#baron zemo x gender neutral reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

Text

The boys meeting Wade Wilson for the first time | Dysfunctional Quartet one-shot | Post TFATWS Series

Set after the events of TFATWS

Read the chapters and HCs -> Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

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

Content Warnings: Wade Wilson (lmao) profanity, sexual innuendoes, flirtatious banter, mentions of violence and death. Fourth wall breaking | gn!reader (they/them)

Premise: Four’s a party right— well its about to meet its party crasher.

Note: this is a one shot/short imagine as part of my Dysfunctional Quartet series (masterlist above). All relationships are platonic with flirtatious tones and the ready is gender-neutral. For more background info on how the team came to be and what they are up to—read the interviews and chapters in the imagines set list.

———————————

“NO, Wade, you cannot come—okay I’m on a big assignment at the moment and you’ll get us arrested or killed.” Y/n whisper-hisses into the phone, careful not to draw any attention to them with the others in the room. “And frankly, I’m not in the mood to go back to prison—especially since you’re the fucker that put me there,”

The man on the other end whines. “C’mon, baby cakes—,” Y/n hears a grunt from another voice and cringes—not knowing if he’s on a job…or involved in a more personal matter. “I thought we got passed that boo boo ages ago. And honestly, It’s no fair you get to go off being the hero I never saw you to be—.”

“Wow….”

“—with a bunch of tall, handsome, and emotionally distressed men, without me, wires.”

“I told your ass to stop calling me that, Pool boy.” Y/n rolls their eyes, leaning back in the chair while keeping their eyes on the multiple monitors in front of them. “What are you even doing? Are you on a job right now—,” they pause to type something on the keyboard. “Are you seriously calling me while on a job, Wade?”

Another grunt followed by a gurgle, “Whhhhaat?” Wade hums innocently while the phone starts to pick up sounds like he was running. “Of course not—I don’t mix business with pleasure, hacker jacker.” Y/n makes a sound of offense at the nickname. “Although it would be fun to if I was in the presence of those beautiful hunk of Hollywood stars you’re with—.”

“No,” they cut him off quickly. “Don’t even think about it. Okay? I’m hanging up now—.”

“Uhhh, Y/n?”

Y/n groans, “I’m kinda busy, Sam—.”

“Is that you’re friend who got you arrested hanging out the window?” Y/n spun so fast in their chair they nearly dropped the phone. They faced the group—who were all looking out a window in the living space of the hotel suit, and sure enough the one and only Wade Wilson in his red skintight ball grasping suit was hanging upside down outside, waving.

“Hi!” He shouts, still waving with his phone still on the call with Y/n next to his ear. “My names Deadpool—I’m a friend of HotWire,” he looks down at the ground before pointing at the window. “Could you let me in please? I’m starting to feel the blood descend to my brain, its gonna get a little fuzzy in a minute—and I wanna commit your faces to memory first.”

Y/n let out the most distressed, annoyed, sound they had ever let out and pushed the chair so hard from standing it fell over. Throwing the phone on the couch, Y/n passed the trio and threw open the door to the balcony. Without warning Wade, their hand grabbed him by the scruff of the suit and hauled him over the railing before taking a knife and cutting the rope holding his legs up.

Wade fell to the balcony ground with a *oof* followed by a grunt. He didn’t have time to react cause Y/n dragged him into the suite and threw him to the floor at the trios feet. “What the fuck, Wade?” They shouted, not caring the man was groaning from whatever pain he was in—waiting for the heeling factor to kick in. “I told you not to come looking for me asshole. How did you find me?”

The vigilante finally sits up, shaking his head with a crank of his neck. “Uhh,” he moans, making the three men frown with unease. “Not the type of warm welcome I was expecting, wires.” He holds up his fallen phone, letting the screen face Y/n—and the hacker curses when they see a map with a glowing red dot.

“You were fucking tracking me, Wade?” They put their hands on their hips. “Are you out of your mind—I told you I’m on government business and unless I wanna get my ass thrown back in jail, you should be on the other end of the planet away from this.” Don’t get Y/n wrong, they loved Wade and he was their best friend—pretty much family, but their luck when together was never good.

Also he was the one who dared them to hack into the White House system while crossed—which happened to coincide with an attempted kidnapping of the President.

Wade huff, and Y/n could tell he was rolling his eyes under the mask. The group watches him stand, placing his fallen Katana blades on his back before facing them. “Look, sweetums, I’m not gonna join your little expendables group you have going on here.” Y/n crosses their arms, raising a brow but he continued. “—I just wanted to see you, Y/n. I-I mean cmon its been so long and I just wanted to check in on you.”

“The last time you wanted to check in on me, Wade, we got crossed faced and played triple dog dare which ended with me in prison…..”

“……I mean yeah—but we had a good time, didn’t we?”

Y/n lets out another distressed groan, bringing their hand to their face. They think for a moment, finally turning to their companions and noticing the mixed emotions of the three men. Y/n sighs again, “Well there isn’t much to do now that you’re here—but don’t get comfy,” they warn with narrowed eyes. “—You’re not staying. And the last thing I need is Agent Rossi on my ass for having your jabbering butt plug looking self ruining this mission.”

Wade lets out an amused sigh. “Ahh I remember Cable call me that once—I miss him. I wonder how’s doing now he doesn’t have to play Thanos anymore.”

“What?” Sam finally says, looking between Y/n and Wade with a perplexed expression. “What did he—-.”

Y/n holds a hand up to stop him. “Whenever he says something, Sam, just nod like you know what he’s talking about.” They finally step back a bit away from Wade and raise one arm to introduce the mutant. “Boys, this is best friend-.”

“Best friend?” Zemo couldn’t help but repeat in a question. That was not the relationship he would’ve described the interaction he just encountered.

“Yes,” Y/n says although it sounded like they were also questioning it. “My best friend, one time fuck—sword wielding mutant, and anti heroic ‘Merc with a Mouth,’ Wade Wilson also known as Deadpool,” they smirk and add, “—and occasionally also called Thom Cruz, Deady-Pool, and Weapon Eleven, in that order.”

Wade starts bowing like he just received an award. “Oh stop it, you’re making my ego grow even more baby cakes—any more and you’ll have to start calling me Tony Stark soon.”

Y/n ignores him and introduces the boys. “Wade, this handsome hunk is Sam Wilson—formerly the Falcon and currently Captain America—pretty much Americas husband,” they point to Bucky next. “We got the lovely bionic staring machine who could pass at the terminator grandpa, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.” Bucky glares at Y/n but they continue onto Zemo. “And lastly our sugar daddy with the coins and good looks, Baron Helmut Zemo of Sokovia.”

Silence fills the space, and Y/n just looks between them all with ‘well are y’all gonna say anything?’

Shaking off the wild introduction, Sam is the first to speak. “Nice to meet you, Wade,” he says politely, looking over the man in the red suit. “Wasn’t expecting to meet you so soon. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wade laughs, “Oh I can imagine,” he goes to shake Sams hands. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance Papa Doc—,” Sams brows raise in confusion while Wade continues. “—Nice to see you’ve given up on rapping and decided a more patriotic path to righteousness.” The handshake ends, leaving Sam with nothing but disorientation by the mercs words.

Sam turns to Y/n while Wade moves to Bucky, the hacker shaking their head as if to say, ‘he does this all the time. Better than to question.’

“Wow those eyes are beautiful,” Wade awes, gazing—rather sensually—into Buckys eyes. “Its like I’m being made love to by the ocean.”

“Wade,” Y/n warns, noticing the look in Buckys eyes. It was the one where he looked like he was about to punch someone.

The man doesn’t wait for Buckys response, stepping to the side to where Zemo was. Wade whistles, “Not only do you dress sugar daddy, but the sex appeal you radiate just makes me want to drop to my knees.” Y/n facepalms, but has to bite back a laugh at the look of horror on Zemos face.

Wade raises his hands as if to defend his words, “Completely the opposite of the sub energy I was getting from Goodbye Lenin, you know?”

“Uhhh, thank you?” Zemo hesitantly replies, flickering his attention to Y/n for help. The hacker steps up and pats Wade on the back, gesturing him to move away.

“Okay, Pool Boy that’s enough—you’re scaring my friends—.”

“But I thought I was your friend.” Wade pouts beneath the mask, but even the face covering seemed to move in a frown.

“You’re my best friend,” the hacker emphasized, “But you’re a pain in the ass and we gotta get to work.” The news of ‘work’ has the man bouncing on his feet.

“Oooo,” his fingers wiggle in their face, “you little goonies going on a super secret heist? Can I join?”

“No—.” Both Y/n and Bucky say, making Wade slump.

“I can be of some use, you know. I was an X-men.”

“Trainee.”

It was gonna be a long day for the dysfunctional quartet.

102 notes · View notes

munsons-maiden · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

Hello! 🥰

It’s a fluffy little comfort fic. I hope you enjoy - Love, Kiki 🖤

Requested by: anon. I hope you see this, and I hope it can bring you some comfort 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Helmut Zemo x gender neutral reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You’re going through an episode of depression, but Zemo is there to catch your fall.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.1 k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of depression but it’s fluff and comfort

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝🖤

A/N: Solnishko is Russian and means “little sun“

You were sitting at the front steps, knees tucked close to your chest and your chin resting on your knees, staring blindly ahead at the silhouettes of landscape against the night sky without really even seeing it. Raindrops were rolling down your cheeks in rivulets, mingling with tears. When had you begun crying? When had it started to rain? You shivered in your rain-soaked clothes. You should go inside and change, warm up before the cold would seep into your bones and you’d catch a cold. But you couldn’t. There was no strength left in you today. Your thoughts felt like greedy demons, haunting you, sucking every last drop of happiness out of you until there would be nothing left in your chest but an empty dark hole.

The front door creaked on its hinges as it opened, and the light from the hallway spilled over you like a spotlight.

“What’s wrong, Solnishko?”, Helmut asked from behind you, his voice hoarse with sleep and laced with worry, “Why are you sitting out here in the rain?”

“Couldn’t sleep”, you whispered, careful not to let the strain in your voice show.

“My love, I know you better than I know my favourite book. One look at you and I can tell that you’re miles away in your mind.”

You let your head sink down into your hands again and listened to his footsteps as he slowly walked towards you and finally sat down on the step beside your cowering form. There was the rustling sound of fabric, and a moment later, you were wrapped in the soft wool of his coat, his familiar scent of cedarwood-soap and the warmth of his body still clinging to the grey fabric. You raised your head to see him look at you, and there was worry swirling in his hazel eyes. The front door stood open still, and the light spilling outside painted shadows across his handsome features.

“Thanks”, you mumbled, tugging the coat tighter around you – you hadn’t realized how much you’d been freezing, soaked by the rainwater, until now.

“Can’t have you catch a cold”, he winked, but there was no strength left in you to smile back.

“How do you feel, Solnishko?”, Zemo asked. Usually, the pet name he’d given you – little sun, it meant – made your heart soar with happiness, but tonight, it felt like an ideal you couldn’t reach.

“I don’t feel like your little sun today”, you whispered. “I feel dim. And cold, and empty.”

“I never called you that because I expect you to always be happy. I call you my little sun because you always make me feel happy whenever I see you”, he mused, and carefully placed his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. You hummed and let your head rest on his shoulder, breathing him in.

“Another bad day?”, he finally asked after a few heartbeats of silence, both of you watching the night sky arching above your heads.

You nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to talk about. I stayed in bed. I didn’t to any of the things I had to do, and that makes it even worse.”

“Getting better is the only thing you need to do”, Zemo said silently. “And if getting better requires for you to spend time in bed and gather your strength, then you’ve done enough.”

“I just feel so … lost. I feel as if there’s been a shipwreck, and I’m sitting in the last lifeboat floating across the huge ocean with no land in sight, nowhere to go. Trapped. Everywhere I look, there’s only the black water. And above…it’s night. Just black night sky arching above me. And it feels like my tiny little lifeboat is sinking, and water’s running in over the sides because this huge black ocean wants to swallow me. That’s…that’s how it feels.” Your voice broke a little at the end of the sentence.

He tilted his head a little to the side, as he always did when contemplating something, and you adored it. You raised your head from his shoulder to look at him, reaching out to gently trace the line of his cheekbone with your index finger.

“Whenever you get lost at sea, you can always navigate by the stars,” Zemo contemplated.

