#have you ever tried turkish delights? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cazimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik @wonderwoman292

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #i love zemo #tfawts #marvel #daniel brühl #sam wilson #mcu #john walker

2K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || soft!dark baron zemo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : he’s a baron, you’re just the maid. you literally can’t afford to say no to him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (dubcon, oral m receiving, fingering, loss of virginity), innocence kink, ‘sir’ kink, quid pro quo harassment (raise in exchange for sex), zemo being kinda mean but then Soft again c:, slight degradation but it’s not verbal it’s like... with actions?? idk, sensual candy-feeding, more reconstructed sokovian (this time I used the cyrillic, latin and translations at the bottom)

You really, really needed this job.

That was what you reminded yourself when your boss, the Baron himself, came out of the master bathroom in only a robe, carrying a glass of vodka and staring down at where you were cleaning his floor.

He seemed to get a kick out of making you slightly uncomfortable like this, in those little ways that you were too naïve to really understand, but being a member of a Baron’s house staff was an opportunity too prestigious to squander.

Perhaps some would never see a maid’s job as prestigious, but compared to your other options, it was easily the best choice.

You didn’t look back up at him, afraid to see more than you bargained for, but his gaze made you want to tug down on the hem of your dress uniform… yet left you feeling paralyzed so you couldn’t actually do it.

He lingered there, standing right beside where you were polishing the hardwood, and the moment lasted far too long until you just had to say something.

“Should I stop, sir?” you asked awkwardly, your own voice sounding weaker out loud than it did in your head.

“No, keep cleaning,” he encouraged, finally stepping around you to take a seat in his lounge chair.

Even though you felt a bit odd about it, it wasn’t the first time he had watched you clean (just the first time while wearing so little), so you did your best to shrug it off and keep going, which you managed to do for a few minutes.

It got slightly more awkward when the area you had to clean was right by his feet, which made his staring all the more conspicuous as you tried to hold up your neckline so he couldn’t see down the uniform.

A crinkling sound caught your attention, and you looked up to see him toying with a wrapped candy, the lid off of the decorative silver vase on a credenza nearby. You’d always wondered what he kept in there...

He caught you looking, a smirk tugging at his lips as he raised an eyebrow. “A Turkish delight,” he explained as he waved the candy between his fingers. “They’re rather exquisite, and an unfortunate vice of mine. Would you like one?”

It seemed like an offer in earnest though you couldn’t imagine what would motivate him to share candy with his staff. His motives were always quite mysterious anyhow, and you didn’t see any harm in it, so you reached out to him and opened your palm to accept the candy.

He shook his head, his eyes getting a bit darker as their gaze pierced right through you. A sinking feeling filled your gut as you realized what he wanted, and you slowly opened your mouth.

He delicately placed the candy on your tongue, the flavor of the powdered sugar coating hitting you first.

When you closed your lips and hesitantly began to sink your teeth into it, the texture wasn’t what you expected at all— nor the flavor, which you were a little too poor to recognize as rosewater though you still appreciated the delicate floral notes.

It was delightful; you couldn’t help but smile as you continued to chew, and he smiled at you as well— significantly less mischievously than he could have. “Do you like it?” he asked.

You nodded, but froze when he reached up to wipe sugar off your lips with his thumb.

“I suppose you could never afford candy like that before,” he posited, sitting back again.

Swallowing the sticky remains of the sweet, you replied, “I don’t think I could afford it now, either, sir…”

For a second the glimmer in his eye made you wonder if you’d spoken out of turn, and you anxiously looked down to your hands in your lap as he leaned in a bit closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “Maybe you could, if you got a raise, hm?”

Confused about what he wanted from you, you simply nodded slightly.

“Would you like to earn one?”

Suddenly the aftertaste wasn’t so sweet anymore, and you got that strange icky feeling when you knew something was wrong but you didn’t know exactly what. “If… if a raise is a sign of a job well done,” you finally managed to form an answer, “then I’d like to do my job well, sir.”

“You do your job very well,” he assured, “I’m talking about a new job. Consider it… an opportunity for advancement.”

His hand reached down to slip around your wrist, gently pulling you up a bit until you were kneeling between his legs. You jumped a bit when your fingers grazed over his leg, and he kept moving your touch higher as he stared down at you. “I… um, don’t know how to do anything else, sir,” you stalled, heart racing slightly as you watched him guide your hand higher and higher up his leg, under the hem of the fluffy robe, past where you could see.

“I’ll teach you, don’t be afraid,” he whispered right against your ear, and you tried not to be but it was a bit scary when you felt him wrap your hand around his cock, so much warmer than the rest of him and growing harder in your palm.

A little, uneven exhale left your mouth when you didn’t mean it to, and he breathed along with you which helped to calm you slightly. “I’ve never… I don’t…” you stammered. “I’m not good at this.”

“You will be, it just takes practice,” he promised, sounding a bit more hoarse; you felt his precum smear over your fingers as he helped you stroke him, and it made your movements a little easier even if it made your gut twist harder.

He leaned back and relaxed in the chair, letting go of your hand to let you keep going on your own. It gave you a bit more room to breathe, but it left you with no excuse for your actions, no one else to blame when his legs spread and you saw his cock fully hard in all its pride and glory, flexing slightly in your hand whenever you reached the tip and moved back down.

Taking it as a sign you were on the right track, you kept going and occasionally gathered the bravery to look up at his face in search of approval. Each time you found him staring back at you with dark eyes, and it made you feel this most inexplicable feeling… almost like fear, but with something oddly pleasurable about it.

“You can use your mouth now,” he said like it was an offer, an allowance, but you didn’t even really know how to do that. You’d definitely heard about it before, from your more worldly friends, but your cheeks were heating up at the idea of trying and doing it totally wrong.

“Show me how, sir, please,” you requested weakly, and much to your relief he grinned widely.

“Okay, кошеня, I’ll show you,” he breathed, reaching up to cradle your face in his hand and guide you closer. “Open your mouth and I’ll put it in for you.”

You did as you were told even though it was definitely more intimidating this up close, thankful that you didn’t really taste much of anything when he put his swollen head on your outstretched tongue.

“Now close your lips and suck, not too hard, just like a candy,” he explained, hissing when you did your best to recreate what he said. You pulled back right away with wide eyes, thinking you might have hurt him.

“Am I doing it right?” you asked quickly. He seemed a bit irritated as he pulled you back down roughly, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

“Yes, you can’t stop until I tell you,” he explained. You wanted to apologize but that would’ve required stopping, too, so you just kept going and humming a bit whenever you tasted that slight saltiness at the back of your throat. “Блять, that’s right, see? I knew you’d be a quick learner.”

Happy to hear you were doing it properly, you sucked a bit harder and kept your lips slack so he could bob your head however he wanted.

When the tip bumped into the back of your throat, you gagged right away and figured you were definitely doing something wrong. But either he didn’t notice or didn’t mind, because he made you do it again and again— perhaps he even liked it, considering you heard a tense groan from above you and felt him hold your face a bit tighter.

“I’m going to come, кошеня,” he grunted, “and you need to swallow it all, okay? It’s worth a lot more than that expensive candy, I assure you. But don’t swallow it until I say so.”

You tightened your fingers where they clutched his thigh, since you couldn’t respond any other way. Not being able to breathe was beginning to make you light-headed, and the sounds of his quiet moans made a rare (but not entirely unfamiliar) feeling burn between your legs.

He swore a few more times, sometimes in English and sometimes in Sokovian, as he roughly used your mouth, and you didn’t realize he was coming until you felt it all threatening to spill out from your lips and around his member.

But you, being diligent as ever, were careful not to let a drop go to waste as he sighed and slowed down, guiding you slowly off of him.

As tempting as it was to swallow it already, especially since the taste was a little odd, you kept your lips sealed tight and blinked up at him, hoping the tears running down your cheeks wouldn’t bother him and waiting for further instruction.

“Open your mouth, show me,” he breathed, nostrils flaring as if he was angry (though you really hoped he wasn’t). He groaned proudly when you did so, sticking your tongue out and letting his seed gather there. “Блять, good job… you can swallow it now.”

You put your tongue back and swallowed, but you were a bit too slow and some of it dripped onto the floor first. He leaned forward slightly to look at it, tutting disapprovingly.

“That just won’t do, you need to clean that up,” he explained. You turned back to reach for your cleaning supplies but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “No, sweetheart, not like that. With your mouth, same way you made the mess..”

“Oh,” you whispered, leaning down and lapping up the drops with your tongue, noticing that it was a bit closer to room temperature now which made it taste worse such that your nose crinkled at the flavor. Still, you swallowed it, too, and sat back up to look at him.

