#c;zemo

[bedlamsbard]

see the thing about the SHIELDRA AU is that it's a Captain America story, which means it's fundamentally about how Steve's life is a nightmare but at least he's getting laid, while at the same time Natasha has an identity crisis and I do massive amounts of background worldbuilding.

[ofcrimsonenchantresses]

“Strange place to fall asleep.”

“It’s good for the back, I have an injury from New York.” Wanda told him without opening her eyes as she lay on the rug in the Latvian townhouse. Now that Bucky and Sam had dragged her on this stupid adventure all across Asia and Europe, she was very jet lagged. She still thought this whole plan was stupid but she wasn’t about to let the boys wander off and get in trouble.

She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I’ve slept on worse than this.” She added, her fingers brushing through the rug. It probably cost more than the rent on her first apartment with Pietro, if it could be called that.

[legends-and-savages]

@illbringthechaosmagic from here

Zemo looked at her. "I think they were very different reasons." He was almost sure that Wanda's was an accident, and his was certainly on purpose. "It was more about the Avengers, but no I am not." He said. "But you know how people feel when you attack their icons."

[squids-comics]

Hydra's a really poorly run organization. The punishment for failing to complete a mission is to stick you on a swinging platform five feet in the air. They then find the person who's next in line for your job, give them a gun, and put them on a similar platform across from yours. Then you fight to the death. If they kill you (with the gun), they get your job. If you kill them (with your trickery), you get to keep your job.

That's for failing one mission. I know the saying is "cut off one head and two more take their place" but that's not a good excuse to cut your own heads off.

[whitesuited]

me sitting down to start some of these scar memes in my inbox by pulling out my note on sharon's laundry list of scars, remembering she's got one from the time zemo slashed tf out of her with a sword ...

and she still went on to high - kick him in the head right after he did

[bcron]

[ofsokovianbaronesses]

“< He’s not a science experiment anymore, Helmut, let the man be. Even if he is pretending, let him pretend in peace. >” Heike responded in a tone that tried to be light and teasing but probably betrayed an anxiety that her husband was fucking with a dangerous and damaged man for kicks. Not to mention it had been so long since she’d spoken in their native tongue, she found it harder to regulate her tone than in her polished English.

She listened to him explain about Walker. “< Yes; but a child in big shoes may trip over and cause catastrophe. >” She reminded. In her mind’s eye, she could remember a time that Karl had done such a thing, bemused by being in his father’s dress shoes that he’d tripped and hit his head on the dresser. It hadn’t been more than a bump but the tantrum had lasted an age.

Heike looked at the necklace for a few long moments before looking at her husband. She just nodded and moved to put the necklace on, untangling it with her hair and tucking it under her blouse. Her hands shook slightly when she returned to her cup of tea, the gesture impacting her on some unknown level.

❛ I can feel your heart beating. ❜

YELLOWJACKETS SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

That was not surprising to hear when her husband had a hand on her chest, directly over her heart. She held her own hand over his, the metal of her wedding ring touching the metal of his own. She wondered if he could tell how hard and fast her heart was beating, finally awakening from a long slumber of loneliness and grief. "Believe that this is real, yet?" She asked softly.

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 17

Prompt: Bewitched

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

tags/warnings: Love at first sight, mutual pining, confessions, kiss, FLUFF

Although Reader's gender is not specified the translations below (specifically Vrăjitore) are feminine!

Summary: Bucky and Sam come your apartment for a few days to hide out and a certain Sokovian Baron is enamoured by you.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I've said it before and I'll say it again - I'm a hopeless romantic. - Love, Grem x A/N 2: I loved this so much that I created a follow up (here) and decided to make this a mini-series which you can find here. - Love, Grem x Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

Translations:

Draga - dear

Vrăjitore - Enchantress/witch (in the context below - it's enchantress)

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Zemo hadn’t known what to expect when the door to your apartment opened but it certainly wasn’t instantaneous infatuation. You were a friend of Sam and Bucky’s and somehow, somehow, got roped into helping them hide him. Despite the initial feelings of scepticism and meticulously planning his escape from the dingy apartment building, when you opened the door it all changed.

You were stood in your pajamas, rubbing your eyes, speaking in a soft sleepy voice that alluded to you either just about ready to fall asleep or you had just woken up. Zemo was staring and he knew it. Even though you hadn’t looked at him yet, you were the picture of perfection with your slightly tousled hair and the disgruntled expression you were giving Sam as he explained what was going on. When your e/c eyes finally flickered over to him, finally meeting his eyes, he felt his breathing stop.

“You better come in,” you sighed, stepping aside and allowing them inside your small apartment.

You immediately headed to the small kitchen-cum-living room, turning on your kettle and grabbing mugs.