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the night above you is never starless. There will always be at least the Northern Star to guide you. I’ve read that, once”, Zemo mused, and you could feel the whisper of a smile tugging at your lips – he always had read something about it, no matter the conversation.

“Are you trying to mansplain away my depressive episode, Helmut?”, you quipped, and it made him smile that smug little smile you’d fallen so hard for, were still falling for even after all this time together with him. It never failed to make your mind dizzy and your pulse quicken a little in response.

“If that had been my intention, I would’ve recited some article of a psychology journal”, he winked, before his face grew serious again. “What I’m trying to say, Solnishko, is that even if it feels like you’re alone and shipwrecked on a huge dark ocean, I will always be there to guide you back to the safe shores. No matter how long it takes, how much strength you will need. I will always be your Northern Star, no matter what happens.”

You tried to blink back the tears that had begun rolling down your rain-soaked cheeks again at his words – tears of gratitude and hope, this time. Zemo gently cupped the side of your face and swiped them away with the pad of his thumb, his hazel eyes intently fixed on yours with such tenderness and love in their depths that it made your heart flutter, before he placed the softest, sweetest of kisses to the left corner of your mouth.

“Have you eaten something today?”, he finally asked, and there was no judgement in his voice.

You shook your head.

“Then let’s go back inside, dry you up and make something to eat. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night, just pick something and we’ll prepare it, okay?”

Zemo didn’t wait for your answer. Instead, he stood and bent down to you, and a surprised little squeal bubbled up your throat when his arms were around you and he picked you up, bridal style, to carry you inside and set you down on the kitchen counter, and you clung to him. He was your lifeline. He was your Northern Star.

209 notes · View notes

zemosupremo · 3 years

Text

~Zemo Headcanons~

He might not admit it vocally, but he loves how kindhearted you are. You can still see some good in the world, and that may even rub off on him- though he’ll definitely never admit that part.

There is one reason why he insists on going to so many fancy, upperclass soirées: you. It’s another excuse to buy you expensive, beautiful clothing and accessories. He’ll try to help you put on your outfit for the evening, but brush his hands away or else you’ll end up with both of your ensembles in piles on the floor and yourselves tangled together in bed. Or let him help you and forget the evening out- ending up in bed together was likely how the evening was going to end anyway, so you’re just getting to the main act sooner rather than later.

Zemo has to hold himself back from how much he wants to kiss you. If he gave into his urges constantly, you would always be connected to each other’s lips. He loves having conversations with you, but he gets a bit lost in his imagination if he looks at your lips for too long.

He’s excited to travel the world with you. If you’ve already traveled some yourself, he’ll insist that you be his personal tour guide at the destinations you know. He’ll ask you about your memories at certain spots. The memories you make with him will be even better. If you’ve never really had the chance to travel, he’s ready to take you anywhere you want to go. His private jet is at your command. He expects for you to use it with him!

Sometimes he feels so angry at himself for wanting to die in the past. If it had happened, he would never have met you and gotten his second chance at happiness. You mean the world to him.

#baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo #zemo imagine #zemo x you #zemo headcanons #baron zemo x you #baron helmut zemo x reader #gender neutral character #slightly not safe for work #zemo fanfic #zemo x reader

153 notes · View notes

swooning-for-spider-man · 3 years

Text

So I have an idea about a Zemo x reader fanfic. It will be an AU based around the game Papers please. Reader works at the checkpoint. Zemo (Rich Baron) doesn't have the correct papers but is being hunted by HYDRA after double crossing them after they kill his family (wife and Kids) a few years previously. You let him through after he promises to repay you once he gets to his family mansion and large inheritance. You need the money and he seems like a decent man acting upon Just cause. A month goes by quickly as you are stressed about your job and the responsibility it brings as well as the traumatic attacks and bombings on the checkpoint. You had almost forgotten about the mysterans promise until a letter appears at your doorstep one night.

Would anyone be interested in reading something like this?

#zemo #zemo imagine #fanfiction #baron #baron zemo #male reader #reader #zemo x reader #gender neutral reader #AU #zemo fanfic

41 notes · View notes

kortsitron · 3 years

Text

And they were roommates

I'm not sorry for that title, not at all. Peter here is a collage student and reader is non-Avenger. Just a little thingy, I've decided to make this headcanon platonic, so not too much romantic stuff is here. I hope you're going to enjoy it 💖

Peter Parker

Taking care of him after missions, Peter loves telling you about how they went

A lot of movie night, A LOT

Once he caught you eating ice cream in your bed at morning and asked if he could join you, now it became kind of tradition

He often comes to cuddle with you

Him murmuring Spider-Man theme song while cooking

Him asking you to help with some collage related stuff

Playing "rock, paper, scissors" to see who’s going to buy groceries

Speaking in vines to each other

"(Y/N), can you make me a sandwich?"

"Go back to sleep and starve."

"How dare you."

Neighborhoods hate both of you, because when you're in the mood for singing, you're EXTREMELY loud

Both of you trying to wake up before each other just to use shower fjrst

Steve Rogers

Don't curse when he's at house, he'll always say "Language!" whenever he would hear you

He tries to take you to run with him at morning. Once you agreed and after that very first time you've decided not to do that again, he's too fast for you

Steve often asks you to help him with understanding technology and modern slang

Listening to 40's songs, sometimes you two would dance

You might no expect it, but Steve sings while taking a shower. You heard him a couple times and sometimes you would tease him about it

Sometimes using movie lines when you to talk to him, just to hear "I understood that reference." with cute smile on his face

You wanna see Steve blush? Call him Cap or Captain, trust me, it's worth it

Telling you about the times when he was young

Always knocking before coming to your room, doesn't matter if door is closed or not

He once drew you when you were sleeping, since that day you became his model

Bucky Barnes

Bucky being a bit insecure at first

Be supportive, play with his hair, cuddle with him, comfort him after nightmares, he'll return the favor, not right away, but he will, just give him sometime

Him being really gentle with you

Eventually you'll become his comfort person and he'll spend most of his time with you (if you want to be alone, he’ll respect it)

If you're working or just doing something, he'll probably go to the room you're in just to continue what he was doing, he just want spend time with you

Asking you to explain technology to him, luckily he learns quickly

Bucky is pretty quiet and sometimes you're not able to hear him walk, so he sometimes accidentally scares you, because you'd didn't hear him coming

If you're going on your own to buy groceries, Bucky will ask you to buy him some plums. He's going to be happy if you're going to buy them

Thor Odinson

Jokingly asking him to calm down whenever you hear the thunder rumbling

Thor's Thunder jokes are great

Constantly telling him not leave Mjolnir on kitchen table, because you can't pick it up

Him telling you tales from Asgard

Beer, buy him beer, you know he loves it

Thor really likes when you braid his hair and brush it

Both of you calling his hammer Meow Meow, because you find it funny

Being in one room with Thor is not so nice when he's sleeping since he snores loudly

Him learning how to cook using thing from Midgard, he actually likes to cook when you're around, because he knows that you would help him

When it comes to Thor trying to cook, he once almost burned a pot. Nothing too bad happened, but you couldn't use that pot anymore

Loki Laufeyson

Loki doesn't care if you're his or not, he'll call you darling and dear just because he can

Reading books to you, if you want

You buying him some books

He loves when both of you are watching something and you play with his hair, he won't admit it, but you know that he loves it

You like to steal his cape when he's not home, he pretends that he doesn't know, but he knows it too well

He once caught you wearing his helmet. You thought that he's gonna be mad, but instead he adjusted it and complemented you. He doesn't mind you wearing his helmet, when he's around, he'll just tease you a bit

Loki's always going with you to buy groceries, he just doesn't want to stay alone. He always says that you won't bring all those "heavy bags" by yourself (doesn't matter if you're strong or not)

Him sometimes showing you some magic, especially when you would beg him to or when you're sad

He loves bubble baths, so if you want to take a shower or something, do it before he gets to bath, because he's not going to leave it for at least two hours

Baron Helmut Zemo

Drinking tea with Zemo and having conversations with him is great, he's a good listener

He'll never disturb your sleep, he'll be as quiet as possible near you

Buying you gifts for no reason, which makes you call him "Sugar Daddy", he doesn't minds this nickname and call your his "Sugar Baby"

Keep the house clean, okay? We don't Zemo to be mad, do we?

Feel free to come and ask him for advice whenever you need

Zemo would come to your room, when he doesn't feel well

Giving you his coat whenever you're cold or you're sad

If both of you can't sleep, he'll make you some tea and talk with you

Listening to music at evening to relax

He also comes to you to talk, when past comes to him and he just need to get everything out

#marvel #marvel x reader #loki x reader #thor x reader #peter parker x reader #loki laufeyson #thor odinson #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #peter parker #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #gender neutral reader #marvel headcanons #and they were roommates #omg they were roommates

625 notes · View notes

lxdyred · 3 years

Note

zemo x reader where he says he loves them for the first time ? mayhaps🥺

Another life, another time

Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader

Summary: Zemo confesses his feelings for the first time.

Requests: Open!

A/N: English is not my maternal language, if this has any grammatical errors please let me know. There could be some OOC!Zemo, sorry about that. Also, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, if there is anything I should correct, please, let me know.

A/N: This story has been inspired by two songs, which are: Harry and Ginny by Alexandre Desplat and There's a place by Roo Panes. (I strongly recommend listening to the first one while reading the story!)

This story is SPOILER FREE!

Feedback is really appreciated. I really wanna know what you think about this! So please coment, reblog and like (?) 😊

It was barely midnight when the melancholic piano piece began to play in that apartment in Riga. It could be heard perfectly from the small back garden, where they were. The sweet but nostalgic song was coming from his room, on the upper floor of the apartment.

They looked up, and could see how a small light was on in that room, just as the window was open, making it possible to hear the melody perfectly. They closed momentarily their eyes and enjoyed the song, while simultaneously enjoying the scent of the flowers and the little sounds that some nocturnal animals made in that small backyard.

Then they realized that it was an invitation for them to come and see him.

It was a song from the one their favorite soundtrack, which they had on their playlist of movie soundtracks and which they also had once shown to Helmut on one of visits to the prison.

He didn't seem to think much of the song when they showed it to him that time. Not until now, at least.

He remembered the song, he even learned how to play it.

The melody repeated itself again, but now they couldn't hear it the same way they had from the outside. They tried not to make noise on their way upstairs, because the closest room to them was Sam's and they didn't want to wake him. As they made their way down the dark hallway, a light could be seeing coming through the half-closed door of the room they was headed for. Then, once in front of it, they could hear a soft sigh as the song finished playing for the second time.

They wanted to go in and talk to him, as they both used to do all those times they visited him in the prision of Berlin. But they knew that this might be the last time they would be able to enjoy his presence, alone, and without a huge pane of solid glass between them, preventing even the slightest contact. They was terrified at the thought that this was, indeed, the last time they would be able to experience such a moment with him. So in a way they didn't want to go inside either, thus preventing that dreaded last time from coming.

But he was calling them. He was looking for them through the melody.

They shook their head and sighed, before plucking up the courage and knocking softly on the door, receiving as an answer the repetition of the melody they loved so much.

It was an invitation, no doubt.

"Helmut." whispered the man's name.

He moved a little, thus making room for them both on the bench on which he was sitting. A few moments later they were sitting together in silence. They rested their head on his shoulder and sighed sadly.

They began to play the piano with him, using only one hand, as he did and knew how to do so. It seemed incredible that this was the first time they had played that majestic instrument together, because with the synchrony and affinity they had when doing it, it seemed that they had been doing it together for years.

It was a matter of hours, hopefully days, before Helmut would be arrested again and taken to prison, most likely to a higher security prison than the one in Berlin. He would probably end up on the Raft.

They would not be able to see him. Never.

Tears began to fall down their cheeks silently. The Sokovian took their hand, wordlessly, brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of the hand, and another on the palm, afterwards. They looked up, and with theit eyes burning with tears, watched him in detail.

He was the most beautiful thing their had ever seen.

The man looked at them and smiled sadly. Then, he took their face and began to kiss the areas where the tears had previously fallen. They could not help but sob at that gentle and intimate gesture. He could also not help it, but keep doing that.

Zemo leaned his forehead against theirs. "Thank you." Was what he said before kissing their forehead, then bringing both foreheads back together. They brought their hands to either side of his face, and caressed his cheeks. "Thank you for being the one constant thing in my life these past eight years. For coming to visit me and spending time with me, even... after I broke up your family."