You wanted to ask if you did well, but considering the way he was smiling at you while he caught his breath, his exposed chest rising and falling along with that necklace he seemed to wear all the time, made you confident enough that he was happy with your work, and you smiled slightly.

“I think you’ve almost earned your raise,” he broke the silence, and your smile fell. There’s more?! “Why don’t you get up and bend over the bed.”

Your throat was a little sore now, so your shocked and empty swallow stung a bit, but you couldn’t help it; for all your inexperience you had a few ideas about what that meant.

“Sir, I—”

“Did I not speak clearly?” he snarled, making you cower slightly. “Get up. And bend over the bed. Pull up that little skirt for me, too.”

Even though an uncomfortable shudder crawled up your spine, you nodded and stood up, finding your legs a bit shakier than they should’ve been.

You’d made his bed a thousand times but never thought to lay on it, so you felt a little strange bending yourself over the edge, and you tried to avoid meeting his gaze as you reached back to pull your uniform up to your hips. You heard him hum but didn’t hear him get out of the chair, and you wondered if he was going to do anything at all.

“Are you… just going to look?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” he answered quickly, “I’m going to fuck you. But I’m going to do it on my own time. You can wait.”

And he sure did take his time, eating one more candy and finishing off his tumbler of vodka before he finally stood up and shed his robe; you felt his hands on your butt first, fingertips slipping under your panties delicately only to roughly tear them off. You squealed slightly at that, biting your lip to keep it down, but he heard you and chuckled as he slapped your bare ass.

“I knew you were hiding something lovely underneath your uniform, кошеня,” he sighed, “I may need to make sure you never hide yourself from me again. I always wanted to make you clean the house naked.”

Another spank made you wince and lurch forward, but another pang of heat hit between your legs, too— you hadn’t expected to enjoy this so much, but after all the anticipation you just needed him to get it over with.

Even if you honestly didn’t know that much about the ‘it’ he intended to do to you.

“How much do you know about sex?” he asked bluntly, apparently reading your mind somehow.

“Sex,” you repeated shakily, “is… something husbands and wives do…”

“Right,” he agreed, “but is that all you know? Do you even know how good you can feel?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, reaching down to slide his fingers slowly over your pussy, your legs quivering right away. When he focused on one spot, rubbing in circles gently, your back arched of its own accord.

“Have you ever touched yourself here? Made yourself come?” he continued, pressing down a bit harder until you whimpered.

“N-no, sir,” you breathed, squirming as you felt yourself approaching the edge of… something, something you never knew you needed.

But of course, he had to stop just then and push his two fingers inside you as you cried out. “Just that hurts you?” he realized, watching you nod and pout. “Oh, кошеня, you have no hope of taking my cock… you may not be able to get your raise after all.”

“Please, sir,” you whimpered, “I can take it, I’ll be good— please…”

He twisted his fingers inside you and your legs quivered but you were determined to prove you could do this, so you ignored the sting and kept on breathing, hardly capable of believing how deep his fingers reached.

A third finger made your eyes start to roll back in your head, especially when all of them curled against a spot that made your toes curl inside the sensible heels you were made to wear at work each day. Oddly enough, you found yourself rocking back onto his fingers in search of more, wanting him to push harder on that spot until you could finally reach that feeling you were blindly searching for.

“You need it so badly, кошеня,” he growled, “I’m trying to be gentle with you. Is that not what you want?”

“J-just a little more, please,” you begged, whining when he instead pulled them all out and left you painfully empty.

“I’ll give you more, don’t you worry about that,” he promised cryptically, and you gasped at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your opening. You were so wet that as he slid his length over your folds, you coated him with your arousal in mere moments. “I think you’re ready for me, sweetheart.”

You, meanwhile, weren’t so convinced; your gut sank as you tried to imagine how something as thick as his cock would ever fit inside you, but he didn’t consult your opinion on the matter before he lined himself up and pushed forward.

He was kind enough to move slowly, leaning down to wrap your body in his as he filled you. His hands slipped around and clutched yours, and you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was meant to soothe or restraint you.

“Бля, ти така гарна,” he breathed, squeezing your fingers between his. You turned to rest your face on the silky comforter, a tear still making its way down your cheek which he tenderly kissed away. “Don’t cry, it’s all right,” he whispered. “I’m not going to move yet, just breathe. It’s not going to hurt much longer.”

Tightening your jaw and breathing through your teeth was the best you could manage at the time, trying your best to relax since every time you tensed up, it hurt more.

“Так тугий,” he hissed against your ear as he finally found the end of you and his hips met the back of your legs, “і все моє.”

He stayed still until the pain faded, though you still winced slightly when he eventually did move again, pulling back only to push forward and fill you deeper, if possible, than before.

You felt him hitting that spot again, the one he found with his fingers before, and your whines started to soothe into moans and gasps.

“See? I knew you would like it,” he whispered proudly, “I knew you’d take me so well.”

He trailed kisses in abstract patterns over your neck and shoulders, gentle at first but soon enough becoming wet and sharp with his tongue and teeth, the pace of his thrusts picking up along with it.

“Так добре, така добра дівчина,” he groaned, “fuck, do you feel how deep am I inside you, sweetheart? That’s how deep my come will be when I’m finished.”

Honestly, it was starting to feel so good that you couldn’t find the will to protest that.

“And then you’ll be mine forever,” he added, under his breath, so quiet that you could barely hear it. But you did hear it, and you couldn’t explain why it made you moan louder, or made your walls grip him encouragingly.

Your toes curled again, your legs even started kicking a bit, when he slammed into you every time, the sound of his skin on yours and of your drenched channel being filled echoing around the ornate bedroom. Thoughts of everything wrong about this were banished as your mind became a blank slate, you couldn’t even form words anymore (not that you were trying to) as your mouth fell slack and your body became a pliant vessel for his desire.

The edge was so close now, and you wondered if you should try to stave it off— but before you could even consider it, he bit down on your shoulder and you were pushed right over all at once, gasping his name as pleasure overtook you from your head to your toes.

“Good girl, keep going,” he instructed roughly, “don’t stop coming for me.”

You couldn’t if you tried.

Tears fell again, but for entirely different reasons than the first two times. He whispered praises in your ear, in a few languages you understood and a few you didn’t, keeping you falling into it as long as he wanted you to. You were so helpless to him now, your body going limp and your eyes fluttering shut, and you didn’t even mind it at all.

It went on for quite some time, it seemed, and though his stamina was impressive it was entirely unnecessary since you had already exhausted yourself of whatever maximum number of orgasms you could have in a row.

Finally, his desperation started to kick in and you could feel him getting rougher and losing his rhythm as his moans got louder yet deeper. “I’m about to fill you up, кошеня, are you ready?”

You barely managed to nod through the fog, and it only took him a few more seconds before he squeezed your hands just a bit too tight and stopped moving. There was a little delay before you felt the heat of it inside you, the feeling impossible to describe but instantly addictive. As if you weren’t already feeling full before, now you felt stuff to the brim, and even when he pulled out you could still feel it— even when most of it seemed to drip down your thighs.

“There you go again, making another mess,” he sighed, “and this time on such a lovely comforter… I won’t make you lick it up this time, you look too pretty laying there fucked-out and braindead.”

Those words probably should’ve encouraged you to move and prove him wrong, but instead you were happier than ever to just lay there and soak in the afterglow.

He laid beside you on the bed, pulling your body to rest on top of his, stroking your hair while he caught his breath. “You won’t just be getting a raise, sweetheart, but a very important promotion,” he mumbled.

As enticing as that sounded, up until that moment you’d forgotten about the raise entirely.

кошеня = kitty/kitten

��лять - fuck

Бля, ти така гарна = fuck, you’re so beautiful

Так тугий, і все моє = so tight, and all mine

Так добре, така добра дівчина = so good, such a good girl

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #dark!baron zemo x reader

2K notes · View notes

silverhallow · 2 years ago

Note

Do you have any pregnant Sophie HCs? (Other than the widely accepted ones 😄) I don't feel like I see people mention often things like cravings, or how Sophie felt or how Benedict treats her so I was just curious what you think!

Okayyyyyy pregnant Sophie headcanons here we go!

Sophie gets really bad morning sickness with the boys but it’s nothing compared to the sickness with Violet.

Literally 80% of foods turns her stomach and for the first three months of her last pregnancy she’s eating bland toast and can’t even tolerate sugar in her tea.