“Tea? Coffee? Food?” You fire off questions in rapid succession but Sam nor James pay attention to you. They’d began a hushed conversation about ideas and plans in your living room. Zemo looked over to you and was surprised to see you were looking directly at him. He felt like a deer in headlights. He was at a loss for words. For once.

You raised an eyebrow at him curiously. “You... want anything?”

Zemo clears his throat and stiffly approaches the counter top that seperates the two of you. “Tea will do. Thank you.”

“I have earl grey and English breakfast,” You say, holding up the two boxes. “What would you prefer?”

Zemo blinks, his throat dry. “Earl grey, please.”

“Sugar and milk?”

Zemo only nods and watches as you turn away to prepare the tea. Surely, you knew he was dangerous? Surely, you had seen the news from years before? Surely, you knew you shouldn’t turn your back to him?

But you had. And Zemo was helplessly lost in you whilst the hushed conversation of Bucky and Sam drifted around the apartment. He couldn’t remember when he had last felt this way. It had been a long time, that’s for sure.

After five minutes you turn around with two mugs in your hand and slide one to Zemo. He carefully lifts the mug to his mouth and sips, relishing the sleepy warmth of the lavender drink. His tongue darts across his lips, something else is in the drink, making it ever so slightly sweeter. You register his expression and offer him a small, sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I think I’ve given you mine. I always add a dash of vanilla syrup.”

Vanilla. Zemo’s eyes widen but he smiles and nods. “An excellent combination.”

Your smile brightens. Zemo thinks his knees might give out; that smile lights up your entire living room and you’re not even trying. He should be trying to manipulate you, make you uncomfortable; not nervously running sweaty palms on his slacks or being tongue tied. And you should be cold and harsh, threatening to maim him like Bucky or Sharon not warm, friendly and inviting.

“Have you ever tried an Edinburgh Mist?” You ask, eyes brightening with each passing second. Zemo briefly wonders if it's because your friends, the ones who have barely spoken with you, the ones who have landed a fugitive terrorist into your hands, have never bothered to indulge in the beauty that was you. He shakes his head gently, watching you speak.

“It’s like the cocktail London Fog but an actual hot drink.” You explain. “it’s earl grey with vanilla, with foamed milk and dusted with cinnamon. I loved it so much I had to start making it at home.”

Zemo finds himself smiling  over the rim of his mug at you. He hums in response, nodding a little before adding, “I may have to trouble you for one when you have the chance.”

You scoff a little, suppressing what looks to be a blush and Zemo’s heart does a flip. Unfortunately, you’re both torn away by Sam and Bucky wanting to talk strategy.

The next few days feel like a dream.

Zemo practically follows you around like a love sick puppy, offering to help with everything he can. Laundry. Cooking. Cleaning. Each time you dismiss him, citing that he is a guest in your home and will be treated as such. Your mother didn’t raise you to be unwelcoming.

When it’s clear he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, you roll your eyes and pretend you’re so hard done by with the lack of help you recieve from Bucky and Sam, that you’ll gladly take Zemo’s company instead. Which he humbly (albeit very enthusiastically) accepts.

As you do chores, you chat about anything and everything. His favourite books, your favourite shows, his music taste, your favourite foods. Whilst you cook he watches eagerly, asking inquisitive questions and occasionally teasing gently to make you laugh. Part of your brain believes it to be a ploy, as does Sam and Bucky. Some grand manipulation that they had warned you he was capable of. But somehow you doubted it. There was something about how he made you laugh, how he always acted the gentleman and offered his help, something about the softness in his eyes that you knew he meant every word he spoke and action he did.

Perhaps that was what caused the argument between you and Sam.

“He’s a terrorist,” Sam snapped at you on the fifth day. Bucky was out and Zemo was in the shower, making it an opportune time to discuss the behaviour Sam had witnessed over the last few days. “And a master manipulator. You should not trust him.”

“God forbid men have hobbies.” You quip. Then seeing Sam's frown you sigh.

"On a technicality, you are too." You point out, scrubbing at a dish violently. Anger had bubbled inside you at the subtle accusation that you were falling for a manipulation, especially when said terror had been placed in your lap. “You brought him here as well.” You huff with agitation.

It was Sam’s turn to huff. “You don’t get it. He’s dangerous.”

You slam the scourer down and glare at Sam. “No, you’re not getting it. You brought him here. Hell, yesterday you and Bucky went out and left me with him for hours.”

Sam opens his mouth and closes it again, at a loss for words. He knows he can’t argue against that and he knows damn well better than to try.

“Just... be careful. Okay?” He grumbles, heading to the spare room. “That’s all I ask.”

Once the door is closed you roll your eyes and turn back to the sink, haughtily mimicking Sam’s words. You startle when you hear Zemo chuckle from behind you.

“Apologies,” He murmurs, looking over  at you with a smug smile. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Whether or not it was his intention, you know that he isn’t sorry about it at all and it makes you smirk back. As with everything the last few days, you can’t seem to find yourself to be genuinely upset with him.

