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mypoisonedvine · 5 months

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𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 | helmut zemo x reader

@radmerrmaid requested a drabble with zemo and enemies to lovers. what happened is a whole oneshot. don't ask me how.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: DUBCON SMUT, enemies to lovers/hate sex, rough sex including hair pulling, degradation and name calling, restraint, a slap, and overstimulation, touchstarved reader, unspecified age gap, very mild violence (hand-to-hand combat and a mention of a previous gunshot wound), kidnapping, soft!dark zemo?

"It must drive you crazy," he purred, wrapping his fingers carefully around the crystal glass before picking it up. "Seeing me like this."

He smirked around his sip of bourbon— at least you figured it was bourbon— as you tried to keep a poker face. You didn't like the idea of being seen as crazy at all, let alone because of him. "Like what?" you pressed instead of admitting to it.

"Free," he shrugged. "Out of that cage you worked so hard to keep me in."

"Getting you there was my job," you corrected with a frown. "If keeping you there was mine, too... you'd still be in it."

He laughed lightly, if briefly, and shook his head. "Still so prideful. You're young, and you have something to prove."

"I have nothing to prove to you," you asserted, shifting your weight on your hips— it was sort of uncomfortable to keep standing, but it felt wrong to take a seat even though he'd offered you one when you entered. It seemed like a sign of trust. Not that he should be surprised by you acting aloof, when he'd offered to meet you here without even explaining why.

"No, not to me," he agreed, setting the glass down again and taking one step closer to you. "To your friends at the CIA."

He seemed to emphasize every letter of the acronym, a playful condescension in his tone. "Friends is a funny way to say it," you rolled your eyes, "like I do what I do because I want to be popular, and not because I want to keep the world safe."

"Safe from me," he added, "the evil terrorist. Right?"

You ignored his question, not really wanting to dignify it with an answer— or start some spiel about how you don't really believe in evil people, just actions that merit punishment, bla bla bla...

"Yet, you couldn't keep yourself safe from me," he went on, raising one eyebrow as he examined you. "Or, you can't. Here you are— alone, as I asked."

Obviously, you had tried to imagine some way you could have back-up for this, even just tell someone where you were going. But this was Zemo's turf, and he had eyes and ears all over the city... he would know if you tried to turn this into a sting. Instead, you only hoped to gain some sort of information tonight that you could use to track him down when he tried to run again.

"You're more trusting than I suspected," he smirked, gaze darkening a bit. "Or, more desperate."

"Maybe the right word is 'curious'," you proposed. "Clearly, you have something to discuss with me."

"I do," he nodded. "A question to ask you-- one I feel only you can answer."

You waited for him to ask it, but even just the way he sucked in a sharp breath made you realize he was going to bore you with some preamble first— just like him, really..

"You see, after evading you so many times—"

"Narrowly," you interjected.

"Maybe some times," he shrugged, smiling, "other times, I think I had plenty of room. But that's besides the point... the point is, here I am. I've probably bested you for the last time—"

"That's not—"

"Ah ah, no interrupting, please," he scolded gently. "I know you know that if I can keep a low profile here, your organization has no hope of getting me back. I simply have too many resources, and your superiors know my risk is relatively low. No?"

Again, you refused to answer, but the way you crossed your arms tighter and glanced away seemed to serve as enough of an agreement.

"So that's it— I'm free. It should be so simple," he sighed. "So, why am I disappointed?"

You furrowed your brows, staring at him in confusion. You were waiting for him to say something to give context to that, but he didn't— he only waited for your response with an earnest look. "Why... are you asking me that?" you wondered.

"Because you're the person who knows me best."

You'd never thought of it like that, and it was such a jarring idea that you began to shake your head almost instantly. "No, that... that doesn't seem right..."

"I figured you would take pride in it," Zemo grinned. "You tracked me for years, studied me, learned my habits... I had to do the same to escape you. I must know you better than anyone else."

"That's ridiculous," you scoffed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I just hoped you could tell me why I feel this way— why I feel so wrong about never seeing you again."

Your chest tightened. You couldn't bear to meet his gaze; your stomach felt sick and strange and you just wanted to run out of there, but what good would that do? You needed him to tell you something you could use, one last chance to catch him before it was too late.

"If I didn't know you so well, and hate you so much," he went on, "I wouldn't have the energy to keep running. And me? I'm your biggest case. Sometimes you act like I'm your only case. What is it about me, that you need to win against me so badly?"

"It's not you," you insisted instantly, "it's me— it's who I am."

"Maybe that's how it started," he suggested, "but you can't spend so long hunting someone without becoming a little obsessed with them— trust me, I would know."

You grimaced at him. "You— you can't be serious."

"Who will you be without me to chase?" he pressed anyways, matching some of your anger as he stepped closer again— almost too close. "Without this... passion, between us?"

"Don't step any closer," you warned.

"Or what?" he challenged. "No weapons, no soldiers— it's just the two of us here."