"Helmut..." They searched his gaze and smiled sweetly at him when they made eye contact. Tears began to form in his eyes as well, something they had never imagined they would ever see. "Helmut..." They repeated his name as if it were a prayer.

Then he began to cry. "I fell in love with you." It was all the man managed to say in a small whisper before he broke away from them slightly. "I love you." He said again to them, who had remained static as they heard him say that, but as they heard him speak again, couldn't help but wrap their arms around the Baron's neck, causing him to wrap his arms around their waist and hide his face in their neck.

"I love you too." confessed to him, as they felt both of their hearts go wild. They could also feel Zemo's wet tears on their neck. "And that's why I can't let you go. I can't lose you now... and never see you again."

The Sokovian looked up and took their face, and did something that caught them by surprise. He kissed them for the first time, and as if it were the last time too. They momentarily separated from Zemo and stood up, so that they could stand in front of him and straddle his lap. Zemo couldn't help but smile before kissing them again and wrapping his arms around them in a tight embrace. They for their part took to caressing his still wet cheeks as they kissed softly and sweetly.

"M-Maybe... maybe there's a place. For you and I, right?" they asked hopefully as they looked into Helmut's eyes and played with his now slightly tousled hair.

He was silent for a few moments as he stroked their back affectionately, looking at them with a soft gaze. "We both know the fact that I'm going to be arrested sooner or later is inevitable." He replied bringing a hand to their cheek. "I don't think there is one here." He answered in a whisper with a slight tone of pain.

He hated to think of the possibility of never being able to see them again in this lifetime, which he knew was most likely for both of them.

"Then... in another life, another time... there could be a place for you and I? For us?"

"There could be a place." Helmut said as he drew them back to him in an embrace. "I know. Definitely, there could be a place."

And so the two of them stood in silence, embracing and imagining what that place could be like.

How their place would be like.

Feedback is so appreciated, please let me know what you think. If you have any request send them my way! ❤️

159 notes · View notes

loveofafangirl · 3 years

Text

Light Up The Sky ⚡️

[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]

Pairing: Baron Zemo x Reader (no gender, race, body type given)

Synopsis: You're fascinated by the storm developing outside but Zemo insists you wait out the storm from the safety of the house with him. *Fluff*

Word Count: <900

A/N: I wrote this yesterday, but never had a chance to post it. I hope you enjoy it. Also, I really love thunderstorms and definitely need someone to remind me not to stand in the rain where I could get struck by lightning 🙈

The room darkens around. You peer up over the top of the book you were reading. The daylight that had once flooded the space has quickly disappeared.

You close the book and open the sliding glass door of the patio to get a better look. Dark storm clouds now blanket the sky, though you still feel the heavy, humid air pressing down on you. The wind grows more powerful, rustling through the upturned leaves. You take a step out of the door, letting the warm breeze wash over you.

The first drop of rain splatters down, landing on your cheek. You close your eyes, savoring the cool drops falling on your skin. It feels good. You hope this shower will break the oppressing humidity and bring some reprieve. Before long, the heavens open up.

"Ahh!" You scream gaily, not having expected such a drastic shift. You start to jump for the door but, the water is refreshing, and you can't help but stay and let it cascade over you. Your clothes cling to you almost immediately under the downpour. The air cools with each passing second; you breathe deeply, enjoying the sweet scent of the rain-soaked earth.

A low rumble of thunder pulls you from your thoughts. The wild wind blows around you. Leaves and small branches gather on the patio.

"What are you doing?" Zemo calls, standing in the doorway. His gaze travels over you.

"It's invigorating!" You declare as if this answers his question. You toss your head back, letting the rain cover you.

A flash of lightning illuminates the sky in the distance; the thunder that follows grows louder.

"Come inside, Y/N," Zemo insists. His tone is stern, catching you by surprise. "It is not safe."

"It's fine! I counted the seconds between the strike and the thunder. It's still a safe distance away." You turn to him, hoping to win him over. You realize you never shut the door behind you. The floor beneath him is glossy with fallen rain that the whipping winds sent into the house. "Whoops."

A sheet of rain pelts your back as the storm grows more violent. Another blast of wind carries leaves tumbling into your home.

"Y/N!"

Though the cool water feels delightful, the sting of the heavy rain encourages you to follow his directions. You hop back inside, almost slipping on the pool of water. "Oof!"

Zemo catches you, wrapping you in his strong arms. "Let us get you dried off."

"Not yet." You turn back to watch the storm growing outside. A bright burst of lightning lights up the sky. Your eyes widen at the majesty of it, as you hum your appreciation.

The thunder that follows this time is much closer than the last; the storm is moving faster than you had anticipated. You watch the turbulent clouds roll across the sky.

"I think it is time that we move away from the windows," Zemo encourages. He places a guiding hand on your hip.

"It's fine!" You maintain, but his arm circles you, pulling you away, leaving no room for arguments.

"I would feel much better if I knew that you were safe away from the potential of the shattering of the glass."

You want to protest, but you love his concern and protection. You lean into him. "Okay."

Zemo leads you to the couch with him, keeping you in his arms. He doesn't care that your wet clothes are now saturating his own. He only wants you safe, and he knows the best way to do that is to keep you close. It was one of his quirks you loved most.

A strike of lightning flashes and a crash of thunder roars almost simultaneously. You instinctively jump, and your breath catches as the walls seem to rattle at the deafening sound surrounding you.

He nuzzles into you, his beard scratching lightly across the wet fabric covering your shoulder. His voice low, almost drowned out by the heavy rain beating against the house. "I thought you liked the thunderstorms and were not afraid?"

"I do. I was just startled. That's all!"

He hugs you a little closer to his chest. His brow raises challengingly. "I am not so sure of this any longer."

Thunder booms again. You can feel its reverberation to your core. Your body trembles again. "I'm not scared. It's just louder than I expected." Your gaze drifts out the window to the now violet sky peppered with flashes of lightning. "I mean, look at that...It's beautiful!"

The corner of his lip turns up as he smirks. "Yes... you are." He kisses your temple tenderly. His warm lips burn pleasantly against your cool skin.

You nudge him playfully, stirring in his lap.

"I am not letting you go until the storm it is over." Zemo holds you more securely; his lips press together in a mischievous grin. "It is for your own safety and protection, Liebling. You simply cannot be trusted."

You feign protest, trying to escape, but he holds you closer. He kisses you softly, painting a slow path across your cool, wet skin. The warmth of his breath lingers; your body shivers under his careful attention until your focus is entirely on him. The melody of the storm becomes a distant soundtrack as you relax contently into his arms.

Marvel Perma(til the end of the line): @the-soot-sprite ; @fandomxreaders ; @moonstuffsteve

Zemo tags: @montypythonsholysnail ; @killsandthrills ; @noavengers ; @nalabarnes1031 ; @trelaney ; @willowtheewisp ; @marchingicenotes7 ; @valquiria3000 ; @swooning-for-mc-avoy ; @coffeewithoutcaffeine ; @charistory

210 notes · View notes

nocapesdahling · 3 years

Text

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 1

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Summary: You are the head of Research and Development for your squad in Sokovia and also serve as its handler. Your leader is the esteemed Colonel Helmut Zemo, your best friend though you’ve often sometimes wished that it could be more than that.

Rating: Mature (17+)

There is currently no explicit sexual content planned for this fic, but there may be things heavily implied as we move forward so rating it M to be safe. Please respect the rating.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Canon pairing of Heike Zemo/Helmut Zemo; implied potential polyamory; Zemo likes to be called Sir; Referenced Age Difference; Angst will be coming in subsequent chapters.

A/N: Hi everyone! Helmut Zemo and this idea would not leave me alone. This is my first reader fic and my first fic published on Tumblr, so I would love to hear what you think. This will be a multi-chapter fic, covering Age of Ultron, Civil War, and TFATWS. The first three chapters will cover AOU. Zemo and everyone in this chapter are speaking Sokovian, but it's written in English. It is assumed that the reader’s nickname exists in the Sokovian alphabet.

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

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Summary: Everything was normal. Well as normal as it could be in the day in the life of a handler for a Sokovian covert intelligence squad when robots began to attack Novi Grad and things…well, things went downhill from there.

You had met Baron Helmut Zemo years ago, though you hadn’t known he was a baron back then, in what felt like another life and had been by his side ever since. You served as the tech wizard and handler for his team of EKO Scorpions, outfitting them with gadgets, designing their suits and masks, and acting as tech support for their missions. Zemo had jokingly referred to you as Q when you presented him with his purple mask for the first time and to your slight embarrassment it had stuck. No one on the team had called you anything else since.

Now, machines had attacked Novi Grad and you had to do something for Sokovia, for her people. You tried hacking the machines to no avail. You’d get into one and then it would fall over lifeless as though it never worked in the first place. The algorithm was constantly changing and the AI was too complex without your specially designed work equipment, which was currently in your base miles outside the city and not your apartment, so it was time for plan B.

You focused on getting your people out of the city and saving as many civilians as possible. A swarm of robots attacking seemed like something that would attract the attention of the Avengers, but they weren’t here yet and you couldn’t sit idly by waiting for them to arrive. You called the members of your team and reached almost all of them. They were stationed around the city, doing their parts to help civilians as covertly as possible. Your team was not used to doing anything without their masks, which you did not tend to bring home, but this was an extraordinary situation so you would all do what you must.

You had reached everyone, except Helmut. He wasn’t picking up via his phone or his earpiece, and you couldn’t help but worry about him and his family. You had all been called to (well, ordered if you were being technical) to defend the city, but your squad wouldn’t function the same without its leader.

You needed Colonel Helmut Zemo.

This was the first time in a long time that you had been out in the field, preferring to be behind the scenes, but you were capable and skilled enough to be there. Zemo had made sure of it.

________________________________________________________________

Flashback:

You were designing an exploding pen in the lull between missions, just for fun, when you registered Helmut’s presence in the room. You had no idea how long he had been standing there as you often got lost in your head, especially while working on a diverting project. Your brain flitted from one thought to the next and fixated on solving different problems or creating new gadgets. The outside world became a blur to you. Helmut’s voice was one of the few things that could draw you out of it. It had been like that since you first met him. Maybe, it was the timbre of his voice that always seemed to reach you even when you were figuratively miles away. His deep voice was so lovely.

“How useful do you think that would be, my Q?” Helmut’s voice was amused and fond.

You turned to face your best friend ready to excitedly tell him the multitude of uses for the exploding pen in the field, when your breath caught in your throat. Sometimes, it took you aback how handsome he was. He was wearing his military uniform today and he looked too attractive in it. It wasn’t even fair.

His hair often fell on his forehead, giving you the urge to brush it away. It was difficult for you to resist the urge to touch that lock of hair and him in general, but you were succeeding so far. Somehow. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for that. You thought you deserved it.

A man shouldn’t look so good with a gun in his hand either, even if it was one you designed. There was something undeniably sexy about the way Helmut used your gadgets, which took you so much time and effort to make. He took the time to understand them and utilize their full abilities. It made you feel like he was making the effort to understand you.

His smooth and confident motions were also mesmerizing to watch via the screen, while you directed the squad on missions. You had never allowed yourself to get too distracted by him, but acknowledged the beauty of his savagery that he occasionally employed to get the job done.

It was a toss up between which look you liked better, the military uniform or the dark purple sweater and coat he wore for certain missions. You had made sure that his shoulder holsters fit under it and that everything looked smooth. God, you loved how he looked in that coat. (You would also admit to admiring how the shoulder holsters looked on him too).

You took him in. His hands were encased in black leather gloves and his hair was mussed from his mask, but he looked good like always even having just come back from a mission. You took a glance down at his hands.

No blood this time, thank goodness.

You attempted to snap yourself out of it, hoping Helmut wouldn’t notice. Your brain was being particularly uncooperative today, pointing out everything you shouldn’t notice. Your mind was filled with of images of how it would feel for Helmut to caress and handle you the way he did the guns and gadgets you presented to him, what the leather of his gloves would feel like on your bare skin, and how it would feel to trace the multitude of scars you knew he received from missions not just on his chest but all over his body.

Maybe, it was time to find a new romantic partner that Helmut couldn’t scare away. He had intimidated the last one away within minutes of meeting them, and you hadn’t bothered to try to meet someone since.