“It’s alright,” you sigh, drying your hands. “Tea?”

“Please, dragă.”  

You blush at the use of the nickname, but turn away quickly. This was another ritual that had formed in the last few days, and you would be lying if you didn’t enjoy the sweet nickname he’d given you and the way his honeyed eyes followed your movements. You didn’t want to tell him you knew the meaning. That you’d briefly dabbled in learning Sokovian. Something about him using his native tongue to compliment you, believing you had no idea what he was saying as  he looked  at you,  made your heart beat faster and your fondness for him grow. Again, this only made arguments of him manipulating you weaker; why say things to you that you couldn’t understand? Quick compliments or praise in a foreign language he thought only he could speak, muttered under his breath that made your resolve crumble apart like a cookie dipped in hot  tea. You couldn’t deny that he had charm but something else drew you to him. It was like you were under a spell and the thought that he may have to leave soon was too much to bare.

“You know,” Zemo started, voice quiet. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the countertop. “I’ve noticed that they don’t appreciate you, dragă.”

You turn, eyebrows high, mid-stir of the teas. “What?”

Zemo’s eyes drop to his hands. “Perhaps I am out of line,” he says carefully. “But you are correct in that all of us being here was sprang on you. Yet you welcomed us, even me, into your home without hesitation. You have cooked meals, offered your shower, home and did laundry... and only once or twice I have heard a thank you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes with his. His expression is soft, almost apologetic. “So, thank you, dragă.”

You blink at him, slightly shocked. So, he’d overheard your argument with Sam. He could’ve taken a different route; planting seeds of doubt about your friendship with the heroes, allowing tendrils of resentment to grow and blossom into anger. However, he hadn’t. Zemo had only pointed out the truth of the current situation; you had accepted the bizarre situation to help your friends and hopefully the betterment of the world without question and without thanks. Your mouth opened to defend Sam and Bucky, but your mind faltered trying to find an example from the last few days.

In fact, Bucky had grumbled his thanks of a coffee once and Sam for his food once. Zemo had been trying to help you for the past five days and somehow always managed to thank you and compliment you. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you snapped your mouth closed. You shrug half heartedly and remove the teabags.

“Thank you.” You murmur and then realise it sounds like a very stupid thing to say back. “For saying thank you? Sorry. Um.”

You turn back, handing him his tea but not meeting his gaze. You’d already learned to make it how he liked. That was probably not a good sign. You clear your throat.

“I appreciate it.”

There’s a beat of silence and you look back at him. He smiles. You smile back.

Your heart beats a little faster than before and you shift on your feet. You’re being drawn in again.

“Anytime.” Zemo bows his head to you, still smiling, his tone utterly sincere; like he would never tire of thanking you. His gaze meets yours again and he exhales gently. “You... are something else. Do you know that?”

You tilt your head at him, smile widening to a lopsided grin. “No? How do you mean?”

Zemo huffs through his nose, chuckling slightly. “You have bewitched me, dragă. From the moment I saw you.” He takes a sip from his mug watching you with a mesmerised expression. In a low rumbling voice he adds, “Vrăjitore.”

Your breathing stalls for a moment. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like how Zemo is looking at you; like you’re almost too good to be true. Your stomach twists into knots and your heart and mind race to try to come up with a quip or statement as equally romantic and poetic as he’d uttered but you can’t.

When you don’t respond, Zemo steps away, looking at the floor. “Forgive me. I’ve said too much.”

“No!” you blurt suddenly, and cover your hand with your mouth. You cringe slightly and smile sheepishly at Zemo, whose tilting his head curiously at you now. “I thought it was just me.” You say lamely.

Zemo’s eyes widen and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth but he says nothing as you rake a nervous hand through your hair.

“So....” You start awkwardly, wetting your lips and dropping your hand from your nape limply.

“So.” Zemo repeats back to you, his eyes sparkling. You can feel your heart thunder at the sight and you open your mouth to continue  but Sam erupts into the room.

“We need to go,” He says hurriedly to Zemo, throwing on his jacket. “Bucky and Sharon have ran into some trouble.”  

Zemo nods, setting his mug down and striding to the coat rack for his purple fur coat. Sam shoots you an apologetic glance when you ask if they’d be back.

“We may have to find another safe house. We’ve stayed here for too long, you might get caught being with us.” He shrugs. “But thanks for everything. I owe you one.” Sam grins over at you cheekily and adds, “and so does Bucky.”

“As do I.” Zemo adds, smiling softly over at you as he straightens the  collar of his coat. Sam looks like he’s about to shush Zemo when his phone rings. Sam’s expression turns serious and he stalks for the front door muttering instructions to either Bucky or Sharon.  He points at Zemo before he opens it. “Parking garage in five minutes. Make sure you’re not followed.”

