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hereticpriest · 1 year ago

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The Bath

MDNI

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Baron Helmut Zemo x reader

Warnings: Cockwarming, mentions of previous violence between the two before their relationship began (he's a villain, they're ex-SHIELD guys c'mon), reference to a break-in.

Note: Liebling = darling, liebchen = sweetheart, bärchen = cute bear.

There are no rose petals in your bath.

Early on, your love had tried his best to be romantic, creating a path with rose petals to a large claw-foot tub that was absolutely teeming with them. The water was lightly fragranced, and while it had been the perfect temperature, you were covered in petals afterwards, including in some places that petals truly did not belong. You hadn't complained - you'd never put your sweet Baron down for trying to do something romantic for you - but he had somehow known how much you disliked them.

No, today, your bath is fizzy and bubbly from bath bombs. The shimmery swirl of the water doesn't bother you in the same way as the petals, and steam gently drifts from the surface to show it's the perfect temperature. You sigh blissfully, letting your lover take your robe from you and press kisses along your shoulders while you kick your slippers off into the corner out of the way. Zemo hangs up your robe for you, then takes your hand to help you into the clawfoot tub, a smile overtaking his face as you sink into the water with a happy moan.

"Good?"

"Perfect." You correct him, "Or, near enough."

"I love you dearly, liebchen, but I do not enjoy boiling quite like you do." He retorts, bending to kiss your forehead, then leaning against the counter in his adorable little silk robe. You pout at him, and he pouts right back, mocking you playfully. Eventually, as the water cools to a normal, livable temperature, he approaches to nudge you forwards and slip in behind you. You're both clean - freshly showered, but needing some intimacy and relaxation after a long, long day. Once he's settled, he lifts you carefully, holding you steady above him as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, then pulls you down into his lap, impaling you upon him. You curl into Zemo's arms, leaning against his chest and letting your eyes close, satiated in your fullness. It's been a while since you've been able to do this. He's been gone for nearly two weeks on a mission he's been very hush-hush about, but he returned to you unharmed, and that's all you can ask for. The hours of running around town with him after picking him up at the airstrip at the crack of dawn because you couldn't help but want to be there with Oeznik when he landed had certainly taken it's toll on you.

"Will you read to me tonight?" You ask him, and he squeezes you closer, tracing his fingertip over one pert nipple, then cupping your breast in his hand.

"Have I ever said no?"

You smile.

"Shortly after we first met. It was very rude of you, bärchen."

Zemo rolls his eyes at you, but his smile is fond as he presses it to your temple.

"You were very rude, liebling. You punched me in the throat." He reminds you, and you grin to yourself, pressing your bottom back into his hips.

"You broke into my house - how was I to know you were with my friends? Anyways, you've long forgiven me. I hardly think you were even mad, my love, you were rock hard when you pinned me to the wall. In my own home. That you had just broken into." Your voice is playful, and Zemo groans against your shoulder, knowing he has lost. It had been rather rude of him.

"Little did I know that the little ex-SHIELD agent would bend over my counter for me the moment we were alone in Riga. Besides, Sam told me that they called you." His stubble rubs against your neck, and you sigh, letting him rock you ever so gently as you take comfort in his arms.

"Excuses, excuses."

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #female reader

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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 months ago

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The City Of Love - Helmut Zemo X Female Reader

Title: The City Of Love

Helmut Zemo X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's friend, the driver (Mentioned), and college people (peers/professors) (Mentioned)

WC: 3,059

Warnings: Modern AU, age gap very briefly hinted at (Reader's 23 - Helmut's 40), italics, love at first sight?, teasing, banter, flirting?, instant attraction, brief mention of long distance, brief suggestiveness, nicknames, brief mention of drugs (none used), ignoring Marvel plots, very very mini angst, and fluff

Out of all the things you wanted to do today, sitting through a seminar was not really one of them. You couldn’t really help it, however. It was Friday and it wasn’t like you could skip out on school. You could skip for the day, but then you’d be celebrating alone for the most part. It was your birthday, number twenty-three, and you were more or less so excited about it. You didn’t have any huge plans. That morning, you had planned to go to your favorite cafe, grab your favorite drink and maybe a scone… But, your alarm decided to ignore you and you woke up late, resulting in no special cafe drink and no birthday scone.

