#colonel helmut zemo x reader

[rumblelibrary]

Exhibitionism and jealous sex with Zemo? 👉👈

I need him like showing off to everyone exactly who you belong to 👀

Colonel Helmut Zemo x EKO!Reader

(This is like my main land, Colonel Zemo and his favourite Lieutenant are back showing off their power dynamics to the rest of the group)

Warnings: SMUT, public sex

To stare at his lands from the above alway quieted the mind of Zemo, it brought him rest. Sokovia. That’s all they did it for. That’s all he was on that cargo plane with his squad for.

He swore to protect it, to make sure to bring it to freedom, one day. Maybe not today, maybe not without blood. But he will.

Now for the imminent problem.

To get down a small group of weapons dealers, of course the Stark Industries behind it as always, but these men were using Sokovia as land of exchange and this had to change.

His eyes travelled over you getting geared up in your tactical suit, you looked ravishing even in that. This wasn’t a mission you were needed, you were good at infiltrate, gaslighting, manipulation, you were his chess queen masked as a pawn, but he cousin’t really give you a discount for being extra good at what you do. His attention drastically shifted when another member of the team coming behind you to help as you chatted quietly. You smiled at him as he bowed lightly to say something to your ear and you smiled nodding.

Those moments before a mission, usually Zemo would spend those with you framing the important informations you have to keep in mind and instead you’re there flirting? Also, with him? Among all?

He studied the way he leaned forward, bowing his head and his facial expression. He really was going hard on you and you even let him do it. Oh, you were enjoying it, you were like a cat that moves around the ankles of a stranger to earn some undeserved food and attentions. Maybe you won’t ever pay back those attentions and yet look how he gave in for it. The chance to be the one you will celebrate the success of the mission with enough to make the man strive for it.

Then Zemo saw it, that hand resting on your hip and yet no reaction.

What game were you playing at?

Even the faint hope you were giving your comrade was irritating the Baron, you won’t celebrate with anyone but him, the rules are clear and yet you seemed up for testing the waters. You looked up and your eyes met, oh you knew. You knew you fucked up and yet you put your hand on the other man’s arm with a reassuring touch.

Then the time to put on the parachutes was on, these dealers had their headquarters in the middle of a forest and the only way to get them down was to surprise them from above in order to avoid mines and other traps.

Zemo shifted from his position to get ready himself even if that sense of uneasiness was still pestering him.

His eyes drifted back to the man, a smirk playing on his lips as you now got parted.

His friends coming closer to him giving him pats on the back and whispering things he would never allow to be said about his woman.

You were one of the first to do the jump and Zemo leaned beside you, the cold air hitting the bot of you.

“Are you sure of what you’re doing?”

You looked up at him as he pushed that question on you, there was no surprise in you. That almost made Zemo want to flip you immediately. You knew exactly what you were doing, he wasn’t misreading.

“I am” you said pulling down the mask covering your mouth, almost shouting to be heard “what about you?”

He frowned to your come back as you pulled that mask back up and jumped soon followed by the ones after you.

Zemo frowned as he took also the parachute and followed up.

The mission was hands down a success, no loss from your side and the whole place destroyed, now he will only sand a group to make sure the surrounding lands get cleaned up from any possible explosives. Back on the cargo plane Helmut looked at the team undoing their technical suits and cleaning their weapons, his eyes once more on you. As always you have been a proper sight on field. You’re not enhanced by serums in any way nor trained since you were a child. You just have it in you, that hunger, that primal instinct to do or die.

Once more, that comrade came closer to you, he talked to you quietly, whispering close to you, his way of behaving rubbing Zemo in all the wrong ways. Plus the fact you’re doing it on purpose. You are destabilising the group like this.

He called everybody’s attention as most of the group was on the seats on the sides of the plane.

“Today’s mission could be considered a success, but you were still slow” he said as the group frowned, Zemo always strived for perfection and he knew soon or later they will have to face something greater than a pair of smugglers.

“But the thing that I find most insulting of tonight’s mission is how some of you believe that they can play among the ranks”

A thick silence fell over the team, only you were still looking at him as he observed their reaction.

He let his little sentence sink in before adding “we do not mix Andalusian Horses with donkeys here”

Only a baron could do such a metaphor and you smirked lightly to yourself as he glared at you, being the closest to him in the chain of command you were beside him and he rested his back against the wall staring at you, his legs spreading.

If you had an hint of fear in your body you’d probably get worried, feel the pressure of what he was implying, of what he wanted to prove. Everyone knew there was one favourite and that was you. Not because he went easy on you, oh no, to be his favourite you had to be the hungriest and most savage of them all. The favouritism was the chance to be in his arms, beside to be his right arm.

You stood up and leaned in to look at him, he didn’t wince. Oh, he was mad you were giving hopes to the guy.

You kneeled down undoing his pants as he stared at you. Oh he wished you’d be afraid of this, but you’re not, you’re just where you wanted to be in the moment you welcomed his cock between your lips. You gave a big show indeed, you were skilled and you showed it off, you used your tongue licking striped of saliva over his cock, you even left out a soft moan as it vibrated against his sensitive skin. You hummed pleased sucking his tip softly, before going down bobbing your head.

He didn’t touch your head, he kept his hands still as he stared at you, you looked for it, asked for it, his hips snapping every now and the hitting the back of your throat.

The soft whines coming from you as he pulled his cock abruptly out and you pressed your tongue fat over the vein on it, looking for welcoming it back into your warm mouth. But that was enough already.

The rest of the group was growing restless, staring and resisting barely to start palming themselves.

“Up”

He ordered and you stood up undoing your pants pulling them down with your undergarment “You’re making a show” you whispered to him.

“You will give the show now” he assured to you gesturing you to turn around with a finger when you moved to sit on his lap “you have been looking for this, didn’t you?”

You groaned softly as he pushed his cock inside you snapping his hips hard inside you “oh, I should have prepped you, poor baby”

He cooed at you slapping your thigh as his hand moved onto your throat, your back resting against his chest as you actually bounced back his thrusts, you liked it and you weren’t holding it back.

Even if the beginning was raw you were too aroused by the whole situation, your body jerking over it in pleasure as he was blessing and punishing you with his attentions

“Tell everyone how much you like it”

“I love it” you moaned

“louder!”

You repeated is again before his hand squeezed harshly your neck, you parted your lips as he just went harder, he controlled your breathing skilfully, he swayed his hips harshly.

“You’re my bitch, let everyone hear the way you call out for more”

He growled into your ear as you held yourself up on his upper thighs, you knew you were playing a dangerous game there, you were teasing the wrong man.

But how pleasurable it was.

The whole group wasn’t letting out a word even if the air was thick, the arousal evident, the man you were teasing before just sweating his soul out for fear mixed up with excitement. That was what Helmut wanted to obtain: you’re an eye candy, but to look and not to touch.

His lips brushing over the skin of your neck, his groans resonating through you.

The way he touched you, the way he slammed into your body, changed angle and trusted more. The way his free hand touched you.

He wanted you to cum out loud. To make a mess on his lap.

There was only one man you couldn’t ever lie to and it was him, only one man held your devotion, your complete submission, the only one that you could accept something like this from without ever considering it an humiliation. It was a pack leader kind of ritual, showing the younger wolves who was the alpha through you and all of them knew you weren’t exactly a defenceless flower.

“Hel”

It was a soft whisper yours, almost strangled by the pressure he held on your neck.

He had to make you cum, it was part of showing them who you belonged to “It won’t end here”

A whisper, a promise you wished and knew he would keep as his fingers grasped over your body forcing you into a very obscene orgasm, the sounds you made could be recorded and played to torture touch starved people in jail, the other members of the group shivering in their spots. If you overacted it just to make it be heard loud and clear not even Helmut could say it.

He thrusted inside you more, once, twice until you felt him release into you and you shivered letting out a pleased moan to be full of him.

Your landing wasn’t far, the plane arrived just on time to let others stare intensely at Zemo to order to break the lines.

He didn’t satisfy them immediately. The had to see it, to see you shiver as his cum dripped on your inner thighs while still on top of him. Only when they did witnessed it, all of them he ordered them to leave.

You rested against him few moments more catching up your breath.

His hands travelling onto your body squeezing your thighs hard almost to the point of bruising you.

“You are a manipulative whore”

You chuckled “I leaned from the best”

He smirked with a soft chuckle escaping him.

“So it is reviewing time, show me what else you learned”

[mypoisonedvine]

Hii!! First, thank you for letting us enjoy your writing, I absolutely love it!. And for tonight's sleepover (sorry if it seems a bit off, I'll understand if you dont want to write it) but... What about one of Daniel's characters discovering a knife kink, like they love the way reader can defend by themselves, he admires that and can't help but thinking about reader being so dominant, slashing his clothes or their own clothes teasing him. How would they react once reader notices that?

this just SCREAMS sub!zemo at me and hhnng you know I can't say no to that! knife kink obviously but no blood, oral m receiving, premature ejaculation, mention of anal, and lots of teasing c:

Say what you will about EKO Scorpion, but you were a dedicated unit of soldiers. Maybe it was because most of the squadron came from intelligence first, but there was a discipline a lot of other boots-on-the-ground seemed to lack. While they spent their leave in bars and brothels, you were working; all of you were. Training, specifically. Some of the others were training with weights, a few more with guns; but you and the Colonel were on the other side of the barracks, running drills with a much more ancient weapon.

He was there first, you saw him sparring against a dummy with his sabre and you stopped to admire his form for a moment before he caught you watching.

"What a sad little blade you've got there, Lieutenant," he smirked, "it's nothing compared to my broadsword." He waved the weapon in question just for emphasis, and you had to admit he looked pretty good holding it like that.

"It is little, isn't it?" you admitted as you observed the dagger in your hands. "I'm just using it to compensate for my huge dick."

He scoffed but you knew the comment threw him off a little bit. He did a better job than the other men in the unit at ignoring your female-ness, but apparently thinking about whatever was in your pants-- huge dick or otherwise-- wasn't how he expected this conversation to go.

"Spar me?" you suggested.

"Sure, where's your sabre?" he asked.

"No, I'll use this," you clarified, and he seemed both shocked and amused (again).

"Against this?" He waved the sword again.

"Yes! Now will you just get back into form? And try not to stab me too hard?"

He cleared his throat quickly and squared himself up. "No promises," he mumbled.

You made the first move, and though his sword started to come down over you, you were able to catch it in the divot of your dagger's hilt, blocking him so swiftly that he never had a chance to stop you from twisting around and pointing your weapon at his neck, just under his jaw.

He dropped the sword and raised his hands, taking a step back and pressing himself against the wall as you followed him with a raised brow. "Well, that was a bit anti-climactic, huh?" you smirked.

His wide-eyed expression made your heart swell for no good reason at all: here was your Colonel, your commander, someone you looked up to and obeyed without question, looking uncharacteristically submissive-- and not just in general, but to you. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind before, but you liked the rush it gave you.

His gaze glanced down for a second, at himself, and you instinctively followed it; you weren't sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn't an obvious boner pressing up against the inside of his uniform trousers. That's what it had to be, right? What else would have that shape, with the ridge of his head visible through the dark green fabric? It looked thick, too... were you drooling already?

"Okay, maybe not anti-climactic for all of us..." you mumbled.

"Exciting, sure," he awkwardly countered, "but I wouldn't quite call it 'climactic'... yet..."

You grinned and stepped even closer, delicately running the blade over his jaw; he had just enough stubble that you were more likely to give him a sudden shave than to actually cut him. Not that you'd ever want him to shave the stubble, because you secretly loved it. "I can fix that," you whispered. "What was it that got you excited, then, Colonel? The blade, the fight, the way I casually walked in here and kicked your ass?"

"A little bit of everything," he decided after swallowing thickly. "H-how sharp is that, anyway?"

"Really sharp," you promised, moving the blade down lower to run over where his neck met his shoulder. "I could cut you. I should stop then, right? You don't want me to cut you."

"Don't stop," he whispered.

You moved the dagger lower again, this time to the collar of his shirt where you slipped it underneath and started to slowly slice your way down, right through the standard-issue cotton fabric. You mainly just focused on your work but caught a glimpse of his mouth falling slack above you.

You'd seen him shirtless before, you end up seeing your comrades in various states of undress when you're in the field together this long, but it looked different with his chest rising and falling every time he panted, with a thin layer of sweat over the highest point of where his pecs were dusted with blonde-ish-brown-ish hair.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, ghosting the side of the cool metal over his fly and watching him tense up. "Y-you're not gonna cut me there, right?"

"No," you answered, suddenly sliding the shining tip of it right between his legs, where his balls must've been turning blue waiting for you to stop teasing him; he started to creep up onto his tiptoes to avoid getting pricked as you continued, "not if you behave."

You looked up at him expectantly.

"You're going to behave, right?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," he nodded quickly, and it was so odd to hear him say that as if you were his superior. You liked the feeling, though, it made you want this more than ever.

You sliced the button of his fly clean off; you hooked the tip of the blade into the end of his zipper and carefully pulled it down.

"Fuck," you heard him mumble as his cock was freed, looking so lonely and achingly hard. You couldn't even stop yourself from leaning forward and swallowing up the tip of it, hearing him moan and feeling his hands grab at your hair right away.

"Hands to yourself, Colonel," you stopped to correct him quickly, and he slammed his hands back against the wall with all the desperation of a man who would do anything to get you to keep sucking his cock. Thankfully for him you did, running your tongue up under the base of it before suckling at the head once more, going just a bit deeper with each bob of your head.

"Oh god," he groaned, "s-so good, it's so good... please don't stop."

It was the sadist in you that had to stop right then, though you gave him a little mercy by stroking his cock slowly with your free hand while twirling the knife with the other. "How long has it been since somebody got you off, Colonel? Other than yourself."

"Can't even remember," he admitted with a sigh, "even just by myself. You know we can hardly ever get a moment alone in a unit like this. But I know the last time I got off, I was thinking about this."

"This?" you repeated, bewildered.

"Exactly this," he confirmed.

"That's funny, cause the last time I got off, I was thinking about you, too," you grinned.

"Really? You thought about me when you touched yourself?" he smiled.

"I never said I was alone the last time I got off, Colonel," you reminded him. "No, I was with somebody... and while he was fucking me I was imagining how much better you would do it."

"Oh, fuck," he sighed as his head fell back against the wall; you kept stroking him as you started sucking again, bringing the side of the blade up against the crotch of his pants again just to see how he squirmed with his cock still in your mouth. "I'd fuck you so much better, Lieutenant, you know I would... let me show you."

You had to pull off of him before you smiled too hard to keep going. "Oh, Colonel, I don't think that's a good idea. I think I should just keep sucking you off until you come-- shouldn't take you very long, you're already trying not to come all over my face as we speak-- and then leave you be. Keep it simple, you know."

"N-no, I need more, fuck," he hissed.

"No, you definitely don't," you chuckled, "you can come right now, just from this. Is that what you wanna do? You wanna come down my throat right now?"

"No, I wanna see you," he explained, "wanna touch you-- I need to make you come, Lieutenant, it's all I've been thinking about for months."