He stepped up again, nearly pressed against you, and you couldn't let him get away with that... you had to prove you meant what you said. You weren't armed, and you knew he wasn't someone you wanted to go up against hand-to-hand... but at the same time, it was one thing you'd always secretly wished for. A chance to wage this war the way it should be, the way it had always been: personal.

You stepped back at the same time as you swung your fist, giving yourself just enough room to gain momentum— but you weren't quite fast enough, and he blocked you. From then on it was fast, instinctual: he was stronger but you were quicker, and on the offensive.

You never quite landed a hit, but neither did he— which felt like a good sign, until you realized he wasn't really giving it his all. Dodging and blocking, yes, but he wasn't trying to win, just keep you at bay.

"Come on!" you yelled in frustration as you finally got in a kick to his chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall. "What are you doing, pitying me?"

"Hardly," he wheezed, a little affected by the hit, which made you smirk. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, putting your fists up and stabilizing your posture. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

He came at you, and finally, there it was... his real strength. That passion he'd been talking about, you could feel it.

Both of you were flushed and panting, exhilarated by the sport of it all. Unfortunately, right as you thought you'd found your moment— the weak spot in his form— it was a trap. When you moved in closer, he grabbed you and spun you around, holding your back against his chest so tight that you struggled to breathe.

But he didn't shove you down, didn't put you in a chokehold, didn't even threaten you or gloat about pinning you. Instead, he only held you tighter, and soothed you with a gentle 'shh' in your ear when you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you whispered, your whole body shaking as he ran his tongue up your neck.

"If it's curiosity that brought you here," he purred in response, "I can satisfy that."

"You can't be fffucking serious," you hissed, though a moan tainted your words as one of his hands ran down your body, the other still effortlessly holding you still.

"I know you so well," he went on, a deep growl in his voice as your eyes fell shut. "I know how lonely you must be. That's one of the things we share."

His hand was heavy and warm against your leg, even through your pants— and it was moving higher, petting your inner thigh as you shivered. Though your mind longed to resist him, your body was desperate for any affection; because he was right, you were lonely. You couldn’t think of the last time someone had touched you like this, and yet you remembered it didn’t usually feel this good. His touch was precise and careful and teasing— not too awkward but not too cocky. And the heat of him wrapped around you, his hot breath on your shoulder, his wider form encompassing you… how could it feel so good?

“And I know you’ve thought about this,” he added. “That’s something we share, too.”

He couldn’t know that— he might be rich and resourceful, but he wasn’t omniscient. If you were any more logical in that moment, you would’ve realized he was just guessing and denied it. But his teeth brushing over your pulse didn’t exactly provoke your critical thinking skills. “Fuck, I— fuck,” you choked out instead, shuddering when he chuckled proudly.

“You might hate me, draga, but you need me,” he explained. “Your mind needs me, just as much as your body does.”

Something about the way his fingers traced up your side, teasing your breast before pulling away right before getting to anything too exciting… it seemed to bring you back to reality, at least partially. You absolutely couldn’t do this— you couldn’t let him do this. “G-get off me,” you choked out, struggling against him again.

“That’s what you want?” he taunted.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelped.

“Make me,” he challenged.

Bringing your foot down hard on top of his, he winced and you managed to break away, spinning around and shoving him back— he actually lost his balance that time, falling to the floor. You were ready to deliver a firm and swift kick between his legs, but rolled over and grabbed your leg while it was up, bringing you down to the floor with him.

He laughed breathlessly, sounding a little frustrated, as you flailed for purchase against the floor— only for him to grab your wrists and pin you down, positioning himself over you with a grin. His hair was shaken out of its style, hanging around his face which was flushed from exertion. “You keep me on my toes, I’ll give you that,” he offered. You tried to writhe again but he had you properly trapped now, with absolutely no way out.

“You wouldn’t,” you sneered incredulously.

“Wouldn’t what, dear?”

“You wouldn’t force yourself on me,” you completed.

He seemed a little surprised, hanging his head and shaking it. “Oh,” he breathed, “no, I wouldn’t.”

A little relieved, you started to catch your breath.

“I don’t need to.”

He brought his lips down to yours suddenly— the collision was almost too rough, and yet it was the only thing that made sense for the two of you. You groaned in protest yet submitted instantly, opening your mouth wide for his desperate and dominating kiss.

Your back arched up off the floor, and his weight seemed to sink down on top of you in response. Though you hated yourself for it, you spread your legs a bit, just enough for him to rest his hips between— and fuck, you could feel it. The hard, throbbing heat, you could feel it pressed against you and the most horrible moan was nearly lost to his lips.

He hummed back proudly, running his hands over your body, kissing you faster.

You were gasping for breath when he broke away, which only worsened when he latched onto your neck. “God, I hate you,” you blurted out, just to remind you both that if this was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You hate me for all those times I embarrassed you?” he assumed, hands holding your waist and starting to slide up your shirt. “For when I eluded you, wasted your time, made a fool of you?”

“And that time you shot me.”

“I winged you,” he corrected— like that was any better.