Her cravings vary from baby to baby. With Charlie she craves fruit. Strawberries and bananas mostly and very weirdly… peas! (The peas not so weird when we learn later what he becomes 😂)

Alex it’s all sugary treats. Shortbread biscuits. Turkish delight anything sugar.

William is a bit more relaxed, less sugar but tart things. Lemons and the like. Benedict comes home one day and sees her eating slice of lemon like it’s an orange.

With Violet she can’t bare food the only thing she craves is her husband.

Whilst she’s always been horny when pregnant when she’s carrying Violet it’s like another level. Benedict actually worries he’s gonna break. Not sure if he’ll break his tongue or his cock but something is defo going to break if it doesn’t calm down soon!

He accidentally makes Sophie cry when he complains about it to Anthony not realising Sophie heard every word…

Sophie’s rage when pregnant is some rather magnifient to behold. She rarely shouts but she loses her temper one day when pregnant with Charlie, Colin and Anthony teasing her over something trivial and she has them both as a cowering mess before she’s even finished her tirade.

Then bursts into tears to really confuse her brothers in law.

Kate assumes they made her cry and gives them what for as does Benedict. Only to realise they’ve just been bollocked by three people…

Benedict does everything he can to try and make Sophie’s life easier whilst she’s pregnant with Charlie

He rubs her feet and her back and does everything he thinks she wants to him to do. Trying to fix everything last little thing and all Sophie wants to do is complain, have a cuddle and leave it be.

So he inadvertently over does it and Sophie just can’t handle it anymore and Kate has to explain to him that Sophie doesn’t want him to fix everything but just listen (think Chris with Ann in Parks and Rec)

He learns when she’s pregnant the second time he always offers to rub her feet and her back and carry her to bed when she’s tried. Ask first and save a ringing ears from the yelling then tears.

Whenever she yells at someone she always bursts into tears immediately after.

Sophie always ends up huge, given her petite stature due to her malnutrition, despite her curves she always looks like ballon and feels like it. She waddles when she walks and hates her ankles and her boobs! Jesus Christ she wants to rip them off her body even if her husband can’t stop staring at them…

She feels constantly exhausted and drained and whenever anyone says she’s glowing she says “you try throwing up 10 hours a day. It’s sweat not a glow!”

Kate loves pregnant Sophie’s sass but not when it’s directed directly at her.

Violet finds it hilarious and the Bridgerton’s aren’t ever sure which Sophie they’re going to get and Benedict loves it!

The only two people Sophie doesn’t ever snap at throughout any of her pregnancies are Hyacinth and Violet.

#ask ash #bridgerton #sophie beckett #ash’s headcanons #benedict bridgerton #benophie #ash’s asks and answers

29 notes · View notes

mcloren · 2 years ago

Note

top 5 f1 fics 🏎🏎 (or if you've already answered this top 5 non-f1 fics)

truly do not know what is or isnt in the spirit of this game so i'll do both! this took SO long. also i've tried my best to tag people's accounts if i know them, but if i've missed anything pls let me know so i can edit it :)

favourite f1 fics:

slow show by ambiguouspace -- the first f1 fic i read! so delightful and fun and lovely!!

myth of devotion series by @prettydangrotten & @rosyjuly -- i'm so hooked on this series and it makes me SO sad but i love it so much. i'm checking every day to see if there's an update it's so so good

keystrokes by @ladyeggplant -- i went on my ao3 history to see how many times ive reread it and honestly the number was like. significantly higher than 60, ao3 needs to get rid of that feature immediately it is deeply embarrassing. a perfect fic. i think about daniel getting his tie stuck in a printer so much

striving for goodness while the cruel men win by @misonikomi -- this is one of the best fics i've ever read and hands down the best rule 63 fic i've ever read. lewis is so beautifully written

good to you by @catofthecanals289 -- incredible, enlightening, occasionally i will reread from the party where max speaks to sylvie again just to get sad! normal stuff!

favourite non-f1 fics:

Good News (is on the way) by derryere (Merlin/Arthur)-- possibly the best fic i have ever read. it is incredible. no magic modern au that is so so perfect and has such a like. beautiful ending that is so perfect for the merlin and arthur they wrote

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson) -- one of the funniest fics i've ever read. sam gets jealous and so he pretends to have a superpower: talking to birds. and then he ends up actually being able to talk to birds. ridiculous and hilarious and lovely.

By Brave Assent by awkwardsorta (Dele/Eric Dier) -- apologies to my football oomfs but they were It :( rip dele he's not dead he's just playing in the turkish league. tb to the world cup when they were like. ridiculously and unbearably gay every time they were together. dele pulling eric out from the entire team after he scored the winning penalty so he could hug him on his own :( giving eric a shirt so he didn't have to do the postgame interview shirtless and trying to actually dress eric :( no one did it like them

Dying to Return by StormDancer (Merlin/Arthur) -- another merthur fic i'm sorry i love them :( this is so good and lovely :( merlin's cool as fuck in this too

depending how you feel about baseball by theundiagnosable (Kyle Dubas/William Nylander) -- i am an absolute sucker for both amnesia fic and also pairings that really play up the power dynamics aspect and this does both SO well. theundiagnosable a genius of our time etc etc. also one of the few hockey rpf fics i still reread

#asks #fic rec

13 notes · View notes

eddysocs · 2 years ago

Text

To Feel Human (Helmut Zemo x OC)

Summary: A moment of compassion turns into something neither Riva nor Zemo had anticipated, but what this means for them now is complicated to say the least.

Word Count: 1,037

Warnings: Touch Starvation, Lightly Referenced Smut

The blaring sun streaming in from the narrow basement window hit Riva's eyes as she tried to open them. Pulling the covers over her head to block it out gave her pause. She always closed the curtains in her bedroom, so why was the sun so bothersome this morning? The answer to her question came in the form of the body shifting beside her under the sheets. She was not in her own bed. Pulling the covers back, she squinted against the light and rolled over where the sleeping, peaceful face of Helmut Zemo greeted her. Just as she’d feared.

Even with the offensive light at her back now, Riva's head pounded. The night before her came back in pieces. Zemo complaining about his captivity, saying that staying under her care was no better than prison had been. She had argued with him at the time, but had also seen his point at being constricted to a highly secured basement all day and night. As she focused on the memory, it began to come back more clearly.

"There’s a club down the block," she’d informed, her own version of extending an olive branch, trying to prove that she wasn’t the bad guy here.

"That is nice," Zemo remarked with a nose in a book. He was not taking the bait, yet Riva knew he could tell what she was doing.

Riva heaved a irritated sigh. "If you promise to behave, I’ll take you."

Zemo's eyebrow quirked. "You mean that? No tricks? No secret agenda you’re not informing me of?"

"I mean it. The whole point of my mission isn’t to keep you cooped up in a secure underground facility. It’s to integrate you back into society. And a club…wouldn’t be the worst test run."

"Much appreciated," Zemo thanked, though his words were laced with a light dose of sarcasm to them.

When they arrived, Riva sat at the bar, leaning back against it and keeping her eye on Zemo as he ordered a drink and went out to enjoy his freedom, however long it would last. He danced, and despite her intent to remain serious and uncaring, she couldn’t quite help but laugh. It wasn’t that he was awful, but he wasn’t great either. It just struck her as funny to see him in that context. When Zemo caught her smiling in his direction, he’d taken it as an invitation to approach and try to persuade her onto the dance floor.

She protested, but her heart wasn’t entirely in it. Surely she could keep watch of him and have a little fun herself. That decision was what had started it all. She danced with him for several songs. He bought her a drink. Then two. Then three. Finally, she was having fun. Real fun. Fun unlike any she'd had in years. She’d been so dedicated to her work for so long that it felt good to move freely, to indulge herself without having to think of every detail and its potential consequences.

Only she should have thought about the consequences. It was late when they left, or early, depending on how one views time. It was just after two o'clock in the morning when they made it back home on unsteady legs. Zemo was bright eyed and alive, the happiest she’d ever seen him. And maybe that’s why she lingered in his underground bunker with him when she delivered him back to it. Maybe that’s why she’d let him kiss her.

She shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But his hand had cupped her face so gently, so tenderly that she couldn’t find it in her heart to turn away from him. She melted into his kiss, the taste of his lips a mix of brandy and Turkish delights, which she always kept well stocked for him. And that’s when her memory blurs again. Clothes came off, hands glided across skin and he was soft, so soft with her. She didn’t think him capable of such gentleness. And yet here, asleep right next to her, she could believe it wholly.

Her headache persisted, dull and draining, yet the pounding at least had subsided. She closed her eyes, still too tired to get up despite her own advice to herself about leaving before Zemo should wake to still find her there. She was too alert to be able to fall back asleep easily, so she laid there, contemplating her next move.

