chapter 3: Sam Fills in, Zemo is not Impressed (and also has his first therapy appointment)

Hello!! This is the third chapter of my PTA! Dad! Zemo fic. This is the fifth installment of 11, and the previous chapters can be found under the hashtag pta dad zemo.

Fic Summary: After the untimely death of both his wife and father due to a bombing, Baron Helmut Zemo takes his son and immigrates to America. He does not expect to find a family nor a romantic partner, and he especially does not expect to find the ability to heal. To grieve.

And yet, here we are.

This is a story about connections, growing, healing and mourning the past while still appreciating the future and all it has to offer.

Chapter WC: 1731

Fic below cut if you're interested!

Three days later.

Zemo frowned slightly as he listened to Carol’s rant. She had called an “emergency” PTA meeting (and he was fairly certain she paid the principal to let her do it), but there was no real emergency. Instead all Carol was doing was going on and on about how her son was being “bullied” for his lack of potty training. Her child was in fourth grade, of course the other children were making fun of him.

Even worse was that Sarah hadn’t been able to come in, she was at work, and so her brother had come instead. Zemo had met him only once, at a charity event the school was hosting, and he was not at all subtle in his distaste for Zemo. So he sat in silence listening to Carol’s ranting. No one was in the mood to tell her to shut up, so they all just sat there and waited for her to tire herself out.

Once Carol was done seething she looked at them expectantly, but no one said anything. No one dared to move an inch as they waited for Carol to completely calm down. Eventually, Carol stormed out with a huff and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. A few people stood up, and Zemo stood after them. He started to walk out when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He instinctively tensed up but turned around. It was Sam.

“Sorry to bother you man, but Sarah said your, uh, butler was with AJ and Cass at a park? Sarah didn’t tell me where, so could I tag along with you?” He asked awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he spoke.

“Of course.” Zemo said, nodding. Sam trailed behind him quietly as they began their walk. Zemo almost forgot he was there, with how silent he was being. He thought about all the things he’s ever said or done to hurt any member of the Wilson family, hoping he could think of something to apologise for. He couldn’t think of anything he hadn’t already apologised for or done something to make up for, so he assumed Sam had a different reason to not like him. He didn’t wish to assume it was because of his financial state.

Eventually they made their way to the park, where Oeznik was dutifully watching over Carl, AJ, and Cass. He gave a muttered goodbye to Sam and hurried over to Carl, gently leading him away and following Oeznik to the car.

He absentmindedly listened to Carl talk about his school day as he pulled open his messenger app. He texted Sarah, just to make sure she was okay and not because Sam filling in had reminded him of how lonely he actually was. Sarah texted him back that she was busy with work, and then asked why Sam was so pissed at him. He replied that he didn’t know and she just sent back an eye roll emoji, so he let the conversation end.

He conversed with Carl on the rest of the way back, reminding himself that Sarah was just an acquaintance, and that he shouldn’t let himself get distracted from the only thing that actually mattered, that being Carl.

Sure Sarah was the only person who he trusted outside of Carl and Oeznik, but Carl was the only person that actually mattered to him any more. His consultation with Dr. Raynor was tomorrow, and while he was initially enthusiastic at the prospect, he now regarded the appointment with dread.

After letting out a quiet sigh, Zemo plastered on a large, fake grin, and helped Carl with his school work while Oeznik prepared dinner. He helped Carl get ready for bed, but tonight he did not even bother attempting to fall asleep. He holed himself up in his office, working on things until his hands shook and cramped and his vision grew blurry, at which point he took a cold shower, and resumed work.

Eventually it came time for him to get ready, so he gently woke up Carl to tell him he had an early meeting out of town, but he would be back in time to collect him from school. Carl nodded sleepily and Zemo quietly got dressed, did his hair, and carefully completed his skin care routine.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he got into his car and started the long commute to Dr. Raynors office. If he decided to keep her as his full time therapist, he would need to find a shorter way to her office, or perhaps have only phone sessions.

He arrived fifteen minutes early, and spent the time analyzing the decor of her office and fiddling with his phone. Soon enough it was his own name being called. He stood and entered the office, shaking hands with Dr. Raynor when she offered.

“And you are… Helmut Zemo, correct?” He nodded, so used to the mispronunciation of his first name on the rare occasions it was used that he couldn’t be bothered to correct her.

“Yes, but I prefer to be referred to by just my last name.” Mentally he tacked on, ‘because you Americans say it wrong and I can’t be expected to deal with that.’

“Sure.” She said, writing something down in her notebook. “So I’ve looked over all your paperwork, but I want to know, coming from you directly, why you are here.” She said, and it didn’t sound at all like a question, more like a straight fact.

“I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, you specialise in that.” He said simply, it was the main reason anyway. He did not comment on how he believed their personalities would match, as he was only here for her to consult on whether or not she would take him on as a patient.