"Okay, let's make a deal then," you offered. "I'm going to keep sucking your cock and if you can keep from coming for fifteen seconds, you can do whatever you want to me. You can fuck me right here on this floor, you can eat my pussy until I pass out-- you can put it in my ass, if you really want. Whatever you're into, whatever you've been thinking about when you get yourself off."

His eyes were so wide as you said that, you worried they'd just fall out onto the floor.

"But if you come, all you're getting is the memory of this afternoon as material for your pathetic little spank bank of fantasies. Deal?"

He could only nod weakly as he stared down at you.

"Count for me, Colonel," you demanded, hearing him start with 'one' the moment you wrapped your lips around him again.

He almost lost count right away, because clearly he hadn't been expecting you to pull out all the stops-- you sucked hard, you bobbed your head and twisted your hand over his spit-slicked length, you trailed the blade slowly down his thigh through his trousers. "Two, th-three, four, five..." he breathed, whimpering a little when you looked up at him and made a moment of eye contact. "Fuck, uh, six, seven..."

You pressed your tongue against his slit and felt his hand jump up to grab your hair instinctively. You kept sucking and stroking as you circled it with the tip of your tongue, moaning around him even though you hadn't even really meant to.

"Eight, f-fuck... ni-- oh, god!" he groaned, and even you were surprised as you tasted salty, warm come beginning to coat your tongue. He held you down with his grip on the back of your head, cock twitching as streams of come shot to the back of your throat. You almost gagged, but managed to keep it together until he was done, at which point you pulled back and showed him your full mouth before closing and swallowing it in one go.

"Not even ten seconds, Colonel, that's a shame," you grinned, loving how embarrassed and flustered and exhausted he looked, "I was really looking forward to being all yours, however and whenever you wanted me... oh well."

You shrugged and stood up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"You don't last very long in a sparring match, huh?" you chuckled, tossing the blade to him and seeing him fumble but managed still to catch it. "Better luck next time."

You left without another word, though his dumbfounded expression proved he had plenty to say, just no wherewithal to do so. You could only hope that he'd find a chance sometime soon to get his revenge on you, because you were really looking forward to losing your next bet with him.

[turkish-d3light]

Zemo headcanon fluff

I really like Zemo and have had this headcanon about him for a while!!

Okay so we know that Zemo is very much a gentleman

So it isn’t a surprise that if his partner was cold, he would wrap his coat around them, right?

Now it wouldn’t be too far off to assume that deep down he really enjoys the sight of his partner with his coat

And whose to say that Zemo also wouldn’t like the idea of wearing or carrying a piece of fabric that belonged to his partner or partners’ creation?

So maybe one day, he would take his partner to a tailor shop and gives his partner complete and full creative liberty to be able to design him a new coat

A new coat that would soon be completely priceless in his eyes

Whenever he got the chance to wear the coat? He’d gladly take the opportunity

Added bonuses if you carry use a perfume or a cologne

Because there is no doubt that he would make sure the coat has the smell. That way if for reasons, you and Zemo had to be apart, the coat and the scent the coat would have, would give him some comfort until you two met again

[wayward-mikaelson]

Imagine This--Getting Engaged and Married to Daniel Brühl

Note: This is a work of fiction of two fangirls. We love and respcet Daniel's wife so this is just set in an alternate universe. Please enjoy and ignore any typos or grammatical errors as this was written in a haste.

This was written with @saturdaynightzemo!!!

As always, this contains content for the 18 and up crowd.

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Marvel Tags: @soccer-100000

Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

Favorite Fics Masterlist

Daniel has been planning this moment for months and he wants it to be perfect! He’s looked around in stores looking for the perfect type of ring for you. Simple and timeless. Once he finds the perfect type of ring, he orders it online due to his celebrity status. The days leading up to the proposal, you notice that Daniel is acting weird and nervous. You ask him if he’s okay and he says yes. So you just brush it off as something to do with his new movie role.

Daniel takes you to the outskirts of whatever country he takes you. It has the most beautiful scenery and you are too busy taking pictures. Daniel is slowly falling more in love with you as he watches you. The ring burned a hole in his pocket. He talks of the future and possible future kids. His voice is so casual that you still have no idea what would happen.

So when he points to the sunset off in the distance, you think nothing of it and turn to look at it. When you turn back around, you see Daniel. Down on one knee, holding a beautiful ring. Simple. Timeless. Made just for you. There’s a shine in his eyes and a sweet smile on his face. He starts to confess how much he loves you and how he wants you for forever.

You tear up as he talks and seeing you tear up, so does Daniel. This is a moment the two of you never thought would ever happen. Finally in the softest voice, he asked “Will you marry me?” you say yes. Daniel jumps up, pulls you into his arms and kisses you. Then he gently places the ring on your awaiting finger and pulls you back into his arms. This time spinning you around. There’s happy tears from you both. He tells you that you won’t regret this and that he will make you that happiest woman alive.

The two of you have rented out a small cabin for the weekend. You two relish in happiness because you both know that when you enter the real world again, word will get out. People will want to be involved with it all. So you guys relax and have the most passionate engagement sex ever. It’s not rushed, but hours of pleasure.

The wedding is small and very intimate. Close friends and family. It’s on a beach side in the Maldives. You’re getting ready and your two bridesmaids help with everything. Making sure your nerves aren’t too much and making sure that the boys are all good too. You get into your soft, silk dress and once your dad sees you, he cries and holds you tight.

In another room, Daniel is a basket case of nerves. He can’t get his tie on and has his best man help with it. Same with the cuff links. He can't stop fidgeting with them or the tie. He drinks way too much water. His best man pulls him aside and helps him calm his nerves.

Once the ceremony starts, Daniel slowly gets nervous again. But all the nerves go away when he sees you walking down that aisle to him. Then he tears up because his future is literally walking it’s way to him. He gets weak in the knees and reaches out for this best man for support. You see Daniel all choked up and teary eyed that it makes you tear up. This man, you’ve waited forever for this man and you still couldn’t believe he was just a few feet away from you.

When the vows come around, you stumble your way through yours. The paper in your hand shakes. When it’s time for Daniel to say his vows, he stutters and stumbles his way through it. It’s deep and meaningful. It makes the both of you cry. The photographer who is seeing all of this, captures it all and is loving every second of it.

When the officiant declares you and Daniel husband and wife, the sun is setting perfecting over the ocean. You throw your arms around him and kiss him deeply. His arms wrap around your and he deepens it even more. The two of you get lost in the kiss until someone fake coughs and there are some small giggles. When the two of you pull away, there is cheering and clapping. But you and Daniel can’t take your eyes off each other.

During the small reception, you and Daniel sneak away for some private time. Daniel has you pressed up on a wall, kissing you deeply. Tongue brushing around inside your mouth. His hands hike up the fabric of your dress so he can feel the smoothness of your thighs. You fumble with his belt and pants. You have him in your hand and he picks up one of your legs and wraps it around his waist. Just as the tip is poking at your entrance, someone calls for you two for the first dance. As Daniel pulls away and fixes the two of you up, he whispers in your ear “Until next time Mrs. Brühl.”

During the first dance, Daniel can’t stop looking at you. There is so much love and happiness in them and it makes you smile bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. He leans down towards your ear and whispers things in German and Spanish, knowing that it’s a turn on for you.

The night ends with a small send off to one of the little beach cabins. Later that evening, Daniel drags you out, wrapped in nothing but a towel and takes you on the empty beach. And that's what you do for the next two weeks before returning to reality. Enjoying each other, drinking in each and every second.

[theimaginarylady]

AHH!!!!!! Just ...

Shadow - H.Z. || Masterlist

Dedications: @stylesthesunflower @lilith-blackrose

This project features 18+ content. Minors DNI

Shadow || Chapter 1

Shadow || Chapter 2

[sabinemorans]

Ok….who has dirty Zemo fics? Pls rec them I’m falling hard

[averagewriter-inthedark]

How the boys would react to you getting hurt on a mission | Dysfunctional Quartet HC | TFATWS

Link to series masterlist

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Bucky Barnes x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Helmut Zemo x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious)

Bucky’s pissed to put it simple. I mean for him it’s like talking to a broken record since he had explained to you why you needed to stay put while he and Sam dealt with the issue. His anger is also directed at Zemo, who was instructed to make sure you didn’t sneak off.

It’s safe to say the plan didn’t work cause here you were with a bullet in your leg after sneaking off after the two.

After dealing with the assholes who shot you, Bucky is the one to throw you over his shoulder and place you down—not so gently—on the table when y’all got to the jet. The whole time Sam is tending to your wound while Zemo hands him the supplies, Bucky is leaning against the wall of the jet glaring at you.

“C’mon blue eyes,” you grunted when Sam poured straight Vodka on your wound, the stinging sensation bringing water to your eyes “It’s just a little graze. I’ve been through worse. You keep frowning like that and your pretty face is gonna have wrinkles very soon.”

Your jokes don’t faze him. “Keep talking, and I’m going put another slug in your other leg.”

Sam is the one who tends to your wound. He’s also the one trying to calm the situation despite being annoyed with the circumstances himself. He already has to deal with Bucky’s brooding self, so the last thing the group needs is everyone to be at each other’s heads. So to keep the peace, he cleans your wound while Zemo hands him whatever he calls for.

“Let this be a lesson learned, Y/N/N, listen to us when we tell you to stay put.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Cap?” You wince at the burning in your leg from the alcohol. It was worse than when Sam had to dig the slug out of your flesh. “You’re lucky you’re gorgeous, Sam. Otherwise anything you tell me would go in through one ear and out the other.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but chuckles at your behavior. “Just promise me you’ll listen next time?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Zemo was the one in charge of making sure you didn’t sneak off, so homie is feeling a little upset and guilty that you got hurt on his watch. The former Colonel is no stranger to bullet wounds, so he knows exactly what Sam needs to properly tend to the area and make sure you fully recover.

He’s also going to make you a drink while Sam stitches you up cause he can tell by the look on your face you need it.

“Look at you coming to my rescue,” you clink your glass against his. “I can always count on you when I need my happy juice.”

The man smirks, “Consider yourself grateful. After all, you got me in trouble yet I still come to your aid.”

The wink you send him was enough for him to let out a laugh. “Please, Baron, we both know I’m your favorite in this little family we got going on.”

[marvelmusing]

HYDRA Hunter

Helmut Zemo x Reader

Part 1

You worked at SHIELD for your entire life, inspired by the likes of Peggy Carter and Captain America, wanting to do the right thing and protect people.

You worked hard, rising up through the ranks. Becoming a Colonel. Spending your time ensuring that you could help people.

Then SHIELD falls, along with HYDRA. And you find out that the organisation you’ve dedicated your life work to was not what you thought it was.

You spend the years after the fall of SHIELD finding old HYDRA bases and employees and ensuring they’re brought to justice.

This has caused you to bump into the Avengers quite often. Steve Rogers often asks for your help with intel.

You earn the quite the reputation as you track down a large number of old HYDRA operatives.

You’re soon known as the HYDRA Hunter. A name you aren’t too happy with but it seems to have stuck with you.

One day Steve asks you to help him and Sam with their search for Steve’s friend, Bucky Barnes. The former Winter Soldier. You agree to help them.

Although, now that you’re occupied by your search for Bucky you don’t notice there’s another person hunting HYDRA’s people.

You don’t notice when Vasily Karpov, the Winter Soldier’s handler, is found dead.

You don’t notice that a certain red notebook has been stolen.

Then Vienna happens.

And the entire world has joined in with your search for Bucky Barnes.

And that grainy photograph is plastered across every newspaper, news show, social media site. It’s everywhere.

You can’t it out of your head. That the ghost of HYDRA could be so obviously spotted like that.

So you go back to your research. Noting down as many HYDRA names as you can find. Then you spot one. Vasily Karpov. And his obituary.

You read the police report. That he was hung by his ankles over his sink and drowned.

Someone else was after the Winter Soldier.

Your discovery is too late though. Steve, Sam, and Bucky are missing by the time you’re in Berlin.

Then Tony sends you some files. The reported death of the UN psychologist sent to assess Bucky. And the identity of the man who impersonated him. The man who found the Winter Soldier.

Baron Colonel Helmut Zemo.

If you weren’t so frustrated that you missed this you would have been impressed with his work.

In the aftermath of the Avengers splitting up you’re busy trying to stay under the government’s radar.

Then Thanos happens, and you’re dusted away. Only to return five years later.

After the final battle you stay in touch with Sam and Bucky, you’d helped Sam out during the years he was on the run.

So when he gives you a call after Bucky’s arrest you offer to help with the Flag Smashers.

Then Bucky suggests visiting Zemo.

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets.” Bucky reasons. Sam immediately gestures to you. You nod, agreeing with him.

“I’m literally right here, Buck.” He sighs.

“Do you have any idea where the serum’s coming from?” He’s got you there.

“Not entirely. After a couple of days of digging I might find something?”

The three of you exchange looks. You don’t have a couple of days to spare for a maybe.

“Okay. Let’s go see Zemo.” Sam says.

Then you’re in a maximum security prison in Berlin. Bucky went in to see Zemo alone, which puts you on edge.

You know the trigger words don’t work anymore. You’re not afraid of the Winter Soldier. You’re afraid that Zemo will manipulate Bucky into doing something he doesn’t want to do.

Bucky seems fine when he returns. You and Sam follow him as he leads you to a large warehouse.

“Where are we, man?” Sam asks. Bucky doesn’t answer, instead walking you through a ‘hypothetical’ jailbreak scenario.

You’re beginning to doubt how hypothetical this situation is.

Then Zemo steps into the room.

“What did you do?” Sam stares at Bucky. Though it’s pretty obvious what Bucky’s done.

“We need him Sam.” Bucky reasons.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam demands, pointing at Zemo.

“If I may?” Zemo begins.

“NO!” Sam and Bucky yell at him. You hear Zemo mumble an apology as Sam turns to you,

“[Y/N]?” He prompts, hoping you’ll back him up. You sigh a little, considering your options,

“HYDRA was never able to successfully recreate the super soldier serum, excluding Bucky. That’s why they had to steal Howard Stark’s test serum for the Winter Soldier program. Whatever lead he has, it’s better than anything I’ve got.” Sam sighs,

“You don’t make a move, without our permission.” He warns Zemo. Zemo nods,

“Fair.” He then turns his attention to you, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Zemo’s eyes are fixed on yours as he inclines his head.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. You must be Baron Zemo.”

“Baron?” You hear Sam question from behind you. You keep your eyes on Zemo.

“Or do you prefer Colonel? Some people value their military achievements over inherited titles.” You’re letting know you’ve done your research.

“Just Zemo will suffice.” You nod. Sam turns to him,

“Alright Zemo, where do we start?” Zemo heads to one side of the room, turning on the power. The lights flicker on, revealing a large collection of cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam jokes.