You weren’t too upset about it. However, that cafe was open between six in the morning and two in the afternoon. And, it was half past two. So all plans of going there after your seminar were out the door. So, you sat back in your seat, notebook open on the desk in front of you, purple gel-pen in hand. It was kind of hard to pay attention, as your teacher droned on and on. Normally, you could pay attention but your mind would occasionally drift to a certain someone.

You met him at a library in the middle of Paris, France. Your college had funded a trip for your French class during your second year. So, you and the other twenty-seven students got on a plane one day and set off to France for the next week where you and your peers could get the full French experience, whilst also putting your two-years of French knowledge to the test.

You were allowed a sum of cash - in euros - and you were sent off in small groups to explore Paris. There were rules, of course. Your college wasn’t going to let you just run off and start a new life in France, no. You were placed in groups, five or six people per group, and each given enough money to probably have one or two fun experiences a day; whether that was to go to a cafe, restaurant, store, museum, or otherwise.You were also supposed to check in with your professors and chaperones at a meeting point; the hotel you were all staying at. And, lastly, you had to stay in Paris, you couldn’t leave the city. It was an amazing experience. Never in your life did you think that you were going to ever see Paris.

~~~

With the money you all had been given, your group of five all agreed to go to a cafe, which was also a bookstore. Your favorite places all rolled into one. While your group had grabbed their drinks, bread, or little desserts, you went to the other side of the cafe; the bookstore. You mused through the aisles, fingers brushing along the spines of books, your eyes fluttering from title to title. You were so caught up in the books, that you really weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. You ended up bumping into someone.

Your apologies, sadly not in French, flew out of your lips, stuttering and a mess as you helped the stranger pick up their books that had fallen to the floor. It felt like a movie, some cliche rom-com that your roommate and best friend would’ve forced you to watch, the moment yours and the stranger’s hand met reaching out for the same book. You hand snapped to your chest, another apology - this time, in French - leaving you as your eyes met his.

Beautiful brown eyes met yours. For a moment, you were star-struck. Your mind going blank except for one question; were his eyes more of an auburn or chestnut? His eyes weren’t the only thing you thought was beautiful. Faint hint of stubble, dark blonde hair- no, it was more of just a light brown, but his short hair was neatly combed yet with a natural tousle. There was just something about him, something refined yet effortless, and the subtle trace of expensive cologne and his regal clothing. The well-fitted, dark wool coat with a high collar, the rich dark red turtleneck underneath, black slacks, and sleek leather gloves only confirmed your theory.

You were quick to look away, realizing a second too late that you had been staring. As you stood up, he followed, his movements unhurried, graceful even. You apologized again, but this time, he spoke in English - his voice smooth, accented - saying that there was no need to apologize, before asking if you were alright. You were immediately intrigued by his accent, a mix of German, and something else that you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. But you answered, a bit nervous, and definitely awkward and mighty embarrassed; you were indeed alright.

Time shifted, stretched, folded in on itself. You didn’t know how long you had been speaking to him, but one moment, you were apologizing again for bumping into him, and the next, names were exchanged with an ease that felt almost natural. Helmut Zemo. That was his name. There was something intoxicating about him - not just his words, but the way dark his eyes lingered, the slight tilt of his head as he listened, stray strands of brown grazing along his forehead. The way his lips quirked in the corners, subtle but knowing as you both spoke of your favorite French poets. The quiet pauses, the brush of his fingers against yours as he passed you a recommended book, lingering just long enough to make your breath catch and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. This wasn’t just any conversation, it felt like a dance. A dance that neither of you wanted to end.

It was difficult leaving the bookstore when it was nearly time to check in at the hotel with your group.You had expected that meeting Helmut was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, a fleeting moment never to be repeated. You wished you had more time. And it seemed that he did too. Just before you stepped out of the book aisle, apologizing that you had to go, his gloved hand found yours - warm despite the leather, firm yet hesitant. You barely had time to react before his voice cut through the air between you. “May I see you again?”

From that day until your last day in France, you met up at a small cafe close to your hotel. It was an easy place to meet up, since your group enjoyed their strawberry and blueberry crepes. So, every morning you would walk in and find him, a book in hand, and your favorite drink already ordered for you. You were crazy to leave without exchanging numbers. It was nice to be able to text him and call him, to hear his voice the following days after your trip.

Was it crazy to feel this way? To have such a connection, an attraction, so quickly? It had only been a week… Maybe you really were in a rom-com.