“Right,” She said, rolling her eyes. Zemo held back a smile, she rather reminded him of his wife- oh.

She would not work as his therapist. He thought that she would work well, as she could call him out when he refused to do it himself, but no. Talking to her, talking about his emotions to her, would just remind him too much of Heike. Zemo struggled to keep a smirk on his face, or at the very least a neutral look, while she asked him questions. He responded at least somewhat honestly, and then they continued.

“So I’m going to be honest with you, I really only take on patients that peak my interest, and you haven’t.” Zemo held back a wince at the admission, although he supposed he was purposefully making himself that way. He only talked about his time as a Sokovian soldier, not at all about the loss of his wife (or father, but that issue was buried so deep that he forgot about it on occasion), or his obsession over Carl’s schooling and keeping him happy. He did not mention the fact that he felt a rather immense amount of guilt for feeling any sort of attraction, or that he was lonely. And he purposefully kept his face as straight and closed as he possibly could throughout their entire conversation. And so Zemo couldn’t help but relax a tad bit at the statement. No wife-like therapist for him, her death was not an issue he was ready to tackle yet like he thought when he made the appointment.

“Are you- Are you relieved?” She asked incredulously, and Zemo only blinked. She had noticed the slight change in his posture when she had said that. Oops.

“I could tell we were not going to get along.” Zemo replied, and it was the truth. Or partial truth? They would get along, rather spectacularly, according to all the personality assessments the people who left reviews had said. That's what he didn’t want though, he wanted to be detached and unreliant on whichever therapist he acquired, he would become far too attached to Dr. Raynor due to her similar personality to his wife.

“That is utter bullshit. You read the reviews before coming, you knew what I was like before you even came into this room. Why are you relieved I don’t want you as my patient?” Zemo frowned and licked his lips, he was not about to tell her about his wife before they ever had a proper session. “That information is… confidential. And you are not my confidant.” Zemo replied snarkily, who did this woman think she was? She already said no, and yet here she was, still questioning him?

“I’ve changed my mind, you are a very interesting case.” Zemo didn’t know how to feel about that.

“That’s all well and good, but I’m afraid I have not changed mine.” Zemo said, giving the doctor one last, polite, smile before standing up. She stood up as well and he held out his hand for a shake, which she did.

“If you reconsider, you know my number.” She said, before letting go. He nodded and started to walk out the door. Once he was in the waiting room he was surprised to find James sitting in there, fiddling with his phone. Carefully keeping his footsteps quiet, he kept his head down and walked past James, who looked up.

“Zemo?” James asked in surprise, and he turned around to give James a smile, a real one.

“Ah, hello Mr. Barnes.” Zemo greeted back, feeling the all too familiar flutter in his heart at the sight of James. Guilt and shame crashed over him like they did every time he felt that flutter, but it didn’t deter it in the slightest.

“Bucky, please. I didn’t know you knew Dr. Raynor,” James commented with a small smile.

“Y-yes well, I’m just here for a consultation appointment.” Zemo stuttered, that smile made his heart do things, such as sending blood southwards. “Well, Dr. Raynor is the best at what she does.” James responded with a smirk, and a shrug. Zemo gave him another smile, a quick wave, and then he was on his way. As soon as he was out of the building he called Dr. Raynor left her a voicemail stating he had changed his mind, and would like to become a regular client. Seeing James every so often in a non-school setting would be worth it, maybe he’d get to see that smile pointed at him again.

Tagging: @morganbritton132 (Who came up with this AU) and @i-ll-be-the-moon (Who is a great and suportive friend!)

[pricetagofficial]

The Archer -T.D.

So decided to post the first bit of my Tim Drake fic on here to see what you all think, this is not a reader insert sorry but I hold Rory Queen very close to my heart. I hope you all will love her as much as I do.

Part Two

Warnings: Language, blood, sexual content and probably more. These warnings are for the entire fic, not just this part.

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: @catxsnow​ (Just let me know if you want to be put in the tags)

Preface

All Aurora could see was gray. Grey ash, grey concrete amongst the dead bodies covered in the grey. Glancing down, she caught sight of two familiar figures. Getting to her feet, Rory ran as fast as her 11-year-old legs could carry her. Falling to her knees, her tiny hands tried to lift the slabs of concrete off the people buried underneath.

"Help!" she screamed. "Somebody help me!"

Rory's arms were seconds away from giving out when two large, muscular arms arrived and began to lift the concrete with her. What she saw underneath only confirmed her worst fears. Letting out a scream of anguish, Rory's eyes met with the lifeless gaze of her parents.

Desperate for any form of comfort, Rory collapsed into the green-clad hero who helped uncover her parents. She felt his strong arms wrap around her in a comforting embrace.