The door closes behind Sam before  he sees Zemo nod and make his way back over to you.

Zemo stands before you, looking down at you with the same wondrous expression he had before. He’s close but not too close; a polite distance even after  everything tonight.

“So....” You start again, smiling wryly at him. “I guess this is goodbye?”

“For now, vrăjatore.” Zemo says with a gentle smile. A gloved hand reaches up hesitantly to cup your cheek. You can feel the heat of his palm through the leather, and you lean into it; searching for his warmth. Your eyes flutter ever so slightly and you heave a sigh. Just your luck.

“I’ll find you once the dust settles.”

You raide an eyebrow at him and chuckle. “And I’ll be waiting.”

Your own hand encompasses his on your cheek and it feels like an eternity passes as you both stand in silence gazing at eachother before Zemo leans down and places a chaste, tender kiss to your lips. Your heart stutters and you move to follow his lips as he pulls back, making him chuckle.

“I’ll find you,” he repeats, firmer this time. “And then you may kiss me for as long as you wish. Until then, duty calls.”

He grins at you again, adoring the flushed expression you’re wearing, but pulls further away from you. Your arm stretches out, still holding his hand and with one last, small squeeze you release him; watching him stride out of the front door and follow Sam. The silence in your apartment is palpable, and when you remember to draw a breath, the air is stale and dry. You sigh to yourself and finish your tea while replaying the events of the last hour.

 You hadn’t seen Zemo in two months.

That hadn’t meant his presence was missing.

The mission had finished a month ago, however, Zemo was still currently on the run. Bucky and Sam had attempted to find him but from what they had told you, they had assumed he was long gone in some faraway island, living it up. But you had known better.

Lavish gifts from expensive chocolates to tea had appeared at your apartment. The latest was the newest, beautiful bouquet that you had centred perfectly on your coffee table, somewhere you could look upon it everyday, and a pack of cherry blossom tea. You took photos of all of your gifts and added little notes of them into your phone – as you had no way of contacting the Baron, you ensured you could thank him for each and every gift he’d bought for you when you saw him in person. Bouquets came every ten days like clockwork – as soon as one bouquet wilted, the next would appear to take its place. The gifts would be every two weeks. Maybe, you joked with yourself, so it didn’t seem like it was excessive to send two gifts every week.

The only indication that it was Zemo sending you these items was because each gift came with a small 6-by-4 card with one word written in plum-purple cursive.

Vrăjitore.

[annikityk]

I present to you: gay people flirting by pointing a gun at each other

Exhibit a: Charles and Erik

Exhibit b: Bucky and Zemo

Exhibit c: Will and Hannibal

Exhibit d: Sherlock and Moriarty

And last but not least: Deadpool and Wolverine

[mypoisonedvine]

you know your last zemo piece RUINED me I think about it at least once a day 😭 what about zemo/reader + 41? 👀 if you feel like it of course! I would read even your grocery list probably

okay well then eggs, milk, greek yogurt--

just kidding c: (not kidding that i need to buy greek yogurt tho. i ran out the other day)

41: "don't do that. don't act like you don't feel this too."

warnings: smut (18+ only, ever so slightly dubcon because of all of the denial?), fingering and overstimulation, glove kink, angst, enemies to lovers, descriptions of injuries and violence, reader is very generally implied to be an avenger?

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"What are you doing here?" you asked sharply, pretending to be focused on your book even though your heart had been beating too fast to let you read another word as soon as he stepped into your room.

"I just wanted to speak with you," he said. You knit your brows together, because obviously you just want to talk, what the hell else would we be doing in here alone? but you didn't say anything. "About what happened today--"

"It doesn't mean anything," you insisted, rather dramatically flipping the page of your book. "You're an asset to the mission, my job is to keep the mission on track. That's it."

He didn't react, really. "I... never said it meant anything," he explained, "I simply wanted to thank you."

You cursed yourself internally, staring blankly forward at your book, trying so hard to ignore his dark form in your peripheral. Did he have to keep staring at you like that?

"So, thank you," he said.

"That's not necessary," you insisted, "I would've done it for anyone."

"You'd take a bullet for anyone?" he pressed.

You closed your book in frustration, finally looking back at him; you wished you hadn't. You couldn't even begin to react to everything you saw on his face, the way he was looking back at you... you stopped yourself before you even thought about trying to describe what emotion that could be. It took you a moment to even remember what you were going to say: "I didn't take a bullet," you corrected him, standing up off the bed, "I had Kevlar on. I just blocked it."

"Yes, Kevlar-- not magic," he clarified. "It must have still injured you."

You shrugged. "I'll live."

"May I see?" he asked softly, stepping forward until he was uncomfortably close to you, and you nodded slightly. You couldn't look at him as his gloved hand slowly pulled up the bottom of your tank top, until the massive bruise on your stomach was revealed. "Christ..." he whispered under his breath.