~~~

You fiddled with your locket between your fingers, a present from Helmut from his last trip over to see you. He said that he saw it in a store window somewhere in Spain, and immediately thought of you. You had to have it. Once he clasped it around your neck, you never took it off. You never thought that your college trip to France would lead you to meeting your boyfriend. Maybe the saying was true; Paris was the city of love.

Since your trip, Helmut would visit often. He would surprise you with little trips on college holiday breaks. Eating at rooftop restaurants in Spain, walking the sandy beaches of Australia, and watching the Northern Lights in Iceland; you traveled the world together. Aside from holidays, he bought a lavish vacation home for the both of you in your city, where the both of you stayed when he flew over. Helmut even said that you could fully move into the home, and so you did. It wasn’t too far from your college, and Helmut even hired you a personal driver, who would drive you to and from.

God, you loved him. You loved how he spoke to you, how he looked at you, how he held you, touched you, loved you. You loved his smile, and how his face would light up upon seeing you. You loved the way his arms would wrap around you tightly whenever you were reunited. And you loved the way he would kiss you, deeply and passionately. The way he would say your name left you breathless. And waking up beside him? A whole other level of feeling. Curled into him, your face tucked into the warmth of his neck, limbs tangled, skin touching. He smelled wonderful, not only of his cologne but of citrus, spice, leather, and his natural musk. He hold on you, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist, fingers feather-light along your spine. He reminded you of comfort, of safety, of love, and of home.

You missed him… Helmut was in Sokovia. He had called you the night before, apologizing that he couldn’t see you on the day of your birthday as he had planned. You didn’t mind, especially since he said that he would come over the following day as soon as he could. Soon, however, the constant flights back and forth weren’t going to be an issue for the both of you. Once you graduated, you were moving in with him in Sokovia.You just had a couple months left…

By the time your class was over for the day, you made your way to meet up with your best friend before grabbing a late lunch. Walking down the sidewalk between her building and your English building, you waved, your smile was big, matching hers.

“Hey, hun!” She exclaimed, pulling you into a hug, “Miss birthday girl!”

“Yeah,” You sighed happily, pulling back from the hug, “I’m just another year older, nothing too crazy.”

Your friend waved a dismissive hand in the air, “Spfft, nothing too crazy?” She repeated your words as if you saying them was ridiculous, looping her arm with yours as you both began walking, “You’re twenty-three! That’s a huge deal!”

You looked at her, giving her a knowing look, “What makes turning twenty-three a big deal?”

She pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowing, “Well, you can still drink and your brain is almost fully developed.” She answered as you both made it to the street corner, waiting for the pedestrian light to switch over, “And you’re two years away from being twenty-five, and that’s a great year.”

“Really?” You asked as you both began crossing, “How so?”

“Well,” She began, “My aunt told me a story about how she and my mom went out clubbing and got super high before they went stargazing on the roof of my mom’s camper van.”

You sputtered out a laugh, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, “So, you want me to go out clubbing, get high, and stargaze?” You sighed deeply, very amused, “You mom was crazy in the 70’s.”

“You’re telling me,” She huffed out an amused kind of laugh herself, “She was crazy! Did I tell you that one time she went to a concert and she-”

“Got high with the band backstage?” You finished for her, shaking your head, “Yeah, no, I don’t think that happened. But, yeah, you’ve told me.” Arriving at the small restaurant, you entered, being immediately greeted by the wonderful smell of food. Your stomach grumbled. “Come on, let’s eat. I am famished.”