"Hey Green, we need yo-"  The voice of a woman was cut off, the sight broke her heart. The Green Arrow was sat on his knees, holding a little girl who was grieving over the sight of her dead parents.

Green Arrow looked up at his wife and partner. "Canary, help me get her back to base." he said, his own voice strained from holding back sobs. Black Canary gave him a nod, walking over and taking the young girl into her arms.

Green Arrow rose to his feet. "I'll help Red finish up here. Get her out." he ordered.

Black Canary gave him yet another nod and began to walk to her bike. "Can you tell me your name sweetheart?" she asked the sobbing child.

"A-Aurora. But I like Rory more." she responded, hiccuping at the end.

"Aurora? That's a beautiful name." Rory looked up at the beautiful woman carrying her.

"Really?" she asked. "My best friend used to say the same thing."

"Well, your best friend is very smart." The two of them arrived to Black Canary's bike and she gently set the girl down. "I'm going to need you to hold on, can you do that for me?"

Aurora gave her a nod and let the woman place a slightly larger helmut on her head, fastening it tight. Once Rory was ready, Canary set her on the bike and climbed on behind her, keeping the girl close to her chest. Revving up her bike, the two of them took off for the Arrow Cave.

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Chapter One

9 Years Later

"Was that supposed to hurt?" The Grey Arrow pulled the mugger's knife out of her shoulder and flipped it around in her hand with a wide grin on her face. Stumbling, the mugger dropped the girl and began to back away. Grey Arrow, knelt to help up the poor girl and the man took this as his chance to escape.

"Where do you think you're off to?" she asked, throwing the already bloody knife into his thigh making him fall to the floor with a cry of pain. Before he could even get the chance to stand up, Grey Arrow put her foot on his chest pinning him to the floor.

"Alright! I give up! Take me in!" he cried.

The grin didn't leave her face as she gripped the knife hanging from his thigh. "I want you to apologize to the lady first," she demanded, the man groaning in pain.

"The hell I will!" he countered. Grey Arrow only turned the knife in his thigh, making him scream in pain.

"I said, apologize." She demanded once again, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone that the criminals of Star City knew all to well.

"Arrow, I don't nee-" the girl started.

"He will apologize, it's considered good manners." Grey Arrow seethed, twisting the knife further.

The man let out a blood curdling scream, "Alright! Fine, I'll apologize!" he cried. At this, Grey Arrow stilled her hand.

"We're waiting."

"I'm sorry! God, I'm sorry! Now let me go!"

Grey Arrow released her grip on the knife, and got to her feet. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" she asked.

"Fuck you." he spat, gripping his bleeding thigh.

Grey Arrow punched him, knocking the man out. "In your dreams." Then she turned to the girl behind her, staring at her in bewilderment.

"Call the police." She ordered, the girl picked up her phone and began dialing quickly. "Also, don't mention me if you don't mind." and with that, Grey Arrow took off for her bike, hidden a few blocks down.

Dropping down from the fire escape, she landed on her bike gracefully and revved it to life the sleek, black vehicle humming underneath her. Blowing some stray hair out of her face, she took off for Queen Manor.

Pulling into the underside, Aurora Sonnet-Queen removed her domino mask, her brown eyes scanning across the Arrow Cave. Swinging her leg up and off the bike, Rory made her way to her case and out her mask and weapons away safely.

The Arrow Cave had been quiet ever since Roy left to join the Outlaws with his other best friend; Jackson Rod or whatever along with a few of their other mutual friends and old flames of Rory's. If her memory served her right, and she was always right, there was only one person on the team that she hadn't met and it was Jackson.

Grabbing some gauze, Rory untied her chest piece and let it fall to her waist still wearing a black razor top underneath. The stab wound on her shoulder wasn't bad, but it did need to be doctored. Lucky for her, Oliver and Dinah taught her how to apply first aid.

Dressing the wound was not a painful as she thought it would be, it just required cleaning and a couple of homemade stitches. Once she finished, Rory slid the rest of her suit off and hung it up in her display case. Taking her glance to the left, she saw not only her Arrowette suit, but her White Arrow suit.

Every time she laid her eyes on this suit, Rory felt a pang in her chest longing for the girl she used to be. But she could never be that girl again. Turning away, she made her way to the stairs that led up to the mansion. The second she entered the main lobby, there was a yell across the mansion.

"Aurora James Queen! My study now!"

Something told Rory that Oliver found out about something she did and that was never good news.

Normally, Oliver and Rory had a great relationship, but this last year was hard on her. Aurora used to be the White Arrow; the symbol of hope and pure goodness in Star City. But everything was different now.

Rory was now the Grey Arrow and preferred to work alone. Oliver, Dinah and especially Roy hated that she pushed them all away. Roy had been her best friend for years now and she trusted him more than anyone, except for the fact that she refused to work with him now and it was for his own safety.