You shoved the fabric back down and wiped under your nose, trying to act normal and stern again.

"I didn't know you were wearing a vest," he explained. "The feeling that went through me when I thought you were really hit-- that you might..."

He trailed off, but you nodded, knowing what he meant.

"I haven't felt that feeling in a long time," he continued soberly, his gaze a little darker. "I never wanted to feel that again."

"Well, I guess I'm sorry if I... distressed you," you mumbled.

"Surely you know I'm not here asking for an apology," he scoffed.

"Then what do you want from me?!" you snapped.

"Don't ask me a question you don't want me to answer," he warned, and your heart jumped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you mumbled, crossing your arms tightly and looking away.

He didn't answer, just stepped closer to you-- you wanted to step back, but the bed was in your way. Damn these insanely tiny rooms...

You looked back at him, trying to keep a straight face, hoping he couldn't hear your racing pulse somehow.

"Ask me again what I want from you," he ordered darkly, "if you really want to know."

You stammered a bit but eventually choked it out, almost a whisper: "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to promise you'll never do that again."

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't that. "What?"

"Never put yourself in harm's way like that again," he demanded, "I can't take it-- if you were really hurt, or even killed--"

"It's my job," you reminded him. "If my orders put me in harm's way, that's where I go. And my orders come from Bucky, not you."

"James doesn't care about you," he interjected sharply, and your eyes went wide. "And you don't care about James-- not in that way, at least."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you blurted out, not sure what else you were supposed to say to that.

"Don't do that," he pleaded lowly, shaking his head. "Don't pretend that you don't feel this, too."

You tried to step away but he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you back into him-- closer than ever; his other hand came up to hold your face, a gloved thumb tracing over your cheek as you looked back at him.

"I can't watch you get hurt again," he breathed, "least of all for me. Just let me protect you."

"I don't need your protection," you assured, "I can fend for myself."

"But do you want to?"

When your mouth opened with a little gasp of denial, he took the opportunity to kiss you-- hard and passionate, pulling your body close to his.

You put your hands on his chest like you were going to push him away, but you found yourself melting into it instead, and your fingers weakly clutched at the fur lapel of his coat.

"Fuck," you mumbled against his lips, kissing him back with more intensity than either of you expected. Weeks of tension finally broke as you clawed at each other, falling onto the bed and struggling with a mess of bulky clothes.

His kiss moved to your neck, his teeth digging into your skin until you whined. "Would it be wrong of me," he wondered, "to be responsible for another mark on you?"

"Shut up," you hissed, 'cause how the fuck could he be all poetic and shit right now? You could barely even think straight-- clearly you weren't thinking straight, because you were in bed under Zemo of all people. "I can't fucking stand you sometimes."

"I know," he mumbled against your skin, his hands moving down your waist until he could start opening your belt.

"But I wanted you so fucking bad..."

"I know."

He slipped his hand into your pants, cupping your sex for just a moment, before roughly shoving two fingers inside you-- with his fucking leather glove still on. You moaned low and loud, tossing your head back as he stretched you on those fingers, the intrusion thick and sudden and making you insanely desperate.

Your back arched as he thrusted those fingers inside you, your legs spreading naturally as your body craved more. He pulled away from your neck to stare down at your face, mesmerized by the way you responded to him.

"O-oh my god," you gasped, "fuck--"

"Right there?" he assumed as he curled his fingers against your spot, making you shudder and hold tight onto his arm.

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered.

"Quiet, draga," he cooed, "James is only one room away--"

"Fuck, j-just fuck me," you begged, "I need you-- just fuck me, please."

"No," he denied flatly, though it clearly pained him to say it. "One of us has to stay in control."

You whined in frustration, amazed at how much he could say in so few words. I'm in control right now. I wouldn't be able to control myself if I was inside you. I wouldn't hold back, and everyone would hear us. You couldn't pick which underlying meaning was the one that made you that much more wet all of a sudden.

He purred through a smile as he rubbed harder against the spot inside you, moving his covered thumb to press to your clit as well. "I can feel how badly you need this-- it must have been so long since anyone pleasured you, hm? And you must have known I could take care of you."

Your legs were shaking already, your hand reaching up to hold onto his shoulder, then weaving into his hair. You tried to pull him down for a kiss, but when his face came close to yours, he stopped and stared right into your eyes-- and his other hand grabbed yours and pinned it down roughly beside your head. You bit your lip, hating how much you loved the helplessness you felt right then.

"I just need you to come for me now," he explained with a growl. "I need to watch you give into it."

"I-I'm close," you nodded, and he smiled again.

"I know," he said, making you feel a little stupid for even saying it. "Show me. I want to see what it looks like when you let go."