Another rustle of sheets came but a moment later as Zemo groaned and stretched. Riva hoped for him to continue his slumber so as not to have to face him, but she was unlucky.

"Good morning, dumpling," he rasped, voice heavy with sleep, but nonetheless as teasing as she’d always known it to be. A cheeky smile played on his features, and Riva had to go before she fell for it again.

"Don’t call me that," she snapped, turning away from him, trying to conceal her true emotions with anger. It was a play she'd made many times so she was good at it.

But she didn’t plan for Zemo to reach out and grab her wrist. "I’m sorry," he apologized, sincerely, she recognized when she caught the look in his eye after turning back to him. "Will you stay?"

The question took her by surprise. They weren’t dating, they weren’t friends, and even on their better days the best they could manage was a cool civility. Yet he wanted her to stay? And she was actually thinking about it. "Please," he added, sensing her hesitancy. Was he really this lonely? Was she?

Riva let out a breath, not quite a sigh, and slunk back into bed. Zemo put his arm around her shoulders and let her sidle up to him, head on his chest. They didn’t speak. No words that could be said seemed right for their situation. Laying there, skin on skin, under the comfort of sheets warmed by their shared body heat, they silently appreciated one another's company. What this would mean for them going forward was undecided. In the moment they didn’t want to make any more of it than it was. Now, they were just two people in need of human touch.

Riva Braun: @adrianas-ocs-and-such, @dollvi3e, @borg-queer, @chickensarentcheap, @smutember

#oc: riva braun #fc: cote de pablo #fd: marvel #riva x helmut #smutember #smutember 2022

7 notes · View notes

littlebird616 · 3 years ago

Text

Zemo left his little bird in prison

Based upon this tiktok I've made. _________________________________

People always wonder how you don’t get crazy. Truth is, you do. Life within four walls is draining. Anyone telling you something else is lying. Nobody knew that better than you. You had told yourself you would stop, behave and not listen to the voices in your head, but it had become impossible. That’s why you're still here, hanging on a thin thread inside your prison cell, talking to yourself. Or whatever voice that keeps you entertained. You fear becoming crazy, that’s fun, and you need to have fun to survive. Right now, life isn't that thrilling. You couldn’t help wondering, if life isn’t fun, what’s the point of living?

The voices recently came back. Shock, you haven’t always been like this. What happened was a tragedy. The kind the whole country should’ve grieved, but instead it was only you eating his Turkish Delight inside your own prison cell. You don’t even like Turkish delight, but that was the only thing he left for you. You tried to stop yourself from thinking of him, you didn’t want to give him that power. You're over him. You have already forgotten about his hazel brown eyes, his broad shoulders, and irritating smile.

You have no memory of him. You deleted them actually. You don’t even remember his way with words. The way he always had to be the smartest in the room. He used to say you needed to read more books, and you did, or… you let him read them to you. The last one he read before he left was quite entertaining. It was called, ‘The No in Love: Demaraction and devotion in the erotic relationship.’ You loved it, most of all because you got to listen to his dark, husky voice for hours whisper the most erotic words you can imagine. He tried to tell me that it was an important point behind the book, but you forgot the second he called you his little bird.

How can you even be his, when he’s not here. He is a bad, bad man. Leaving his bird to fly alone. Who does that? Leave their pet alone? It’s evil. He is evil, and you have no time for his sins. After all, you're wearing white. You're pure, you're innocent. Moving between the fabrics, elegant, alone. You're fine. You're fine. You're fine, without him.

In the distance you could hear heavy footsteps. They might be far away, but by the sound of their steps you could count four men walking towards you. You should’ve probably jumped down, and sit nicely on the floor, but you're not their pet, are you?

“Baa baa black sheep, do you think i’m a fool?” You begin to sing to the beat of their footsteps.

“Yes, sir, yes sir,

You think I’m dumb,

Listen to the guard,

Listen to the dame,

Follow what the baron say-”

You stopped dead in your tracks, not a note came out of your mouth. The steps came closer, and they sounded differently. One of them wasn't on beat with the others. One was the odd one out. You could feel your skin crawl. The odd one out sounded familiar. Heavy. Like he had the weight of the world wrapped around his broad shoulders. You didn’t dare… dare to hope. It couldn’t be.

“How have you been, my little bird?” A dark husky voice said as he revealed himself from the corner. A smug smile on his face, trying to save face from the embarrassment of the guards pushing him inside his old cell. They uncuffed his hands. You had often casted a glance at his hands… His fingers. A human being is allowed to dream. It was too bad the two of you were locked up in a high security prison. The only thing we had in here was dreams.

“Look at who’s back in prison,” you said with the biggest smile on your lips. You leaned forward, trying to get a better look of him,

“You always thought you were the shit,” you said with a laugh, as a smile appeared on his lips. He turned around so you were finally able to see his hazel brown eyes again. Oh, they made prison feel like home.

“Did you miss me?” You asked, playfully.

“You know, no guy has ever come back for me, I’m starting to believe that what we have is special, baron” You add on, telling nothing but the truth.

“You talk too much,” he said.

You could feel his eyes scanning your body. You missed being seen, desired. He was the only man inside the prison who made you feel this way. Special. All the thinking inside your cell, all your dreams… and fantasies, he was the face that appeared. You knew deep down, even if he wouldn’t admit to it at first, you were in his too. It was what made the games between you fun. You wanted to remind him of how special his bird was. You let your body fall in the fabric, hanging upside down in a split, before you jump down and let go of the fabric. You run towards the metal ceilings, leaning your heads towards it.

“Zemo has been a bad, bad boy,” you said like you were talking to a baby with a sad pouty face.

It felt good simply to say his name again, loud. Not an annoying voice, but someone you could physically place in front of you. It made him feel good too. He had missed the sound of your voice, however irritating you could be. He chuckled as he laid down on his bed.

“Don’t worry, I like them!” You shouted, to make sure that he heard you.

“I know you do,” he said with a smug smile as he closed his eyes. If only he could share his bed with you.

#zemo #baron zemo #y/n #baron zemo x you #baron zemo imagine #daniel bruhl #marvel #mcu #captainamerica #tfatws #helmut zemo

19 notes · View notes

tnystrk-exe · 4 years ago

Text

Repentance

Your choices led you here.

AN: Honestly I couldn’t get the idea for the last scene out of my head.

“Alright team,” you heard Cap through your ear piece, “time to go home.”

And you did. Without a second thought.

Tony had sent out a relief squad and different aids for people. He had hoped to help. There was no after party this time around. But you understood why. Especially after finding him in his lab, staring longingly at a bottle of scotch, a screen of names scrolling past. The mission had put him through enough to want to cancel his promise of good behavior.

You walked over to him. Replacing the bottle with a cup of coffee you had brought down. “Tony, you did what you thought was right.”

“That’s not enough for them… their families. For what? A fucking whim of ours?”

“I know,” you sighed, walking over to a sink and pouring out the bottle, “I think about it too. What we could have done. What shouldn’t have. But in the moment with you, Bruce, and I all in the lab it felt right.”

“You saw the recording of New York. How couldn’t I try, something? Anything.”

A shiver went up your spine as you remembered the helmet’s footage. As much as the team had done. It would have all been over if that ship had touched ground. “We need protection,” you confirmed, “but maybe not an A.I.. Honestly, we’re probably just going to have to rely on finding good people. You should look for them instead of…”

“Are you still going to that memorial?”

“Yeah, but not as an Avenger.”

Then it all happened. After Sokovia, you all knew in a way that pulling at the right thread would tear the fabric of the team apart. Too many conflicting thoughts. Placing blame on one another. The Accords. Not wanting to be held down by a contract even though you could work your way through to the top if you could play your cards right.

None of you had ever imagined it would end like this. Broken apart. Teared open and bruised.

You had found Tony using the suites intertwined tracking systems. A tape played on repeat. The Winter Soldier, murdering two people. On a second viewing, you finally realized who exactly they were. Bile rose up your throat, you needed to find him. That just left finding him as Steve had left him. Cut up, tears- that you wouldn’t dare mention- streaked his face as he angrily shoved off pieces of his suit. A wound he had tried desperately to heal ripped open again with betrayal to act as salt.

You didn’t take away his bottle that night. Hell, you joined him.

“I’m still against this, YN,” Tony sighed, looking at you with that tired look of his, “Why?”

“I don’t know, Tone. It just feels like something I need to do. For myself more than anything.” You placed the last of your things in the suitcase. “As much as I hate what he’s done. There are things I can understand.”