What could Oliver had found out this time? Truth be told Rory didn't hold many secrets from Oliver, just the ones she knew that he would not agree or approve of. Slowly creaking the door open, Rory saw both Oliver and Dinah waiting her. Now she knew that whatever this was about, it was bad.

Hey Oli, what's up?" she asked, her signature smile gracing her face.

"What's up? Why don't you ask the three comatose thugs you put in the hospital last night?" he frowned, crossing his arms.

Well, there could be worse he found out about. Rory moved and sat in the chair across from him. "They were rapists Oli, they're lucky that I didn't castrate and leave them for dead." she said sternly, her gaze not breaking from Oliver's.

Oliver's eyes didn't break their gaze either. It seemed that her was searching for any sense of remorse let alone any emotion but all he saw was nothing. That's what worried him and Dinah the most. Rory seemed to have no form of emotion any more other than rage and her usual sarcasm.

"Aurora, you can't keep going on like this. One day you're going to take it too far and you won't be able to come back from it." Dinah said, moving to kneel next her seat.

Rory avoided Dinah's gaze, knowing full well that she could convince her to do anything with just one look.

"In case you both forgot, I did cross that line. Looks like I am just fine." she snapped, not taking her gaze off Oliver.

"That's the thing, you aren't fine. We adopted you, raised you  and brought you into this world of crime fighting. Of course we can tell when you are not fine and you haven't been fine since out last encounter with Slade."

Hearing that name set Rory's heart on fire. Memories flooded her mind of all the dead bodies, including her parents. Absentmindedly, her hand traced the thin golden brand on her wrist. The last gift her father had given her mother for their last anniversary.

"This is why you can't stay here."

Rory's eyes narrowed. "What, so you're going to kick out your daughter out?"

"No, you are going to be staying with a friend from the league for a while."

Rory let out a groan. "Oh please tell me that it's not the golden boy, Superman." she threw her head back. "I can't do his boy scout attitude."

Dinah tried to hide her laugh, "No, Clark is not who you are staying with dear."

"Then where would I be staying?" Rory asked, looking at her adoptive mother.

"You are going to Gotham City to stay with Bruce Wayne. Dinah and I think that if anyone can help you overcome the darkness in your heart, it would be the Dark Knight himself." Oliver explained. "Even Roy agrees with us. He is just as worried about you."

"You're sending me to Gotham? Oli, did Merlyn hit you too hard last week? The crime rate in Gotham is worse. You really think that this will help?" she countered. "Besides, do you not remember the last time I saw Bruce? I kicked his ass and bleached his cape."

"Yes, I remember. It still baffles me that you managed to bleach his bat cape. But Bruce agrees, he thinks you might be able to learn something from him and his family. All of them have been trained since a young age too." Oliver said, his gaze not faltering.

Letting out a sigh, Rory nodded. "All right fine, when do I leave?"

Both Oliver and Dinah decided that it was best if only one of them flew Rory down to Gotham, Star City still needed a hero and they were not stupid enough to let her go on her own either. The good news was that the flight was only 8 hours long, even though Rory hated flying. The last time she flew, it was not in a plane.

The Justice League's resident golden boy decided that it was a good idea to fly her across Star City. Supes was in town to help Oliver on a case when Count Vertigo attacked the hospitals. Just remembering that day sent shivers down her spine, making Oliver take notice.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Rory nodded, "Yeah, just glad that there is no one in Gotham can fly. Right?" she asked. Oliver laughed at her question.

"No one I know of can fly in Gotham." His statement set Rory at east as she finally relaxed into her seat.

[firedupauthor]

Twisted Riches Chapter 3: The Docks

When Sam calls an old friend for help on a mission, she never expected it to take the turn it did. Not that she's complaining. Zhou AnChen, loves nothing more than causing chaos wherever she goes. Having just returned to the world after being dusted, she's ready to get back out in the world. As she and Zemo get to know each other more, the more they find they have a lot in common, and maybe something more

*I suck at summaries* *Also, this author is asexual, so there will be no sex scenes, but please still read*

By the time they got to Sharon’s apartment, Ani’s ankle was really starting to hurt. Zemo kept looking over at her with concern as she rubbed at it, as it slowly started to swell. He apologized again, which she waved away. He’d apologized so much already, it was annoyingly cute.

She took her heels off the second she could, opting to walk, or limp, barefoot around Sharon’s apartment. She had an impressive collection of artworks. Mao would like some of these. Maybe she should give her a call. Oh, but her ankle was killing her. So AnChen wasn’t too worried about it right now.

Ani all but collapsed on the couch, as Sharon handed her an ice pack and some Tylenol. It helped wonders. Zemo sat next to her. She wasn’t too concerned with the conversation, resting her head against his shoulder. God, her ankle hurt. It wasn’t broken. That much she knew. But it hurt like a bitch.