What was the point when Helmut vetoed them as soon as you introduced them?

Given some of your current thoughts, it was probably time to do something about the lack of romance in your life. With your luck however, they would take one look at Helmut and run for the hills in both a figurative and literal sense. The man was quietly intimidating at the best of times, but when he actually tried he oozed danger. You almost couldn’t blame your possible partner. Meanwhile, when his full focus and attention were on you, you felt flustered and hot in a way you had never felt with anyone else though you attempted not to show it. You thought that you had been rather successful at that, though who could tell with Helmut? The man might have known about your crush on him for ages, but hadn’t said anything to save your pride.

(Helmut did in fact know and found it adorable. He and Heike had once mused about adding you as a third and equal part of their relationship, because both had seen the way you watched them even if you might not have noticed them watching you back. That reminded him that he needed to bring that up with Heike once more when he returned home. He schooled his face to give nothing away before continuing to watch you as you stayed lost in your thoughts. He would coax you out of it soon, but enjoyed watching your face as your brain worked.)

You attempted to shake your thoughts away again, knowing that at this point if Helmut hadn’t noticed your inattention before then he certainly had now. The man was happily married to a wonderful and gorgeous woman, who you adored, and you were his son’s godparent for goodness sake. You might have had a chance at one point years ago. You had thought your friendship might have become something more, but that had been before Helmut had met Heike.

What chance did you have with a Baron, anyway?

Helmut had stepped closer, while you were lost in your musings and reached for your hand. “Where have you gone Q, darling? Have I lost you in your head again?”

You snapped out of it and almost jumped back because of his new proximity. His brown eyes bored into yours with slight crinkles in the corners, showing his joking mood. You shook your head and hoped again that he didn’t notice the reason for your distraction, though you didn’t have much hope. The man noticed everything.

“I was just thinking about the improvements I could make to the exploding pen and how you all could use it on your missions!” you exclaimed, excitement in your voice and face as you spoke of your work. You hoped your enthusiasm would divert him from questioning what had distracted you.

Helmut chuckled softly and played along, “May I?”. He indicated the pen that was still sitting in your hand. His lips were slightly upturned. He knew how passionate you got about your gadgets.

“Of course, Colonel,” you smirked back and handed him the pen. Your hands brushed, the leather of his gloves caressing your palm.

Helmut stepped closer to the light and examined the pen. “I can already think of several uses for this, my Q, though I did happen to notice something about this particular pen.” He turned on his heel and held the pen up for your perusal as though you hadn’t spent the last hour examining and perfecting it. You played along, leaning closer as if to examine the pen. Helmut loved his games, and you had never been anything but a willing participant.

“Hmm?” you made a questioning sound as you straightened your blazer and looked away to avoid eye contact in the hopes that he would come closer with your faux avoidance of his question.

You heard him step nearer, knowing that he could walk silently if he chose and that he wanted you to hear him. “Look at me, my Q. Where has this shyness come from, hmm?” His hand was on your chin, tilting your head up before you could respond.

At some point, when you weren’t looking, he had taken his gloves off and you had to stifle a shiver as his gun calloused warm hand touched the bare skin of your face. A brief thought crossed your mind of what that hand would feel like elsewhere before he let you go, staying a little too close for your piece of mind.

“There you are,” He smiled at you, a full one that was more rare than you would have liked. “Now, Q, you know what I noticed? This pen,” and here he drew your attention back to the pen by playfully flourishing it like the showman he was, “is one of mine. I am the only one on the team that uses this brand. Do you know how much a Mont Blanc costs, darling?”

You shook your head and smiled sheepishly. You knew vaguely that they were expensive, but it was the best kind of pen for this sort of thing so you hadn’t thought twice. “No, but it was the most sturdy pen and I knew that you, Boss, would be the one most likely to use it once it was done. So I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used your pen.”

Internally, you wanted to laugh. You knew that Helmut would not have let another member of the squad get away with some of the stuff you pulled. You were the only one who called him Boss, though you had experimented with calling him Sir like the rest of your squad. That had brought an odd light to his eyes that you had never been able to quite decipher. He had almost looked hungry. You refrained from calling him Sir too often after that, except when you really wanted something or intended to tease him.

Helmut smirked at you as he slipped the pen into his pocket, “I’ll be keeping this, Q. Usual activation, I presume?”

You smiled back, attempting to stop yourself from bouncing up and down on your heels. He and the rest of the squad always praised your gadgets, but it gave you a secret and special sort of thrill to have Helmut’s approval in particular. “Of course, Boss.”

“Now, for the actual reason I came here before we got so delightfully distracted by the products of your brain, you and I are going to the gun range. I happened to notice you haven’t been there in some time, Q.”

“I’ve been busy,” you protested while knowing he wouldn’t buy it, “Being the team’s handler and tech wizard is hard work.”

You had never enjoyed committing violence yourself, so tended to avoid the range, though you had never minded watching Helmut on his solo missions and as he lead the team on group missions. The thought passed through your head again that the man looked sexier than he should in full uniform with a gun in his hand. You shook your head in an attempt to dislodge your thoughts. You weren’t sure where they had come from today, but you wanted them to stop and stop now. You resolved once again to pursue a new relationship. Helmut was your friend and could not be anything more, no matter your fantasies and dreams.

“I know you work hard, darling Q, and that you can handle yourself, but you must practice in case the worst were to happen and we needed you in the field. I know you have the needed patience, my Q, with your line of work, but you must gain the experience. A person can do anything if they have those. You can do anything… I’ve known that ever since I first met you when you were a young student. How many grades did you skip again? Look how much you’ve accomplished and you’re still so young.”

You ignored his question about the grades you had skipped. You had been something of a child prodigy and had been younger than the average grad student. “Yeah, yeah, Boss and you’re such an old man. Also, I’m not that much younger than you. Do you remember our first conversation in the library?”

“Of course, Q. I’ll never forget it, even when I am actually an old man. You got my attention by your book selections. Machiavelli and hmm what was the second one?”

You noticed again that Helmut truly was in a joking mood today. The mission must have gone well. They hadn’t needed you to act as the handler for this one, but you were glad there’d been no mishaps. Sometimes, after a difficult mission, Helmut brought his field persona back to the base. During those instances, his demeanor gave off the impression of a man who would do whatever necessary to accomplish his goals. No matter what was required. You hated to say it, but when he was like that you were a little turned on. (Well, more than a little but you weren’t going there at the moment).

You had always had a thing for intelligent and ruthless men, which now that you thought about it had started once you met Helmut, and his domineering field persona made you feel hot. You gave up on controlling your thoughts today as that seemed to be a lost cause, and internally sighed. Heike was a lucky woman.

“You’ll never let that one go, will you? It was for my course. Read one German erotic book or two, and no one ever lets you forget it.”

“Or two, my Q? Who said anything about a second one?”

“No one. Not me. Moving on, anyway you think anyone younger than you is young, Helmut. Also, you look younger than your actual age.”

“Yes, I know. Helps for undercover missions.”

“Of course, it does. Did you even need those glasses you were wearing when we met or were they just there to make you look more studious?”

He laughed and gestured for you to lead the way to the range, not answering your somewhat rhetorical question. “Let’s go, Q. I have to see how rusty you’ve gotten. Afterwards, perhaps if you’re good, I will teach you how to wield a sword.”

“Oh I’ll show you how good I can be, Sir.”

End Flashback

_____________________________________________________________

Well, the so-called worst had happened and you were out in the field, facing killer robots of all things. You were working in conjunction with your squad to evacuate and protect neighbors and strangers alike, but it was different being out here as opposed to behind a screen. You had finally been able to reach Helmut, and he had gotten Heike and Carl to safety outside the city with his father on their estate. You had breathed a sigh of relief at that. They would be safe there, and you did not need to worry about them. He had also reported that the Avengers had finally arrived and that they had been able to see them from their car window, which meant that it was time for your squad to finish up and get out of there.

Helmut was elsewhere in the city, and your squad was one of the only ones still in Novi Grad proper, so you were spread thin. Yet you couldn’t help but wish to see Helmut, to embrace him for what could be the last time. You had faith in your squad and the Avengers, but this was your country and your people at stake. That unwavering faith lasted until Novi Grad’s, your home’s, streets began to splinter and the city began to lift from the ground faster than you would have thought possible and no one seemed to be able to stop it, not even “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

86 notes · View notes

averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

Text

Four’s A Party | Dysfunctional Quartet | TFATWS post series P.1

Set after the events of TFATWS

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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

Warnings: profanity, mentions of violence, past criminal behavior, banter. Flirting but it’s platonic. Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns, sorry if they are any she/her I will edit this and fix it at some point) | roughly 1k-3k+ words unedited.

Four’s A Party Premise: After taking deals and agreeing to partake in a secret operation against Hydra, a team consisting of two Avengers and two high skilled criminals are teamed up and tasked to take down the terrorist instillation and operatives. The mission is simple, but with a quartet this dysfunctional mishaps and drama are expected to happen. Can they survive their ordeal? Maybe, if they don’t kill each other first.

_________

“This is not a good idea,” Bucky grumble beside Sam. The two were walking through a CIA base to meet Agent Everett Ross for a briefing on the mission the CIA was giving them. Although they were all for tracking down Hydra, neither were very pleased when they were told two ‘former’ criminals would be joining them on their endeavor.

One of which they were very familiar with.

But seeing as the CIA and other government agencies were willing to look past the fact they broke out Helmut Zemo from a German prison months prior, they were going to do whatever they told them.

“You’ve been saying that all week, Buck.”

The super soldier glared at him, “Can you blame me, Sam? We are basically being blackmailed to help these people—only doing this so we don’t end up in prison.”

“Yes,” Sam agreed then tried to reason with the man. “I don’t like the terms of us doing this, but it’s for the best. We can’t let Hydra get control— and the Power Broker if they are working together. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“I don’t remember us having to babysit criminals—.”

“Well actually—.”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Sam scoffed but let out a chuckle. With that being said, here they were at the CIA. And although Sam wasn’t too happy with the circumstances, he wasn’t going to brood about it the entire time like bionic staring machine beside him. The two arrived at the end of the corridor where two guards were, they both stood to the side allowing them to pass and enter the room.

The space was large and open, resembling a garage. Which turned out to be true when the hangar door opened revealing three dark SUVs piling in and parking to the side. Agent Ross steps out of the first one, smiling at the men and walking over. “Ah Sam! James! It’s good to see you again.”

Sam shook his outstretched hand, “Good to see you too, man.” Ross then moved over to Bucky, who shook his hand as well but didn’t respond and only nodded.

“Well, glad to see you two found your way nice and easy. Before we get started why don’t you two meet the rest of your team—although one you already know well as you know.” Bucky made a noise of distrust, but Ross ignored it. He motioned to the officer of the second vehicle, who opened the back door and stepping to the side so an Agent could exist with Zemo following behind him.

The Baron was cuffed both on his hands and ankles, still wearing his raft prison uniform and a slight beard adorned his face. He’s pulled over to the group, his face consorting a smirk. “Hello, Sam,” he greets, “James. It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Bucky grumbles causing Sam to nudge his side.

“What’s up, El Chapo.” The man nods, not missing the way Zemo’s lips had curled up at the nickname. Ross is quick to cut their attention back to them.

“Y’all can play catch up tomorrow on the plane to your first location, now lets get you acquainted with your other complaining for this little adventure you’ll be going on.” Another nod from the Agent has the man beside the second car moving to the third SUV. The door opens with another agent stepping out with a very annoyed expression painted on his face. There’s mumbling behind him and soon a figure—also cuffed like Zemo—steps out with the help of the agent.

“Finally. I thought we’d never arrive with that driving homeboy was doing.” The person in a grey and white inmate jumpsuit dramatically moaned, chains clinking with every move. “Although you boys were some great company, too bad it’s over now.” The agent looked more than pleased to finally be rid of the criminal, his face look at Ross with a ‘don’t ever have me assigned to them again.’

Finally the person was in everyone’s view, and they all recognized the criminal hacker/cyberterrorist—Y/N L/N aka Hotwire. Their demeanor was different from someone they’d assume would be physically and mentally exhausted from being in prison—the Vault nonetheless—but Y/N was acting like their usual self. The same way they did in their interview with Ross.

