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crankynewt · 4 years ago

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Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

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