“Let’s! My treat, birthday girl!” Your friend pulled you over to find an empty place to sit.

You and your friend sat and ate, laughing and having a good time. Reminiscing. Taking a sip from your drink, you listened to your friend’s story, something about a new movie that she saw in theaters and how the people sitting in front of her left half-way through the movie, even leaving their unopened candy - which, she, of course, took. Which then led into a conversation about the new thrift store that opened down the block that you were both interested in checking out sometime.

Then, suddenly, your senses were overtaken by the scent of cologne. The smell was so familiar, you knew who it reminded you of. Home. You could almost feel his fingers brushing through your hair, no, wait, no, that was real. Turning around in your chair, your smile instantly brightened.

"Helmut!" You exclaimed, your hand subconsciously reaching out for him, fingers grasping at his coat. "You're here! I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow."

"I finished earlier than I had previously anticipated," Helmut explained, his gloved hand reaching up to tilt your chin up slightly, and leaning down to press a kiss to your awaiting lips. "Happy birthday, my love." He whispered against your lips before pulling away.

You giggled softly, "Thank you." But, then remembering that your friend was with you, you turned back to her, giving her a bashful smile, "You remember Helmut, don't you?" You asked, and she nodded, a mischievous little grin on her face.

"Yes, I remember. Hello, Helmut." She greeted your boyfriend, who nodded in greeting back.

“Good to see you,” Helmut then looked back down at you, tilting his head to the side slightly, "Do you have any plans for today?"

You looked to your friend, only for her to shake her head and wave a dismissive hand in the air, "Go, hun, have some fun! We can go to that new Thai place and thrift store when you get back." She offered, and you nodded, standing from your chair, you walked over to the other side to hug her, while Helmut grabbed your bag from off the back of your chair.

"I'll text you when I get home," You said to her as you were pulling away from the hug.

"You better," She spoke, "And you better have fun, birthday girl."

You huffed, waving goodbye as Helmut led you out of the small restaurant, his hand on the small of your back. As you exited, the bell above the door ringing behind you, you looked up at him. "So," You began as he handed you your bag back, "What's the plan for today?"

Helmut smirked, his hand still on the small of your back as he opened the passenger seat of his car for you. "Oh, just a few things," He spoke as he shut the door, walking around the side to hop in as well, "Firstly, we're going to head home, so you can pack."

You raised your brows, a smile already forming on your lips, "Pack? Where are you taking me, honey?" You mused, only for the man to wave his pointer finger in the air as he began to drive.

"I will not reveal any surprises, my love. But, I assure you, you will enjoy it."

The ride home was soothing, the wind blowing through your hair, the radio on your favorite station, Helmut's hand resting on your thigh. Once you arrived home, he sent you off to pack. And so you did, strolling back to him with your suitcase packed for whatever adventure he had planned for you. Locking up the house, he then drove you to the airport, where you hopped on his private jet, and a couple of hours later you found yourself sitting on the terrace of Helmut's vacation home in Paris, overlooking the Eiffel Tower. You let out a deep, content sigh before taking a sip of the cherry blossom tea Helmut made for you, occasionally snacking upon the Turkish Delights before you as well. You were very thankful that tomorrow was the beginning of the weekend. Three beautiful days in Paris sounded wonderful. You missed the sights, the sounds, the smells…

Your hair was brushed aside, the feeling of warm lips pressing against your neck - mixing with the cool of the chain on your neck - causing you to hum. Helmut pressed another soft kiss against your throat, nuzzling his nose into your neck before releasing a content sigh.

Rising, he found his seat beside you, "What would you like to do first, my love?" He asked, taking a sip of his own tea, "We have some time to kill before dinner tonight. I got us reservations at Jules Verne."

You sighed again - warmth filling your heart - your smile widening at the thought of having dinner on the Eiffel Tower. You bit your bottom lip, thinking before saying, "Could we go to the Louvre?" You looked over at him with an hopeful expression, “I would love to see the Mona Lisa again.” You reached over, grabbing a Turkish Delight, plopping it into your mouth, “And see Psych and Cupid. That sculpture just feeds my soul.”