Seeing their attention on them, Y/N immediately grinned—their eyes going to Everett. “Agent Rossi!” The man groaned at the nickname they failed to let go. “Good to see you again handsome, how long has it been? Almost a week? Man time sure does fly when you’re locked up.” They raise their cuffed hands, shaking them a little to emphasis their words. Their eyes then move to the men around Ross.

“Gentlemen, this is Y/N L/N. I assume you already read their file and know everything there is to know,” Y/N laughs sarcastically at his words as to say ‘as if’. “—They’re gonna be your eyes and ears on everything inside the deep dark web.” The hacker looks between the trio, falling their glance on the two heroes.

“Well lookey here, we got the famous Captain America and his trusty side kick The Winter Soldier—oh excuse me, former Winter Soldier.” They let out a giggle at Sam and Bucky’s glare. “I knew you two would be my little guards on this adventure we’re going on, but man the photos do not do you justice. You both look way better in person.”

The two Avengers didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered by the comment, so they both decided to stay quiet—still processing the info. Y/Ns eyes slowly travel to their fellow cuffed companion. “And if it isn’t Baron Zemo! Oh it’s great to finally meet you—I must say I was quite impressed when I found out you managed to decrypt the Hydra files Black Widow leaked. Although….,” Y/Ns turns to a more condescending expression. “I could’ve gotten you what you wanted had you came to me first. Didn’t have to go through all that trouble with the U.N and Grandpa Terminator here if you did.”

The Baron was simply speechless, but eventually finds his voice. “If I had known you existed at the time, legendary Hotwire,” he nearly smirked when Y/N cringed and groaned at the nickname. “—I would have. But unfortunately desperate times called for desperate measures. I’m surprised to see you’d been captured, Y/N. When I read your file last week I saw you were rather good at staying under the radar.”

They rolled their eyes, not offended by the hidden insult. “Don’t get drunk and play triple dog, hacking while under the influence can get rather messy—throw in a dude who enables bad decisions while also under the influence and you might find yourself playing your cards wrong. But I wish they sent me to where you’re at. Your uniform is much better than this ugly ass get up they got me in,” they look down at the jumpsuit with a disgusted look. “The Vault sure knows how to kill fashion.”

“Okayyy,” Ross cuts in before Zemo could reply. “Now that we got introductions out of the let’s get down to business shall we? Go ahead and uncuff them, but get the monitors.” Agents on either side of the criminals began uncuffing the two. Y/N let out a breath of relief, soothing their hands over their wrists.

“Ahh freedom at last—hey!” Their joy is stopped short when an agent takes their ankle, securing a device around it and putting in a code to lock it. “What the hell is this?” They see agents doing the same on Zemo. “Agent Rossi you didn’t say anything about leashing us!”

The Agent motions for them to follow when he starts walking to a table in the middle of the room. “It’s part of the terms for your temporal release, L/N. You’re now under government supervision, and as long as you stick to your role then you won’t have to worry about us tacking you down to throw you back in prison. And don’t think you can get out of it, Mr. Murdock already agreed to the deal.”

The hacker couldn’t help but glare, “Damned Devil.” They noticed Zemo was also displeased by the info. “Wish they could’ve warned us when we signed the contract,” they mutter next to him, and the man nodded.

They formed around the table, Ross placing several folders onto the surface while two agents were behind Y/N and Zemo respectively. Sam and Bucky were in between them and all attention was on Ross. “You all were informed in your interviews for this assignment what we’re up against. It’s suspected Hydra is on the rise and we don’t know what they want, who they’re working with, and if it has connection to other suspicious activity. The job is simple: Find out what Hydra is up to and any associates possibly in contact with them.

“Everyone in this room has had either direct contact with Hydra—,” Ross makes eye contact with Sam, Bucky, and Zemo before settling on Y/N. “—or possess the necessary skills needed to draw them out. The U.N and federal government agencies are counting on you to complete this mission, and find any evidence of Hydra’s underground dealings. We don’t know how long this has been going on for, but if it’s anything like how they managed to stay under the guise of Shield for several decades then we know what we’re up against.”

Ross takes a moment to pause and scatter through the files. “I don’t feel the need to assign you all roles—as with all your experience, both legal and illegal—I hope you four manage whatever you decide to do in order to complete the goal. L/N, your main objective on this mission is to break the firewalls and hack whatever you see fit to uncover what secrets may lie.” The man ignores the mock salute the vigilante sent him.

“—sir, yes sir—.”

“Zemo,” the Baron straightens his posture, “You have a lot of resources and can even maybe land L/N a hand or two if needed—but both of you please try to stay out of trouble and not give Bucky and Sam here a reason to kill you.” The criminals share a look, smirking but the man lightheartedly replies ‘fair.’

The agent finally turns to the Avengers. “Sam, Bucky, I know you guys have a way that works best for you on missions and I trust whatever plan you decide to enact. However, you both are responsible for making sure these two—,” he points to the Zemo and Y/N, “do not step over the line and do whatever you ask them to. Are we all clear on what is expected of us?” he looks between them like a teacher would on schoolchildren.

“We’re clear.” “Whatever.” “Duly noted, Agent Ross.” “Clear as the sunshine on a warm summer day.”

The agent wanted to drop his head at the rage of replies he received from the group. Part of him thinking, ‘this is not going to work out well.’ He nods firmly, passing them each folders with all the necessary info they were going to need on their first target. “Good. Here’s your first order of business and my men will escort you to the jet when you’re ready.”

“Jet?” Y/N asked with curiosity, eyes scanning the front page on the folder. “Where are we going, Rossi? And why so soon?”

“There was activity detected from a location just outside of Bucharest,” Ross eyes briefly met Bucky’s, who looked like he wanted to punch a wall with how tense his forehead was creasing. “We think it could be linked to the stolen tech from an old base they operated. So we want you to go to Bucharest and see what it’s about. Now remember this is a track and report operation for the most part—so we don’t want you guys going in guns a blazing or having to get to that level, but we know things never turn out how we expect so you will be equipped to handle anything thrown at you.”

“Wonderful,” Bucky closes the folder. “When do we leave.”

Ross checks his watch, “Whenever you feel the need—though we’d like it to be before nightfall so you can get started first thing in the morning. I take it you two would want to change before your departure.” The agent looks to Zemo and Y/N, still decked out in their prison attire, and the hacker made a mock offense expression.

“What you don’t like my style?” They give a little spin with their arms out. “Does it scream too much ‘the only company I get is gray walls and a rock hard pillow?’” Zemo lets out a snort, but is quick to cover it up and Y/N smirks. “C’mon Rossi, it’s been my signature look for months now.”

The Agent isn’t humored by Y/Ns behavior. “Theirs a change of clothes in the lockers over there and the bathrooms are to the back. Take as much time as you need and inform when you’re heading out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to inform the head of the department of what just took place so the U.N is informed this operation is now set in motion.” Everett picks up his files and moves to the door without a second look, another agent following behind him.

Once he’s gone, the silence is interrupted by a loud ‘phew’ by Y/N. “Glad that’s over. I can’t wait to get out of this fit,” they look back down at the jumpsuit. “I haven’t felt the nice touch of a leather jacket in so long—It’s calling my name.”

Sam glances around, noticing how the agents still in the room were talking amongst themselves. “Well I guess we’re just supposed to do whatever now. He said to let him know when we leave. What do you say we do first, Buck.”

“Don’t look at me,” the super soldier grumbles. “I’m not looking forward going back to Bucharest. Things didn’t turn out so great last time I was there,” his hard gaze went to Zemo, thinking back to when he was falsely accused of the bombing and forced out of his hiding. The Baron doesn’t react to his glare, fully used to the menacing stare Bucky always gave him.

“Apologies again, James.”

“Whatever,” the man responds, turning back to Sam. “Let’s just hurry up and get started. The quicker we get through this then the quicker we get to go home and have these two off our hands.”

Y/N snorts at his words. “Oh man I was looking forward to becoming friends with you, Sargent blue eyes.” Bucky already knew he was gonna get tired of the nicknames. “Don’t look too sad, I promise to behave—I can be great company once you get to know me.” When no one responds Y/N rolls their eyes, tone taking a more serious approach. “God, lighten up. We might as well try to break the ice if we’re gonna be working together. I don’t know about you three, but I can’t work well if there’s tension and animosity. I know y’all read my file and all ready have an idea to what I’m like, but there’s more to me than just be a petty criminal I know you self-righteous heroes see me to be.”

They don’t wait for the men to reply, leaving them in silence while they moved to the lockers to grab whatever random clothes were hanging before making their way to the bathroom. When they returned minutes later, they were dressed in a black cotton tee with jeans and—much to their pleasure—a black leather jacket. They also managed to snag a pair of sunglasses from the lucky, the accessory laying on top of their head.

“So you boys ready to get this show on the road,” Y/N ask, as if the last ten minutes and their little outburst hadn’t happened. Sam blinked a few times, a little surprised their demeanor had switched so quick. He looks over the files once more before turning his gaze to Zemo, brow raised. “You’re not gonna change?”

The Baron shakes his head, “I’d rather prefer to wait until I could get my hands on something a little more…” he trails off glancing at Y/Ns clothes, “my style if you can understand.”

The hacker lets out a scoff. “Suit yourself, rich boy.” They then look between the three, tucking the file underneath their armpit. “So did you guys come up with a fancy cool nickname for our little super secret heist we got going on? You know how like you boys have the avengers and Hell’s Kitchen has the defenders—which I’m still upset they wouldn’t let me join after I found out that m—.”

“We’re not naming ourselves,” Bucky is quick to reject.

“Oh c’mon,” they pout. “It would make this so much more fun.”

“We got better things to worry about, Y/N,” Sam says and then adds, “Can I call you Y/N or do you prefer something else?” The hacker just looks at him like ‘really dude?’

“What the hell else are you gonna call me?”

“Well Ross kept saying your last name and you didn’t correct him.”

“Cause he’s the government’s guard dog who doesn’t like criminals—of course he’s gonna call me by my last name.” They let out a groan of annoyance, “I don’t care what you call me—as long as it’s not Hotwire please God—.”

Zemo finally starts to speak after being silent for most of the hour making Y/N hold thier tongue back from what they were about to say. “You know what just came to mind?” The group waits for him to continue. “They say two’s company, and three’s a crowd. What would you say to four—cause there’s four of us here you know.”

The smirk returns on Y/N’s face. “Four,” they test it on their lips, the smirk widening. “Four’s a party. So let’s go get our party on fellas. Time to bring some chaos to those Hydra scum.”

102 notes · View notes

munsons-maiden · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 (𝟑/𝟑)

Hi lovelies, thank you so much for all the feedback on the first two parts! Every single like, reblog and comment makes me incredibly happy 🖤 I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Helmut Zemo x gender neutral reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | ENEMIES TO LOVERS (because I’m dying for that trope 😂) You’ve been turned into the thing Helmut Zemo hates the most (sorry again for the bad summary, I didn’t want to spoiler the plot) *in my best street vendor voice*: it's got ANGST, it's got DRAMA, it’s got HUMOR, it's got STEAMY FIGHT SCENES (no smut, nothing explicit) and it's got SO. MUCH. ROMANTIC. TENSION. 😂.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 8 k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Canon-typical violence, blood, a dash of angst but not much, a few f-bombs. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language

Flashbacks are written in italics

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡

PART 1 PART 2

When the darkness receded at last and the agonizing pain in your body subsided, your eyes fluttered open to sunlight tickling your nose, little dust motes floating in the golden rays, and a warm breeze made the colourful curtains beside you rustle, carrying the laughter of children playing outside. You were lying in a bed, wrapped up in thin bedsheets despite the heat outside.

Someone called out your name, and warm hands locked themselves with yours as Sam’s face came into focus in front of you, Bucky behind him, his signature scowl etched with worry.

“You gave us a good scare, sleeping beauty”, Sam said, a soft smile dancing on his lips. “How are you feeling?”

And then, the memories hit you like a train. Walker’s decent into madness, the sting in your upper arm and the unbearable pain that followed it. The pair of hazel eyes and the horrified expression shifting into a cold determination as you’d hit the ground.

“How – how long…?”, you began, voice croaky from disuse.

“You’ve been out for three days”, Bucky said, and you gasped, before he continued.

“Where are we?”