“Are you alright, Liebling?” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Yeah. My ankle just hurts a bit.”

“He knows. And not so deep down,” Zemo said, presumably in answer to something the others had said.

Ani lifted her head, watching the others.

“By the way, how’s the new Cap?” Sharon asked.

“Don’t get me started,” Bucky grumbled.

Sharon scoffed, before coming to sit next to him.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath,” she pointed at Zemo, “you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend.”

That made her laugh. She was going to use that.

The conversation continued before it took a turn to why they were there. Ani, not much interested in the conversation, picked up one of the magazines on the coffee table and started flipping through it.

“Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance.”

“We didn’t kill Selby,” Sam defended.

“No, I’m not talking about that,” Sharon stated. “I’m talking about her,” she pointed at Ani, and all eyes turned to her. She glanced up.

“What about Ani?” Sam asked.

Sharon stared at him like she couldn’t believe he was even asking the question.

“’Ani’ as you call her, is the daughter of Zhou Wei, who runs one of the most powerful crime families in the world. Not even the Power Broker can touch her.”

Again, all eyes turn back to her.

“Is that true?” Bucky asks.

“Even if she is a Queenpin, she’s probably more trustworthy than you,” Angel said.

“Ani, you’re a mobster?” Sam questioned.

She looked up at him from her magazine.

“I am, I guess.”

“W-why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked.”

“That seems like a big thing not to mention.”

“You never asked, Sam.”

“Does that mean that you might know where Nagel is?” Angel asked.

Ani shook her head.

“I’m well-connected, but I haven’t been back long enough to reestablish most of my contacts.”

“Wait,” Sam piped up, “does that mean you could like… have all of us kill?” he said in a joking manner.

“If I wanted to,” she replied, flipping the page.

There was a very pregnant silence at that when Angel broke it.

“I like her.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Sharon broke it, by telling Ani that she had something she could change into. Following her to a bedroom, Sharon left her to get changed. Unfortunately, nothing fit. The pants were too small, and she couldn’t get them past her thighs. The shirt was also too small, her boobs being too big for the top. Ani sighed, before changing back into the dress Zemo gave her. At least the flat shoes fit.

Ani came back out, and Zemo only seemed to notice. The others too into their conversation to notice.

“I thought you were changing?”

“Nothing fit. Everything was too small.”

He nodded.

“How is your ankle?”

“Better, thank you.”

Sharon told them that they needed to lay low and enjoy the party as she tried to find out where Nagel was.

Once the party started everyone seemed to go their own separate way. Ani made her way to the bar, she just wanted to drink. After tonight, she felt she deserved it. She sat on one of the chairs and turned around to watch the crowd. She couldn’t see Sam, Bucky, or Angel, but she did glimpse of Zemo, which almost made her choke on her drink.

He seemed so relaxed as he danced, rather poorly, to the music. But it made her smile. It was easy to see that he was enjoying his newfound freedom. He noticed her staring, and smiled, then made his way over to her.

“Enjoying yourself, Baron?” she asked once he was close enough.

He grinned as he leaned against the bar, his body facing her. A light coating of sweat covered him. Oh, he was attractive. It almost wasn’t fair.

“Very much so. And you, Liebling?”

“Not as much as you, xinggan.”

“So, tell me about yourself,” he said after ordering a drink.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

She thought about it for a second.

“I am adopted.”

“Really,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded.

“Me and my brother Jay. Though not at the same time.”

They began talking about anything, everything, and nothing at all. As it turned out, they had a lot in common. As she talked to him, it felt like she had known him her whole life.

“What about you? Where do all those cars come from?”

“Mostly from my father if I’m honest. He always loved old cars.”

“You must miss them.”

“I do,” he said looking at her, but not really seeing her.

“I’m so sorry, Zemo.”

His eyes refocused on her, and he gave her a grateful smile, but it was sad. He took a lock of her black hair, and curled it around his finger, before letting it fall. Then he brushed that lock of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers brush against her cheek.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Liebling. You were not there.”

“I know. But I still feel like someone should.”

He smiled again.

“You can call me Helmut, Liebling.”

“Helmut,” she said, testing the name out.

He smiled and shifted slightly closer. Ani let her hand run across his forearm and bringing it to rest at his elbow.

“Liebling, I—”

“If you're going to apologize again, then I’m going to hit you. You’ve apologized for enough for tonight.”

He chuckled and held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Very well, draga.”

“Tell me what it was like growing up in Sokovia? I never got to visit. I was planning on it, but…”

“But…?”

“I got dusted before I had the chance.”

“Sokovia…” he seemed to contemplate what he was going to say, “was a very poor country,” he said honestly. “It was a failed state long before the Avengers came. But it was beautiful. You would have liked it.”

Helmut met her eyes, brown meeting black, and Ani felt her breath catch in her throat. She hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. Zemo rested his forehead against hers.