"Of course." He agreed with a smile, "Anything for you.We can leave whenever you wish."

Setting down your tea, you then stood, "Well, then I'm going to go get ready." You leaned over him, just as he did to you earlier in the day, "I love you, Hel," You muttered as you cupped his cheek, leaning in close enough to press your lips against his.

He hummed in response, tasting the flavor of rose from the Turkish Delights from your lips, one hand rising to grab the back of your thigh, lips brushing along yours; your love addicting. "I love you more, meine schatz." He muttered, his warm fingers caressing along your leg before you reluctantly slipped from his grasp.

You wanted to stay, forever in his grasp, but if you didn’t go to get ready, you both would never leave. Backing up, you bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the almost giddy smile crawling on your kiss-plump lips, eyes fully focusing on his before you turned around and left the room; your cheeks burning.

Helmut watched you go, his eyes following you until you disappeared from sight. Fully making sure that you were gone, he waited a moment, before sticking his hand into his slacks’ pocket. He couldn't stop the adoring smile from growing on his face as he pulled out a small red, velvet box. As he opened it, his smile softened, his dark eyes looking over his gift to you, before he carefully shut it, and placed it back into his pocket.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

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biting-miguel-ohara · 7 months ago

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Orgasm Denial with Baron Zemo

A/N: Y’all, is it gay to fall for your one night stand? Lol. Anyway, here’s Kinktober fic #5

Also, schatz means treasure and lieber means darling in German, I believe. (Don’t come at me for them please. I did a basic internet search for masculine petnames in German)

Written for an ftm!Reader

Link to masterlist here

CW: restraints; explicit sexual content; smut; Reader propositions Zemo; there’s a little bit of plot to this one; Reader is called schatz, lieber, and good boy; German petnames; kissing; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Reader is implied to be post-op, but could be read as just being scarred; nudity; implied dysphoria/self-image issues (Reader just started meeting his own gaze in the mirror); Zemo has a bit of a possession kink if you sorta squint; Reader is a sub; tasting arousal; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; teasing; begging; fingering; orgasm denial/ruined orgasms; unprotected penetrative sex; lovemaking; there’s a lot of intimacy in this one, just fyi; cum eating; aftercare; possible emotional manipulation from Zemo (?)

1231 words

You whimper as Zemo tightens your restraints, keeping your hands firmly but not roughly tied to the bed frame. You’re his plaything tonight. His to mess with as he pleases.

You weren’t quite expecting this when you propositioned him at the bar, but you’re not complaining. He’s hot. Dressed in a smooth knit sweater and expensive pants, with that fucking fur trim coat that first caught your eye still on him.

You’d gotten his name on the taxi ride over, breathed between hungry kisses and groping hands. Zemo. Helmut.

“You look divine, schatz,” he purrs, eyes raking over your form. You’re naked, slick already pooling on the bedsheets below you. It feels exposing, to be naked in such a way. Your scars on display. Your body so shamelessly revealed.

You only recently started meeting your gaze in the mirror. And now you’re fully at the mercy of a man you’ve just met.

But god, if it doesn’t feel thrilling.

There’s something about him you just trust. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you. Or the smooth lilt of his voice. Something about him promises a better time than you’ve ever been able to have before.

You have the distinct feeling you’re going to be remembering this night for a while.

He settles next to you, taking the time to roll up his sleeves. It makes you ache with excitement.

“What are you going to do?” You can’t keep the tremble of excitement from your voice.

He smirks. Strokes a hand along your thigh, up closer to your dripping hole. “I’m going to ruin you, lieber. Every man you have after this will only remind you of me. Every time you play with this handsome little hole of yours, you’re going to think of me.”

You shiver with anticipation. There’s more than a promise in his voice. It sets your nerves on fire, eagerness coursing through you.

“Yes, sir,” you whisper. It just feels right to say. The submission already coming easily, and he hasn’t even started yet.

“Good boy.”

Those two words set your body afire. Somehow, coming from him, it’s hotter than ever before.