He tugged your shirt up and you raised your arms, letting him slip it off; he spotted the scar right away, a line across your arm just under your shoulder. He cooed for a second before kissing it softly— too gentle a moment for you to let lie. You shoved his jacket back next, helping him slip it off his shoulders before pulling him down to kiss you again.

Your sports bra had a clasp in the front, it was a bit unique in that way, yet he had no trouble with it. Freeing your chest, he of course had to tease you a bit more— instead of groping your waiting breasts right away, he guided your arms down from where they held onto the back of his neck, lifting you up from the floor a bit so you could slide the garment off and toss it away.

When you laid back down, the floor was cold, but the hiss you let out was more a response to him rocking his hips against you, teasing you through these stupid remaining clothes. “You know why I hate you?” he returned as he started to unbutton your pants, even though you’d entirely forgotten that last part of the conversation.

Before he answered the question, he yanked your pants and underwear down to your thighs— and swiftly got his own out of the way. Your heart raced; you weren’t totally convinced this was really happening, not until he pushed into you in one painfully sudden thrust. You cried out, yet he took no mercy on you. He was ruthless, in fact.

Choking on your broken cries, you arched up off the floor again as he hammered into you, rage and relief and desperation evident in every movement. He had to hold your legs tightly just to keep you from sliding across the floor, which only ensured you took every stroke as deep as it could go— which was already too fucking deep.

“Say it,” he ordered, “tell me why I hate you.”

“I caught you,” you said— but you knew that would just make him angrier. Maybe that was kind of the idea.

Stopping just long enough to tug your pants the rest of the way off— and leaving you naked while he was still mostly dressed— he descended over you and looked right at you, far too close, with a rageful stare.

“You trapped me,” he corrected gruffly. “You played dirty.”

Before you had a chance to retort that all’s fair in love and war, he started to pound into you… harder and meaner than ever. You didn’t surprise yourself by crying out, considering how intense and nearly painful the feeling was, but you were a little confused that the word you said was a needy yes!

"Those years in prison," he snarled, "you could barely call it living, life in that place— you put me there. I thought every day about how you put me there."

He yanked your hair, making you whine loudly and exposing your neck for his lips and teeth to explore freely.

Finally, a hand latched onto your chest— a hot palm encompassing your breast and skilled fingers pinching lightly at your nipple. You couldn’t believe how composed he was through all this— in many ways, he wasn’t, but he seemed to be deliberate with every way he touched you and that was far more togetherness than you had.

You weren’t together at all, actually… something about the heat of the moment, the way your body responded to him, the way he glared at you… you could already feel tension building inside you. It wouldn’t be long, not if he kept going like this.

“I thought about you every fucking day, draga— that you were free, and I was trapped in that cell,” he growled. “You missed it, didn’t you? Chasing me.”

When you didn’t answer, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand; the shock of it made your walls clench on him, or at least you could blame it on that, but you had no way to explain the way you moaned a moment later.

He moved even faster, a sickening wet sound echoing through the room which you hated to acknowledge was your own body. “The worse I am to you, the wetter you get,” he noticed, smiling for just a moment. “What a filthy whore you are.”

“F-fuck you,” you stammered roughly.

“Actually, why don’t you?” he offered, grabbing you by the hips and rolling both of you over until he was on his back and you were straddling him. “Show me how bad you need it.”

As much as you wanted to not do what he told you, your hips were already moving— your body was on its own mission now, desperate for pleasure and friction and heat. Desperate for anything he would give. You whimpered as you grinded down on him, feeling his cock go so much deeper than you imagined was possible. “God,” you sobbed, tossing your head back and trying not to picture the way he must have been looking at you then.

His hands moved all over you, up your thighs and over your breasts, even wrapping around your neck once though they didn’t put on enough pressure to really choke you. “Pretty girl,” he praised darkly, making chills dance over your skin.

But when his hands settled on your hips, trying to guide you the way he wanted, you’d had enough; you grabbed him at the wrists and leaned forward, pinning his hands beside his head. He smirked up at you at first, but when you bounced your hips up and down while hovering over him, his eyes fell shut and he let out a deep groan. “I’m close,” you panted sharply.

“You can make yourself come like this?” he realized, sounding a little impressed. He opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment to get a better look at you, before almost instantly giving up again and dropping his head back to the floor with a moan. “Fine, take it— just take what you need, draga.”

You held tighter to his wrists, mostly to keep yourself stable, and you felt his own hands ball into fists as you bounced faster. “Oh god, oh god, oh god— yes!” you yelped, legs quivering as it struck you. It seemed to come and go so quickly, perhaps because your strength gave out halfway through and you felt weak and paralyzed. It had been ages since you’d felt pleasure like that… actually you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure like that, at least not so much all at once.

If only he were satisfied by that. With your grip weakened, he easily pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and bucking his hips up into you rapidly.

“Fuck, wait, s-slow down,” you panted, whining weakly as he shook his head against the crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he purred. “I won’t be able to slow down at all until you’re full of come, draga. I want you dripping.”

You were all numb and limp now, so raw and sensitive inside— he put you on your back again and didn’t struggle at all to pull another orgasm from you. The third, though, was a little more hard fought: he rubbed your clit with an almost painful amount of pressure, watching through dark eyes and with a sneering grin as you screamed and shivered.