“I don’t think your friends wouldn’t be too happy about this,” he said.

“I’m old enough to make my own choices,” she replied.

Her hand came to rest on the back of his neck, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. And for the second time that night, their lips met. But this time, there was no need to act. It felt as good as the first time. Her other hand came to rest on his chest. Zemo’s hands cupped her face, keeping her from moving. Not that she would. Nor would she stop the tiny noises that escaped from her.

Ani’s fingers curled into his shirt, she wanted to pull him closer. She didn’t really care that Sam and Bucky could find them like this. He made her feel special.

But then someone cleared their throat.

Ani felt annoyed, and this time didn’t stop the small whine that escaped her.

It was Sharon, and she was giving them a disapproving look. But Ani couldn’t care less about what she thought. Ani didn’t even know her.

“I found Nagel. We can go get him in the morning,” she said. “I’d get some rest if I were you.”

They woke up early the next morning. Ani thankfully found a change of clothes that fit and ones that covered up the marks Helmut had left during their night together. Before she had fallen asleep with him, Ani had asked if they could keep this between them. He had agreed, saying that no one needed to know. He had treated her like a princess. Made her feel like the only woman in the world.

Helmut had woken her at around four in the morning, saying that she needed to go back to her room. She had grumbled the whole way there, which, admittedly wasn’t that far. But she had had to leave the comfort of Helmut’s warm bed.

Ani wore a black, long-sleeve, turtleneck, that ended right before her navel, white high-waisted shorts, black stockings that were held up by thin black suspenders, and black boots. She then pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

The drive to the docks was quiet, everyone on edge.

Ani still left like she could sleep for several more hours. Helmut had seen to that. And she was irritated that he seemed to be wide away. She hated mornings. She could’ve slept til noon if she could.

She tried to stifle her yawn and was only moderately successful. Helmut gave her a knowing look. Ani made a face at him. Which made him chuckle.

The dockyard was massive. Shipping containers as far as the eye could see. Sharon showed them where Nagel was supposed to be.

“All right,” she said, handing each other of them an earpiece. “He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel.”

“I’ll keep an eye out as well,” Angel spoke up.

“I need a bell for you,” Ani said.

“Why?” she blinked.

“So you can stop sneaking up on me.”

“We need to hurry,” Sharon snapped. “We’re on borrowed time.”

The three of them entered the seemingly empty shipping container.

“This can’t be it,” Ani said.

Sam asked Sharon the same thing.

Sharon confirmed that it was the right one.

Helmut was examining one of the walls of the container, seeming to be searching for a hidden door. And find it he did. The sound of music reached their ears. Ani pulled out a gun and held it by her side. She followed behind Helmut, with Sam and Bucky following after her.

The music was loud of to mask the sound of their approach. There was a small scrawny man sitting over a desk working on something. As they got closer, the man, Nagel if she had to guess, still didn’t hear them. He was too busy singing along with the song.

She stood next to Helmut as he flicked the needle off the old record player. That the man’s attention. Sam grabbed Nagel and slammed the man against the wall.

The scrawny doctor refused to talk until Sam point Helmut and Ani out.

“Hey, you know who they are, right?”

Nagel said nothing, his gaze flickering between the two of them.

“This is Baron Zemo and Zhou AnChen.”

Nagel’s gaze flickered down to her hip where he caught a glimpse of her tattoo and audibly swallowed.

Nagel wanted them to make him a better offer, but when Bucky held his gun up to his temple, the good doctor quickly became chatty.

He spilled his guts, telling them everything. It was almost too easy. As it turned out, he was able to make more super-soldier serum. But Ani wasn’t too interested in the idiot doctor with no backbone. Like, he could’ve tried to put up more of a fight.

Her eyes followed Helmut as he walked around the lab, examining different things. She wondered what he was thinking. He seemed to be searching for something. What it was, she didn’t know.

Ani really couldn’t care less about the doctor that thought too highly of himself. All he did was recreate someone else’s work. Not all that impressive if you ask her. All the heavy lifting was already said and done. Helmut came to stand next to her, his hands behind his back.

After a few more minutes of Nagel tooting his own horn, Angel ran in, soon followed by Sharon saying that they were out of time.

Then, quick as a flash, Helmut pulled out a gun and fired at Nagel, killing him.

While her friend couldn’t believe it, Ani was relieved. As she was turning to Helmut to say so, an explosion happened, throwing everyone to the ground.

An felt her head collide with something, and her ears began to ring. An alarm was blaring, as she rolled over. Helmut was above her trying to get her to stand. Slowly, AnChen got to her feet. Oh god, her head hurt, and she couldn’t see straight. If she got a concussion, she was going to be pissed!

Helmut helped her up and out of the now on fire shipping container.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sounding like he was in a fishbowl.