“These are mine. Collected by family over the generations.” He opens the trunk of one of the cars. You glance inside, noticing the array of weaponry stored. “I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum, because once it’s out there,” he bends to reach inside another car. “Someone can create an army of people, like the Avengers.” He gives Sam a pointed look. “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” Sam turns to you,

“So you two haven’t met?” You look away from him. Even after all these years, you’re still a little unsettled by how good Zemo was. That you never saw him coming. Zemo frowns,

“Should I know you?” You shake your head,

“Sam’s joking.” You dismiss.

“Sounds like he was doing your job for you.” Sam adds. You sigh before explaining to Zemo.

“I’ve been tracking down HYDRA personnel for the last few years. So Sam’s surprised we’ve never crossed paths.” Zemo nods, considering your explanation.

“Are you surprised?” You tilt your head at him. “That we never crossed paths?” Yes, absolutely. It still annoys you to this day. You shrug casually,

“The world’s a big place. It’s not too surprising.” Zemo looks at you, not buying how casual you are. He thankfully changes the subject,

“To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of low lives.”

“Well join the party, we’ve already started.” Sam tells him. Zemo heads off, his stride determined, as he calls back to the three of you,

“First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence, I still have a line on. From there we climb.” The three of you follow Zemo as he heads towards the exit.

He asks for a moment to change his clothes. Bucky paces outside the bathroom as Zemo changes.

When he emerges he’s dressed in a turtleneck, with dress trousers and shoes. He pulls a long coat with a fur collar onto his shoulders. You notice he’s also fresh faced, he must have shaved.

There’s a small walk to a local airfield where a large jet is waiting.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam gestures to the jet.

“Like [Y/N] said, I’m a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country.” You wince at the thought of Sokovia. What happened there is one of your biggest regrets.

There’s an old man stood at the stairs into the jet. Zemo greets him in Sokovian, kissing each of his cheeks affectionately. He welcomes the three of you and you reply with a polite,

“Thank you, sir,” in Sokovian. Zemo glances at you for a moment, no doubt surprised that you speak Sokovian.

The four of you get comfortable on the plane. You’re sat opposite Zemo, with Bucky next to you.

The atmosphere is rather tense, particularly after Zemo stole Bucky’s notebook, causing Bucky to threaten Zemo.

Then Zemo tells you where you’re going.

Madripoor. That’s just great.

As the plane gets close to Madripoor, Zemo suggests that the three of you should change your clothes. He explains each of your roles. You roll your eyes when he tells you that you’d be playing the part of his lover.

You head to the room at the back of the plane with you bag in hand. The outfit Zemo’s bough you is lying on the bed.

You close the door and get changed into your tact gear. People in Madripoor know you, they know there’s no change of you dating a Baron. You push open the door as you finish getting changed. You’re busy securing your weapons when you hear Zemo approach,

“Is my selection not to your liking?” he asks. You look up at him. He doesn’t seem mad that you’re refusing his gift, just curious.

You glance down at the outfit. No doubt it was expensive, and it’s very tasteful.

“No offence intended, Baron. But if we’re going to Madripoor I’m going as myself, not as your arm candy.”

“You couldn’t be both?” He asks. You stop and look back up at him, he returns your gaze, his thoughts a mystery to you. Then Sam interrupts,

“Damn, you think you’ve over done that a little?” He asks you, gesturing to the array of knives along your belt, and the holsters across your thighs and calves. You laugh a little,

“Walking into Madripoor unarmed is pretty unconventional. You three will stick out without any noticeable weapons.”

“You’re forgetting, we have one of HYDRA’s most notable weapons.” Zemo nods his head towards the other end of the plane. No doubt referring to Bucky. You’re quick to press a knife to his throat,

“Refer to him as a weapon again, Baron, and I will ensure you regret allowing me on your plane.” You trail the knife along his jawline, watching it trace against his skin. “Understood?” His gaze doesn’t stray from your face, but he swallows hard and provides a minute nod.

“Of course, Colonel.” You tilt your head aside. He knows more than he lets on. You pull away from him, feeling suddenly aware of how close the two of you are.

Bucky leans his head though the doorway,

“We’re landing.”

A/N: This is a lot longer than I thought it was going to be so there’s going to be a few more parts to this.

If you’d like to be tagged for this series just let me know!!

[nocapesdahling]

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 3

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary:  In which you have a plan to save yourself and Alena, but have no idea if it’s going to work. Either way, you have to try.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Angst; Misunderstandings that lead to angst; Established canon character deaths; Did I mention angst?

A/N: We have reached the end of Part 1 and the Age of Ultron arc. I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far, and would love to hear your thoughts. 

Chapter 3: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.4k

You made sure Alena was strapped in tightly on your chest and that everything was in place. With time running out and Novi Grad continuing to rise, it was as good as it was going to get. You needed to move now. You had your prototype boots and gauntlets, which should allow you to fly. You hoped they would at least. Your main consolation was that they worked during testing, even if that had been in a controlled environment.

You had always admired Tony Stark, being something of a child prodigy yourself and starting college at a similar age to him. When you had first seen the Iron Man suit, your first thoughts had been of awe like any person who got a glimpse of Iron Man. Yet most people probably didn’t think what you had thought later, while considering the technology behind the suit and how to go about making your own.

Well, if he can do it then why can’t I? How hard could it be, really?

It turned out to be a bit more difficult than you’d thought, but you had developed something after much trial and error. However, you hadn’t tested anything in the open air yet. The previous test was only a short one to see if your prototypes would work and you had hovered a few feet over solid ground at most. That was why your plan only had a 65% success rate, but you had confidence in your technology and hope. In Sokovia, you couldn’t get far without hope.

You noticed the air getting thin as the city continued to rise, so you fitted Alena with an oxygen mask. You had a tank available in your apartment for squad emergencies, and were amazed how many times it had been used in the past. Your squad got into the oddest situations. There had been Andrei’s mission with the diplomat and the ice cream swimming pool and Mila’s with the yacht and the hammerhead sharks. All classified of course.

You digressed. There were more important things to consider right now, even as you wondered how your squad would take the loss of their handler when Helmut told them. You knew that it would hit them harder than they would ever admit. They emulated Helmut’s stoicism when in the field and today was still a mission, even if it was unlike any other. The destruction of one’s home was not something any of them had encountered before. If you couldn’t be there, then you hoped your gadgets would help to protect them today and in the future. You planned to be there.

You clipped the oxygen tank to your tactical gear and hoped that it wouldn’t unbalance you too much. You would need all the balance you could muster if this plan were to succeed.

Once you were as ready as you could be, it was time. The city had to fall at some point and you wanted to be in the air when it did as the height it had reached would cause a destructive impact radius. You brushed a kiss to Alena’s head, seeing her little feet kicking and knowing that she was awake.

“Not the best timing, little one. This might be a bit scary, Alena, so I wanted you to know that I love you. Already. So much. I think I loved you as soon as I saw you. Wish us luck, my little Alena Heike. We’re going to need it.”

With that and the realization that you had reached the edge of the city, you took a deep breath, taking one last glance back at the city that had been your home for most of your life. Then, you braced yourself, stepped off the edge, and flew. Well, you took a moment to stabilize yourself as the only other time you had done this was in a local park in the middle of the night and then you had grass to land on not open sky. But then, you flew.

You flew like the birds you had admired for their freedom and grace and like Iron Man. Tony Stark had nothing on you. You let out a joyful laugh, forgetting your circumstances for a moment. You forgot the swarm of robots on the other side of the city, the fact that your home was in the process of being destroyed, that you may never see Helmut again, and that you weren’t sure if you and your baby would get out of this alive. Nothing else mattered at that moment because you were flying.

Then you were shocked back to the present as to your disbelief the city began to freefall, plummeting quickly and devastatingly towards Earth before exploding mid air. You could see from where you were that it looked like Iron Man and Thor had blown it up somehow, but you couldn’t understand why the Avengers hadn’t been able to stop it from falling in the first place.

Why hadn’t they been able to save Sokovia? They had saved New York. It didn’t make sense. The world had painted them as infallible. These were Earth’s heroes? They did not look so “Mighty” now.

The debris began to land too hard and too fast. It looked like it would impact more of the surrounding area than you had anticipated.

You gasped in horror, the tears freezing on your cheeks. If a building was hit with debris of that size, then the result would be catastrophic. You worried immediately for your squad and Helmut, turning on your earpiece with frantic movements even as you unbalanced without one of your gauntlets.

You tried Helmut. You tried Ana, Branko, Claudia, Andrei, and the other members of your squad. No one answered.

The base wasn’t that far away, not when you calculated the radius of the debris. It would be difficult, but you could make it there. You had to make it there. You needed to know.

You flew above and around where the debris was falling and jerkily made your way towards the base, still not as smooth as you wished you were or as fast as you wanted to be. You arrived to the sight you hoped not to see.

The base had been hit by a large piece of debris from the city and was collapsing in on itself. You landed as smoothly as you could a distance away and caught yourself on a tree, falling to your knees. No one could have survived that.

Helmut was gone. Helmut Zemo was dead.

Your chest hurt and your vision was blurry as your mind whirled.

You had survived, while Helmut had died. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You would never see him again.

How did this happen?!, was your last thought before slumping backwards into a faint.

In your horror at the base’s collapse, you had forgotten the existence of its reinforced underground bunker where technology did not work and where your entire squad including their leader, Colonel Helmut Zemo, waited for the dust of Novi Grad to settle. Very much alive and in quiet mourning for their lost Q. They would exit through the tunnels a few hours later, coming out miles away from where you collapsed.

In fact, you wouldn’t recall the bunker’s existence until a little over a year later and by then it would be too late.

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

You awoke in the hospital. It took you a moment to realize what had happened and where you were. With that, came the realization in your mind that you would never see Helmut or hear his deep voice calling you his Q ever again. Despite the gaping hole in your chest and your desire to let yourself be numb, you needed to find Alena. You gasped and sat up too quickly before falling backwards out of dizziness.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself the way you often had as you assisted your squad in the completion of missions, and clicked the button to raise the bed as you looked around the room. You were in a gown and had no idea what had happened to your gauntlets and boots, but hoped they had been destroyed in the landing.

You heard Helmut’s voice in your head as you pinpointed the potential exits and any possible weapons.

“The first step, my Q, is to always survey your surroundings. Get your bearings and be prepared for anything. Be prepared to fight, but also to run if necessary. There is no shame in running. Running can save your life and I, my darling Q, would much rather see you alive .”

You smiled bitterly before letting it fade. You were not in any shape to run at the moment, and Helmut was no longer there to advise you. Your memories of him would have to suffice.

As you surveyed the room, you glimpsed your pack in the corner of the room and what looked like your highly damaged prototypes alongside it. There next to your bed was a crib and laying inside was Alena, who looked clean, like she had been changed, and who was sleeping soundly.

You let a small and real smile touch your lips. She was safe. You were safe. Both of you were alive. Helmut was not.

No, you couldn’t let yourself think of it. Not now. Maybe, not ever.

You pressed the call button for the nurse, hoping this was a real hospital and not some elaborate plot. It looked real, but one could never be sure.

“Finally awake, are you? Good, I’m glad to see it. I was beginning to worry about what might happen to your daughter.” The nurse said in rapid fire Sokovian as she bustled into the room.

“Yes, thank you. How long have we been here and where are we?” You had to clear your throat multiple times and even then your voice came out as a rasp.

The nurse poured some water into a cup, drank it, and then offered you some as well. “You probably do not remember, but you were rescued three days ago. You have been awake sporadically, and even then you were groggy. That is why you do not remember. For your second question, you are in a hospital in the Czech Republic. We are taking care of multiple Sokovian refugees.”

“But you are speaking Sokovian?”

The nurse frowned and leaned closer. She looked like she wanted to pat your hand or hold it. You were glad she did not. “Sokovia is gone. This time for good. There were not many survivors. My mother was Sokovian. I thought a familiar language might be of comfort to you. It has been to the other survivors we’re treating.”

You attempted to read her face and her eyes like Helmut had taught you. She drank the water before giving you some, which was a point in her favor.  She also did not look like a plant and you let yourself relax a bit, but kept your guard up in case you were wrong. You knew that Novi Grad had been destroyed and the devastation the debris must have caused, but it was hard to believe that your country was gone. It had been failing for years, but it was still yours. Yours, Heike’s, Carl’s, Alena’s, and Helmut’s. Now, it would only exist in the memory of its survivors.

You pushed the thought of Helmut aside for the moment, but at the thought of Heike and Carl you knew what question needed to be asked. “Have they released a list of survivors?”

“Not yet, but I do not want you to get your hopes up.”

You hated to think that the nurse was right, that Heike and Carl were also gone. They had been miles from the city however, so you had to hold on to hope for their sake. You could not consider never seeing Heike’s hair in the sunlight or Carl’s smiling face again. They were part of your family. You needed to find out what happened to them. “Please let me know as soon as they release the list.”

“I will, dear. I will.” The nurse gave you a pained smile that looked more like a grimace. “Now, we got your name and identification from your pack. I was in charge of your admission papers, and did not include any reference to your military rank to be safe. Sokovia is gone, so I did not want it to make you a target. What you were wearing alone looked like it would draw some attention.”

You nodded and thought briefly, knowing that had only happened because the nurse had ties to Sokovia. She was showing honest care and concern in the best way she could, and you appreciated it. You had been correct in her not being a plant then. You pictured Helmut’s smile when you told him that you were putting his training to good use, before remembering that he was…

You couldn’t bring yourself to think the word. You had to keep it together. You couldn’t falter now. Not when Alena was counting on you.

You realized the nurse was still waiting for some kind of answer. “Thank you. A civilian life might be just what I need.”

The nurse smiled back, “Yet, we have no information on this little one. I have a birth certificate here to fill out. You are one of her parents, yes?” Alena continued to sleep in her crib, oblivious to the world around her.

“Yes,” you swallowed and rapidly thought of how to answer the next question that you knew was coming.

“And her other parent?”

“He died in Sokovia,” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You wondered if you were prepared to continue. Saying it out loud made it real.

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear.” The nurse did pat your hand this time in commiseration before withdrawing when you tensed up. “Would you still like to put his name on the certificate?”

You steadied your breathing and hoped that when (you couldn’t bring yourself to think if) you found Heike, wherever she may be, that she would understand. You knew that you could not regret this decision. It felt too right for that.

“Yes,” you responded haltingly. The words seemed to catch in your throat. “His name is… Helmut Zemo and our baby’s name is Alena Heike Zemo.”

End of Part 1 - To Be Continued in Part 2: Burn it to the Ground…

A/N:  I know this chapter was angsty, but I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this fic. Part 2 will not have as regular updates because Part 1 was pre-written, but I’m working on it. Thank you all for reading!