“He broke us apart.”

“We were already divided. As much as we tried to be a family, do all this shit together… The second there was pressure we went into our normal fractions. Honestly, it’s a damn wonder we trusted Double Agent over there.”

He nodded, understanding that you had made a couple of points. “That was a bad call, but hey you can’t win everytime. ...I’m glad you chose this side if anything.”

“Yeah sap, what would I do without your cash?” You joked, “We’re in this together old man. Thick and thin. You know that. Anyways, by the time I come back, I fully expect a ring on Pep’s finger.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hap’s been waiting for you for the past hour. Get going, come back safe and all that jazz.”

Walking through the prison was nerve wrenching. Honestly, even though you had planned out the trip, you really didn’t expect him to agree to the visitation. You followed the guard down the long, dim corridors, not knowing exactly what you’d do or why you were there.

“Here you are. Everything is being monitored.” With that he opened the door and slammed it shut behind you.

“Zemo,” you greeted when you laid sight on the man.

“Avenger,” he said it more as an insult, “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“I owe you an apology,” you stated simply, “I really am. What you went through, it wasn’t anything I expected to happen.”

“I can accept it if that's what you wish, however what use does it have for me, really? You people do as you wish without a thought of what happens to others. People get hurt and killed. Then you’d all go home, back to your obnoxious towers and celebrate that none of you were killed. How many have taken your place?”

“That’s fair,” you nodded, looking at the ground, “I deserve that.”

“Did you celebrate the destruction Tony Stark created?”

You laughed humorlessly, “He always gets all the credit for that, probably because of the tin foil wrapping. It’s a shared burden, I’m afraid, Bruce and I worked just as hard to create Ultron. No. We didn’t celebrate.”

“Then we’re even. You took my family, I tore yours apart.”

“It’s not the first I’ve lost. Knowing my luck it isn’t the last.”

He tilted his head, signaling you to go on.

“We were some dumb kids at the time, maybe 16 or so. The community we lived in was an absolute shithole. Things would get swept under the rug. People would get hurt, killed, used for fun, just because that’s what people felt like doing. So what are a group of good for nothing orphans going to do, none of us really had much hope. We became vigilantis of sorts using ourselves as bait regularly. Did what we had to do. But we were young, dumb and things always have a way of catching up with you.”

“I’m very sorry for the pain you experienced in your youth.”

“Like you said…” you shook away the memories,you weren’t here to rehash those years, “The point is Zemo, I need you to know I do feel for you. I’ve looked into you and you were a good man, probably still are under all the pain. When we made Ultron we had hopes for the best, after what happened in 2012, we all knew something bigger would happen. Tony and I share that, we get paranoid, but how can’t you be when shit hits the fan like that,” you snapped, “It was just a matter of how, when, if we’d be prepared… and in all of that we failed. So honed in to the details of what we could do, we were blinded to what we would cause. Zemo, no amount of forgiveness would ever clear me of the guilt of just how badly we failed you.”

Zemo stared at you, searching for any sign that this was all just a show. When he finally decided you were sincere he gave you a nod.

“There’s something I want to ask of you…”

That’s how you found yourself in Zemo’s family grave. Each step brought you closer to three of the deaths you helped cause. His son was in between his wife and father. The bag of sweets at your side was held limply as you found your way to the right grave.

“Hey, buddy,” you set the Turkish delights on the grave, “Your father said he’s sorry, he couldn’t do this for you this year. But don’t worry, I’ll pick it up for him.”

A shuddered breath escaped you as you thought about the child in the ground. Only able to conjure up a picture of a younger looking Helmut Zemo. A soft round face, light brown hair that was combed neatly just to be messed up seconds later, eyes that questioned everything in the world around him. He should’ve been wreaking havoc, running throughout the home with his father chasing after the excited child. Instead of here, where your choices had placed him.

Sitting down on the ground you fished out the book Zemo had instructed you to get, “Now, I believe your father said he had been really excited to read this one to you. It was one of his favorites.”

#Helmut zemo #tfatws #helmut Zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader

295 notes · View notes

fireinmoonshot · 4 years ago

Text

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART FOUR

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave. Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2,769 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. A/N: Thank you all for the lovely response yet again! I really appreciate it. We're getting into Episode 4 now, so if you've not seen it yet make sure you don't read this chapter or you'll spoil yourself! Please let me know your thoughts, though. I really liked how this chapter turned out and I tried to make it so it didn't read like I was just writing the episode out word for word so I hope it's okay!

Zemo’s apartment was, at least, comfortable. As soon as you’d arrived Sam had settled in and gotten himself a drink and Zemo had excused himself to shower. You’d gone for a wander around the place, trying to get your bearings. It’d been a while since you’d been out of Madripoor and it felt a little like the ground had just been ripped up from underneath your feet. It was undoubtedly going to take some getting used to. Then, with what Bucky had said in the street. You were overthinking and you knew it, but he’d been right. You hated that he’d been right.

A change of clothes and freshening up in one of the bathrooms the place had done at least some of the job in helping you feel settled in, and by the time you re-enter the living room Bucky’s back, the Dora Milaje is after Zemo and the news that Karli bombed a GRC supply depot has broken.

You settle on one of the seats beside Sam with a glass of water and a heavy heart. Zemo is talking about how he personally believes Karli is a supremacist, but you can’t get your mind off of how three people had died and eleven more had been injured at the GRC supply depot bombing. You have a feeling that more people are going to end up dead if you don’t act soon, and fast.

“She will not stop,” Zemo says. “She will escalate until you kill her.”

You zone back into the conversation, taking a long sip of your drink.

“Or she kills you.”

“How unbelievably morbid of you,” you mutter.

Bucky glances at you and Sam even huffs out what you think could be a laugh.

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve,” Bucky says.

“Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

You can’t disagree with him. These people – Karli, her super soldiers. You know that they’re not trying to be Steve Rogers. They’re anything but. But you also know that John Walker, where-ever he is, whoever he is, isn’t qualified for the job either.

Bucky sighs and makes to walk away from the three of you and head toward the couch, looking for a well deserved seat. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.”

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo replies, staring into a cabinet and not even bothering to give Bucky a glance.

“Yes.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

Sam rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the both of them. He says something, you vaguely hear something about his ‘TT’, though you don’t listen to the words. Instead, you stare into your drink, swirling the water around in the cup.

It’s not the first time you wonder if you’ve made a mistake my coming along with Sam, Bucky and Zemo. It’s not like Sharon gave you a choice, but you know that you could have insisted that you not come along. But now you’re wondering even more as you sit in Zemo’s living room, listening to the three men concoct a plan without even needing to consult you. Three men – a criminal, one that doesn’t trust you and one that you just don’t understand at all. You feel out of place among them.

You push yourself up and out of your chair, leaving your water behind on the table, and head towards the hallway that’ll lead you to the room Zemo told you that you could use. Bucky watches as you go, wondering if he should call out and ask you where you’re going, though he hesitates for too long and by that time, you’re out of sight. Sam watches him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Bucky looks at him.

“You, staring at her like that. Are you in cahoots or something? I saw you talking on the street. Hell, you stopped to talk to her. What’s that about?”

Bucky scoffs. “In cahoots? Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly.”

“Yeah, you know what else is deadly?”

“What?”

“Karli if we don’t hurry up and get some information on Donya Madani.” Bucky stands up and heads towards the bathroom. “As soon as I’m done, we’re heading out.”

Sam shakes his head and mutters “Who made you boss?” under his breath.

Bucky hears him. “I did!”

***

You’re not quite sure what you expect to find, but it’s certainly more than you’re leaving with. Bucky is standing and staring at Zemo and a group of children when you and Sam rejoin him. You’d gone upstairs with him, having decided on the journey there to at least try with him, and if he still refused to trust you, you’d give up. Or perhaps you wouldn’t. You hadn’t quite decided yet.

Bucky looks at you as you stand beside him, hands tucked firmly into the pockets of your jacket to shield them from the cool breeze. You hadn’t said much to him since he’d joined you at Zemo’s apartment after your talk on the street, and honestly he didn’t expect you to. He didn’t even really know what to say to you, so he’d figured he’d not even bother breaching the topic. If you wanted to talk about it, you would.

You stare ahead at Zemo, eyes narrowed. He’d been a little anxious about you going upstairs with Sam alone, even though he knew deep down that Sam wasn’t going to do anything, especially to Sharon’s friend.

“Someone needs to teach those children not to talk to strangers,” you mutter.

Sam snorts.