“Shì de, wô huì,” she said, not realizing she had slipped back into Chinese. But Helmut seemed to understand her.

They stopped and let her gather her bearings. Everything spun, and her ears still rung. Ugh, this was annoying.

“Stay here, Liebling. I will be right back,” Helmut said, kissing her temple.

She watched both Barons walk away, before squeezing her eyes shut, so the world would stop spinning. Ani was beginning to regret answering Sam’s phone call. A twisted ankle, and now a possible concussion. Man, he owed her big time.

Eventually, everything did stop spinning. Her ears still rung slightly, but it was manageable now. Ani wasn’t sure how much time past. Probably not much. She started walking in the direction the two Barons had gone when she heard another explosion in the direction they had come.

Running back that way, she saw, shockingly, Sam and Bucky arguing, and Helmut fighting, rather impressively, against a group of guards. He was wearing a strange purple mask. But, who was she to judge? Once those bounty hunters were dealt with, Helmut ran off, presumably after more hunters.

“Ani!” It was Sam that called her.

“Hi, Sam,” she said weakly.

“Have you seen Zemo?”

“He was…” she pointed at where he had been. Funny, she could’ve sworn he had been there a second ago.

“Dammit! He bolted!” Sam cursed.

Ani frowned. That didn’t seem like something he’d do. Her head hurt. And she was tired. It was way too early for all this.

Then the sound of tires screeching reached their ears. It made Ani grit her teeth, as her head pounded.

Helmut was there in another vintage car.

“Supercharged,” he said lamely. But it made her smile, and she got into the passenger side, not caring if the others did. Her head was killing her, and she wanted to sit down.

Sam and Bucky, again shockingly, started arguing, as Angel joined her and the Baron in the car. Finally, after much convincing, Sam and Bucky got into the back of the car and they were headed back to the airport.

Masterlist

[redstarbonky]

tfatws ep 2 not-really-live liveblog (SPOILERS AHEAD! SPOILERS HERE! HERE BE SPOILERS!)

and i must reiterate again THERE ARE SPOILERS AFOOT

i can’t believe it’s only been a week! the suez canal fat boat incident has really slowed down the previous few days 🥴 something else different is that this is the first ep i’ve stayed up late to watch! hype hype hype!

anyway AAAAAAAAAAAAA I HOPE THERE’S SOME ZEMO. give me the bruhl. we only have six episodes...

i just appreciate this recap because SAM is in it and BUCKY is in it and TORRES is in it and SARAH is in it and WINTER SOLDIER is in it and oh hello john walker again

zipper shot...zipper shot...zipper shot...

i am open to john walker not being awful, i promise

is this his sister? friend? girlfriend? ok probably girlfriend

“they're gonna love you” ma’am..............have you looked at the fandom lately.............

they're doing the chorus girl thing to this guy! steve hated it too, john...steve hated it too

every time i see steve in the marvel intro i feel a little bit stabbed in the neck 🙃

THE SONG IS EVEN THE SAME. did they get a real band and flag team and dance team to do the performance?

is he not enhanced then? no serum? i find that hard to believe. eh, maybe he's doping

please i’m begging you to stop mentioning tony stark

BUCKY’S FACE...nooooo...literally looks like he's about to cry 😭

sam and torres my beloveds

sam 😭 pls 😭 i’m 😭 so 😭 upset 😭 about 😭 this 😭😭😭 *eternally shrieking*

androids, aliens, and wizards. sam is completely correct, that’s who they fight. they’re not on any of that friendly neighborhood spider-man business

bucky you’re a nerd, aren’t you

man sam haven’t you heard of the thousand yard stare? one of the most obvious PTSD symptoms that exists, observed even before we had PTSD as a diagnosis?? 😭

“no you’re not coming with me” said sam as bucky came with him anyway sdkfjsdjhbg

does torres know...about the...never mind

bucky: “i am juiced on experimental fascist serum, i am 100% sure i can survive this plummet into a forest”

redwing my beloved...

ahaha that little attempted swat :]

yeeeeaaaa white wolf nickname came back. sam’s “bwuh?” response to that made me giggle

sam just being casually cool as usual

SHHH GUYS THEY’RE COMING

[skyrim guard voice] “must’ve been my imagination” they really failed that spot check lol

alright get em lads! obtain hostage! ... that other truck should really be noticing them shouldn’t it

i immediately do not trust this girl but bucky switching off Business Mode to be polite to her is very nice and good

ok are these people ALL juiced on fascist serum? that’s a lot of juice?? WHERE DID THEY GET THE JUICE?? 🧃🧃🧃

NO REDWING!!!! REDWINDFKHNFGJHNFGJSDF AAAAAAAAAAA

redwing better be ok in the next ep.

john’s goofy grin was ok. not as good as steve’s tho. gotta say john has the “i used to play football in high school” look completely down pat. well done

bucky: [cattily hands the shield back]