[missjaystone]

Happy Birthday

Summary: Helmut gave you the best and the worst gifts of your life on the same day.  Pairing(s): Helmut Zemo x AdoptedSister!Reader Word Count: 2,630 Warning(s): NONCON/RAPE, Incest, Manipulation

(THIS IS A DARK FIC MINORS DNFI: DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT)

A/N: I’ll be real, @mypoisonedvine​ inspired me to write this and now I’ll be dragging you all to hell with me. A/N PS: *Psst* find part 2 here: The Greatest Gift of All

You only stepped into the wine cellar for a minute. You were out of wine and just wanted to get some more from the cellar without bothering your family's staff, they had enough to do every day and they'd have more than enough to do tomorrow. You searched the extensive cellar before settling on a pinot noir from Boudreaux, France, a pinot grigio from Veneto, Italy, and a Rosé from La Rioja, Spain. Why your family thought it needed this much wine was still a mystery but it came in handy sometimes. As you reached up to get the rosé from a higher shelf, you heard footsteps approaching "Oeznik, is that you? Do you think you can help me get this bottle? I'm not quite tall enough." You laughed quietly to yourself but when there wasn't an answer, you turned around and to your surprise, Oeznik wasn't behind you. There, in his Colonel uniform, stood your older brother with an amused smile on his face.

"Helmut!" You exclaimed happily, setting the two bottles down and running to hug him tightly. He let out a small 'oof' when you collided with his chest, wrapping him in a tight hug "Mama and Papa said you wouldn't be able to make it!" "Well, what kind of brother would I be if I missed my little sister becoming a woman?" He asked happily as his own arms tightened around your body. You felt him pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips staying there for a moment before he stepped back, hands resting on your biceps "my god, you've truly grown up since I last saw you, draga. You've grown into such a beautiful young lady, give your favorite brother a twirl? That shade of purple looks absolutely perfect on you," You rolled your eyes but blushed hard under his compliments.

With a nod, you took a step back and twirled; your silver stiletto platform heels glint under the lights of the cellar and the skirt of your plum-purple chiffon dress that stopped just above your knees twirled effortlessly with you. The beaded bodice clung to your curves, the neckline showing a tasteful amount of cleavage while the strap crossed your shoulder blades and exposed the lower half of your back. Helmut clapped slowly a few times, that bright loving grin on his face before his expression fell to one of deep thought "somethings missing." You frowned and looked at him curiously, your head cocking to the side some like a puppy "what is?" "My gift to you, follow me," he said with a soft hum, already leading you towards the bathroom attached to the wine cellar. You looked at him curiously but followed, ignoring the slight shiver that ran through your body when you felt his hand rest on the exposed small of your back.

He turned on the light and stood behind you, reaching into his pocket "now, close your eyes, draga." You gave him a final curious look in the mirror before closing your eyes. You felt him drape something around your neck and you were practically bouncing with anticipation while you waited to open your eyes. "Okay, you can open them," he finally said and you wasted no time complying. A small gasp left your lips as you looked in the mirror, eyes immediately drawn to the diamond-studded necklace he placed on you. It was absolutely incredible, it was a series of small diamonds laid in gold that met on either side of an amethyst that had several slightly bigger amethyst hanging beneath it. "Helmut, it's beautiful, I'm at a loss for words," you said as you lightly ran your fingers over the gems, eyes watering. "I only want the best for my little sister. I bought the necklace from Tiffany's and paid a private jeweler to add those beautiful amethysts," he said softly as he hugged you from behind, looking at your reflections with a proud smile.

"Oh, Hel, it's the most beautiful thing I've seen in the world," you said softly, quickly wiping the tears that fell before they ruined any of the makeup your mother's makeup artist spent two hours on. "You look like the most beautiful young lady I've ever seen," he said softly as his head rested on your shoulder. Helmut was always a physically affectionate person when you were growing up, he often let you sleep in his room whenever you had nightmares and stayed up to take care of you when you were sick, so you didn't think twice about staying like this for a few moments. "We should get back to the party, I think our family will notice if I'm gone for too long," you stated. You made a move to leave but his hold tightened some "they'll be okay for a few more moments." "Still, Helmut, papa has a bunch of people he wants me to meet," you reasoned, making more of an effort to leave the bathroom.

In the blink of an eye, Helmut's entire demeanor changed, he kicked the door shut and locked it. You started to face him, to ask him what he was doing but his hand quickly grabbed the back of your neck as he bent you over the counter "Helmut! What the fuck are you doing?!" "I have another gift for you, Liebling, I'm gonna make you a woman," he huffed, holding your neck firmly as he worked to undo his uniform, all of his awards for honor and gallantry gleaming under the lights and taunting you as you worked to loosen his grasp on your neck and escape. "Stay fucking still before I rip this dress off and send you upstairs naked with my cum dripping from your cunt!" He hissed coldly while bunching your dress around your hips, pushing the lacy black fabric down until it pooled around your ankles. His venomous words quickly making you freeze, the only movements from you was your quivering lip and shaky, uneven breathing.

"Good girl, I'm glad you can follow orders," he said coolly as if he didn't just threaten you. "Helmut, p-please, this-this is-isn't right," you stammered out as his grip on the back of your neck tightened some. "Of course it's right, Draga, you were adopted so I could have someone, someone special to enjoy. Our parents foresaw that I'd need someone and they gave me you," his voice sounded far too sweet for the words he said, it made your stomach twist uneasily. You screwed your eyes shut, you could pretend this wasn't happening, right? You could pretend you were with somebody, anybody else. You tried to steel yourself when you heard his pants hit the floor, a shuddered breath escaping you as you tried to mentally prepare yourself. You bit back a nervous whimper when you felt his head dragging through your wetness, making a shameful and embarrassing blush color your face.

"See, Draga? Your body wants me to do this, your subconscious mind wants me to do this, the only thing stopping you from admitting it is you overthinking this," he said. His hand on your neck trailed down to the collar of your dress, bringing the zipper down with it, making the fabric fall slack. His hand snaked under the fabric instantly, a quiet groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as he lazily fondled your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. "You are allowed to make sounds, Draga; in fact, I encourage it, nobody will hear us," he chimed in as he toyed with you, teasing your sopping entrance with a proud smirk on his face.

A loud, deep groan drowned out the sound of your pained whimpers and uneven breaths as he entered you with little resistance; the only resistance came from him trying to work his length into your tight, untouched core. He hissed and let his head fall back some when he bottomed out "I knew you'd stay a virgin, little sister, you were saving yourself for me, weren't you? God, I'm so proud of you." "Hel-mut, p-please, stop," you whimpered out, knuckles turning white from the tightness you gripped the counter with. You felt the hand on your hip leave, only to feel a light slap on your cheek "open your eyes Draga, I want you to look at me when I'm fucking you." When you hesitated, he slapped you again, this time slightly harder than before "open. your. eyes." Each word punctuated with a slow pull of his hips followed by a quick push back into you.

With a resigned sigh, you opened your eyes, reluctantly meeting the brown ones you used to find so much comfort in. He tucked some hair behind your ear and smiled at you lovingly, the way a big brother looks at his sister when she graduates school, not while he's forced himself balls deep. His hand found its way back to your hip as he set a rhythm with his hips, eyes boring into yours "you feel so good, little sister, so much better than anyone else I've ever met. It's like you were made for me, huh?" He chuckled darkly as he watched you do your best not to show how you felt, but the way you held your bottom lip between your teeth told him otherwise. He leaned over you and whispered praises in Sokovian, taking his hand off of your breast and moving it down until his thumb came into contact with your clit. His thumb worked fast, tight circles on the little bundle of nerves while his hips sped up, getting rougher.

He angled his hips some and pulled out almost entirely, only to immediately slam back inside of you with a vengeance; he quite literally started pounding the moans out of you. Your moans were a mixture of pain and pleasure, you thought you actually felt the head of his member hitting your cervix with each thrust. "Have you any idea how many nights I stayed awake stroking myself, imagining this moment? All those summers our family went to the beach and it took all my patience and control not to take you in front of everyone when you wore those tiny bikinis? Now, you're finally mine and this moment is better than I ever imagined," he rambled, his breathing getting noticeably more shallow while his rhythm became less consistent. "Fuck, I'm so close, Liebling, I can't wait to paint your tight, warm walls with my seed. I always thought you'd look so beautiful with your belly swollen with my child, your breasts full of milk for the future generation of Zemos," he rambled, a sudden urgency behind his thrusts as he chased his own high.

You felt like you were seconds away from biting your own lip off, trying everything you could think of to stave off the impending orgasm you felt quickly approaching as the knot in your belly tightened. His rambles turned from English to Sokovian to just incoherent rambles. "Come on, little sister, just let go and cream all over your dear brother's cock," he hissed in your ear. You shook your head at the request but you knew you couldn't stop it. He only pounded harder, angry at your denial. You tried, you tried so hard not to but you couldn't stop the orgasm that racked your body in waves. He chuckled lowly and smirked at you in the mirror as he watched your expression contort into one of pleasure. He pulled your ass flush against his hips and came. You felt more and more nauseous when you felt each rope of cum shot into you. Your legs shook beneath you and your head hung in shame, tears streaming down your cheeks and falling into the sink as you sobbed quietly.

Helmut leaned over you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you securely to him "sh, shh, it's okay little sister, I know it hurt this time but it'll get easier the more we do this, I promise." He moved your hair over your shoulder and planted soft, gentle kisses on the back of your neck and exposed shoulders "I love you so much, Draga, more than anything and I wish I didn't have to be so rough with you, but you didn't give me a choice." "Please, Helmut, go away forever," you whispered shakily between sobs. He tsked quietly "no, you're mine and I'll be home more often to make you see that you were made for me. Now, let's get dressed, fix ourselves, and rejoin your birthday party upstairs. I'll be pulling your panties back up quickly, by the way; we don't want all that seed dripping out of you, do we?"

You gave a silent, shaky nod and the second he pulled out of you, he leaned down and pulled your underwear up, but not before gathering the small amount that was dripping out and pushing it back into you. He brought his drenched fingers up to your face "lick them clean, Liebling." It was a soft order, but an order nonetheless, so you complied. You held his wrist and slowly took his fingers into your mouth, lightly sucking and swirling your tongue around the digits. He pulled his fingers out when he was satisfied and resumed getting dressed, helping you fix and resituate your dress. Once again, he hugged you from behind and rested his head on your shoulder, running his fingers over the necklace he gave you "I love you, Draga, never forget that. Okay? Happy Birthday, baby sister." You nodded slowly, trying not to burst into tears. Just like that, he left the bathroom, grabbing the bottles of wine you came down for on his way out.

Your eyes shot open and you woke up in a feverish sweat, shooting up to a sitting position trying to catch your breath. It must be that time of year again, your birthday; you hadn't officially celebrated it since the incident almost a decade ago, but every year without fail you had continuous nightmares in the weeks surrounding your birthday. After it happened, you endured it while you were in college until you graduated, then you moved away without a word. You stopped talking to your parents save for the occasional holiday card and you never talked to or about Helmut; they knew you knew. After a year of shitty jobs and moving around, you landed a nice job as a conservationist at a zoo in Poland. You loved it and felt like you could relax some, but you still never dated. You probably should have gone to intensive therapy but you couldn't bring yourself to.

You glanced at the time on your phone and let out a soft sigh as you fell back into bed. It was 9:30 and you didn't have to be at the zoo until noon so you had a couple of hours to relax. Unfortunately, your peace was disturbed by a knock on your front door. Your plan was to ignore it but when the knocking didn't stop, you forced yourself out of bed with an annoyed huff. The cold wood made you shiver for a second before your feet got used to it and you walked to the living room. The knocking didn't stop until you unlocked both deadbolts and the lock chain. "Can I he...lp you?" Your voice quickly died when you saw the person standing there. Chocolate brown eyes sprinkled with mischief and a smile to match, his hands occupied by a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag "there's the birthday girl, beautiful at ever." "Helmut," you mumbled in shock, your heart stopping and the ache between your thighs returning with a vengeance. "Aren't you going to invite your favorite big brother in?" He asked with that damn head tilt of his.

[itszemo]

(    *    & .    ---    RESCUE  ME .

*   helmut  zemo  x  gn!reader . warnings  for  heavy  angst,  referenced  rape  (  not  by  zemo  ),   aftermath  of  torture,  suicidal  ideation   &   suicide  attempt .   —    ‘   1812 words  ’

(   BLOOD   )  IT'S  THE  SMELL  of blood that makes Zemo gag. Not the sight of the wounds themselves, or the knowledge of what your captors must have done to you: it’s the thick and heady scent of copper in the air that shoves its way down his throat and almost makes him sick.

Almost. His hands are steady — slick with sweat and clammy from adrenaline, but perfectly capable of aiming his gun. He takes out the jailer in your cell. He takes out the men who rush to his aid. He stuns the agents running toward him down the hall.

He doesn’t touch you. The smell of burned armor and burnt skin replaces the scent of blood. He turns, and through the smoke he sees little flashes that will stay with him forever: hair matted with blood, skin bruised so dark that for one brief moment Zemo thinks it’s rotting.

Open wounds, circular burn marks from where someone pressed a hot weapon against your stomach and thighs. Dried blood, the crust of cum on your legs, your back, your chest, your face. The deep lines worn into your wrists from where your captors used wire instead of handcuffs, favoring pain over efficiency, confident that they’d broken you so badly you couldn’t escape.

You are his target. You are nude and barely breathing. You are the person who helped Wanda and Pietro which resulted in the destruction of his country. You are lying in your own urine on the floor, unable to stand.

You are one of Hydra's super powered experiment, and you've been raped by men who once called themselves SHIELD agents.

Zemo takes a deep breath and cuts the ties around your wrists.

(   THE   SERUM   )  “That’s all I can do.” Zemo says, standing from a crouch. He tosses his hands up, a muted gesture of helplessness. Your eyes follow his hands like you're expecting a blow, but your expression is weary, not cautious; if Zemo were to hit you, he doubts you would even flinch.

The serum running through your body has taken care of the deep wounds around your wrists, and it’s eradicated the infected cuts on your back and thighs. Perhaps it will dull the pain of your burn wounds; perhaps not. There was little that could be done by the time Zemo got to them. He stands over you, who sit half-dressed on a sofa in Zemo's hotel room, wrists crossed loosely over your knee.

Head bowed. If not for the strain and exhaustion in your posture, you might look natural. Even if you did look natural, the antiseptic smell hanging around you would give you away.

“You want to talk about it?” Zemo asks. He can see you staring at his worn leather boots; your own feet are bare, your bruised and bloody toes peeking out from behind bandages. Your toenails are gone, your soles flogged raw.

“What information do you need?” You ask, tone placid, conversational.

It takes Zemo a moment to realize you’re having different conversations. He wants to know how badly you were hurt; you think this is an interrogation. He hesitates, sits beside you on the sofa.

“They raped you.” He says.

You don’t meet his gaze. You lift your chin, stare at the tv opposite you with cool eyes and a tight jaw.

“I am their soldier.” You say with neither pride nor shame, just stating a fact. “I have been tortured before, Colonel. Haven’t you?”

Zemo’s lips lift in a half-smile, no real amusement. He says nothing.

After a moment, so subtly it could be classified as an accident, you shift in your seat, your arm brushing against his. A light touch, barely there. Zemo sneaks a glance at your face, sees a glaze of confusion in your eyes, a hint of fear. He understands the touch for what it is: not comfort, exactly, but grounding.

There are a million things Zemo could be doing, plotting his revenge plan against the avengers chief among them, but for now, he doesn’t move.