“No, seriously. If I was their age and someone that looked and acted like Zemo came up and started talking to me like that, I’d probably want to punch him and run.” You pause and then spot the Turkish delight. “On second thoughts…” You make to walk towards him, suddenly feeling rather protective over the children unknowingly speaking to a criminal like Zemo.

Before you can even make it two steps, a hand closes around your wrist and pulls you to a stop. You look back, irritated, to find Bucky shaking his head at you.

“Don’t. He’s not going to hurt them. They’re giving him information.”

“They’re children and he’s a criminal.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, tugging you back to his side and letting go of your wrist once you’re there. “And I’ll punch him in the face if I have to.”

Sam chuckles. “Don’t tempt him, or me, for that matter.”

“Now you’ve just made me want to watch him get punched in the face.”

Bucky and Sam share a look.

“I will if you will,” Sam shrugs.

Zemo finishes speaking to the children and walks back towards the three of you. “Cute kids,” he says, smiling a smile that makes your skin crawl. He walks straight past you.

“Yeah, I hate that man,” you mutter.

***

The journey back to Zemo’s apartment is quiet and uncomfortable. You feel worried for the children and are contemplating various different ways you could physically injure and maim Zemo. Whatever Sam and Bucky are thinking, you don’t know or particularly care.

What you do know is that you didn’t find what you came for

You close the door of the apartment behind you.

“Well, I got nothing,” Bucky says, heading straight to the couch. “No one’s talking about Donya.”

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them,” Sam replies, settling down on the couch opposite Bucky. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

You find a spot on the couch by Bucky and kick off your shoes so you can put your feet up. All of the travelling around was certainly taking its toll and honestly, you were beyond exhausted. If you had the time to sleep for more than a few broken hours, you’d take it. You rest your head on your arm, laying your head down on the top of the couch, and look between Sam and Bucky.

Sam sighs and elaborates. “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doing something.”

“You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky says. “Then, she’s no different than him,” he motions to Zemo, “or anybody else we’ve fought.”

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.”

You find the courage to speak. “Just because she’s not motivated by the same things as Zemo or the people you’ve fought, it doesn’t mean she’s not unlike them,” you sit up a little straighter as they look at you. “I haven’t fought people like you have, but I’ve fought. I’ve seen what regular people can do with a following. Karli is different, but she’s the same, too. She’s making change, but at what cost?”

Bucky looks at you, eyes narrowed. “I like you,” he says. “You get me.”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks like he’s about to reply when Zemo comes over holding a tray with tea and several tea cups. It almost makes you laugh, the sight of him with the smallest, daintiest pieces of China, but you hold it back, knowing that all eyes in the room would fall on you if you did laugh.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky’s amusement over you is long gone.

Zemo looks at the three of you for several moments before finally giving up the information he’d been holding hostage. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

Beside you, Bucky huffs in annoyance. “You know the Dora’s coming for you at any minute? In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.”

You watch as Bucky stands up from the couch and walks towards him. Something tells you that he’s not just standing up to talk, but before you can so much as think of anything else, Bucky grabs a tea cup and throws it against the wall behind Zemo. It shatters with a surprisingly loud crack.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

Both you and Sam are on your feet in seconds, stepping in-between them. You press a hand against Bucky’s shoulder and try to move him away from Zemo, but it does nothing. He doesn’t move and instead keeps shooting daggers at Zemo over your shoulder.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing,” Sam says, warning Bucky off. “Let me make a call.” He leaves the room, but not before tapping on Bucky’s other shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it.

Zemo gets on your nerves by asking “You want some cherry blossom tea?”

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky is seething.

You push on his shoulder again and finally he steps back.

“What, you think we can afford to start fighting amongst each other now?” You ask, directing Bucky out of the living room and down the hall, figuring it’s probably for the best if he and Zemo aren’t in the same room right now. Zemo can enjoy his cherry blossom tea all on his own.

Bucky lets out a long, shaky breath. “Told you I wanted to punch him.”

“When I said I wanted to see it, I didn’t mean today.”

You tug him out of the hall and into your room, closing the door behind you. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone since the street where he’d called you out for contradicting yourself all the time. Strangely, he’s the person out of the three of them that you’re the most comfortable around, yet you also know he’s definitely the one that’s the most rash in his decision making. Hence the broken cup.

Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over his hair.

“I know that helping him get out was for the best considering everything with Karli and the Flag Smashers, but I’m really regretting my decision right about now,” he admits, eyes focused firmly on the floor.

You walk over and settle down beside him on the bed.

“He has his uses, but just because he’s useful doesn’t mean he’s any less of an ass.”

He laughs briefly and the sound makes you smile.

“We all have regrets, okay?” You continue. “I have plenty of them, you have them, Sam has them, I bet even Zemo has some. Buried deep down. I try not to focus on mine. Maybe you should try the same with the Zemo thing.”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at you. “Yeah, it’s that easy, is it?”

For some reason, you want him to trust you even more now. Having felt disconnected from them all day, but also having felt the thrill when one of them laughs at your joke, or even Bucky just telling you that he likes you… the part of you that wants trust wins out, so you decide to tell Bucky one of your regrets.

“I regret leaving Madripoor and Sharon,” you admit. “She’s the only home I’ve known for the longest time. Madripoor – however messed up it is there – felt like some kind of home because of her. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since the blip, I suppose. Part of me wishes I was still there with her. But the other part of me focuses on the fact that she thinks I’m of more use here, with you guys. So I’m trying to be of use to you guys. I’m trying not to shut myself off. I’m pushing down my regret in favour of trying to be helpful.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Well, I haven’t contradicted myself yet, have I?”

Bucky smiles properly for the first time since you’ve met him.

“And listen, if it makes you feel any better, you entirely have my permission to punch Zemo before we finish all of this. I don’t know Sam well, but I have a feeling he’d be on board, too.”

He chuckles and leans back until he’s laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I meant what I said in there before,” he points in the direction of the living room. “That I like you. That you get me. I don’t know how, but you do.” He looks up at you, sitting up and watching him. “You’re making it annoyingly easy for me to trust you right now, you know that? I feel like I shouldn’t trust you because of the contradictions you make about yourself. But now you’re sitting here, being open and honest with me. Making sure I don’t punch people. And now I feel like I could trust you.”

You’re smiling. “Maybe that was all part of my grand plan.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m joking. It was a joke,” you huff out a laugh. “Learn to take a joke, James.”

He pushes himself up, sitting straight again. “James?”

“That’s your name, is it not? Or do you not like being called James?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” He blinks. Lets your words settle with him for a moment. “Bucky, James. I don’t care what you call me. Unless it’s offensive.”

“Well, you’re safe there,” you laugh. “I’m not mad at you, by the way. About what you said earlier. You were right. I do contradict myself, and I do it to protect myself.”

Bucky frowns. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

“Then I’ll try not to,” you say honestly. “Now, have you cooled off enough to go back and see who Sam was calling, or do you wanna stay here for a few more minutes?”

Bucky thinks over your question for a few moments, thinking ever so briefly about staying here with you for a little bit longer simply because he thinks he likes being around you, before nodding. “I think I’m good.”

You nod and stand up, intending to head to the door, but Bucky reaches out a hand to stop you. He means to grab your wrist, but unintentionally ends up grabbing your hand. You whirl, eyes a little wider than you realise, and look at him.

He doesn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he says. “For getting me out of there. For calming me down.”

You smile. “Anytime, Bucky.”

***

Tag List: (to be added, just reply to this post or message me!) @rexorangecouny @mischiefmanaged71 @rebelspykim @johnmurphys-sass @americaswritings @toribentleyva @purplewcrld @zozebo @ren-ni @felicityofbakerstreet @stealapizzamyheart @okayline @lilacs-lavender @andievgs @mvpluv @themaddies-obx @shawnartmendes @my-little-writer @vvipgot7be

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #tfatws #tfatws x reader #spider

198 notes · View notes

missjaystone · 4 years ago

Text

Inescapable

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Baron Zemo #Baron Helmut Zemo #Helmut Zemo #Alpha!Helmut Zemo #Alpha!Zemo Smut #Helmut Zemo smut #Zemo Smut #TFATWS #It's 5 am and honestly #This might not last 24 hours #Imma head out tho #TW: Dubcon #TW: NonCon #TW: Dubious Consent #TW: Nonconsent

182 notes · View notes

loveofafangirl · 4 years ago

Photo

Love & Grief

[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]

Pairing: Baron Zemo x (unnamed) Wife Mentions of Carl (his son), Oeznik, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier

Synopsis: Zemo has agreed to help Sam and Bucky track down the new super soldiers, but there are things about this world that trigger ghosts of the past. *Bittersweet/Fluffy-Angst* Setting: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier S01 E03

Word Count: ~1,300

Author’s Notes: Thank you to the wonderfully kind and talented @the-soot-sprite for prereading and reassuring me. She has been such an amazing supporter and I can’t thank her enough.