“Not too loud, darling,” he warned, “the people in the streets might hear you, the window’s still open—”

“Fuck!” you shouted, high-pitched and shaky, and he covered your mouth with his other hand as he laid on you with a growl.

“Just one more, then I’ll fill you,” he promised. “I only need to feel you come one more time. You want a rest, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly, biting down on your shaking lip.

“Then give me what I want.”

Your final cry was stuttered and helpless, every final ounce of energy in your body being taken from you by the final forced peak of ecstasy. But it wasn’t until you sighed out his name, barely audible under your breath, that he groaned against your neck and pumped himself deep inside you— every drop, leaving you full to the brim and then some.

You didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him, but he held you far too tightly as if to make up for it, and didn’t let you go for quite some time.

It had only gotten darker and colder out, and the draft through the window eventually danced over your sweat-slickened skin. When you shivered under him, Helmut lazily reached up to the couch nearby, pulling a throw blanket off of it and wrapping you both up in its soft embrace. You sighed with relief from both the cold air and the hard floor, not even realizing you were falling asleep.

Even when you woke up, you didn’t really notice that you’d been asleep— except that Helmut was gone, and the fireplace was going. Sitting up as little as you could get away with to look for him— since moving at all was quite a task given how tired you were— you heard him coming around the corner and turned back to look at him.

He was in a robe now, and carrying two crystal glasses of water. He smiled at you as he sat back down on the floor, laying beside you on the blanket and handing you your glass. “Figured you would need this soon enough,” he explained with a soft voice as you sipped carefully at the water. You weren’t really ready to talk to him yet, but you wanted to thank him for the water, so you just nodded and hoped that would get the point across.

The silence was probably only awkward for you— he seemed totally at peace, getting through most of his drink before setting it down on the floor and cuddling up to you again with a contented sigh.

You quietly drank the water, staring forward at the crackling fire, hardly believing where you were. It actually sounded sort of romantic on paper: a dashing and wealthy older man, a penthouse apartment in a foreign city, a fire, a blanket, a crystal glass…

If it weren’t for the wanted terrorist, it might make for a good little fantasy.

Yet, you set your glass aside and laid back down with him. He slipped an arm around you, holding your shoulder and petting it with his thumb, even kissing the side of your forehead sweetly. “I don’t understand how you can… be like that,” you whispered, glancing down at his arm crossed over your chest.

“Not everyone is so afraid of their feelings as you are,” he countered, and you snorted a little.

“I’m not afraid of my feelings,” you denied half-heartedly.

“You’re afraid of me, then?” he wondered.

“Not… quite…” you murmured your answer, not even sure yourself what you felt. “I mean, I drank the water, so—”

“I wondered if you would,” he laughed, “but I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, only half the glass, technically,” you noticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve had enough,” he shrugged.

“Enough?” you chuckled. “After that, half a glass of water is hardly enough. I won’t be recovered until I have a protein-heavy meal and probably a couple painkillers— if I wanna, you know, sit or jog or whatever in the next few days.”

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t mean enough to recuperate. I meant enough for you to sleep until we get there.”

“...what?” you asked, turning over your shoulder with knitted brows to look at him.

“If even you know where you’re going, you might find a way to get out is all,” he explained flippantly.

“What… what are you…?” you started, shaking your head— but it didn’t shake off that funny feeling, that heaviness in your head.

“You see, I did think about you every day in my cell,” he went on, “and I thought about how, someday, I would lock you away— so you’d know how it feels, to be a prisoner.”

Whimpering as realization dawned, you sat up quickly to try to fight whatever was in that water… but it only seemed to make it worse, spots forming in your vision like when you stand up too fast— except they didn’t fade, just multiplied.

“I’ll treat you much better than I was, though,” he assured, “in fact, I think you’ll be better off than you were before… you’ll be mine, draga. No one else will ever see you again.”

You tried to speak but it wasn’t really coming together— you tried to push him away but you only limply held onto him, looking up at his eerily blank expression with your fading vision. As it all turned to black, he caught your head before it hit the floor, cradling it rather tenderly before kissing your cheek.

“Now,” he whispered to you, though you couldn’t possibly hear it, “let’s get you cleaned up— the plane is waiting to take you to our new home.”

#baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #dark!zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #daniel bruhl smut #dark!zemo smut #helmut zemo dark fic #baron zemo dark fic #WELP. oops.

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mariaxxxxx · 2 months

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The love you offer me (Zemo x Female Reader One-Shot)

Summary: Short stories of how Helmut J. Zemo destroyed his heart.

Warnings: 18+ sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, pussy eating, anguish, depression, separation, unprotected sex, cream pie, pregnancy, loss of a child, manipulation, abusive relationship.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

Work count: 9.352

🟣 🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣 🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣 🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣

Helmut J. Zemo was like no one You had ever met before. Although he is a very vindictive man, he is actually the ultimate embodiment of manipulation, as he is able to carefully plan and execute every step necessary to accomplish his goals. Despite his intense behavior and capacity for extreme violence and destruction, Helmut possessed a more pleasant side to his personality. He was a family man, a loving companion, with a passion for collecting art and high-value cars, and even dancing in a nightclub.