With your one free hand holding tightly onto the sheets, your hips started to rock up into his touch-- or maybe trying to get away from it, the feeling was so intense. Either way he had no trouble keeping you where he wanted you, shoving his fingers deep until your eyes rolled back. You knew you were saying his name, you heard it echoing around the walls, but you refused to believe that it was really you begging for him like that. You would've given him anything he wanted right then, just to get through that feeling and let ecstasy wash over you: thankfully, all he wanted was exactly that.

It was actually quiet at first, you were holding your breath without really meaning to; only when you just barely started to come down from the high did you make a sound again, a moan going out along with a big exhale of everything you'd been holding in.

Except the feeling didn't stop, because he didn't. Actually, he started going even harder.

Your eyes shot open and your body rocked. "F-fuck, fuck!" you yelped, both your hands tightening into fists before the unrestrained one grabbed at his wrist to try to slow him down-- which obviously didn't work.

He was biting his lip and flaring his nostrils from the force of it, staring down at you with fire in his eyes as he kept going.

"Oh my god," you sobbed, "I-I can't-- fuck, I-- oh!"

You wouldn't really call it a scream... he would, but you wouldn't. You might have said it was more like a high-pitched moan or maybe just a loud whine, but really, to anyone else who heard it (which may not have just been Zemo) it was definitely a scream. A scream of overwhelming, painfully-perfect pleasure. And only when your whole body was a shaking, useless mess did he stop moving his fingers inside you and gently pull them out.

You were so exhausted, going limp against the mattress and fighting to blink your eyes open, that you didn't even really notice him bringing his soaked glove to his mouth and getting a taste of you, humming contentedly.

It was only when he let go of your wrist and stopped hovering over you, sitting on the bed with a sigh, that you really noticed him again and (mostly) came back to reality.

His hair was messed up, and his face was flushed-- and you'd tugged his shirt to the side and exposed more of his chest. Only now did he look even a quarter as affected by this as you were. "There will be a time and place for more, draga," he promised you with a sigh, "soon."

"When?" you asked, and he smiled a bit deviously at you before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and kissing you again-- sweeter, slower, but with a hint of dominance as he gently bit on your bottom lip.

"Whenever my patience runs out," he answered with a grin.

[ofsokovianbaronesses]

Heike watched as he watched the footage. This is how she'd learnt about the extent of the attack herself, reading in newspapers and watching on screens since she'd been injured during the attack itself. It felt unreal to watch, even now with the new bar for terror that had been introduced to this world.

"That makes two of us." She told him as she tapped her nail against the table. She really didn't know what to think of any of this. None of it made any sense as a strategy to interrogate or weaken either of them, they'd obviously be suspicious of a version of their spouse that had different stories about their life together.

"Either way, there are people here in Madripoor who will not care that you're from 2011 or that my husband is in Germany, they want you dead." She explained to him firmly. "You can't just be wandering around the city." She told him.

Mistimed & Misplaced || @ofsokovianbaronesses

Helmut didn't remember falling asleep, but waking up was a nightmare.

It took him almost ten minutes to figure out where he was - though, it had been almost five years since he'd last been to Madripoor, so it was the mix of languages more than anything else that tipped him off as to where he was. He didn't remember everything being quite so... neon.

Memories were missing; that was the only logical conclusion he could come to. He didn't remember getting here. He hadn't even changed out of his uniform, clearly. The last thing he remembered...

... a forest. A strange flash of light.

Absolutely nothing helpful, clearly, and his head hurt too much to properly make sense of the situation immediately. What he knew was that he needed to reach out to a contact, find a place to lay low until he could get back home.

He made his way to a sideroad, and then into a small park where he pulled out his phone, only to find it 'not in service'. That was less than helpful. He didn't even know where he was going to find a payphone. A hotel would be the better option, and using a phone there.

With a sigh of frustration, he made his way back out to the main road again to get his bearings, before starting on the steady walk towards where he last recalled there being a hotel, doing his best to ignore the strange looks he was getting for his attire. At least it was Madripoor and no one was giving him a second look for his weaponry.

[rose-l-20]

His Biggest Weakness - Baron Helmut Zemo x Female! Reader

SUMMARY: He was very serious on his "NO PETS" rule, but he just couldn't say no to you.

WARNINGS: Super fluffy, established relationship, softZemo!, German pet names, age gap (reader is 26, Helmut is 45), cute af kitten! the characters are technically speaking German, but it's written in English (minus the pet names and some words sprinkled in).

Helmut was currently sitting in the library of the (since the fall of Sokovia) "Zemo manor", located on the outskirts of eastern Germany. The smell of old books, and lavender was a welcoming aroma. He was sitting at a desk close to the huge window, needing new scenery from his at times stuffy office. The view of trees, birds and the warm sun brought peace and serenity to his soul. His fingers, soft and skilled, glided across the keys of his laptop.