JEEZ these fellas are made of iron

GO SAM! once again being casually cool

i just heard the shippers scream in delight at their roll in the goldenrods ahaha. honestly? this was probably the first hug bucky has had since steve ditched him. i don’t blame him for lingering a bit

lol do they have to just...traipse back through rural germany...

oh good their uber is here!

stop making fun of his PTSD symptom c’mon

sam is having none of this, clearly...

love how the last straw for bucky was hearing that hoskins has a dorky nickname. you’re one to talk, bucky

so, uh, supersoldiers...how's it hangin.

hmrhmhm if it were me, i would accept the homemade food politely, because if someone troubles themselves to MAKE food for me, i feel it would be rude to refuse, even if it were something i didn’t eat? i could give it to a family member or something instead? idk just seems rude for a guy giving them hospitality. hospitality is a near-universal virtue for a reason!

i feel like this villain group is really vague? i’m also waiting for HYDRA to be behind them all along

how this exchange went in my head bucky: “let’s do a crime...” sam, swatting him with a rolled-up newspaper: “no.”

sam being on the run with steve for two years...what did they actually do? did they hang out a lot? do some painting? fanfiction writers probably filled in that time already but i really wanna know

who is bucky’s mysterious acquaintance?!

sam is good with kids as usual...also that seems like a funny/sad dig at a lot of black heroes in comics having ‘black’ in front of their names. i don’t read a lot of comics but i sincerely hope they’re not still doing that

is this another amending? another name on the list? oh no...

jeez a whole lot happened in that scene :[ and a lot was implied! like, if the government had access to the serum in the 1950s, that creates some terrifying possibilities, especially if they were able to produce a great quantity. i hope isaiah is returned to eventually because his situation looked rough. he seemed pretty afraid of bucky but he stood his ground and didn’t sound afraid at all. his kid/grandkid/great-grandkid (idk he seemed really young) was very protective of him. it’s clear isaiah never told him about his run-in with the winter soldier but...it seems like he wasn’t totally surprised by isaiah’s outburst or super strength...aaa i’m dying to know more. pls marvel, go back and see them sometime

anyway yeah i can totally sympathize with why isaiah doesn’t want at all to tangle with whatever bucky has going on.

GO AWAY, COPS GO AWAY, COPS GO AWAY, COPS GO AWAY, COPS GO AWAY, COPS

[to the tune of “gidget goes to hell”] ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh bucky goes to jail

john what are you doing?? “ya bucky is mine now” no????

we now know the therapist’s name! dr. raynor! finally!

lol this is actually couples’ therapy? the shippers just popped in a shower of confetti hehe (but tbh couples’ therapy techniques work for any pair of people who have to be in close contact a lot, not just romantic couples!)

the way sam grabbed bucky’s chair and bucky’s like “whoa ok~” the number of fanfics arising from that interaction alone will be enormous mother of mercy

i want to hide under my blanket ashfgdfhg my face is pulled back into some horrible rictus grin aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

oh no. OH NO

IM GONNA CRY

the feelings...jsndfkj.....kbnvnnm...

sammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

😭😭😭😭😭😭 *dissolves into sadness forever*

hopefully this’ll be that trope where the two bickering parties say they will finish their current task and then never talk to the other again, but after all they go through, they decide to stick together :V please. my happiness depends on this

GO AWAY COPS oh it’s just john

GO AWAY JOHN I’M NOT SURE HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOU AND I’M VERY EMOTIONALLY WRECKED RIGHT NOW

i cannot help but like battlestar? idk?? he’s cool??? i feel like he and sam and bucky would get along like a house on fire?? if there weren’t all the *makes john walker-shaped gestures*???????? i can’t not think of battlestar galactica though

sam was way nicer about that mess than he needed to be! anyway they’re totally gonna fight aren’t they. maybe in episode 5 or 6. i think sam would win because he can fly. obviously that overrules everything else. like the fact that i still don’t know whether john is JUICED

so uhhh...HYDRA. are they gonna

THEY’RE GONNA GO SEE ZEMO. HE SAID IT. SAM SAID THE THING. SAM SAID THE THING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL

isn't this “lacrimosa”? that feels fitting

aaaaand there’s helmut!!!!! at last!!!!!!!!!! it’s been so long!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he’s stuck in what appears to be an ultra high security prison

i wonder what creepy/manipulative/douchebag stuff he’ll say! “ah, sam wilson. what is it they call you? the man-bird? and james barnes! what is it they call you? the war criminal?”

just realized i totally glazed over during the flag smasher escape scene i’m sorry guys you’re just really vague. got any pamphlets? literature? any theory i could read? i’m actually too stupid to read theory please don’t send me theory

and now to wait eternally for another week ugh. just drop an entire season so i can binge it!! netflix does this WHY CAN’T YOU