With a chuckle at your reaction, Zemo nudges your legs open. He swipes a couple fingers against you, gathering your slick. He pops them into his mouth, sucking your wetness from them with a satisfied hum. “You taste delicious, schatz. Even better than I expected.”

You whimper, dick throbbing at the sight. Your hole clenches around nothing, more slick spilling out of you. He’s so hot. Looking so composed and thoughtful. Like he’s tasting expensive chocolate instead of your wetness.

“Please, sir,” you whine. You need his fingers in you. “Please touch me.”

He smirks and teases his fingertips against your hole. Just barely giving you any pressure at all. Just the bare tips dipping inside. It’s torture.

You moan and squirm, desperately trying to shift down to push his fingers deeper in. But your restraints keep you in place. Stopping you from doing what you want.

“Is something the matter?” He asks, eyes glinting smugly. “Use your words if you want something, lieber.”

“Please!” It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he can make you beg, but you’re too needy to care. “Please, please, I need your fingers!”

“Where do you want them? Here?” He presses his thumb to your dick, circling it with a smirk. “Or here?”

With one swift press, he slides two of his fingers inside you. You whimper, arching your hips up. “Yes, yes! Oh, god!”

He curls his fingers, rubbing them against your sweet spot. You moan, squirming and whining with pleasure. His fingers feel so long inside you, reaching that spot of bliss you can’t quite reach yourself.

He starts fucking you with his hand. The squelching sound from your slick is obscene. You’re so wet, soaking his hand and fingers.

Your orgasm builds, growing and growing and growing until—

Just as you’re about to reach your peak, he pulls his hand away. Leaving you to flounder and gasp in shock. You’ve never had a partner just… deny you like that.

Zemo’s eyes gleam with satisfaction. Watching as your expression goes from shock to confusion.

“What…?”

“Oh, schatz,” he purrs. “You didn’t think I’d make it that easy? The place you’re cumming is around my cock, do you understand?”

Your eyes prickle a little but you nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” He swipes his thumb against your dick and it starts all over again.

He brings you to the edge of orgasm once more before you break and start crying. Twice more before you start pleading for release.

It’s only once you start begging shamelessly that he relents.

He undresses slowly, taking his time as if you’re not a whimpering mess on the bed. His sheets are absolutely ruined by now, soaked through with your slick.

The moment he lines himself up and the tip of his dick nudges against your hole, you know you’re a goner. Just the barest bit of pressure and you’re clenching like a vise.

You need to cum so bad. The feeling of his dick sliding into you, stretching out your walls and bumping against your sweet spot, only makes the need worse.

You’d be drooling if he didn’t lean down to kiss you. Tasting your lips with a softness and a hunger that ignites your insides yet again.

He thrusts into you, slow and even. Still taking his time. But his thrusts are deep and his cock stretches you so nicely. You can’t even muster up a single thought to be mad.

He fucks you like he loves you. Mouthing kisses along your jawline, murmuring filthy praises into your ear.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, building low and slow and hot until it’s crackling along your body. Making you arch your back and squeeze him like a vice.

You’re so on edge from your lost orgasms that it burns your body. Scalds your brain with pleasure, melting you to mush. You can’t even make a sound. All that comes out is a broken sob of his name.

He kisses you as he cums, filling your body with a heat that feels so wrong and so right at the same time. It makes your brain buzz with delight even as the sheer intimacy of it makes your skin prickle.

He pulls out and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You were amazing, lieber. So perfect for me.”

You just whine softly in response. You can feel his cum dripping out of your hole. He reaches down, scooping it out of you and lifting it to your lips. You lap it up, too fucked out to care about the bitter taste.

He removes your restraints, massaging your wrists and arms as he does so. It feels oddly tender. He presses a kiss to your palms, before getting up to grab a cloth.

You just lay there, still a little dazed. Something prickles in your chest. Maybe it’s the way he’s showering you with affection. Maybe it’s the way he’s so diligently caring for you.

Either way, it sets off a longing in your body. A quiet yearning for more than just a one night stand. Part of you wonders if that was his intent all along.

At least one thing you know for sure. You really aren’t going to forget him any time soon.

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