As the Baron finished his last email, his stomach told him it was time to get some lunch downstairs. closing his laptop he stood up and headed out the door, turning left down a long hallway. Politely knocking on the door as he entered the room, eyes landing on the beautiful woman sitting sitting in the cozy four poster bed. Warm Coffee in one hand, with her other scrolling her own laptop. a look of adoration rested on her facial features.

"Mein Schatz?" his voice clear and meaningful, glistening (e/c) eyes raised from the screen. "Yes, mein Hübscher?" you replied, Helmut sat next to her on the bed to see what his love was so enamored by. adorable kittens of different breeds covered the screen.

Helmut was super stern with his no pet rule He had stated that as much as he would love to have a cute furry friend following him around, he knew it would be a big responsibility to care for it.

Nevertheless, he knew he was in trouble when you looked at the screen and back to him. "Can we please get a kitten?" your head fell back, nose facing the celling with your free hand four-finger-pointing the screen. "Prinzessin, you know my rule about pets" Helmut kindly reminded you, your shoulders sag at the reminder, but you weren't going to back down. "Helmut..." you dragged.

'Oh no, it's begun!' Helmut thought to himself. "When you go on your business trips, I get so lonely. A kitten-then-cat will help me have company while your gone!" coffee cup placed onto your respective side table, hand gripping his silk sleeve as you brought your body closer to his. Helmut's eyes fought to not look into yours, but he lost.

Your lower lip was jutted in a pout, and your eyes were wide and pleading. 'Scheiße' he was struggling hard. "Schatz, let's go have some lunch ja?" body rising from the plush bed. "THAT WASN'T AN ANSWER!...Hey!" you called out as he vanished from your sight. Shutting and picking up your laptop you followed after him. He was a spec down the hall, heading down the stairs.

entering the grand kitchen, you placed the laptop on the table by the equally as grand window. "Liebe, are you feeling like a panino with a side of grapes, or leftover soup from last night with a toasted cheese sandwich and a side of watermelon?" he asked as you stood next to him by the vast fridge. "The last option, and a proper answer please", you put your hand on your hips. He smiled softly, "alright, I'll let you know by the end of the day ok?" he grabbed your cheeks and gave your lips a tender kiss. "Ok!" you beamed.

"Now, do you want to handle the sandwiches or watermelon?" he laid out the ingredients on the black marble bench.

"hmm? I'll handle the watermelon" you replied as you got the knife and cutting board out. "Wunderbar" Helmut reacted.

----

The sun had set, the noise of the day had become quiet as you finished brushing your teeth and removing your sheet facemask. you swapped your loungewear for some loose cotton pajama shorts and one of Helmut's soft long sleeve t-shirts.

you slipped into bed as Helmut placed his book on his side table, opening his arm for you to slide into his side s you do every night. "So, it's the end of the day" you say as you settle into his warmth.

"it is..." his fingers ran through your freshly washed hair. "...and I have come to a conclusion. We can get a Kitten, but the kitten needs to be a short hair. That is my only requirement." your body shook happily as you hugged him tighter. "YES! that is completely ok, I have been looking at this tabby girl look!" you opened your phone and pulled up a screenshot of the kitten. The photo had an email, phone number and information of the cutie. "can you please zoom in on the email? I'll send an email to the place now" the brunettes fingers typed on his phone. While you watched his fingers glide, your whole body was buzzing with excitement.

"I am not going to be able to sleep now, I am elated!" your cheesy smile melted Helmut's heart. He pulled you close, and ran his fingers through your hair with a chuckle.

"you know how to get into my head, and I know how to get into yours. so relax, sleep. I'll see your beautiful eyes tomorrow."

"Oh you're a smooth man, Gute Nacht, meine Liebe"

"Gute Nacht, mein Schatz"

----

A few days had passed, and now you were walking into the adoption Centre to collect your kitten. The two of you had been to see her, and you both fell in love instantly. You had bought a carry crate and all the essentials on your way home. You were greeted by the same receptionist, who took you to a room with a German sign which translated to 'Adoption Collection'.

you entered the first door and were welcomed by a gentleman who handled the department. Helmut conversed with the man, and handled the correct paperwork. The receptionist tapped your shoulder politely and asked "this will take a couple of minutes, would you like to help get her in the crate?" You nodded, and informed your boyfriend on your movements. He smiled at your excited face "Ok, have fun!" before continuing the paper work.

The woman opened the door for you, and you made immediate eye-contact with your furry baby. You approached the wall of adopted kittens calmly as to not frighten both yours, and the others. getting out a key, the woman opened the door for your kitten and motioned for you to pick her up. The kitten smelled your fingers, and relaxed at the familiar scent. The kitten emitted gentle meows, as you pet the top of her head. You went to place the tabby into the crate, getting onto your knees and saying words to calm her.