“My sister’s house in Louisiana. Well, it was our parent’s house first, we grew up here.” So the children laughing outside were Sam’s nephews; he’d told you of his family on a few occasions, in quiet moments in the old Avengers Headquarters. And his sister Sarah – whom Karli had threatened.

“Are they alright? Did Karli –“

“Everything’s fine”, Sam interrupted and helped you sit, gently placing a glass of cold lemonade in your hands. “Drink”, he commanded, and you complied, savouring the coldness and the bitter-sweet taste of the drink.

“So…”, Bucky began, but he drifted off, obviously at al loss for words about how he could broach the subject of what had happened.

“So, I’m a super soldier”, you finished the sentence for him.

“I’m gonna kill Walker”, Bucky seethed, clenching his metal arm into a fist.

“Could you…tell me what happened?”, you hesitated. What happened with Zemo?, was what you really wanted to ask them.

Sam cleared his throat and switched a quick glance with Bucky, who stared gloomily out of the open window as if the green treetops in the garden had personally offended him.

“We heard you scream”, Sam began, “And after what happened with Lemar –“

“Walker said he was killed. That it was our fault”, you interrupted him with a frown at the memory of the pain in Walker’s grief-maddened gaze.

“He was killed while we were fighting the Flagsmashers. Walker and Lemar showed up and things went south again. I think she didn’t want to kill him”, Sam added, sadness written all over his features. “It was an accident. Walker snapped. The Flagsmashers started to run, and we thought Walker would chase them and then you screamed from somewhere in that old building. When we found you, Walker jumped out of the next window and you were unconscious on the floor and Zemo was kneeling beside you with his gun aiming at you. What the hell happened up there, Y/N? Where did Zemo come from, of all people? We thought he was gone for good when he escaped the Dora so why staying in Riga when he could grab his fancy jet and hide in one of his other fancy houses?”

There was a crack, and a sudden sting in your palm. You’d gripped the glass a little too tight, and it had broken, the cold lemonade spilling over your shirt and the bedsheets and the glass shards cutting up the skin of your palms. You stared at the blood welling up from the fresh cuts, at the shards of broken glass in your hands.

“You’ll get used to it”, Bucky mused, getting up from his chair beside your bed to grab a towel. “It’ll just take a little time”, he continued while he gently grabbed the shard from your hands and pressed the towel over your bleeding palms. “And those cuts will heal much faster now, they’ll probably be gone tomorrow.”

You still gaped at the broken pieces of glass he’d placed on the nightstand. A super soldier. You were a super soldier. Walker had taken that vial and did that to you. You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.

“Walker’s a super soldier”, you whispered, “When Sam first went to talk to Karli and things escalated and we thought that Zemo had destroyed the last vials of serum, he didn’t. Walker was able to safe two vials – one for himself. One for Lemar. So he injected me with the last dose of the serum –“

“- so Zemo would kill you”, Bucky finished. “Because Walker blamed us all for Lemar’s death.”

You nodded. “As I said, he snapped. Honestly, I don’t even think he knew what he was doing in that moment. I think he just wanted to make somebody feel the same pain he was feeling.”

“Are you defending him?!”

“No. I hate him for what he’s done. But I also know what grief feels like. And he wasn’t exactly the most emotionally stable person before.”

“He was about to succeed”, Sam said quietly. “If Bucky and I hadn’t found you when we did, Zemo would’ve killed you.”

You opened to mouth to reply, but a woman’s voice called from downstairs, “GUYS! I need help with the spare parts for the boat! They need to be taken down from the truck!”

“I’ll go!”, Bucky jumped up immediately, nearly knocking over the chair in the process.

“Is…is Zemo back in prison?”, you asked when Bucky had left Sam and you, barely able to conceal the quiver that had stolen into your voice.

“No. He fled when he saw us, and chasing him certainly wasn’t our priority when we found you knocked out cold on the floor with the empty vial beside you. We pieced together what must’ve happened. Except for the part what Zemo was doing there, though.”

His eyes found yours, expectant, waiting for the answer you were dreading to give.

“I don’t know why he was there.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; the Baron had never told you the reason of his visit – just that he’d wanted to talk to you about something. About Sharon? Your mind was still a little hazy. “We fought.” Sort of. Apart from the weird tension between you and that one moment where you were sure Zemo was going to kiss you…there had been weapons involved, at least on your side.

“Then Walker was there. You know the rest.”

Sam sighed, and suddenly, he looked very tired.

“It was Zemo who sent the flowers, was it?”, he finally asked.

“It was one flower”, you corrected weakly, “Just the one.”

“Oh Lord.”

“And it was obviously, without a doubt, meant as a threat”, you added.

“Yeah, that’s a very plausible explanation. Since flowers are the most common death threats. I mean, bloody horse heads are one thing but if a guy sends you flowers, you know shit’s getting positively murderous.”

It has never been my intention to mock you with that flower. That’s what he’d said, and it had seemed genuine – before, seconds later, he’d used your distraction to disarm you and pin you against the wall. An easy distraction, that’s what it had been.

“Believe me, the only intention he had was playing his little mind games”, you said. Sam only huffed.

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

“Yes. But there’s never been another Steve Rogers”, the Baron answered. “Super soldiers are an abomination and Karli won’t stop. She will escalate until you kill her – or she kills you.”

Sam shook his head. “Blood isn’t always the right answer, Zemo.”

“But sometimes, it’s the only possible one.”

That’s what Zemo had said.

She’s a super soldier. She can’t be allowed to exist. The Baron’s words about Karli whispered in your mind, his deep, honeyed voice calm and reasonable.

There was a fierce determination in Sam’s eyes. “We won’t let Zemo hurt you, Y/N. Never. If we have to, we’ll kill him fist.”

“I’m not bullet proof, Sam. I bleed just like everyone else.”

But it wasn’t fear that you felt, thinking back to the look in the Baron’s hazel eyes when the serum had begun to spread through your bloodstream like poison, at the hatred and resolve flashing in his gaze as he’d gripped his gun. A strange kind of sadness seized your heart. But what, exactly, was it that you’d expected? He was a villain. A terrorist. And he’d torn your family apart. There was nothing good in him, and as much as your heart had wanted to see him as someone he clearly wasn’t, your feelings for him had never mattered, and they never would, not with the serum having changed you into the one thing Helmut Zemo hated the most, had dedicated his life to destroy.

“What if he’s right, though?”

“What do you mean?”

You faltered. “What if the serum changes me? What if it corrupts me and turns me into someone else?” When you’d confronted Zemo, when you’d told him that the serum wasn’t the reason for people to do bad things, you’d believed it. You’d believed that it wasn’t the serum but the circumstances which made people do bad things. But what if he was right?

“It won’t.” There was no doubt in Sam’s words. “I know you. The serum isn’t the reason why Karli is getting more and more violent, it’s the circumstances. It’s hopelessness and desperation and the way the world treats people like her. Violence is a choice. All that damn serum does is increase your speed and strength. But how you act, the decision you make – these choices are your own, Y/N.”

Silence settled between the two of you while you contemplated his words, interrupted only by Sam’s nephews, still laughing outside in the garden.

“They’re probably playing with the shield”, Sam mused, and you gaped at him.

“The shield? Steve’s shield?”

“Well, I think it’s my shield now, formally.” The grin that spread on your face mirrored his own as you grasped the meaning behind his words.

“I had a good talk with Bucky”, Sam announced, “And I realized a few things.”

You pulled him into another bear hug. “Should I call you Captain from now on, then?”, you jested, earning a low laugh from him.

“I mean, I’ll never be a Steve Rogers…”

“No, you won’t”, you agreed, “You’re a Sam Wilson, and that’s perfect the way it is.”

The next few days felt like walking through a haze. The old family house was a home – full of warmth, love, and laughter. While you waited for Karli and her Flagsmashers to make their next move, the days were spent helping the Wilson family repair the old fisher boat, side by side with the helping hands of kind neighbours and old friends of the family under the hot Louisiana sun for the first half of the day, and training with Bucky until the sun set and the cicadas’ night-time songs wafted through the sweet evening air. Your newfound strength and speed were something that would require more than a few days to get accustomed to – you’d accidentally ripped off the screen door to the veranda and had apologized to a laughing Sarah for the rest of the day for it – but it didn’t feel so unfamiliar anymore. With each passing day, you were beginning to feel like yourself again.

The nights weren’t as peaceful and fulfilling as the days drenched in sweat and sunlight and cheerful laughter. No; at first, your nights were filled the memory of searing pain, of blue liquid burning up your insides like acid, of horrid pictures of you as the serum changed your heart and soul as well as it had your body. But as the fear that it could corrupt you and change you into a monster faded with the realization that you hadn’t changed, the nightmares worsened. Horrid pictures of blood coating your own hands morphed into memories of Zemo’s hazel eyes, watching with cold detachment how his bullet hit home in your heart and the life was gushing out of you in streams of red, as red as the petals of the carnation he’d left for you at the balcony.

Each night, these nightmares left you gasping, wide awake, the sheets tangled around you like the fisher’s nets you helped mending every day, a silent scream poised on your lips. But when the sun made the morning sky blush with the announcement with another warm summer’s day, the demons of the nights vanished like mist over the water in front of the Wilson house, held at bay for another few hours, a dream chasing away the horrors of the nights. But like every dream, it was only a matter of time until reality came knocking at the door again, and this time, it came in the form of a phone call from Agent Torres. Sam’s cheerful expression had fused into one of seriousness as he ended the call.

“Karli is about to strike again. The Flagsmashers are planning to blow up the GRC headquarters in New York City.”

“Well then”, you said, already on your way to get your combat suit, casting a glance over your shoulder at the boys leaning against the kitchen counter. “Call the order, Cap.”

“Karli’s gone! She escaped!” That was Bucky, shouting at you via the comm device in your ear.

“Are you okay?”, you asked while you were prowling through the cellar of an abandoned construction site, the gloomy shadows suffused with the weak orange glow of overhead lights, gun at the ready. As soon as the three of you had arrived – just for Sam and Bucky to try and free the hostages the Flagsmashers had taken, while you’d set out to chase the Flagsmashers positioned in the area all around the GRC building – things had gone awry. Again.

Bucky’s voice buzzed through the comm, “Sam just saved a helicopter full of hostages and I got people out of a burning truck.”

“Yeah, go on and flex like that while I’m stumbling through a cellar in construction while missing all the action”, you quipped, sighing in relief to hear the boys were okay.

“Walker’s here”, Bucky added, his voice serious again. “Should I whip his ass for you? He even made a little DIY shield.”

“Maybe he should’ve stayed with arts and crafts from the start”, you seethed. “When he –“

“Y/N!”

You whirled around and quickly lowered your gun when you recognized the sudden voice booming through the half-light behind you, gaping at the blonde woman stepping out of the shadows.

“Was that Sharon?”, Bucky called out, obviously as surprised as you were.

“Well, just in time”, you greeted your old friend with a smile. Her teeth flashed white as she grinned back at you.

“You’re not exactly at the heart of the action”, she mused, her gaze sweeping over your surroundings. “But I heard Karli was coming this way, so I thought you could use some help with that.”

Just as Sharon had finished her sentence, a construction pipe whirred through the air towards you and Sharon, and your new super soldier reflexes reacted before you even realized what was happening, making you jump and kick the thing out of its trajectory before it could hit either of you. Faster than humanly possible.

For a few seconds, Sharon stared at you in surprise, and her eyes finally widened with realization.

“How did you get the serum?”, she inquired. There was something else in her gaze, mixing with the wonder, something you couldn’t pinpoint.

“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

You turned towards the small figure that had emerged from the depths of the cellar, her halo of red curls illuminated by the dim lights like a crown of flames. The mask with the red handprint was dangling in her hand, a gun in the other. Assessing her more closely, you could see the traces of a fight in her split lip and the dark bruise forming on her jaw.

You raised the gun at her and lowered yourself into combat stance, Sharon mirroring the movement beside you.

“Karli”, Sharon greeted, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness. “I’d expected you much sooner.”

“I had a little run-in with the Winter Soldier.”

“He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore,” you stated, eyes narrowed in confusion about the look that passed between the two of them, guns raised, eyeing each other like two cats readying for a fight.

“We could’ve been such a good team”, Sharon mused. At first, you thought she was talking to Karli, until you realized that her calm gaze had strayed to rest on you. And when you realized that the emotion glinting in her eyes beyond the surprise, sharp as a knife’s blade, was resentment, it was already too late.