(   BRUISES   )  They won’t fade for weeks. They limit your movements in the shower. Zemo offers help, and you snap out a refusal so harsh that it makes you both freeze, Zemo flushing, you pale. You struggle on your own beneath the water spray, can barely move your arms or bend your legs.

You won’t be clean — truly clean — for quite some time. Won’t be able to rid yourself of the smell of humiliation which lingers on your skin. You wear one of Zemo's old shirts, but beneath the fresh scent of the clean shirt, you swear you catch whiffs of semen and piss. It doesn’t matter that it’s been days since you were rescued; the smell of blood is gone, but those two scents remain.

You stand before the mirror afterward, examine your face. The hum of the shower offers flawless soundproofing, allows you to do whatever you want in here without Zemo finding out. There are a thousand options.

What you do is line your knuckles up with your cheekbone, pull your fist back, and punch yourself in the face.

The first blow is soft, less painful than you want it to be. Your self-preservations instincts have kicked in, making you pull the punch. You don’t let that happen again. You pull back, strike yourself again and again in the same place, until every blow jars you, makes your bones shake in your head, leaves your skin heated and fragile to the touch.

You press your fingers to your cheekbone. You can almost feel the broken blood vessels stinging beneath your skin.

When you sit next to Zemo on the sofa that night, his eyes track up and linger on your new bruise.

He doesn’t say a word.

(   BED   )  At night, you lie stiff in your bed, unable to find comfort. Your body screams at you no matter how you sleep, but this is best: on your back, arms crossed as much as you can manage over your stomach, legs straight and slightly spread. You stare up at the ceiling, Zemo’s bed next to yours. You listen to the former soldier toss and turn in his sleep.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest. You tell yourself the sounds mean nothing; your nervous system tells you otherwise, insists that Zemo is waking, getting out of bed, coming your way. A trickle of heat burns through your chest, into your stomach and bladder, leaves you struggling to breathe as your muscles go limp. You can think of nothing but keeping yourself in control, not letting fight-or-flight get the best of you. You focus so hard on this that you can’t stop your breath from whistling through your teeth, nor can you stifle the frightened groan that escapes your lips, completely involuntary.

In the bed next to you, Zemo goes still. His voice is thick and rough from sleep.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

You clench your fist, drive your knuckles into a bruise on your ribs, let the pain bring you back. Your captor is asking you if you’re alright. When you say nothing, Zemo looks to his side and peeks at you, his face impossible to read.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “I won't harm you.”

He won't harm you. How the hell are you supposed to answer to that?

(   GUN   )  Zemo notices it’s missing from his holster at the worst time: when he’s fighting two HYDRA agents that came looking for you. He manages to fight them off, kills them and stands, nerves jangling, crossing to the cramped hotel room space that he and you have made into a temporary home.

He finds you sitting on the edge of your bed. Your shirt is lifted, revealing the blood-stained bandages beneath; they need changing, but there’s nothing left to change them with. Clasped loosely in your hand, which rests at your side, is Zemo's gun.

Zemo swallows. His throat is dry.

“Hey.” He says, his voice a rasp.

Your eyes meet his. You lift the gun a little, point it not at Zemo but at yourself. There’s no expression on your face, no emotion in your eyes, as you raise it and press the barrel beneath your chin.

You don’t speak as Zemo approaches. Your grip on the gun stays loose; you make no attempt to pull the trigger. When Zemo takes the gun away, sets it aside, you put up only the briefest of fights: your grip on the handle tightens, your hand spasms, you let it go.

You don’t react when Zemo's hands land on your shoulders, squeezing gently, turning you to face him. Your gaze is haughty, exasperated, dignified and unashamed; you're ready to argue that you have a right to kill yourself, that you won’t reveal any new secrets about your powers in another round of torture, that you don’t trust him and there’s nothing Zemo can do to convince you. Zemo can see the arguments boiling in your eyes.

But when he pulls you forward, you crumble into his arms.

(   BREATHE   )  The air in Sokovia is cold and misty in the morning, the kind of air that can coat your lungs in frost. But it will warm up soon, when the sun is high. For now, Zemo drapes his coat over your shoulders, places one hand flat between your shoulder blades for support.

You stand on the stairs of Zemo’s private plane, looking down at the rubble that remains of Sokovia. A few curious looks are thrown your way. Nobody rushes to put you in cuffs; few people seem to recognize you from the battle, and those who do only look at Zemo in surprise, then scowl and move along.

“I told you nobody would pay you too much attention.” Zemo says softly.

You say nothing. Your teeth are clenched, your face blank. You blink rapidly and wait for the mist to crash to the ground, for the image before you to fracture into nothing. For the space in front of you to glitch and turn into your cell walls, the scent of blood.

You blink. You blink again, the bruise on your cheekbone stinging in the cool air. Zemo's hand on your back is warm and broad and magnetic, keeping you upright, keeping you still. You swallow past a tight throat and watch the sky blur.

Now. Now it will dissolve, reveal itself for a hallucination. Now it will become your cell again.

But you blink and the blurriness intensifies then fades, a tear blazing down your cheek, over your self-inflicted bruise, too hot and immediate to ignore or classify as a delusion. You feel Zemo’s hand flex on your back, reminding you that he’s there.

“Breathe.” Zemo says. “And we can go down when you’re ready.”

You breathe.

‘   @noavengers   ’    —   comment to be added to my taglist .

[kayleezra]

More Than Your Actions // (Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader)

Warnings; none

Word Count; 2976

Summary; Zemo is still in the Berlin prison. You’re a guard who breaks the rules and treats him nicely and he’s so grateful

Working as a corrections officer in Berlin was not your plan but you were happy it was where you ended up.

Criminals behind bars often got an unfair reputation. While some were certainly monsters and could easily be deemed unredeemable, most were good people. A lot of criminals were those who were dealt a bad hand in life and it left them with a path that ended up behind bars. It was tragic to see kindhearted souls that were simply trying to make it by or were forgotten by society, leaving them to turn to the criminal life to survive and find a sense of belonging. However, some of the worst people to see behind bars were those who had committed a crime of passion. Those were people who were not only kind and empathetic but lived normal lives beforehand, they had simply taken justice into their own hands. These were people that were getting revenge or seeking to avenge their loved ones.

Yes, some of those in prison were rough but most were simply defensive, like a cornered animal. Once you took the time to get to know them and gave them some dignity and respect, they opened up and formed the best sense of trust they could. You cared for inmates and did your best to rehabilitate them, even if it was just by giving them the time of day or reminding them of their own humanity.

A terrorist. A war criminal. These major convictions weren’t common and were usually harder to crack open than other inmates. So, when Helmut Zemo was transferred into a solitary unit in your wing, you were intimidated yet intrigued. Generally, you didn’t look up inmates because the media only wanted to create a graphic telling of the events to gain popularity. However, you couldn’t avoid news and media about Zemo. Every news channel, publication site and social media platform were filled with his face and crimes. According to the world, Zemo was a heartless monster, a power-hungry man, a ruthless man who just wanted to see the world burn. The media was quick to show that Zemo was Colonel of EKO Scorpion, a Sokovian paramilitary death squad. This claimed to prove that he was a killer and nothing more.

Nonetheless, on the first day, you’d meet him, you wouldn’t treat him as anything less than human.

Zemo wasn’t allowed to leave his cell and interact with the other inmates. So while the others had time to gather in the common area and converse and eat together, Zemo was to be left locked away alone. It felt wrong to you but, you didn’t have the power to change anything. The whole world wanted this man dead and you hadn’t even met him yet.

7 a.m. is when breakfast is distributed, after making the inmates at 6 and doing a roll call and cell check. It was around 7:45 AM when you finally made your way to Zemo’s cell, a tray of food in hand. You knocked on his cell door, even though he couldn’t open it, and walked in with an upbeat “Good morning.”. You found Zemo sitting on his neatly made bed, the room was grey and sparse. It was depressing and it broke your heart. Zemo looked up to you as the door shut behind you, he wasn’t smiling but his eyes held a little bit of light. You began introducing yourself while placing the tray down.

“I manage this section, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. That may be fortunate or unfortunate, you get to decide.”

“Thank you.”, Zemo said courtly, yet politely.

“Can I get you anything to occupy this room and your mind? I wouldn’t want you to die of boredom, it’d leave me with a lot of paperwork.”, you joke.

“No. Thank you.”, he says again courtly.

You didn’t take it personally. Trust had to be built, you couldn’t expect people to open up the moment they met you. So you simply nodded and excused yourself.

The next day, however, you brought some books and crossword puzzles. Sure, he said he didn’t want anything but anyone would go mad in there otherwise. So you simply quietly left them for him.

Zemo was probably one of the easiest inmates, thanks to his military work, he was very good at getting up on time and making up his cell for inspection spotlessly. Meals and cell inspections followed the same tone for nearly 3 months. You came in cheery hoping to lift his spirits and crack his shell, he remained reserved. That was until one dreary morning, fall was ending and the brisk winter was quickly taking its place. You had felt tired and melancholy, inmates took notice of your smile that wasn’t quite as big or how it took more time for you to create a joyous response. Of course, there was no meaning behind this mood change, just the weather, so you were sure to put everyone at ease.

“Good morning. It is unfortunately cold out this morning. This sun seems to have deserted us and winter is rounding the corner faster than we hoped.”, you say while entering Zemo’s cell and placing the tray down as usual.

The weather seemed to be affecting Zemo as well

“Anything I can bring you?”

“No. Thank you.”

You nod, heading for the door when Zemo’s voice stops you.

“Beautiful name.”

You turn around confused, “I’m sorry.”

“Your name, it is beautiful.”
Zemo’s words lifted your spirits and you couldn’t help but keep up the lightheartedness in the room.

“Oh, well thank you! I never thought so but I’m glad someone does.”

Zemo’s face twitches in a teeny tiny smirk, but a smirk nonetheless. This was progress.

It had seemed that Zemo was warming up to you, or the idea that he would be spending the rest of his natural life here and decided to make the best of it. Small conversations would be shared and even a few laughs. You were careful to not get too personal, knowing that he should be the one to start such conversations when he was ready and comfortable. However, he still never took up your offer to bring him something. He never declined the small surprises you’d bring him but he never asked or specified anything he might want. So you took it upon yourself to try to figure out what he might enjoy and not just be thankful for.

It’s just before lunch is to be served and you knock on Zemo’s cell with your arms full of offerings. You hear Zemo Welcome you in before you begin to enter.

“Do you know how difficult it is to get information on Sokovia? Nevermind items. Whenever you ask people look at you as though you’ve just told them that pigs can fly. The suspicious looks and interrogations are ridiculous.”, You say while dumping your arms out on a nightstand.

“What is all this?”, Zemo questions while gesturing to the mess you’ve left.

“Things I hope you’ll either enjoy or will at the very least keep you satisfied while in here.”

Zemo wants to say and ask more but before he has a chance you turn around and begin picking things that you just dropped, up.

“Starters, a crosswords/sudoku/word search puzzle book. I don’t know which puzzle is your favourite but you’re more than smart enough for all of them so I thought this mixed book was perfect. I even got these nice pencils for you, which will be better than the crayons I had left, so that you don’t have to worry about mistakes. Oh!-”, you search your pockets frantically before pulling something out and continuing. “And an eraser!”

Zemo exhales in amusement. Maybe from the nice gesture you’ve made or the fact that you probably look like a madwoman at the moment.

“I also got a notebook and sketchbook and brought some of my favourite books. I’m not exactly sure what sort of literature you enjoy so you’re stuck with my choices. But, I wanted to get something a little closer to home for you. Which, unfortunately, proved to be impossible, so I tried for the next best thing. The next best thing seems to be Germany so, to start I brought The Magic Mountain. I’m not sure if you’ve read it but I’ve recommended it to a lot of people. It surrounds deep and heavy subject matter but I generally found it uplifting. Plus, it’s beautifully written.”

Zemo takes the book from your hands. And you freeze unsure if he’s happy, annoyed or offended.

“Uplifting?”, Zemo asks.

You give a small chuckle. “Yes. I think beyond the barriers of death and war and loss, there’s so much life.”

Zemo moves to sit on the edge of his bed and you join him.

“Hans had an entirely different life and plans before he became infected and confined to the sanatorium. He grieves that loss but a new life is born to him, one with new people. People he begins to connect with. Including Clawdia, the woman he became infatuated with. This rebirth of life reborn a new Hans. While his life is surrounded by pain and misery, life continues. Life doesn’t stop, so even when you’ve hit rock bottom, there’s still a life out there to live and experience.”

You look up at Zemo to see him watching you. It makes you nervous. You hope he doesn’t think you sound stupid or delusional.

“I know it’s a weird take on the book and not-”

“Thought-provoking. Your view is thought-provoking. The novel is filled with such dread that even those who look at it in an analytical sense dwell on its melancholy. However, you’ve understood and broken it down in such a way that you don’t let the darkness consume you.”

“I take it you’ve read it?”

“Many times. Upon first glance, I couldn’t understand how anyone could enjoy it. It’s so filled with grief I couldn’t see why anyone would find it enjoyable to read. But upon a second read, I undertook a sense of security from it. That whatever page I was reading would be tragic, along with the one before it and the one to precede it. The constant blanketed depression would calm me if my own emotions were too unpredictable.”

“Depression is man’s worst enemy and yet his closest friend.”

“Where did you hear such equivoque?”

“Nowhere, simply a saying my brain invented. Oh and, on my way here this morning a lovely woman was selling sweets. So I bought some lokum from her, or as it’s more commonly known; Turkish Delights.”

Zemo’s face falls and he seems to be put in deep thought. You’d never seen someone have such an adverse reaction to candy. You put your hand on Zemo’s shoulder.

“Is everything okay?”

“No. My family is dead. And you’ve brought what was once my son’s favourite treat.”, Zemo says in a quiet curt voice.

“I’m sorry. What you’ve seen, been through and lost is something no one ever should experience. Don’t let the grief consume you; you avenged your family and many others; don’t live the rest of your life in the grips of grief. When you’re reminded of your family, don’t think of what happened or could have been, allow yourself to celebrate their lives and memories. Let your heart continue to love from a place of adoration and not a place of longing.”

You’ve lost people in your own life, and while it’s nothing to what Zemo has been through, grief is something that everyone needs to master or they’ll die themselves. Zemo remained quiet so you took your leave, leaving everything you brought with him.

A few days had passed since Zemo had last spoken to you. You understood. He was facing reality again when in these walls you can forget the world outside them. You didn’t push him and never would, you moved at his pace. You were currently leaving lunch in his cell, he didn’t acknowledge you or respond to any of your pleasantries. You open the cell to leave while saying “I’ll see you later for dinner, Zemo.”.

“Why do you call me that? You must know my real name off of my file and yet you’ve never used it.”, Zemo says curiously.

You close the door and turn around, “It’s what everyone knows you as. I figured that was by choice and if you wanted me or anyone else to call you otherwise you would correct us.”

“Please call me Helmut.”, he pauses, “It makes me feel less like a monster.”