Some German words that I hopefully used (and translated) correctly: Schatzi: Little Treasure; Liebling: darling

"Papa, papa!"

His heart stopped short in his chest as if struck by an unseen force. His head craned quickly to the side in search of the source of the sound. The empty tarmac greeted him. His eyes snapped shut as he tried to focus on the memory forming.

"Zooooom." A little voice circled him. "Zoom!" His small hands clutched a model plane that he extended out away from him, letting it soar through the air. His hair was tousled, and his shirt already unkempt, even though the family had only just arrived at the airport.

"Mein Schatzi." Zemo smiled in adoration. "Come."

When Carl moved closer, his father lifted him up and spun with him in his arms. "Now, it soars higher. And soon, it will touch the sky. Just like you one day. You have a bright future, my son."

The boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck, a curious expression growing on his features as a new thought pulled his focus. "Will there be sweets on the plane?"

Zemo glanced at his wife, then quickly back to his son. "Shh—there may be a few Turkish Delights tucked in a secret spot for us to share." Returning his son to the ground, he pressed his finger to his lips and winked, whispering, "Just don't tell your mother. It must be our secret."

Carl nodded, a grin of delight plastered on his face as he ran off toward the plane, his model airplane still flying beside him. "Hallo, Oeznik!"

"Good morning, Master Carl." The butler gestured him up the stairs. He offered the boy a helping hand as his parents trailed behind.

"Papa says there are sweets," the boy stated with wide, hopeful eyes. "Do you know where they are?"

"Try the bottom compartment by the window nearest your father's seat."

Carl hurried into the plane, followed by his parents.

"You spoil him, Helm." His wife gave his hand a gentle squeeze as he helped her into the plane.

"Only a little." His head dipped to the side and his shoulders pulled forward, pleading his case. "Can you blame me?"

"I'd not have it any other way."

His hands clutched tightly at his sides as the memory faded away, leaving only a feeling of hopeless longing. Even after all of this time, he could still feel her beside him, her hand safely in his.

"So, all this time, you've been rich?" Sam stated more than questioned, interrupting his thoughts.

He breathed deeply, recomposing himself as he tried to let go of the past. "I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." He did his best to shrug it off, taking a step forward from them. Weakness was not something he could afford to show.

The trio boarded the plane, heading for the lawless nation of Madripoor. His fingers drifted lightly over the back of the soft leather seat that was once where his wife sat before Sam occupied the space. Bucky mindlessly brushed past him, bumping him slightly.

"Careful, Carl."

His thoughts drifted back as he took his seat and looked out of the window as the plane began its ascent.

"We do not run in the plane."

"Why not, Papa?" The inquisitive child questioned.

Zemo took a seat and pulled his son into the safety of his lap. "Do you still have your little plane?"

The boy nodded, handing it to his father.

"Do you see those dark skies off in the distance there? Storm clouds like that can cause the plane to bump and shake. Like this." He modeled with the toy plane how the aircraft may shift due to turbulence. "You could lose your balance, fall and bump your head or get hurt." His fingers ran softly through the child's lush, blonde hair. "I never want to see you injured. It is my job to protect you and help you make safe choices."

"I'll be careful," Carl agreed. "Promise."

Zemo cradled the back of his son's head and brushed a kiss on the crown of his head. "I love you, my boy."

"I love you too, Papa."

Oeznik's shuffling in the cabin pulled him back again.

"Apologies if that's a little warm..."

The older gentleman reminded him of his past and the family that he lost. Despite knowing all he had done, Oeznik's kindness led him to remember the man he once was. Although, he knew dwelling too long in the past would not help with the mission at hand.

He accepted the warm champagne, silently toasting his two unlikely traveling companions. His attention shifted to the Winter Soldier. If he couldn't stay in his past, he would distract himself with another's.

As the flight continued and the conversation waned, they decided to rest in the quiet hours they had left. Zemo retrieved a pillow from the closet and brought it to his nose. The subtle hint of her washed over him. He wasn't sure if her scent had truly lingered or if the barrage of memories had triggered something more. His body tensed at the recollection; pain burned like fire through his core. There was nothing he could do to bring them back. They were gone, and he was alone.

"Relax, my love." Her voice was a ghosted whisper on the back of his neck. "It'll all work out. When we get there, you will see. It will be alright."

"How can you be so sure, Liebling?"

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder before burying her head there a moment.

He turned into her, searching for answers.

Her encouraging smile warmed his nerves. "They will see what I see: your brilliant mind, your kind heart, and your love for your country. The council will approve your request to help the people."

His finger curled tenderly under her chin, lifting her delicate features. "Where would I be without you?"

"Luckily, you'll never need to find out." She leaned forward, closing the gap, covering his lips with her own.

His arms circled her waist, drawing her nearer. Their movements were slow and steady, warmth building between them as a calmness washed over him.

His gloved fist slammed forward, hovering just above the wall. His pulse quickened, and blood boiled. He pounded the air with great restraint, stopping before making a sound as he did not wish to draw attention to himself.

The vision of their bodies huddled together in the rubble was an image that had haunted him every single day. That he could handle; it fueled his vengeance, his anger, his frustrations. That memory allowed him to close himself off and harden his heart. It allowed him to focus his mind on problems he could solve, like the Avengers and ending the super-soldier program once and for all.

These memories—his innocence, her beauty, and grace— cut deeper than any wound ever could. The only treasure that had ever truly mattered to him had heedlessly been taken. His head hung a little lower as he wondered what they would think of him now. Would it still "work out" and be "alright" when so little of himself was left to give?

He returned to his seat, resting his head on the pillow, the many memories made on that plane spirling in his mind. His fingers slipped in his jacket pocket, pulling out an old photo of the three of them. He had been too late to save them, but there were other children like his son out there. He wouldn't delude himself into being a hero, but even if he could save one child in his son's name that would be a start. He tucked it back away, keeping it close to his heart.

Love and grief. He thought to himself as his eyes drifted closed. The two things in life that change you beyond repair; and, he had suffered both.

Perma(til the end of the line): @the-soot-sprite

Zemo tags: @montypythonsholysnail, @killsandthrills, @noavengers

#baron zemo #baron zemo fan fiction #zemo #hemlut zemo #baron hemlut zemo #daniel bruhl #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel fan fiction #mcu fan fiction #baron zemo x female character #carl zemo

185 notes · View notes

cazimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Could please write a Zemo piece using the following prompt: “I knew these were your favorite flowers, so I had to get them for you”?

It was late in the evening. The sun already threatening to fall down past the roofs of the shops in town. Zemo stuffed his hands into his coat pocket and quickly jogged down the road. His eyes cast over the shop after shop in desperate need to find something. Just as he was reaching the end of the street, desperation on the tip of his tongue, he froze, spotting them in the window. With urgency, he ran into the shop.

You raised the spoon to your lips, delighting in the smooth taste of chocolate that filled your mouth. Was eating straight from a Nutella jar particularly healthy? No, but after seeing Zemo had brought you a new pot for today while he was away on work business, you couldn't resist the temptation to dig in.

It was tough having to spend the day alone while Zemo worked. Zemo had tried to find a way to push the mission off, but really there was no way he couldn't, and you didn't want him to get in trouble for it. After all, it was simply one day.

Zemo had pulled out all the stops to make your day better, though, even though he couldn't be there in person. You had woken up to find a breakfast laid out for you. Freshly baked pancakes and strawberries with a topping of maple syrup. He had left a little love note, saying how he wished he could have fed them to you himself. He had left many little love notes around your house for you to find today. At the end of the bed, there was a bag with a new silk nightgown he had brought for you. He had brought some new cherry-smelling candles, some roses, and other luxuries to bathe within the bathroom. He had pulled out your favourite book and left it beside the sofa with a box of chocolates. And of course, in the kitchen, there was a box of Turkish delights next to a jar of Nutella.

It was growing late now, but you were determined to stay up till Zemo had arrived back home. You had pulled out your favourite rom-com, which you were ready to force Zemo to watch with you. Just as the grand clock started chiming ten times, you heard the click at the door. Excitement flooding through you, you rushed to greet him at the door.

Just as you ran towards the door, though, you halted in your tracks, taken back by surprise. In walked Zemo, clutching the most enormous bouquet of flowers you had ever seen, while also wearing a flower necklace and holding some more boxes of chocolate under his arms.