"Have you decided on a name?" The receptionist queried. "Yeah we are calling her Mia, very short and equality sweet" you responded as you fixed the supple pastel yellow blanket around her.

"Oh my god, that's lovely! She definitely is a Mia" Her hands clasped together. "Danke!"

Helmut walked into the room, his eyes warm as he asked "is Mia ready to go?" you hummed a yes and headed out of the room, approaching the main area. The two of you thanked the staff and headed to Helmut's black ML Class Mercedes Benz. Helmut's large hand opened the backseat door, and you placed the crate behind the driver seat. You made sure the seatbelt was secured around the bottom before settling next to her behind the passenger seat, and placing your own belt on.

"You know you'll have a long time to be with her right?" The man humored. You let out a small chuckle and explained "I am providing moral support, as cars can be intimidating for kittens" you put your hands up in defense. The Baron shook his head with an amused smile while gently closing the door.

The drive went smooth, your hand was stroking Mia's fur threw the crates opening on the top and peaceful music emanated from the car's radio. You three got home and started setting the furry ball of cuteness up in her own space in your office, which was attached to your bedroom.

Hours went by as you played with her, she took naps on your laps, and got familiar with where her food, water, and litter box was. You felt bad when you needed to leave the room to eat or drink yourself.

The sun started setting through the window, filling the room with gold, orange and pink tones and Helmut turned to you and said

"You really are my biggest weakness"

--------------------------------------------------------

AHH my first Zemo fic!

I am content with this piece, I have always pictured Zemo having a tabby cat so I love this concept!

[legends-and-savages]

@vyrulent sent: ❛  you're perfect. everything you do is just perfect to me.  ❜ (From Lucy for Zemo)

🐝  *  ―  𝑫𝑰𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺.| Accepting

A glance at her and then away. "You're just flattering me." He said. "I am not perfect nor have I ever been." It was one of the things that certainly made him who he was. "You on the other hand are prefect."

[squids-comics]

Man the Hydra base is crazy! Like,

I get the wrestling. I get the tightrope battle. But then you have a guy defusing an underwater mine in a fish tank? A guy getting shot with either a flamethrower or a laser? And then there's the guy at the front giving himself electroshock for fun I guess? And all this is happening in the same (fairly small) room, with no barriers to protect anyone?

There's probably an OSHA violation or two happening somewhere here.

[legends-and-savages]

"I'm sure I can, but that is certainly a confidence boost." He said. "I am already a wanted criminal so if you really wanted me to I suppose I could." Not that he thought she really would want him too. "So if that is what you want I'm sure I can think of something."

“Not with me, you can’t,” Lucy assured him. He’d done nothing to disappoint her so far and she doubted that he could. “And if I demanded you to rob a bank,” her smile was teasing as she enjoyed the sensation of his hand on her hip. Her hand followed his, falling over the warmth with ease. “Would you do that for me?”

[yanderemcu]

Yandere Zemo Alphabet

A=Affection (How do they show their love for you) 

Arm over shoulder,hand on you,hair playing,stroking,caressing, holding hands

B=Bound (How much do they share with you) 

Tells you everything

C=Cruel (How do they punish you) 

Yelling,starving,force feeding,silent treatment, takes things from you,isolation,spanking

D-Desire (How long until they take you) 

1 year

E=Even (To what level are they dominant)

Dominant

F=Future(What are their future plans for the two of you) 

Get married

G=Gifts (What do they give you) 

Anything and Everything

H=Hell (Worst experience with them) 

His killings,his angry moments, his jealous moments, his punishments

I=Insane (How insane did they get because of you) 

10/10

J=Jealous(How easily do they get jealous) 

Easily. Glares at anyone who comes near you

K=Killing (How do they handle killing) 

Hires people to do it

L=Language (What is their love language)

Quality time and gifts

M=Manipulation(What could you do to get your way) 

He can't be manipulated

N=No (To what strength would they go for you) 

He'd do anything for you

O=Obsessed (How obsessed are they with you) 

10/10

P=Pet names(What do they call you)  

My sweet sweet thing,princess, darling,my love,baby girl, love, sweetheart,dear,my dear,babe,doll

Q=Quit (How would they act if you died) 

Goes on a killing spree

R=Runaway (What are your chances to get away) 

None

S=Stalking (How good are they at stalking you) 

10/10

T=Type  (What type of yandere are they) 

Controlling,manipulative,Possessive, stalker,obsessive,delusional, rich,Overprotective

U=Unique (Different from other yanderes) 

Definitely Sugar daddy vibes

V=Vine (How would they feel if you fought back) 

Ignores it

W=Will (Would they do anything against their loves will) 

Ties you up and force feeds you

X=X-Ray (How much do they keep hidden from you) 

Nothing really

Y=Yearning (How much do they want you) 

6/10

Z=Zzz (How do you two fall asleep together) 

Sleeps next to you