Maybe it was his pleasant personality that led you to him in the first place. The charismatic, respectful and passionate Helmut Zemo who would never hurt You. Helmut is good, but not in the way everyone thinks. He's good at wooing you with expensive trips and gifts, good at making you scream his name on his private plane. He's good at taking you out of reality, destroying your mind when you're under him. He's good at making You beg to be ruined. He is good at adorning your neck and wrists with precious jewelry; he is good at kissing you and telling you how much he loves you. Zemo is everything.

Unfortunately, he was also good at breaking your heart into tiny pieces without any chance of concert. He was good, excellent and perfect in reducing You to nothing more than a broken doll.

(…)

You still remember the first time you saw him. You were a simple, new waitress at a nightclub in Madripoor. On your first day on the job, you were already cleaning tables, serving drinks and keeping the cash register full, even if it meant losing precious nights of sleep. You were more than grateful for that. Staying in Madripoor, in the upper city, was really expensive and after his father's death things really got difficult for his side. Unfortunately for him, his damned father had wiped out his bank accounts with gambling and drinking, leaving nothing but negative accounts. After burying them the bills arrived; rent electricity, food, and hospital and burial bills. You wouldn't be able to maintain everything with a simple part-time job and, to your delight, your colleague Nathan offered you the chance at employment.

It was a dangerous place indeed. With rude men, women of dubious reputation and corrupt foreigners, but the money at the end of the night made it all worth it. There was also protection exercised over site workers; it wasn't uncommon for a funny guy to try his luck by touching you under your skirt. You were a pretty and delicate little thing for the place and that attracted curious people as to why a pretty girl like You stopped in a place like that. Countless times Mark, the security guard, had to chase away mean men and jealous women to keep you alive.

One night, like any other, the most bizarre version of Charles' little angels you've ever seen appeared; the damned winter soldier, the smiling tiger and a man in a big fur coat. You thought it was fun. But confusion soon ensued at the scene when the Winter Soldier attacked some men, causing a general fight. You were hiding behind the counter when his gaze met yours. Maybe, if You weren't so enchanted by those damn eyes, you would have noticed the pain behind it. In an almost supernatural way, You struggled to keep your balance as he continued to stare in your direction.

The moment was interrupted with the departure of the three men and the news that the club would be closed for the rest of the night. The way home was strange, not to mention funny. His gaze never left your idle mind, sending shivers down your spine and contractions in your stomach. You remember finding him handsome and old, older than you, but that didn't matter after all he was beautiful. You slept that night with him in your head like a teenager discovering her first love.

A week later You found him while walking through the streets of the upper city carrying bags; You had received payment and decided to stock up on supplies at home by going to the market. You were distracted watching the ships parked at the pier that you didn't notice someone going in the same direction, they collided quickly and you didn't have time to stop it. You struggled to keep your balance, failing to fall to the floor with your bags. You opened your eyes, fighting the embarrassment, and saw some of your purchases scattered across the floor.

"Are you well?" A voice with a thick accent. You moved your head quickly ready to trash talk the man, but something stopped you.

There he was, the man from the nightclub, the one who would rip your heart out of your chest, at that time You didn't know. For some reason, you bit your tongue to avoid the curses and opened your mouth to show the most beautiful smile.

“I’m fine” You said as you stood up.

"He is sure? I am really sorry." He apologized again. You thought the attempt to alleviate all the embarrassment was cute.

With his help, you gathered up the fallen products on the floor, trying to ignore how his touch made your heart flutter as he handed you a can of peas. After making sure everything was collected, You turned on your heel about to leave. His hand held your forearm keeping you in place. The heat that came from his touch took you to heaven for a few brief minutes only to be replaced by a slight disappointment when he took it away.

You looked at him, trying to say something funny about the situation, anything that would make you seem less clumsy, but you couldn't. The brown eyes were looking at You. No, they were marking You. You couldn't move or speak.

"Everything is fine." You said after a long minute of silence. "Thank you for helping me."

“Let me do something to make up for this misfortune.” He said. “I can take her home. My car is parked right there.”

His cheeks heated at the tempting but dangerous proposition. Madripoor was a den of outlaws and fugitives. You wouldn't risk your safety with a stranger no matter how handsome he was.

“I prefer to walk.” You were definitely being petulant and he seemed amused by it.

“Stop being stubborn.” You didn't miss the authoritative tone in his voice. “You’re full of bags and you just got hurt. I just want to take care of You.”

“My parents taught me not to trust strangers.” You said amusingly. “But if it pleases you You can walk home with me.”

It wouldn't hurt to flirt a little; after all, you were young and single in front of a handsome man. Sometimes, you blamed your naivety for allowing yourself to be carried away so easily by him, being at the height of your youth and ready to experience all the good things in the world. You allowed yourself to be swept away with a simple bump into the curb. As you sunk into his smile, his hand brought you back to reality. A comforting touch on your arm and a friendly expression on your face.