“I’d be honoured, Helmut. But,”, you move closer to him, “you’re not a monster. Your actions, reasons for being here don’t define you. You’re just a man, a man with emotions, a man who makes mistakes. We all do. The man I’ve gotten to know over the past few months is not a monster. And if you ever call him one again I’ll hit you.”

Helmut smiles at you, a warm and real smile. One that shows light and hope in his eyes.

“I haven’t thanked you for bringing me those gifts. Thank you. And I have even more gratitude for your kind smile and words. I won’t let grief consume me, not any longer.”
“Good. We’ve got different psychological professionals you can speak with wherever you want, need or, are ready. Just say the word and I’ll work it all out”

“Thank you”

Since then, Helmut has been much more open and happy, like he was no longer sitting on a ticking time bomb. However, a superior officer managed to catch wind that you had given items to inmates. Which of course is against protocol. Luckily, because the most dangerous thing you’d given was a pencil to a man in solitary, the union didn’t fire you or make it known publicly. You were suspended for a week while they came up with an official decision.

Helmut hated the man who had seemingly replaced you. He constantly had a look of disgust on his face. You hadn’t shown up in days and Helmut was getting more and more concerned. Sure you had weekends but this was longer, and you always informed him when you’d be gone. He tried to reassure himself that you’d just forgotten or had some sort of family emergency. But his speculations didn’t ease his anxiety so he asked the asshole officer one morning about your whereabouts.

“Ha. I’m sure you miss the imbecile who was helping you escape or was naive enough for you to manipulate.”

“I’m just concerned”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure that’s what you’ll tell them if they’re ever allowed back here.”
“Allowed back?”

“They got caught giving handouts to the scums in this place. Worst of all, you.”

Helmut shakes his head in annoyance and anger. This man had insulted him by insinuating he was nothing but a criminal. And he kept insinuating that you were stupid and that he was better than you, neither of which were even remotely true.

As one last stab, the officer says, “I’ll let you know what happens to your lover.”
At that, he rushes the door but is too late and smashes the door.

3 Weeks pass without you and Helmut is starting to suspect you’ve been fired and he’ll never get to see you again. Until there’s a knock on his cell door. Only you were the one who ever bothered to knock, even when he told you it wasn’t necessary, you told him it was to help him feel human and not like a caged animal. Helmet stands from his bed, staring at the door with his heart in his stomach. Your name silently sits on his lips. You silently step in with a bright smile on your face and Helmut can’t help but feel lighter and joyous. As you step further into the cell Helmut stands nervously with his hands fidgeting in front of him, he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do.

You start to speak, “I’m so sorry I-.”.

You’re stopped when Helmut pulls you into a tight hug.

You hug him back just as passionately. Tears sting the back of your eyes because of how much you’ve missed him. During your suspension, you realized that you had fallen for Helmut. It felt as though you were going through withdrawal without him.

“Helmut, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Don’t”, Helmut pulls away but holds your face, tears in his eyes as well.

“I thought you were gone forever. You risked yourself for me, for others. But, I don’t want you to leave, I don’t want you to leave me. Ever. You’re the only person to treat me with such humanity since the fall of Sokovia”

“I missed you too”

Helmut glances down at your lips and then back to your eyes, “Would you care to break protocol once more?”

“Yes please.”

Helmut is hesitant, so you meet his lips first. His hesitation turns into a passion you’ve never experienced. The kiss is slow and yet demands that you never leave each other. Your arms wrap around his neck and for the first time, the both of you feel safe and loved.

Helmut pulls away, but keep his hands on your face and your foreheads together. He stumbles over his words, “I-. You mean-. I-.”

“I know, Helmut. I know.”

Helmut didn’t have to explicitly say what he felt because you already knew and felt the same.

“Never sneak things in here again if it risks me losing you. You’re all I need here.”

“Okay, Helmut”

You know that your new relationship with Helmut will be caught at one point. You know it’ll cause an issue. But, until then, you’ll enjoy what you have and jump that hurdle when need be.

[trillian-anders]

chambers - vii

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 4597

Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

Helmut Zemo.

 What do we know about Helmut Zemo? 

He was a former Colonel of the Sakovian Armed Forces. He lost his entire family during the Ultron ordeal in Sakovia. He was a former commander of the EKO Scorpion special forces. He hated the Avengers. He hated Steve Rogers. He planned an attack for a year, knowing he couldn’t take the Avengers on himself, he pulled a pin exactly where he knew it would make the tower fall. Bucky Barnes. 

He knew Steve Rogers would do anything to get Bucky Barnes back, the Winter Soldier hiding out in Romania, Captain America had been looking for him for a while. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Zemo. Framing Bucky Barnes took work, but it was necessary. He bided his time, finding the Winter Soldier’s handbook, setting a bomb. Finding the recording that would turn Tony Stark against Steve Rogers. Destroying that trust. Destroying two of the big three. 

But there he was, sitting in his cell at the Joint Counter Terrorist Center. 

“There were memories of Zemo approaching them.” Wanda explained. “Both in the same way, he came to them. Hired them.” Zemo was sitting on his bunk, reading. 

“I’m going to go down there tomorrow,” Sharon explained, “Make sure it’s actually him.” She looked to the people in the room. “If he’s somehow escaping or if this is someone else using a disguise… we’ll have a big problem on our hands. 

“EKO Scorpion was like Sokovia’s own private STRIKE team. A kill squad of the highest caliber. If he’s on the streets…” Sam continued, “We need to get him back off of them, by any means necessary.” 

The Avengers. Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, King T’Challa, Scott Lang, Clint Barton. And those were the ones currently on planet. 

Crime had been low since the blip in general. When half of the population disappeared people were more worried about picking themselves back up off the ground rather kicking other people while they were already down. After it was reversed there was chaos in bringing everyone back. Sure there were petty crimes, always. But nothing to the magnitude that Zemo could bring if this intel was true. 

No one outside this room could be trusted. 

“Not even Y/N.” Sharon claimed. Bucky bristled at the thought. They had to keep you in the dark on this. You could be a pawn in a bigger game. The more you knew, the less they could protect you Bucky reasoned. But Sharon was covering bases. It was what she was good at. You weren’t an Avenger. You weren’t an agent. 

“She’s a liability.” Sharon continued, “While Zemo still seems to want her she’ll stay on base and Bruce, you continue your testing, but I think it’s for the best that we still treat her like an outsider.” It makes sense. Bucky and Sam shared a look, Wanda visibly tensed in front of them. 

“She has nothing to do with this,” Wanda defended, “The attack-”

“We just need to cover all of our bases,” Sharon reiterated, “She came out almost completely unharmed from an attack with five men where she’s completely untrained. We still don’t know the capacity in which the heart is affecting her and until we do, we have to treat her like she’s a patient. Keep your distance.” She was not winning them over, “At least until we figure out more of what’s going on.” She nodded to Sam who stood from his chair, coming to the end of the conference table. 

“Zemo is dangerous,” Sam started, “Obviously, the dude has no moral compass.” His hands rested on the table looking at the group, “Sharon, you and Wanda are going to JCTC to meet with Zemo… get in his head, make sure he is who he says he is.” His eyes shifted to Peter Parker, 

“Pete you’re going to help Bruce here with Y/N, we have to expedite the testing unfortunately, Bucky and Clint will take the streets. Zemo has to have some sort of base nearby. Scott and I will be going through CCTV footage around the city and looking into old EKO Scorpion members.” He stood tall, hands on his hips, looking back to the monitors behind him, looking more like Cap than ever, “T’Challa is going to look through different avenues internationally looking into his old stomping grounds.

Alright, we all have our assignments. Let’s get it done.” 

“It’s not fair to her,” Wanda started, “Not letting her know what’s going on.” Bucky and Sam frowned in unison. 

“I don’t like it either,” Sam said, “But she’ll immediately know who Zemo is and she’ll know what kind of threat she’s up against. She needs to finish her testing, see what’s fully going on.” He stepped off the elevator onto the compounds resident floor. 

“She’ll hurt herself otherwise.” Bucky agreed. “We just have to keep her in the dark until we find out what exactly is going on here. None of us like it.” 

Wanda felt unsure if that really was the best avenue of defense, but didn’t really have much room to disagree. 

Bucky watched from the other side of the glass as you laughed, Eric was looking a little better today. The swelling had gone down a bit, the charming bastard was talking to you, closely. Your full attention on him as he told you a story about his youth. Head propped up by your hand, elbow on the armrest of the chair. You were enraptured. It gave Bucky a strange feeling in his chest.  

Something was off about this guy and Bucky couldn’t figure out what. Wanda cleared him. ‘No ill will’ was found in his mind, but he really liked you. That’s what she said to him. He didn’t feel comfortable with Eric getting close to you. He was unconsciously clenching his fists on the other side of the glass. 

“It was very embarrassing.” Eric laughed, “Here I was on my very first date with a girl, thirteen years old, and I threw up in the middle of the movie.” 

“I’m surprised you’d ever dated again.” You humored. You liked him. You did. 

When you had explained what happened to you, describing how in your chest rested the heart of the deceased Steve Rogers and you’d been experiencing his memories, he took it in silently. He really listened. Yes, you’d told Wanda everything. But Bucky and Sam were a different story. Bucky was a different story. He didn’t want to hear it, the one you wanted to talk to the most. 

He wasn’t ready, and that’s okay.

But Eric was. Eric was ready for whatever you had to throw at him. “It really makes you think about how the heart and the head really work together, huh.” He smiled. You’d vented to him, honestly. About how hard it was to have all of these friends who don’t know who you are. To have all of these heartstrings pulled every day. You’d told him about the research Bruce was doing. Only a little. Just enough for him to know that they were working on figuring out how to get the memories to stop, or at least manageable. 

You’d caught Bucky when he’d moved in front of the glass. He stood there for a moment watching before tapping two metal fingers against it and curling them towards him. C’mere. 

“I’ll be back.” You told Eric, removing yourself from the room. You could feel his eyes on you from his hospital bed from the other side of the glass. “What’s up?” You’d wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your cardigan closely around your body as you stood across from the super soldier. “Did you find out who they’re working for?” His face was tense, you knew that face. “What happened?” His eyes wouldn’t meet yours. 

So it was bad news. 

“I’m gonna have to go away for a bit.” He said. Your heart panged in your chest, “We’re going out to find who they are and what they want,” He glanced into the hospital room, Eric’s eyes steadily focused on the television there. “But I’m gonna be off compound for a bit.” You sighed, nodding, following his eyes into the hospital room. 

“When do you leave?” You asked. His eyes finally met yours, 

“In twenty.” You didn’t know what to do here, but you were happy he’d come to tell you. He cared enough to let you know that he’d be leaving. “You have my number in your phone?” Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Yeah.” You breathed, the room feeling a little warmer.

“If you need anything,” He said, “I might not answer right away, but--”

“I understand.” He shifted awkwardly in front of you, eyes drifting to your feet. He seemed to be debating something. His hand slowly reached for your arm, gently pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly, resting his face in your hair. Your heart was racing, arms coming to wrap around him just as tightly.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” Whispered softly in your hair, tears welling up in your eyes, you rolled them to the ceiling trying to stop them from falling, but it was useless. 

“How can I?” You let out a watery laugh, the hug ended and your teary eyes met his, “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He smirked, eyes betraying sadness, stepping back from you before turning and walking down the hall, giving you one last lingering glance as the elevator doors close. 

“What was that about?” Eric asked as you reentered the room. You pushed your hair out of your face, tucking the strands behind your ears. 

“Just leaving for a mission,” You sat back in the chair. “He just wanted to check in on me.” Eric nodded, picking at the sheet. 

“Should I be worried?” You laughed softly, heart aching. 

“We’re just friends, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smirked, 

“It was.” 

Peter Parker was energetic. The eighteen year old kid who just started college moved across the lab on a wheeled chair. Skating from one side to the other. You’d watched him do this at least four times before he spun in a circle fast enough to make you dizzy before his eyes met yours in the doorway, cheeks turning red. “H-hi.” He stuttered. 

“You must be Peter.” The young boy smiled, rolling his chair back to the desk with his feet. 

“Peter Parker, yeah.” You’d known of him. Spider-Man who turned out to be just a teenage boy. You’d never seen him swinging around NYC in person, but you’d seen videos. It was pretty cool. You’d also been told by Bruce that he was extremely smart, he was currently studying biophysics at ESU on a full ride. 

“I’m Y/N.” You sat in the rolling chair across from him. 

“Yeah, I know.” He said, “Well, like, recently they just showed us your picture so.” He swallowed, placing his hands on his knees.  He cleared his throat, looking behind you as Bruce entered.

“You ready?” 

“Okay so, if we use the two dollars I have saved and the three you have saved we should have enough.” Bucky counted the coins laid out on the table in front of the two of you. Water sat still on the stove behind him. The wallpaper was floral and cracking in some places. 

This was their apartment. 

Three potatoes sat next to the stove, ready to be boiled and buttered for dinner. The beef chuck Bucky had brought home earlier in the day sat wrapped in paper next to them. “What do you think?” Bucky was looking at you expectantly. 

God he is beautiful. Here domestic. His hair was soft, he hadn’t put any pomade in it, a soft curl on his forehead. Eyes bright and young. Soft blush pink lips smiling at you. At Steve. 

“I don’t know Buck,” You sighed, finger picking at the doily tablecloth. “I don’t think we should waste our money on it.” Money was hard to come by. Buck pulled long shifts at the canary, but Steve was scraping by selling funnies to the paper. They had just enough. This five extra dollars took a long time to collect and you—Steve—couldn’t justify spending it. Not on himself anyway. 

“Listen,” Bucky licked his lips, “You’re a really good artist, and this would get you some watercolors, a couple canvases, and a new sketchbook. You haven’t painted since your Ma passed buddy.” Your fingers were itching to do it. You wanted to. You did.

“Nah Buck we should save it.” Bucky’s face fell, looking down to the table at their pile of coins. “Maybe use it to fix up some stuff around here. The radiator rattles and winter was coming. Should be enough to get it fixed.” Bucky nodded, moving some of the coins around before slipping them back into the coffee tin. Placing it in the cabinet he turned his back to Steve.

“Just figured it’d make you happy is all.” Bucky mumbles, beginning to chop the potatoes into chunks.

“I am happy Buck.”

Your eyes focused, staring back at the picture of the tubes of paint on the screen in front of your face. 

“Doing alright?” Bruce’s voice came over the microphone in the machine.

You sigh heavily, “Yeah I’m fine.” 

“That wasn’t as bad of a reaction as you’ve been having.” Bruce explained. “Maybe your body is adjusting.” The bed moved, pulling you from the machine where Peter was waiting to unlock the plastic cage around your face, helping you sit from the bed. 

“Thanks Peter.” The teenager smiled, 

“No problem.” The two of you looked at Bruce who sat silently replaying the brain scan. “What do you think is happening Dr. Banner?” 

“Whenever a memory is triggered, one of Steve’s memories,” He started, “It triggers your amygdala and hippocampus just as your actual memory would.” His eyes met yours through the glass. “I’m going to start you on some seizure medication, I think that’s all we can do right now.”