A cry of pain tore through you as Sharon’s knife lodged itself deep in your side and you sunk to the floor, blood already spilling out of the wound in warm, sticky rivulets of crimson. You gawked at Sharon with horror written over your face, before she grabbed the knife’s hilt and pulled the weapon out of your side, doubling over with pain, and the blood gushed between your hands pressing tightly against the wound to somehow slow the bleeding. Then, a memory hit you, a memory which had been overshadowed by your turn into a super soldier and now bubbled to the surface of your mind a little too late.

Your friend Sharon Carter…

Zemo had tried to warn you.

“Y/N?! Where are you? What happened?!” Bucky’s voice shouting through the comm.

“I –“ Before you could warn him, Sharon grabbed your comm and flung it away into the dark recesses of the cellar, her gun still aiming at a frozen Karli. You doubted that the rebel would help you.

“No, no, no. I can’t have our friends knowing what happened down here, how else will I get my pardon?”, Sharon drawled, the sweetness in her voice dripping with rage.

“YOU! Stay where you are, we’re not done yet”, Sharon hissed at Karli who’d tried to take a few steps towards Sharon. The girl froze mid-motion again, the gun slightly shaking in her hands. Karli was afraid of Sharon. Why?

You were still huddled on the ground, pain searing through your side, hand firmly pressing against your injury. The serum would enhance your healing process and you’d suffered enough stab wounds in your life as an Avenger to know you’d been lucky and Sharon’s blade hadn’t pierced any vital organs, but the bleeding was a problem. There wouldn’t be much time left before the dizziness of blood loss swept over you and clouded your senses.

A succession of gunshots pierced the air and made you start and when Karli crumpled to the floor with a scream of pain, slumping like a discarded doll, you thought Sharon had shot the girl – but Sharon muttered a string of curses and the gun she’d been holding clattered to the ground and slid into the darkness surrounding you, disappearing beneath a palette of bricks in a corner. Only then did you notice the blood gushing out of a bullet wound in Sharon’s hand, rivulets of red running down her arm and soaking the sleeves of her jacket as her gaze flicked toward the silhouette stepping out of the darkness a few feet away.

“It would be wise of you not to meddle in my private matters, Miss Carter.” ��

The deep, honeyed voice was like a vise tightening around your heart and you glanced up to meet a pair of hazel eyes, filled with the cold resolve you’d last seen glittering in their depths, before his gaze flickered back to Sharon over the barrel of his gun. For a man on the run, his outfit still looked immaculate, his fur-collared coat billowing in the soft breeze that wafted through the maze of the construction site’s cellar, tousling his dark hair and painting shadows across his handsome features.

“Well, your private matters didn’t steal the serum from you, Baron”, Sharon spat through gritted teeth, as if the title were an insult, “So actually it’s you who’s meddling in my business.”

But you noticed the slight waver in her voice, the wheels churning in her mind to turn the tables again telling you that the gun she’d just lost was probably the only one she’d brought tonight, and from Zemo’s smug smile, you could tell that he’d noticed, too. What he didn’t see, though, was the knife Sharon clutched with her uninjured hand at her side, your blood already drying and dulling the sharp glint of the blade as her knuckles tightened around the hilt. Your instincts took over, adrenaline pushing back the pain in your side while your mind started to assess the situation.

Fighting is like chess, Natasha had always said. Just much faster. It’s not just about action and reaction, it’s about planning your next movements and being one step ahead of your opponent. Zemo was the only one who wasn’t injured already – Karli was still cowering on the ground a few feet away from you, clutching the wound in her knee where the Baron’s bullet had hit home, effectively rendering her unable to fight. Sharon’s strong hand was injured, she’d lost her gun but still had at least one knife left. And then there was Zemo, of course; uninjured, armed, and obviously ready to kill. The ferocity in his expression left no room for doubt about his intentions. You were in desperate need of a weapon.

Fury blazed through your veins at the thought of Sharon betraying you for whatever reason. If you couldn’t run, you could at least make sure that Sharon wouldn’t, either. You gritted your teeth against the pain that was to follow and kicked, empowered by the serum coursing through your veins, your foot hitting the back of Sharon’s knee with an ugly crunching sound and she cried out as she, too, stumbled and hit the ground, seemingly unconscious for now. Quick as lightning, you wrested the knife from her hand, left her motionless form on the ground and charged at Zemo, barrelling into him faster and more forceful than you’d anticipated, again underestimating your new powers. The two of you hit the ground with a huff with you on top of him, Sharon’s knife firm in your grip while the gun slid out of his hands, but Zemo used the leverage of the fall to twist you around, switching position so your back hit the hard concrete floor, pressing the air from your lungs. He was above you now, pinning your limbs to the ground with his own body. Anger was fuelling you, spurning you on to push him off, but the energy left you with the blood pouring from the damn stab wound in your side to form a little pool beneath you, sticky and warm and seeping through the fabric of your combat suit. How long until the loss of blood would render you unconscious?

From the corner of your eye, you could see Sharon’s blonde silhouette slowly limping away from the fight and back into the darkness, probably biding her time until Zemo had finished you off himself so she wouldn’t get her own hands dirty.

“Careful, you wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty coat, Baron”, you hissed at Zemo when his eyes, darkened by the agitation of the fight, met yours, his face hovering only inches above your own.

“Your concerns for my wardrobe are endearing, Liebling, but if you don’t want to stain my coat, you should stop bleeding all over it”, he snickered. The heat of his body, pressed flush against yours, was seeping through your own clothing, and you could feel his dark chuckle reverberating through your own chest, your breath mingling with his. Both of you were panting from the exertion of the fight, and the weight of him pressing you to the ground, his scent wrapping around you and mixing with sweat and the tang of blood in the air made your head spin. Or probably it was just the blood loss. Either way, you needed an ace up your sleeve to get out of this mess. Zemo’s hands were gripping your wrists and you tried to wriggle out of his vice-like grip and put use to the blade in your hand, but his fingers tightened painfully around your bones, forcing your own hold on the knife’s hilt to loosen.

There was nothing left of the silent amusement and the smug, playful twinkle in his hazel eyes; only cold rage meeting your own glare. And with a sickening feeling in your chest, you knew that he’d adhere to his promise to eradicate all super soldiers. The hatred he felt for the thing you’d been turned into against your own will, had replaced the strange connection which had blossomed between the two of you in Madripoor and in Riga and to your surprise, that was what hurt you the most, more so even than the knowledge that you’d die.

Your mind flew back to the moment in the abandoned building, when it’d been you pressing a knife against his throat. It was then that you realized you just wouldn’t be able to hurt him. Even now, when it was him or you, you knew it in your heart that you couldn’t hurt him. So, you let go of the knife you’d been clutching like a lifeline, letting him take it and wield it against you.

The cold steel of the deadly blade made contact with the soft skin on your neck, Zemo still only inches apart from you, but his hand holding the weapon didn’t shake as he pressed it to the spot where your pulse was hammering wildly like a trapped hummingbird. And still, despite everything Helmut Zemo had done, despite everything he was about to do – you still couldn’t hate him. The only defiance you were putting up now was the one glittering in your eyes, and Zemo seemed to realize that you’d stopped fighting him. For a few heartbeats, you just stared at each other, breathless, gasping for air, tangled up together like lovers rather than enemies.

“I still don’t want to hurt you”, you whispered, momentarily stunned by your own unabashed straightforwardness.

Then, the expression in Zemo’s eyes softened and the sharp glint of rage vanished. He blinked, and the cold sensation of the blade against your throat disappeared with the clank of metal on the ground as he let go of the knife.

The tightness of his grip around your wrists vanished but the intensity in his gaze kept pinning you in place like a deer in headlights once again. You watched as his eyes briefly travelled to your lips and he leaned towards you until the two of you were only inches apart, so close that his warm breath was fanning across your face like the softest caress, eliciting the feeling of a swarm butterflies fluttering in the cage of your chest. The moment of hesitation was only brief until finally, Zemo’s eyes fluttered close and his lips met yours, capturing them in a searing, passionate kiss that stole the breath from you and sent your stomach into the sensation of free fall. And before you could contemplate the still bleeding stab wound on your side or the traitorous act of kissing the enemy or the fact that Sharon and Karli were still somewhere in that room with you, you realized that to you, none of these things mattered. The only thing that mattered was this; his lips moving against yours, the tickle of his soft fur collar against your cheeks, the intoxication sensation of his fingers gently tangling in your hair as he found you returning the kiss, pulling you even closer against him. A soft sigh escaped Zemo’s lips, and you let the world vanish around you as every single one of your senses honed in on him, his every touch making your pulse quicken and you let yourself get lost in his kiss, his hot breath against you and your hands shot up to thread through his soft, tousled hair, doing what you should’ve done – what you’d wanted to do – in that empty old house in Riga, leaving you breathless and craving more of his kisses and the addictive sensations of his touches that left your mind dizzy and spinning.

When you shifted your weight a little to press yourself closer against his firm chest, the pain of the injury in your side flared again, and you gasped, this time in pain. Zemo pulled away, his hands moving to support your back so you wouldn’t fall back. He looked as flushed and flustered as you felt, though his eyes were frantically scanning your face for any sign that he’d done something wrong, that he’d overstepped, until his gaze flitted to the blood pooling beneath you. Worry crept into his expression.

“Apologies”, he murmured when he placed you gently on the ground and ripped away a piece of cloth from his sweatshirt to press against your injury and staunch the flow of crimson.

You winced at the pressure.

“That’s not very sterile.”

“It’s freshly laundered”, Zemo remarked, still a little breathless from the kiss you’d shared.

“But weren’t you on the run?”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean I have to avoid five-star hotels.”

In the silence that draped around you, your gaze wandered towards the slumped figure of Karli at the other side of the room, both of them still unconscious.

“I take it you’ll refrain from killing me in the future”, you assessed.

“I refrained from killing you when Walker had injected you with the serum”, Zemo said quietly. “I wanted to do it. But I couldn’t.”

“It pretty much seemed like you’d made up your mind when you were pressing a knife against my carotid artery”, you retorted, earning a soft laugh from him.

“You mean after you attacked me with your super soldier powers?” He tilted his head and offered you another of his mischievous smirk that made his eyes sparkle.

“Point taken”, you grinned. “So, what changed your mind about super soldiers?”

“Oh, it didn’t change. It only changed regarding one particular super soldier.” He leaned towards you again, closing some of the space between you before his tone turned serious. “You didn’t choose to be a super soldier. Walker forced that choice upon you, so if anyone deserves to be eradicated, it would be him. Apart from that…” he drifted off, as if carefully searching for the right words. It was the first time that Zemo, quick-witted and always ready with a clever remark, seemed actually speechless.

“Apart from me being an exceptional kisser?”, you jested, but his expression stayed serious.

“Apart from the fact that I couldn’t destroy the one thing I found I care about other than revenge after all these years. I realized that I don’t want to be the villain of your story.”

You hadn’t expected such a confession from the Baron, but it made your heart sing with happiness and you took a steadying breath to tell him about your own feelings you’d been harbouring for him –

“IS THAT ZEMO?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” The shout was disrupted by a static buzzing, but it was clearly Bucky’s voice sounding from the comm Sharon had ripped from you and thrown into some dark corner, and he was clearly annoyed. “WHATEVER YOU DO, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE NOW, WE’RE NOT IN A FUCKING SHAKESPEARE PLAY!”

“Bucky! How much…did you hear?”, you asked cautiously, but the reply didn’t come.

“I think he knows”, Zemo commented, his wicked grin telling you that he didn’t feel sorry at all about it.

You reached out and shifted the piece of cloth he was still pressing against your side, and your eyes widened as you saw that the seams of the wound had started knitting together already, the bleeding stopped. Maybe being a super soldier wasn’t that bad, after all. It certainly had its perks.

“He’s right, though. I need to get to the GRC building as fast as possible,” you said, slowly getting back on your feet to retrieve your own gun from under the palette of bricks and grab your – miraculously still intact – comm device.

“Well, what a convenient coincident that I’ve got a car parked outside. And Sharon Carter is the Power Broker, by the way.”

The sleek black two-seater sports car was parked just outside the construction ground, and its headlights winked as Zemo unlocked it.

You walked around, grabbing the doorhandle of the passenger’s side – and the whole door came loose with the screech of metal ripped apart. You gaped at the loose door in your grip.