"Let's go."

He walked you home and offered to even carry your bags. The path was filled with conversations.

“Are you from Madripoor?” You questioned.

"No." He said. “I'm here on business.”

“I saw you at the club the night the Winter Soldier showed up, but you looked different. You wore a funny coat.”

He let out a little laugh. Cute.

"Oh yeah." You rounded a corner. “I was helping an old friend.”

“You guys made a mess. We had to clean everything up the next morning.”

“Do you work at that place?” There was a hint of mockery in his voice and it bothered you briefly. It wasn't one of the best jobs in the world, but it was still a job and it paid all the bills.

"Yes." You said with a firm voice. “I work waiting tables, sometimes making drinks, sometimes cleaning and sometimes taking care of the cash register. I do everything."

“Do your parents allow you to work there?”

You looked at him, in disbelief to hear something so silly. You were young, but not too young to ask your parents for permission – if You still had them.

“My mother left when I was little and my father died.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter since I wouldn’t need their permission to work.”

"Of course not. You’re a big girl now and you can take care of yourself.”

If you were a little smarter at that time you would have been able to capture the tone of eroticism in his voice when he said those words, but at that moment you thought it was funny. The conversation was interrupted when you arrived at your residence. You stopped in front of your building and looked at it.

“Thanks for following along.”

“I must be grateful for allowing me to accompany you. It’s been so long since I’ve had a pretty girl by my side.” He winked and you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up once again.

"You are very kind." His words came out as a whisper, even though it wasn't his intention.

He reached into his back pocket, took out a black cell phone and handed it to You.

“Write down your number.” He instructed. “I would like to talk to you more.”

You put your number on his cell phone, convincing yourself that this was all just a quick flirt with an older man. How wrong you were.

(...)

You underestimated how flirtatious and charming Helmut would be. You thought he would just take you to bed and disappear before dawn, but that wasn't what happened. You spent hours sharing text messages that would evolve into phone calls and, later, romantic dates. Days with him turned into weeks and, without warning, into months. He wasn't at all interested in fucking you and leaving, no, Helmut was different; he spoiled her with expensive dates and exorbitant gifts. Before you knew it, you were falling for him.

You had been dating for four months when he took you to bed for the first time. It was good, but clumsy and quick. Helmut made her cum that night, but he himself had finished quickly with just a few thrusts. You didn't mind finishing quickly since the man had brought a beautiful orgasm out of you with his fingers and tongue. In the eighth month, you and he made your relationship official. Helmut took you to a restaurant in the upper city. The food was good, the waiters were polite and the atmosphere was pleasant. He gave her a simple and delicate necklace; with a gold chain and a pendant with a design that resembled an H. You thought the H symbolized the initial of his name. He placed the necklace around your neck and stood in front of you to admire it. At that moment, you noticed emotions passing through your face, love, longing and sadness. He covered it up with a smile.

“Wear it always, my dear.” He said as he played with the pendant. “It would break my heart if You took it away.”

You wore that necklace without ever taking it off your neck. You were in love and would do anything to make him happy. What you didn't expect was to be fired from your job. When You demanded an explanation, your former boss just gave a disinterested shrug.

“Orders from above.”

Of course, the bastard wouldn't say anything more than that. In Madripoor, loudmouths didn't have happy endings. You returned home frustrated that night, wondering how you were going to support yourself now. You had no family or studies to guarantee you a good job, all that was left were part-time jobs and bars with a dubious reputation. Still, you needed to find something quickly, as the month would soon end and new bills would arrive.

When he got home, his cell phone beeped in his pocket with a new message from Helmut; the man who won a place in your heart in just a few weeks. The message only said that he would pick her up that night for a date. So authoritative You thought. Your current state didn't allow you to have fun, but you swallowed all your anguish to be with him. You might not have fallen in love so quickly if he was just attractive; a pretty European faces to look at on a sunny afternoon. Something superficial, like the designer handbags in the window that you wanted but would never have. Deep down, deep down, You knew there was something wrong with falling in love so quickly, but who could blame You? The man was simply perfect.

After reflecting for a moment, you walked to the bedroom to improve your swollen face from crying and look pretty for him. He showed up in his luxury car at the appointed time, Helmut was always so punctual. You sat down next to him and gave him a small peck.

"Where are we going?" You asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"A surprise." He whispered with a false air of mystery.

Helmut took you to the pier that night where a huge white yacht was waiting for you.

“My god” You sighed as you came across the grandeur of the yacht. Helmut stood beside you, his hand on your waist guiding you inside.

“Come, I want to show you everything.”

He introduced you to the deck, the captain's cabin, the crew, the room you would share for the night. After the short tour You sat at a table set on the deck with exquisite dishes under the starlight.

“What a great surprise.” You said with a big smile. “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“It saddens my heart. A girl like you deserves everything the world has to offer.”