Bucky stared at his phone. No notifications. But why would there be. There would probably be no reason for you to text him anyway. He hoped. No news is good news. Other than the steady updates from Sam of which direction the van carrying Zemo’s thugs had come from there was a fair amount of radio silence. 

Clint stood, hands on his hips in front of the counter at the coffee shop, “Okay Romeo,” the archer quipped, “Whaddya want?” Bucky rolled his eyes, 

“To find the base.” Clint gave him a steady glare before turning to the barista, 

“He’ll have a large black coffee.” It was cold today. Colder than it had been. Fall was finally settling in. Leaves crunched under his boots as he stared down the alley he’d saved you in just two days before. The guy, Eric, his blood was still smeared across the bricks, dried, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. 

“Got the guy good, huh?” Clint took a sip of his latte. Bucky nodded and Clint added, “A little too good.” Their eyes met.

“You can feel it too?” Bucky asked. Clint shrugged. 

“Something is off about it.” He crouched down to study the boot impressions on the ground. Distinctively looking at the soles and seeing all the thugs were wearing the same kind of boots. He took a picture with his phone. “The guy gets beaten within an inch of life, but Y/N barely had a hair out of place.” 

“So are you suspicious of Y/N or of Eric?” Bucky was defensive. He could never believe you had anything to do with this. Clint smirked, 

“She’s really friendly with you.” He stood, exiting the alley. “And Sam…. Wanda too.” The pair started in the direction Sam instructed them to follow. “Wanda trusts her, so I do too. That guy though…”

“You can feel it in your gut right?” Bucky asked. Clint nodded at him as he turned a corner.

“I can feel it in my gut.” 

“Wanda said he was clear, and you trust her.” That was what Clint said about you. The pair continued to walk, eyeing the security cameras on the corner. 

“She said he had no ill will towards Y/N, that doesn’t mean something else isn’t wrong with him.” So Bucky wasn’t crazy. He’d be sure to talk to Sam about it later, but for now, looking down at his phone he fought the urge to text you. To tell you to stay away from Eric. And maybe you would listen. If he’d asked you to do it for him. 

“How are you feeling?” Eric looked a little better. The swelling almost completely gone around his face, just bruises turning yellow and green. He smiled softly at you. 

“A lot better today.” Your fingers tightened around your phone as you settled into the seat, the tv ambling softly in the background. It’s only been a day but you missed Bucky. You always saw him at some point whether it was during a meal, the morning jog you’d begun taking up, or in passing in the hall. His absence was felt. 

“Good,” You smiled back. “Getting bored down here?” The handsome man shrugged. 

“It’s not so bad.” He gestured towards the tv, “I haven’t watched The Price is Right in a long time.” You hummed in response. 

“When do they think you’ll be out of here?” Eric shrugged,

“End of the week maybe,” He looked at you softly, “I was thinking,” Your heart skipped in your chest, “Maybe they need some extra help? I was a Master Sergeant in the marines. I’ve done tactical work. Strategy.” Oh. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sure you can talk to Sam about it.” You offered. “He’s in charge of all that stuff.” You picked a fuzz ball off your leggings. 

Eric nodded, “I just wanna help find the guys who did this. Whoever is after you.” His warm hand enveloped yours, thumb rubbing soothingly. “It’s not fair…” He said softly, “The hand you’ve been dealt.” Your other hand gently lay over his, heart thrumming,

“It’s more than I expected honestly.” You shrugged, “I never thought I would live this long.”

“It’s weird being here, right?” You asked. The hot breezes here in Wakanda made sweat drip down the back of your neck. It was warm here, warmer than where you just were. Bucky sat across from you, staring out into the lake in front of his hut. 

“Yeah,” His gruff voice was scratchy, fingers picking at blades of grass. His eyes met yours, “I never thought I’d live this long.” You nodded.

“Neither did I pal,” the sun was setting over the horizon, “Thought we’d go home after the war.” You cleared your throat, “Settle down somewhere close, marry some dames,” Your throat felt tight, “Have kids.” Bucky nodded.

“It feels like so long ago.” It was. It was so long ago. Bucky has just come back out of the ice last week. A small hydra cell that Steve, Sam, and Natasha had taken out just before receiving the call that Bucky was awake. And asking for him. You. Your heart fluttered at the thought. 

You missed him.

“Things are different now, Buck.” You felt him tense next to you. Words unspoken. Your heart aching. “Just another obstacle to get through.” Bucky shook his head, laughing darkly.

“The obstacle of me murdering innocent people you mean.” You sighed heavily, shaking your head.

“It wasn’t—“

“It was.” Bucky stopped you. “It was me.” His fist clenched on the few blades of grass in his hand. “I did it. I did all of it. Whether I was in control or not their blood is still on my hands.” The guilt. The feeling of, I should have gone back for him. I should have went to retrieve his body. It sat heavily in your gut. 

“Bucky,” Your voice came out as a whisper, hand coming to rest on your friend’s shoulder, “You were a gun. Hydra made you that way, but you’re not that person. You’ve never—“

He scoffed at you, shrugging your hand from his shoulder, “I killed people before Hydra.” Standing to leave, “I killed Germans all over fucking Europe. Who knows if they really believed in what they were doing or—or if they were just dumb kids like us?” He ran his fingers through his long tangled hair, “I kept your hands clean Steve.” His eyes watery, “I kept your hands clean.”

A soft jostle and you were back, sickening guilt in your gut. “Hey,” Eric looked concerned. “Are you okay? You kinda just… your eyes rolled back in your head.” You had a headache. 

“Yeah,” You breathed, “Just a memory.” Eric frowned, 

“What was it about?” You shake your head, 

“It doesn’t matter.” You stood from the chair, “I need to go lay down for a bit. I’ll be back later.” Eric sat back in his bed, studying you for a minute.

“You can talk to me, you know that right?” His voice calm. You nodded, 

“I’m gonna go take a nap.” The second you closed the door tears started rolling down your cheeks. The fucking guilt. Jesus the guilt. You’d felt it before. Every time you looked at the people Steve left behind you felt guilt, but this pit of despair in your stomach was making you nauseous. 

You had to find Sam. 

-

The Joint Counter Terrorist Center was in Europe. It had taken a few hours by jet to arrive but Sharon remembered it from where Zemo had first interviewed Barnes. Where he’d pulled the pin on the Avengers. He sat in a glass cell in a lower floor. Four guards stationed around at all times. They worked on four hour shifts staggered so once an hour a guard would be replaced. 

Even if you could figure out how to get out of the cell you’d have to get past four guards, get through six floors of high level clearance and make it off the grounds without being seen. 

“It should be impossible.” Sharon stated, “He shouldn’t be able to get out of here.” There were five camera angles, one on each side of the box and one giving an aerial view. Wanda examined them closely, looking from one screen to the next watching Zemo sitting on his bed watching the small television he’d been allowed. 

“I saw him,” Wanda said, “He told them where Y/N frequents and that he wanted her alive and unharmed.” Sharon looked at her friend, 

“Unharmed?” She asked. 

Wanda nodded, “Unharmed.” Zemo’s eyes shifted, looking directly at the camera Wanda had been looking into. A chill went down her spine. 

“Ready to go down?” Sharon started towards the elevator. Wanda nodded slowly, walking backwards to the elevator before the two took the six floors down to the containment area. 

The air was cold in here. Meant to make him slightly uncomfortable. No one really cared about convicted terrorist’s comfort. He sat idly in his cell, a Sokovian game show playing on the small tv. He didn’t look up when they entered. 

“It’s not often I’m given the pleasure of company,” He smirked, “Especially not two beautiful women.” 

Wanda felt uncomfortable in his presence. Her skin crawled. 

“Cut the shit Zemo.” Sharon’s authoritative voice spoke, “I’m sure you know why we are here.” Zemo’s eyes drug themselves from the screen, meeting hers. Smiling.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Wanda rolled her eyes, crossing her arms against the cold, or maybe to feel more distance between herself and Zemo. Red tendrils curling around her finger tips. 

“What do you want her for?” Sharon didn’t need to say who. The three of them knew who they were talking about. Zemo didn’t answer. Wanda reaches out to him, it looked like red smoke, billowing from her fingertips, entering through the quarter inch holes in the glass to curl around Zemo’s head. His devilish eyes grinning back at her as she searched. 

Her eyes widened and she hastily spoke, “It’s not him.” Zemo was gone. The man, whoever he was, laughed from behind the glass. The nanoskin he was wearing shifted as he pulled it from his face. The guards standing in the corners of the room pulled their guns, but not on the Zemo impersonator. On Sharon and Wanda.

-

“Hey,” You knocked gently on the office door. Sam looked up from the multiple screens he had in front of him. A man you knew as Scott Lang sitting at a desk adjacent with the same amount of screens. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” You shifted nervously. 

“Scott, you can take this for a minute?” Sam looked to his partner. Scott nodded, 

“Sure thing.” You could see a little black piece of tech sitting in Sam’s ear as he stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, hands coming to rest on your arms. You sighed heavily, eyes still watering.

“I just had another memory.” You whispered, “I’m just left with all this guilt.” Your head was pounding. “I don’t know what to do with it.” Sam nodded, understanding. 

“Steve’s guilt?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “I just—I don’t know how to not feel this.” You placed a hand over your heart. “It just hurts.” You shrugged dismissively, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you with this.” 

“You’re not bothering me with anything Y/N.” Sam sighed, “Listen, I’m not going to pretend like I have any clue what you’re going through but I know Steve—I knew Steve and he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.” Sam’s hands rubbed your arms comfortingly, “This guilt that you’re feeling he carried around with him wherever he went and I’m sorry that you’re burdened with this, but it’s good you’re willing to talk about it.” You wiped under your eye, “Go rest for a bit, maybe take a bath—“

“Cap.” The office door wretched back open, Scott’s panicked face on the other side. “We’ve lost contact with Sharon and Wanda.” You felt your heart stop as you looked back up at Sam. His face having gone serious. 

“Sam, where were they?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm. 

He wouldn’t look at you as he reentered the office, walking around to the computer screens where you could now see half of New York. A couple keystrokes and it shifted to a cell. A cell containing a man sitting and watching a small tv. “Is that Zemo?” You looked at the men for answers. Sam wouldn’t look you in the eye.

“Y/N please go to your room.” His stern voice, his Captain voice. You bristled with anger.

“What the fuck does Zemo have to do with this?” You remembered Zemo. Of course you remembered Zemo. Your memory would remind you of a news report. Steve’s memory however, reminded you of the vicious fight. The torn friendship. The guilt. The fucking guilt. Sam looked up at you from the screen.

“You don’t have clearance for this,” Sam’s eyes were apologetic but his voice still tough, “Go to your room.” You hated this. You really did. In a split second your brain decided for you, just go. Obey orders. That’s what Steve would do. You could do research in your own time. After all, you had Steve’s memories which means you had a lot of passwords too. 

That’s what Steve would do too.

 .

.

.

taglist //  @nutellakirb​ @witch-of-letters​ @torntaltos​ @emotionallysalty​ @an-lover​ @albinotigerpython​  @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @the-soulofthedevil

[viinchester]

Requests

(My Masterlist)

You can request (Character) x Reader here! The characters and categories I'll do are on the list below! To request, please send an ask in with the character you want and a vague description of what you want the oneshot to be about.

Example: "Hey, could I get a Justin Foley x Reader where she's new like Hannah was and Justin instantly gets a crush on her and she doesn't like him at first but at the end she gives him a chance and they are dating? Tysm! <3"

Characters

Dexter (TV):

Dexter Morgan

Brian Moser / Rudy Cooper

13 Reasons Why:

Justin Foley

Alex Standall

Zachary Dempsey

Scott Reed

Montgomery de la Cruz

Bryce Walker

The Society:

Campbell Eliot

Grizz Visser

Harry Bingham

Luke Holbrook

Clark Beecher

Jason Alvarado

Detroit: Become Human:

Gavin Reed

Captain Allen

Connor

Markus

Until Dawn:

Joshua Washington

Michael Munroe

Jessica Riley

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

John Winchester

Lucifer

Gabriel

Michael

Castiel

Crowley

Jack

Marvel (Movie/Show Versions):

Tony Stark

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Brock Rumlow

Loki

Venom/Eddie (Venom 2018/Venom: Let There Be Carnage)

Wade Wilson/Deadpool (Deadpool 2016)

Francis Freeman/Ajax (Deadpool 2016)

Sam Wilson

John Walker

Helmut Zemo

Divergent/Insurgent/Allegiant:

Eric Coulter

Four (Tobias Eaton)

Peter Hayes

The Host:

Kyle O'Shea

Ian O'Shea

Jared Howe

Maze Runner:

Gally

Thomas

Newt

Harry Potter / Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them:

Grindelwald

Percival Graves

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Snowpiercer:

Curtis Everett

Edgar

Franco the Younger

Knives Out:

Ransom Drysdale

Gifted:

Frank Adler

The Red Sea Diving Resort:

Ari Levinson

The Devil All The Time:

Lee Bodecker

Arvin Russell

Preston Teagardin

Roy Laferty

Suicide Squad (2016) & The Suicide Squad (2021):

Colonel Rick Flag

Captain Boomerang (George Harkness)

Peacemaker (Christopher Smith)

Blackguard (Richard Hertz)

Real People

Twenty One Pilots:

Joshua Dun

Tyler Joseph (Blurryface too)

Actors/Actresses:

Chris Evans

Henry Cavill

Sebastian Stan

Jared Padalecki

Mark Pellegrino

Categories

Angst

a little Fluff

Smut

Almost anything really

What I'm willing to write:

Rape/Non-Con

Swearing

Violence

Murder

Abuse

Blood/Gore

Polyamorous Relationships

What I don't do:

Pregnancy

Out-of-character(If something seems ooc for me I will say so while answering the request)

Lots of Fluff (idk I just don't like it too much. You can request the Fluff you want and if it's too much for me, I will say so while answering the request)

Also:

If I really like your idea/request, I may make it into a series or longer and into another idea, but I will tell you beforehand.

I'm not obligated to fulfill your request if I'm not comfortable with it, even if it's not stated here.

I don't shame anyone for anything. You can freely request without being judged, I will just tell you if I don't feel comfortable doing your idea but not judge you for it!

I may do other characters that are not on this list, but that's very rare. Please send in an ask if I do the character you want that's not on this list before sending in your idea. The same is for other fandoms.

And last but not least:

I will do LGBTQ+, however you need to state what you want in the request! For example: If you want the reader to be a gay male, you simply need to write '(Character) x Male!Reader'! If you want a transgender male-to-female reader, write something like '(Character) x mtf!Reader'! If you don't write what you want, I will put female pronouns, as it's easier for me since I'm a female myself.

That was all! Have a nice day and request away!