“Um. I’m sorry.”

“That one was new”, Zemo commented with a frown, and you carefully placed the car door on the pavement beside you.

“Well, it’s not as if you’ve got fifty other cars stockpiled in that gloomy little family bunker of yours in Berlin”, you retorted with a winning grin and slid into the seat, Zemo settling into the driver’s seat beside you.

“It had the potential to be a new favourite. This model is even bullet-proof –“, he argued.

The sudden cracking sound of splintering glass behind you made the two of you jolt and whirl in your seats, facing the rear window, its glass torn in the pattern of a spider’s web around a bullet hole.

“Bullet-proof”, you echoed drily. “I think they pulled you over the barrel when you bought it.”

A devilish smirk lit up Zemo’s handsome features, and your heart did a little backflip. “I never said I bought it.”

“Wait – you stole it?”

Zemo tilted his head in contemplation. “I blew up the U.N. but you draw the line at car theft?”

Another bullet hit the back of the car, and through the now torn rear window, you could make out a slim figure striding towards you, blond ponytail whipped by the wind. Sharon. Even without seeing her expression, you could feel how furious she was, marching towards your car, the limp nearly vanished from her gait and her hand – freshly bandaged – aiming a new gun at the two of you.

“I see you didn’t kill the private matters”, she called out at Zemo, “How unfortunate. Guess I’ll have to do it myself, then.”

“DRIVE!!”, you shouted just as Zemo started the ignition, and you were pushed back into your seat as the car jolted forwards with a deep purr of the engine.

A look at the road behind of you revealed five people on motorbikes following you, their black masks streaked with red.

“The Flagsmashers are back”, you said, and the car accelerated, as did your pursuers. The wind was tearing at you through the gaping hole where the passenger door was supposed to be.

“We’re not fast enough!”

“I can see that”, Zemo replied, and his calmness did nothing to quell the panic rising in your chest.

“They nearly got us!”

“I can see that, as well.”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU SO CALM?!”

“IT CERTAINLY WONT’T HELP IF WE JUST START SCREAMING AT EACH OTHER!”, Zemo finally shouted, and a bullet whirred past you, hitting the radio display at the centre console of the car. The display flickered around the bullet lodged there, and Celine Dion started blaring through the speakers at deafening volume.

“Okay, that’s it”, you grumbled against the sound of the first few lyrics of My Heart Will Go On.

“Not my playlist”, Zemo remarked with a bemused sideways glance at you, and you grabbed your gun out of its holster, the other hand grabbing the handle on the car’s roof while you leaned out of the open passenger’s side to shoot at your pursuers, ignoring the dull throb of your healing stab wound. One of them crashed from his bike; the other two started firing at you, and you could feel Zemo grabbing your waist to pull you back into the relative safety the car.

“Four left”, you panted. There was a thump from above, and Zemo and you stared at each other in astonishment.

“Please not again”, you muttered under your breath, just as metal groaned and screeched and the roof was torn away from the car as if it was made of paper-mâché, and you shrieked in horror, but your bullet hit home and the super soldier tumbled down from the back of the car and hit the road.

A hysterical giggle bubbled up your throat as you noticed Zemo’s frustrated expression at the loss of the car’s roof. “Well, cabriolets are way cooler, anyway.”, you snickered and patted his shoulder, “At least now it’s matching the missing passenger door.”

“I can’t wait to have a strong drink and a bath”, he grumbled in response, the composure of an experienced assassin embracing him like a second coat.

More gunshots were ringing through the night and the two of you ducked, the protective shield of the roof now gone and three more Flagsmashers – probably all of them super soldiers – still on your heels while Zemo was speeding towards the GCR building downtown with the calm determination of an experienced race car driver.

You tried to twist around in your seat to shoot back at the bikers, but the wind tearing at you from the missing car door made aiming backwards difficult, watering your eyes and throwing you off balance. With an annoyed huff, you finally turned around towards Zemo and eyed the considerable space between him and the steering wheel. A sly grin spreading on your lips, you pressed yourself into that gap, chest to his and the steering wheel jabbing your ribs, straddling him to face your pursuers and fired the first round of bullets over his shoulder, all the while ignoring the Baron’s surprised yelp and the motion of the car weaving from side to side.

“Damn it”, you cursed as the first string of shots missed their aim, “Eyes on the road, Zemo!”, you bellowed, aiming again. Beneath you, the Baron shifted to get a better glance at the road ahead, one of his hands slightly grabbing your waist to stabilize you as he did, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your nerves.

Your finger pulled the trigger for the next shot – and the gun let out an empty klick. Oh no. A string of curses left your lips.

“Get my gun! In my left pocket!”, Zemo yelled above the howling headwind and the Celine Dion song still blasting out of the car speakers and you complied, your hand sliding downwards across his – remarkably firm – chest, his muscles rippling under your palm as he shifted again to grant you better access to the gun. You gripped at it and Zemo jolted.

“That’s not the gun!”

Oh my. You could feel heat creep up your cheeks, glad he couldn’t see your face as his wicked laughed vibrated through your body, “Apologies, but you’re very…close.”

You slid your hand upwards and finally brushed against something cold and metallic.

“Got it!”

You tore the gun from his coat pocked and aimed anew, this time hitting your targets. They dropped from their motorbikes and you let yourself fall back into your own seat with a shaky sigh.

Zemo, eyes firmly on the road ahead and that devilish little smirk tugging at his lips, took his gun from your hand and shot the centre of the radio display, the bullet lodging beside the first, effectively silencing the tune of My Heart Will Go On.

“Next time, I’m going to pick the music”, he said.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” This time, it was Sam shouting at you through the Comm, and you placed your hand over your ear to better understand him.

“We’re on our way”, you hollered back, reading the signs above the road as they passed in a blur. “Maybe a few minutes.”

“WE? Who’s with you?”

Before you could think of the best way to reply, Bucky beat you to it. “Zemo. They tried to kill at each other and I’m pretty sure they made out while we were busy saving the day.”

“WHAT?! Buck’s joking. Tell me he’s joking.”

You bit your lip.

“Aw come on, REALLY? You’ll drag his ass back to jail when this is over!”

“We got rid of a few Flagsmashers and Karli is unconscious and injured; you shouldn’t have any problems to get and arrest her,” you switched the topic.

Zemo made a sharp turn, and the car tore up the road towards a row of skyscrapers.

“I assume it’s the one on fire”, Zemo stated drily. There were flashing blue lights ahead, a jumble of police cars, firefighter trucks and ambulances, the smoke of the burning building making you cough as you neared the scene. And there was a silhouette in the sky, soaring down, the wide span of his wings majestic against the starless, smoke-hazed night sky above the glittering city lights. Sam. The shield in his hand flashed, reminding you of the Northern Star. It was fitting.

Someone shouted, and your glance flew back down towards the road ahead – and the dark silhouette Zemo knocked down with the car with a loud rumble before he finally hit the brakes and you came to a stop.

“You hit someone,” you gasped, but were only met with a satisfied little smirk. Someone grabbed the bonnet of the sports car to help them up, and you gasped when you recognized the figure.

“You’ve hit John Walker.”

The man looked a little dazed but didn’t seem hurt.

“How careless of me”, Zemo shrugged.

Then, chaos erupted around you.

The driver’s door was ripped open, and there was Bucky, grabbing Zemo’s fur collar and dragging him out of the car with angry sparks in his eyes. You jumped up to step in, but hands grabbed you and pulled you through the open space of the missing passenger’s side door and onto the asphalt. The Dora. Your heart sank as you met Ayo’s gaze. Behind her, Sam’s silhouette landed gracefully, a limp figure in his arms. It was Karli, and she was dead.

“Sharon shot her”, he murmured into his comm, and you could barely hear him over the shouts of the people surrounding you. Your gaze kept flitting across the scene, catching a blur of dark hair and a furry white collar. Your heart sank with dread. The Dora were leading Zemo away, away from you –

“NO!”, you shouted, but Ayo’s grip on your arms was firm and unyielding and serum or no serum, you were tired and injured. “PLEASE! He – he helped!”, you tried again, tears of desperation mixing with the sweat and soot from the falling ashes around you like black snow.

“Nothing you say and nothing he could do will ever clean his hands”, Ayo said, way gentler than her grip around your upper arms. “There is nothing you can do.”

And suddenly, Sam was beside you, pulling you against him while your silent tears streaked his new suit, the stars and stripes of the legacy he’d chosen to carry on.

“Let them take him”, he said gently. “Promise that you’ll let them take me.”

And with a single sob, you finally nodded. “I promise.”

The days that followed the fight and Sam’s speech in front of the GRC passed like a haze. Your wound was healed, the questions answered – you didn’t tell Sam and Bucky about Sharon being the Power Broker to let them take the rest they deserved, and you didn’t tell anyone else because seeing you arrive at the scene with Helmut Zemo, your breakdown over the Dora taking him back to prison, had left a remarkable dent in your credibility in the eyes of government and the public. When it was time to go home, you went with Sam and Bucky, back to Sam’s family in Louisiana, gathering your thoughts, celebrating the repair of the family boat.

And when the sun began to set over the gentle waves and tinted the sky a beautiful red, and friends and neighbours began to dance, you quietly stood from your bench.

“What’re you up to?”, Bucky’s voice sounded from behind, his expression worried. “The party only started. If you’re looking for a dance partner –“ He winked, and you laughed.

“I’m sorry”, you said. “There’s a point on my to do list that really needs to be taken care of.”

Bucky nodded. He understood to do lists better than every other person.

“Stay safe and call us, all right?”

You gave him a nod, a smile you really meant, and vanished into the crowd.

Humans are the weakest point in any technical system, Bucky had once said, and turns out, he’d been right. Turns out as well that the inconspicuous old butler Oeznik was as skilled with computers and security systems as he was loyal.

“Those are some fancy slippers you’re wearing, Liebling”, you purred with a smile playing at your lips as you looked through the glass wall of his cell. Zemo had been reclining on the bed, a book in his hands and a steaming cup of tea on a table beside him. At the sound of your voice, his head snapped up and a playful smirk tugged at his lips.

You grabbed the electronic lock sealing his cell door shut and tore it off with the ease of tearing apart a piece of paper, and the glass slid open with a barely audible woosh.

Zemo made his way towards you, a glint of surprise in his face, and came to stand in front of you, tilting his head.

“Did the criminal mastermind not anticipate that I’d come and get him back?”, you teased.

“You’d made it clear on more than one occasion that you were more than ready to – how did you phase it? – drag my ass back to prison. To what do I owe the change of mind?”, he replied, that playful glint in his hazel eyes making your breath catch in your throat. He slowly raised his hands and cupped your face with a gentleness you’d have never believed him capable of a few weeks prior.

“I found myself falling for the criminal mastermind with the pretty fur-collared coat”, you replied with quiet seriousness and this time, it was you who closed the space between the two of you, humming as he returned the kiss with so much passion and sweetness that it made your knees weak and sent your mind spinning.

“Do you really want to do this?”, he finally whispered as he broke the kiss. “You’d be a wanted criminal as well. Probably there’s a whole life on the run waiting for you if you do. I would understand if that’s not what you wanted, Liebling.”

The concern in his voice was real, and your heart soared.

“You told me there’d be luxury hotels involved in that life on the run,” you jested and took his hands in yours. “Maybe, deep down in my heart, I’m not that heroic”, you continued, returning back to your seriousness, “Maybe heroes shouldn’t fall for the villain, but here I am. If that makes me a villain as well, so be it.” You took a deep breath, and the smile he gave you lit up his features and stole your heart all over again.

“So, where would you like to go, my love?”

With a wink, you replied, “Well, Sharon got her pardon. She needs to be stopped and I’ve set my mind on dragging her traitorous ass to prison. But after that, a tropical island far away from all the drama of the world would be amazing. But first, we need to grab a pair of those fancy prison slippers for myself on the way out.”

Thank you so much for reading this story 🖤

Taglist for this series:

@mochminnie @zemosimp420 @aurorawitchcraft @sapphiredreamer26 @ya-boi-is-dead @viviace @scrolling-my-life-away @cjhughes-x @mischief-siriusly-managed

#zemo #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo fanfiction #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #zemo fanfic #zemo tfatws #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x gender neutral reader #tfatws zemo fanfic #tfatws #helmut zemo fanfic #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader

165 notes · View notes