When he tells you this your heart jumps out of your chest. After all, no one had ever loved you like this to the point of spoiling you with such beautiful things. The moment of joy was replaced with sudden distress as You, for the first time, realized the vast difference in social class between You. Helmut was a fit, cultured and rich man. You were just a young thing without a family, education or job.

“Helmut.” You started talking. “What will happen to us?”

“What do you mean, darling?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“It’s just…” You took a deep breath. “...we've been dating for a few months and I...it's just...We're so different.”

“Oh, my dear I know I'm too old for You.”

You scolded yourself for not being good with words and causing that misunderstanding. You didn't want to hurt him, so you recanted as quickly as you could.

"It's not that." You said it too loudly. “It’s just that you’re so rich and I’m me. I don’t even have my job anymore.”

"I know." He raised the glass of white wine to his lips. “I asked them to fire you, I didn’t want you working in that dangerous place with men of ill repute.”

“Helmut!” You exclaimed indignantly. “I needed that job. How will I support myself?”

"I will take care of you." There was a wild gleam in his eyes as he said this.

Maybe it was passion speaking too loudly, but you didn't question him any further and just allowed yourself to be taken care of by him. You talk that night, there was no room for silence at that table. He told him his story; about Sokovia, the Avengers, the prison, about Sam and Bucky and how he was now an international fugitive. In normal situations, an abrupt reaction would be expected, but you didn't do it. At that point, You were sure that you loved this man and that he loved you to the point of trusting You so much to tell him all his problems. You comforted him as he told you about his family buried in the rubble of New Gadi after the Avengers battle and the killer robot, Ultron, created by them.

You smiled beside him as he recounted the antics of his son, Carl. You comforted him when he shared a close bond with his father. When he started talking about his late wife with so much love and devotion a spark lit in You because of the way he spoke; Helmut exercised such devotion over the woman that she could be his own private goddess. You saw the sadness, longing and love run through his eyes. You ignored the jealousy and resentment by convincing yourself that she was dead.

“So, you’re telling me to run away alongside you?” You ask in disbelief. You were sitting on the deck floor, your legs spread across his lap, his hands lightly brushing your skin.

"Yes." He says with a mischievous smile. “There is nothing for You here. Come with me and I will give you everything.”

You accepted the invitation as there was nothing for You in Madripoor.

You guys spent a week or two, you're not sure, on the yacht going from place to place across the ocean. You and him talked a lot, drank a lot and fucked a lot. To his surprise, Helmut took her to Germany. You disembarked from the yacht on a Sunday night. On the way to the hotel You tried not to show all your perplexity at being in a completely new place. You had never left Madripoor before. The biggest surprise was the hotel he chose. With a huge reception, golden pillars and employees who guided you to your hotel room.

"Did you like it?" Helmut asked.

You didn't make a point of answering right away, you were too busy, impressed by the large windows with a privileged view of the city.

“I loved it” You shouted while jumping up and down with joy. Helmut laughed behind You at your excitement.

“I’m going to draw a bath. Then let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we need to buy clothes for You.”

“Uhm.” You murmured, still impressed by the grandeur of that room.

With your crazy and sudden impulse to go after one of the most wanted men in the world You didn't have time to grab clothes. Helmut assured You that your belongings in the old apartment would be well taken care of and that the expenses left by You would be paid. Although you were sad to leave some gifts he gave you in his old apartment, he assured you that he would give you others. During the yacht trip, You didn't miss his clothes, preferring to wear his shirts; Helmut had a lot of fun with your lack of underwear and it allowed him to fuck you everywhere on that yacht.

“The bath is ready.” Helmut announced from the bathroom.

With a burst of joy, you went to the bathroom, which turned out to be even more elegant and sophisticated than the large windows. You liked it and quickly got used to that life.

(...)

The time with Helmut was funny, everything seemed to move so slowly. You stayed in Germany for a year and six months, settling in the city of Munich in a small village far from the big center surrounded by trees and stone roads. Helmut was kind to you and taught you to speak fluent German, to dance and differentiate between the different forks that were on the table. He instructed you to go back to studying, although it wasn't his wish, he enrolled you in a semester-long fine arts course at the University of Munich. You didn't hate art, but you didn't identify with it enough to study the subject.

In the end, despite yourself, you took the course and finished it with honors and letters of recommendation for internships in galleries. Helmut was proud and to congratulate you he presented you with a new wardrobe of haute couture clothes. Your stay in Germany ended with the authorities discovering your existence in the country. You and Helmut fled in the early hours of the morning, heading straight to the airport where his private jet was waiting for you.

“We’ll be fine, my dear.” He said while hugging You.

Leaving Germany was difficult, as you left behind a few friendships and opportunities for a bright future. But You consoled yourself by remembering that you were with him, by his side, and wherever Helmut took you You would be okay.

The next stop was in Spain, on one of the Balearic Islands, where a small but luxurious house was waiting for you. You settled in quickly and to your surprise Helmut introduced you to the Oeznik family butler, an old man with a great sense of humor and loyalty.

“We can have pizza today, Oeznik.” You said as you walked around the kitchen with bare feet carrying dishes from one place to another.