"Zemo, I- my gosh, you didn't have to."

"I knew these were your favourite flowers, so I had to get them for you."

He eagerly stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Smirking, he pulled back.

"Nutella."

Blushing, you gently batted his arm because of his teasing. Zemo handed you the bouquet, squeezing your hand in his as he did so, and then pulled the flower necklace from around his neck to place it on you.

"Beautiful," he murmured. His eyes raked up and down you, completely smitten.

You pressed a kiss to Zemo's cheek and took his hand in yours again, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I love you, Zemo, now come. I have my own surprise for you. "

Little Valentine's celebration

#zemo imagine #baron helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x you #zemo x y/n #zemo drabble #zemo fanfic #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

25 notes · View notes

randomdancingwhore · 4 years ago

Text

Princess Protection Program - Helmut Zemo x Wakandan! Reader

Chapter 1: The (Not Quite) Meet Cute

Chapter Summary: Y/N and T'Challa mourn, and she meets a certain German psychiatrist.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of death of a family member, Drugging.

Notes: Female Reader, No beta read.

Word Count: 1520

The young prince, T'Challa, paced back and forth in the office. It had been a stressful day. He had fought the renowned Captain America.

Through the glass walls of the room, he saw a figure approaching. It was Y/N, his cousin who had he had been raised with like a sister. The approaching girl looked as innocent and demure as always. The structured business attire she donned looked out of place on her as she was more suited to the dainty dresses she usually wore.

The door opened, and the young woman rushed into her cousin's awaiting arms. The sound of her sobs filling the office. The girl pulled back,

"What happened, cousin? Is it true?" She asked, eyes glittering with tears.

"Yes, that man killed our king. He murdered my father, our father in cold blood," T'Challa stated.

Y/N fell back into the Prince's arms, once again sobbing. Y/N was not the king's daughter. She wasn't even from his side of the family. She was the daughter of Queen Ramonda's younger brother, and after he and Y/N's mother's mysterious death the Queen and her husband took the girl in. They raised her like their own child, and in return, she felt as though they were her parents.

"I tried to bring him the justice that he deserved, but Steve Rogers protected that murderer, the Winter Soldier," The Prince spat.

"But Captain America saves people. He’s good." The girl marvelled at the information given to her.

"I thought so too, cousin."

»»——⍟——««

The pair sat at the desk. T'Challa had calmed down enough to have the tea that was brought in. Cup in hand, he wondered what the girl was doing so far from safety. Y/N had been in the UN building during the bombing. She had been scooped away by the Dora as soon as she was found in the rubble.

Y/N had accompanied her uncle and cousin to Vienna for her first official trip as a diplomat after her university graduation. She didn't want to attend the UN meeting, but never could say no to anyone.

"I'm grateful for your company, Y/N, but I must know why you've come here? You should be somewhere more secure," T'Challa inquired.

Y/N gently put down her teacup and patted the corner of her lips with a cloth serviette, "This tea is wonderful. Uncle would have enjoyed it," The girl mused, trying to change the subject.

"You haven’t answered my question, Y/N. What are you doing here?"

Taking a deep breath, she said "I've been asked to do a job,"

When T'Challa stayed silent, she continued, "Rather... I asked to do a job... I asked to sit in on the Winter Soldiers psychological assessment."

T'Challa stood suddenly, making Y/N gasp as the table shook.

"You will do no such thing!"

"T'Challa, please. I'll be fine. It is my job, after all," Y/N pleaded. She hated to see people upset, and it made her feel even worse when she was the cause of it.

"That man is dangerous!"

"I'm aware, but I have to see him, I have to see the man that took our father from us" Her voice cracked, making the T’challa soften.

The Prince settled back into his chair, and Y/N took his hands. "Please let me do this. I'm begging you".

»»——⍟——««

The session was due to begin soon. Y/N stood alone outside the door, waiting for the psychiatrist to arrive.

Composing herself was more challenging than she thought it would be, but King T'chaka's murderer was so close, so who could fault her for being terrified of the man that had shaken her family like this?

Y/N felt fresh tears gathering.

"Is everything okay, Frauline?" A masculine voice said from behind her.

Y/N jumped with a squeak as she spun around to find a handsome young man before her. He had short brown hair, a five o'clock shadow and a pair of glasses on.

"I'm fine, thank you, sir. I'm just waiting for the doctor," she assured him.

"Oh," he says, extending a hand, "My apologies. Dr. Theo Broussard"

Y/N takes his hand and gives it a weak shake. She smiles timidly. This wasn't who she expected.

"Y/N M/N L/N, ward of the Wakandan royal family, but I prefer just Y/N. I'm here to observe the assessment process?"

She sees the doctor's jaw clench at her last statement but pushes it aside.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Ward of the royal family, you say? Do you share any relation to the late King of Wakanda" he ponders.

"He is- was my uncle" She shifts uncomfortably, and the man sends her a sad look.

"I’m truly regretful of his loss. He seemed like a good man."

"Thank you, he was," Y/N said, thinking fondly of her uncle.

"I feel inclined to ask about the ethics of your observation. You are, as they say, 'too close to the case'"

"I assure you, I won't try to sway your judgement on the Soldier's evaluation. You won't even know I'm there," Y/N says

Dr. Broussard hums and looks into her eyes, reading her.

"Are you frightened to go in there?" He asks

"I won't lie, I am. I've always been very good at making other people feel better, be more at peace, you know. That's why I felt it was so right for me to pursue a career in psychology. But here I am, with my degree, and I can help everyone feel better but myself" She laughed a bit, and the doctor smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It will take work, but you'll find a way. And remember, James Barnes is restrained. He can't get to you."

He fishes something out of his pocket and offers it to her. It's a Turkish delight. "Something to calm your nerves."

Y/N smiles and takes it. He watches her unwrap it and pop it in her mouth.

»»——⍟——««

Y/N didn't feel right. She was beginning to feel a bit weak and foggy.

Chalking it up to the fact that she was sat in a dim room with a killer, she ignores it.

As the doctor had said, the Winter Soldier was restrained, but it did little to help her feel safe. She did feel angry, an emotion she hardly ever felt but as soon as she had set foot into the room and saw the Winter Soldier, anger and fear consumed her.

Y/N was seated in a chair beside Dr. Broussard. Sending an icy glare, she didn't know she was capable of towards the man behind the glass.

"Tell me, Bucky, you've seen a great deal, haven't you?" The doctor asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," The Soldier said with a downtrodden tone, and a pang of pity hit Y/N's chest. She tried to push it down quickly, but it lingered.

Y/N began to feel light-headed. Touching the back of her hand to her forehead to make sure she wasn't feverish.

"Ms. L/N, is everything all right?" He asked, noticing her movement.

"It's nothing, Doctor."

He clears his throat and continues talking to Bucky. "You feel that if you open your mouth, the horrors will never stop."

As the doctor said this, the pity Y/N felt began to grow. She knew what HYDRA had done to him, and looking into his eyes, she could see that he was haunted. 'But HYDRA didn't make him kill my uncle' Y/N tried to convince herself, wanting so badly to remain angry, to show loyalty to her family, but the pity still grew.

The fogginess in her mind also grew. Stars began to gather in her vision, and she felt her eyes clouding over.

"Don't worry," The doctor says to the Winter Soldier.

Y/N stands, ready to excuse herself.

"We only have to talk about one," the doctor finishes.

The woman collapses to the ground as darkness and blinking, red lights overtake the room.

The powers out.

Going in and out of consciousness. Y/N hears banging and words spoken in Russian as she desperately tries to stay awake, translating what she can.

"Seventeen"

Bang!

"Benign"

Bang!

"Nine"

Bang!

"Homecoming"

Bang!

"One"

Bang!

"Freight car"

Crash!

Silence fills the room.

"Soldier?" she hears the doctor ask in Russian

"Ready to comply," The Winter Soldier replies.

Y/N's mind goes blank.

»»——⍟——««

Looking down at the girl passed out on the floor, Zemo couldn't help but feel a little bad.

The reason she had gotten in his way was because she was looking for closure over something he had done.

He knelt beside her and took off his jacket. Folding it into a makeshift pillow, he raised Y/N's head and places it beneath her. It was the least he could do.

He ran his thumb over her cheek. Even in a coerced slumber, the pretty young woman looked so peaceful and vulnerable—a sleeping beauty. 'How ironic,' he thought.

Far off he heard the footsteps of Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson as they approached.

He didn’t linger anymore. There was still work to be done...

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated✨

89 notes · View notes