[rumblelibrary]

Me after reading this

Hii!! First, thank you for letting us enjoy your writing, I absolutely love it!. And for tonight's sleepover (sorry if it seems a bit off, I'll understand if you dont want to write it) but... What about one of Daniel's characters discovering a knife kink, like they love the way reader can defend by themselves, he admires that and can't help but thinking about reader being so dominant, slashing his clothes or their own clothes teasing him. How would they react once reader notices that?

this just SCREAMS sub!zemo at me and hhnng you know I can't say no to that! knife kink obviously but no blood, oral m receiving, premature ejaculation, mention of anal, and lots of teasing c:

Say what you will about EKO Scorpion, but you were a dedicated unit of soldiers. Maybe it was because most of the squadron came from intelligence first, but there was a discipline a lot of other boots-on-the-ground seemed to lack. While they spent their leave in bars and brothels, you were working; all of you were. Training, specifically. Some of the others were training with weights, a few more with guns; but you and the Colonel were on the other side of the barracks, running drills with a much more ancient weapon.

He was there first, you saw him sparring against a dummy with his sabre and you stopped to admire his form for a moment before he caught you watching.

"What a sad little blade you've got there, Lieutenant," he smirked, "it's nothing compared to my broadsword." He waved the weapon in question just for emphasis, and you had to admit he looked pretty good holding it like that.

"It is little, isn't it?" you admitted as you observed the dagger in your hands. "I'm just using it to compensate for my huge dick."

He scoffed but you knew the comment threw him off a little bit. He did a better job than the other men in the unit at ignoring your female-ness, but apparently thinking about whatever was in your pants-- huge dick or otherwise-- wasn't how he expected this conversation to go.

"Spar me?" you suggested.

"Sure, where's your sabre?" he asked.

"No, I'll use this," you clarified, and he seemed both shocked and amused (again).

"Against this?" He waved the sword again.

"Yes! Now will you just get back into form? And try not to stab me too hard?"

He cleared his throat quickly and squared himself up. "No promises," he mumbled.

You made the first move, and though his sword started to come down over you, you were able to catch it in the divot of your dagger's hilt, blocking him so swiftly that he never had a chance to stop you from twisting around and pointing your weapon at his neck, just under his jaw.

He dropped the sword and raised his hands, taking a step back and pressing himself against the wall as you followed him with a raised brow. "Well, that was a bit anti-climactic, huh?" you smirked.

His wide-eyed expression made your heart swell for no good reason at all: here was your Colonel, your commander, someone you looked up to and obeyed without question, looking uncharacteristically submissive-- and not just in general, but to you. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind before, but you liked the rush it gave you.

His gaze glanced down for a second, at himself, and you instinctively followed it; you weren't sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn't an obvious boner pressing up against the inside of his uniform trousers. That's what it had to be, right? What else would have that shape, with the ridge of his head visible through the dark green fabric? It looked thick, too... were you drooling already?

"Okay, maybe not anti-climactic for all of us..." you mumbled.

"Exciting, sure," he awkwardly countered, "but I wouldn't quite call it 'climactic'... yet..."

You grinned and stepped even closer, delicately running the blade over his jaw; he had just enough stubble that you were more likely to give him a sudden shave than to actually cut him. Not that you'd ever want him to shave the stubble, because you secretly loved it. "I can fix that," you whispered. "What was it that got you excited, then, Colonel? The blade, the fight, the way I casually walked in here and kicked your ass?"

"A little bit of everything," he decided after swallowing thickly. "H-how sharp is that, anyway?"

"Really sharp," you promised, moving the blade down lower to run over where his neck met his shoulder. "I could cut you. I should stop then, right? You don't want me to cut you."

"Don't stop," he whispered.

You moved the dagger lower again, this time to the collar of his shirt where you slipped it underneath and started to slowly slice your way down, right through the standard-issue cotton fabric. You mainly just focused on your work but caught a glimpse of his mouth falling slack above you.

You'd seen him shirtless before, you end up seeing your comrades in various states of undress when you're in the field together this long, but it looked different with his chest rising and falling every time he panted, with a thin layer of sweat over the highest point of where his pecs were dusted with blonde-ish-brown-ish hair.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, ghosting the side of the cool metal over his fly and watching him tense up. "Y-you're not gonna cut me there, right?"

"No," you answered, suddenly sliding the shining tip of it right between his legs, where his balls must've been turning blue waiting for you to stop teasing him; he started to creep up onto his tiptoes to avoid getting pricked as you continued, "not if you behave."

You looked up at him expectantly.

"You're going to behave, right?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," he nodded quickly, and it was so odd to hear him say that as if you were his superior. You liked the feeling, though, it made you want this more than ever.

You sliced the button of his fly clean off; you hooked the tip of the blade into the end of his zipper and carefully pulled it down.

"Fuck," you heard him mumble as his cock was freed, looking so lonely and achingly hard. You couldn't even stop yourself from leaning forward and swallowing up the tip of it, hearing him moan and feeling his hands grab at your hair right away.

"Hands to yourself, Colonel," you stopped to correct him quickly, and he slammed his hands back against the wall with all the desperation of a man who would do anything to get you to keep sucking his cock. Thankfully for him you did, running your tongue up under the base of it before suckling at the head once more, going just a bit deeper with each bob of your head.

"Oh god," he groaned, "s-so good, it's so good... please don't stop."

It was the sadist in you that had to stop right then, though you gave him a little mercy by stroking his cock slowly with your free hand while twirling the knife with the other. "How long has it been since somebody got you off, Colonel? Other than yourself."

"Can't even remember," he admitted with a sigh, "even just by myself. You know we can hardly ever get a moment alone in a unit like this. But I know the last time I got off, I was thinking about this."

"This?" you repeated, bewildered.

"Exactly this," he confirmed.

"That's funny, cause the last time I got off, I was thinking about you, too," you grinned.

"Really? You thought about me when you touched yourself?" he smiled.

"I never said I was alone the last time I got off, Colonel," you reminded him. "No, I was with somebody... and while he was fucking me I was imagining how much better you would do it."

"Oh, fuck," he sighed as his head fell back against the wall; you kept stroking him as you started sucking again, bringing the side of the blade up against the crotch of his pants again just to see how he squirmed with his cock still in your mouth. "I'd fuck you so much better, Lieutenant, you know I would... let me show you."

You had to pull off of him before you smiled too hard to keep going. "Oh, Colonel, I don't think that's a good idea. I think I should just keep sucking you off until you come-- shouldn't take you very long, you're already trying not to come all over my face as we speak-- and then leave you be. Keep it simple, you know."

"N-no, I need more, fuck," he hissed.

"No, you definitely don't," you chuckled, "you can come right now, just from this. Is that what you wanna do? You wanna come down my throat right now?"

"No, I wanna see you," he explained, "wanna touch you-- I need to make you come, Lieutenant, it's all I've been thinking about for months."

"Okay, let's make a deal then," you offered. "I'm going to keep sucking your cock and if you can keep from coming for fifteen seconds, you can do whatever you want to me. You can fuck me right here on this floor, you can eat my pussy until I pass out-- you can put it in my ass, if you really want. Whatever you're into, whatever you've been thinking about when you get yourself off."

His eyes were so wide as you said that, you worried they'd just fall out onto the floor.

"But if you come, all you're getting is the memory of this afternoon as material for your pathetic little spank bank of fantasies. Deal?"

He could only nod weakly as he stared down at you.

"Count for me, Colonel," you demanded, hearing him start with 'one' the moment you wrapped your lips around him again.

He almost lost count right away, because clearly he hadn't been expecting you to pull out all the stops-- you sucked hard, you bobbed your head and twisted your hand over his spit-slicked length, you trailed the blade slowly down his thigh through his trousers. "Two, th-three, four, five..." he breathed, whimpering a little when you looked up at him and made a moment of eye contact. "Fuck, uh, six, seven..."

You pressed your tongue against his slit and felt his hand jump up to grab your hair instinctively. You kept sucking and stroking as you circled it with the tip of your tongue, moaning around him even though you hadn't even really meant to.

"Eight, f-fuck... ni-- oh, god!" he groaned, and even you were surprised as you tasted salty, warm come beginning to coat your tongue. He held you down with his grip on the back of your head, cock twitching as streams of come shot to the back of your throat. You almost gagged, but managed to keep it together until he was done, at which point you pulled back and showed him your full mouth before closing and swallowing it in one go.

"Not even ten seconds, Colonel, that's a shame," you grinned, loving how embarrassed and flustered and exhausted he looked, "I was really looking forward to being all yours, however and whenever you wanted me... oh well."

You shrugged and stood up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"You don't last very long in a sparring match, huh?" you chuckled, tossing the blade to him and seeing him fumble but managed still to catch it. "Better luck next time."

You left without another word, though his dumbfounded expression proved he had plenty to say, just no wherewithal to do so. You could only hope that he'd find a chance sometime soon to get his revenge on you, because you were really looking forward to losing your next bet with him.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Interview For Helmut Zemo: Baron Of Sokovia | Dysfunctional Quartet | TFATWS Post Series

Set after the events of TFATWS

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Bucky Barnes x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Helmut Zemo x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious)

Warnings: mentions of past criminal behavior including bombing and terrorism. Mentions of violence and death | This is a little short cause I feel it wouldn’t be hard to convince Zemo.

Premise: In hopes of putting together a team to stop Hydra from gaining power after being underground for almost ten years, CIA Agent Everett Ross interviews two Avengers and two criminals to hopefully complete the mission.

Read y/ns interview

Read Sam & Buckys interview

___

Audio + video file of Case #5130-5400: Interview for Colonel Helmut Zemo: Baron of Sokovia

“Is it already recording?” *off camera*

“Yes, Agent Ross.”

“Good, we can get started then. Have a seat, Zemo.” *takes seat* “You’re probably wondering why you’re here—.”

“It might have crossed my mind once or twice. I wasn’t expecting a call from you so soon, Agent Ross.”

“Yeah, well shit happens. You’re most likely familiar with that—especially given your recent adventures with a couple of Avengers.”

*nods head* “Ahh, I take it you’ve heard.”

“The whole world heard, Zemo. You prancing around Latvia and Madripoor without any care in the world. And we were one of the first to find out about your little escape.”

*shrugs without concern* “I did the job needed so it was all worth it.”

*opens file* “Yeah? I would hold your tongue on that one.” *slides paper* “Take a look at this.”

*pauses to read* “What is the meaning of this?”

“Your little plan to erase Hydra didn’t really work out—we’ve received some interesting intel that leads to the assumption they are currently working under the radar. Technology was stolen at an old base in Siberia—which you’re familiar with Siberia right?—anyway we got a hit on a decrypted firewall and the timing is suspicious.”

*continues to read* “And you think it is Hydra behind this?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. We haven’t had any direct contact with the organization since the Avengers stopped Strucker in twenty-fifteen. After that they became a ghost to us—so it really won’t be shocking if they were working underground in the last decade. After all all their secrets were exposed—they would need to start fresh in a seclusive area.”

*passes back paper* “I’ll admit it’s possible. The thing I’m wondering is why you’ve called me here today to share this information. If it’s anything like with James, you must be out of leads and are in desperate need of help. To come to me of all people, well Agent Ross, I think your little agency is falling behind. Don’t you think?.”

“I would tread carefully with what you say, Zemo. I could be the key to potential freedom.”

*silence* “I’m listening.”

*closes file and opens new one* “There’s no denying you belong in prison for all the damage and pain you’ve caused. It’s because of you the Avengers were dismantled and Wakanda lost their king—they deserve their justice. And maybe if you didn’t succeed in your little petty revenge plot, the blip would’ve never happened because the Avengers would’ve been together in twenty-eighteen to stop Thanos—.”

“I wouldn’t think that far…”

“The point is, you’ve done a lot of shit and should spend the rest of your life locked up.”

*Sighs in annoyance* “I’m very aware, Agent Ross. Can you please get to what you’re about to offer me—I know there has to be one if you’ve brought me here, shared this information, and speaking as though you’re about to start a sentence with ‘but.’

“but…..you know how Hydra works. You studied them, you hunted Barnes’ handler down and killed him, you studied the secrets and files Black Widow leaked and you have a certain distaste for super soldiers.”

“Super soldiers?” *leans forward*

“What you didn’t think that if Hydra has mysteriously reappeared after all these years that they weren’t possibly trying to recreate the super soldier program you destroyed? Not to mention the Power Broker was creating an army with that doctor—you also killed.”

“So what you’re implying is you believe the Power Broker is involved and possibly working with Hydra to create the serum and more super soldiers.”

“It’s likely. But we have no evidence to prove they are in contact. But given the recent leaks in federal intelligence that the Power Broker is receiving—coinciding with this recent development regarding Hydra, it’s just too suspicious for our liking.”

“And you need my help. Don’t you, Agent Ross?”

“To put it short, yes. We do, Zemo. But not just you—we need the help of your old friends, and someone who can break the firewalls we discovered. I know you have some expertise with hacking, but this is beyond your talent so we’ve recruited someone who can access whatever is hidden behind it.” *flips pages* “But you have experience with other things we feel would be beneficial in tracking down possible associates linked to Hydra.”

“By old friends, you mean Samuel and James. Correct?”

“Oh yes, they have the skills and experience needed for this job—and you three are rather well aquatinted. So they will be supervising you on this temporary release we will grant you if you help. Other terms and conditions will be debated at a later time, but if you accept now then you will be moved to another location to wait for orders. In the meantime, you can read up on what we have on recent developments and leads—and maybe get some more knowledge on who you’ll be working with.”

“I know everything there is on Sam and James, Agent.”

“I’m not talking about Sam and Bucky, Zemo. I’m talking about them.” *slides open file* “This is who will be joining you three. Maybe you’ve heard of them—you two have quite the reputation when it comes to doing crimes.”

File #0-114-2600

Y/N M/N L/N: Criminal Hacker and Cyberterrorist

Alias: Hotwire

Languages: English, Spanish, German, & French.

DOB: B/D, B/M 1990 | Place of Birth: Hell’s Kictchen, New York, New York

Family: F/F/L F/L/N (father/deceased), M/F/N M/Maiden/N (mother/deceased), Emilio Davison (uncle/deceased)

Known For: criminal hacking and suspected cyberterroism. L/N was a prominent associate for the underground arms dealer Emilio Davison of Hell’s Kitchen and occasional contact for Mob Kingpin, Wilson Fisk. L/N is suspected of being responsible for more than 300+ government breeches and leaks from 2008-2022 though little to none have been proven.

Known Associates: Wade Wilson a.k.a Deadpool, Jessica Jones, Daredevil (identity unknown), Wilson Fisk a.k.a Kingpin, Emilio Davison (uncle/deceased)

Current Status: Inmate at the Vault serving a sentence of 30 years with possibility of parole.

Criminal Charges: escaping confinement at New York Penitentiary for the 2018 murders of four members of the Ten Rings; alluding federal agencies during duration of the Blip; disabling the security system of the White House and during the attempted kidnapping of the president.

“Woooow, I must say I’m impressed with this, Y/N. I wish I was aware of this person years ago—would’ve saved me some time. Maybe wouldn’t have had to get my hands so dirty.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You two can talk and bond over your criminal hobbies. So what do you say, Zemo? You want to finish what you started and make sure Hydra sees its place on the heap of ashes?”

“Oh, Agent Ross. You wouldn’t have shared this with me if you knew I wouldn’t accept. When do we start?”