“You should eat something healthier, my lady. You young people love to eat junk.” Oeznik said, watching You walk from one side to the other. “You won’t like your choice.”

“He will like it.” You guaranteed it. “I’m going to order a pizza.”

Oeznik was right that Helmut wouldn't like the pizza.

“You don’t like that kind of thing.” Said Helmut with clear mockery in his voice as You placed the slice in front of him.

"I love pizza." You said, trying to hide your discomfort. “We eat a lot of that in Madripoor.”

“Well, I took you for pizza in Venice and you hated it.” Helmut said with nostalgia in his voice. “You said mixing tomato sauce and pasta was a crime against nature.”

It was the first time Helmut looked at You with dazed eyes. As if he was not seeing You, but seeing someone else.

“We never went to Italy, Helm.” You mutter.

Helmut blinks rapidly as if trying to get something out of his mind and smiles in your direction.

“Let’s eat the pizza, little dove.”

The nickname was new, You noticed. That night you ate the pizza reluctantly, because with each bite a bitter taste formed in your mouth.

In the following months, Helmut was a very generous man towards You. He gave you a luxury apartment in Ibiza, created a bank account with $3,000,000 so that You could have a good life in case he was arrested again and enrolled you, again, in another semester arts course. You took the course reluctantly, because you didn't identify with it, but it made you happy so you were happy, and you had the advantage of learning a new language; Helmut joked about how smart You were at learning new languages in such a short time. To his delight, the course ended in exactly four months. You and he celebrated with a candlelit dinner by the sea.

"Marry me?" Helmut asked with his knees on the floor and a diamond ring in his hand.

"Yes." You said in one breath.

“Baroness Zemo.” He said as he put the ring on her finger. “I will make you very happy, little dove.”

You hugged him, kissed him and swore your eternal love to him. After dinner he dragged you back home; you walked through the door holding each other without separating your lips from each other. One moment you were on the stairs and the next you were in the bedroom. In bed, with a shirtless Helmut on top of you. His clothes disappeared. His panties and bra were the only things covering his body. His hands were touching you, exploring his skin while his lips devoured yours. Helmut knew what he was doing. He was reducing you to dust.

His hand grabs your panties, his finger trailing down your covered slit. A wet spot made him smile proudly.

“Always so wet for me, my little dove.” He whispered in her ear. You tried not to think about how much that nickname bothered you, but to your delight his fingers began to trace circles around your clit. Erasing everything from your mind. “Do you like this, little dove? Do you like how I make you feel?”

The lack of response made him accelerate his movements. His head spun at the sensation. He was torturing You; The moisture in her panties increased, creating a slight discomfort with the contact between the wet fabric and the hot flesh.

"Answer me. Use the damn words, little dove.” His voice was deep, his accent stronger and more authoritative.

“Yes, Helmut.” You said. He kissed you, his tongue finding its way to his.

He pulled away, kissing his way down to her covered breasts where he nibbled on her right nipple through the lacy fabric. You moaned loudly at the stimulation. He bent down completely, with his head between his legs, freed himself from her completely soaked panties. He brought his face closer to her wet pussy, inhaling her scent. He traced a line between her folds, playing with her pussy. Lick after lick, Helmut placed his lips on her folds and began to suck her clit.

You screamed at the quick action and pleasure. His fingers teased your entrance, slowly massaging your arousal until he finally slipped one of them inside and then another. Helmut had deliciously large fingers, bigger than his own, and he reached the g-spot with flying colors. The way he moved them, with such agility, was breathtaking. The established rhythm was specular. His fingers pumped in and out of You while his tongue stimulated your clit, making You feel better than ever.

Suddenly, he lifted his face away from You, but his fingers kept moving inside. His lips glistened with a mixture of his own saliva and his arousal. That and the damn smile on his face made her belly tighten.

“Enjoy little dove.”

The tightness in his stomach intensified, a tingling started from the tips of his toes, went up his legs, going to his stomach causing an explosion of pure ecstasy. You felt his soul leave his body for a few seconds and return. You were stuck in your little world of satisfaction as Helmut got rid of his pants and underwear. He placed himself on top of you, both hands rested on the sides of his face. The feeling of his dick, dripping with pre-cum, made You look down.

Helmut had a dick that was large in length and thickness, half tilted to the right, white and with a reddish head with a drop of pre-cum leaking out. You reached out to his arm and touched him. His breath hitched as his palm closed around his member to stroke it. His thumb slipped on the tip, making his dick twitch in circles in his hand.

"Little Dove." He groaned,

Her hand trailed up and down, down and up, pumping him as he grew harder and wetter. It was gentle touches, but it was driving him crazy. After some more stimulation, Helmut moved his hand away and positioned himself at her entrance. He spread her legs, with his right hand guided his cock between her slit. A brief lapse of consciousness appeared in his brain as he remembered the lack of protection. You didn't use contraceptives, as Helmut thought they were a poison bomb, always preferring to use condoms.

“Helmut.” You said between moans. “The condom...”

“We don’t need her.” He said come in and cuddles.

You moaned loudly when you felt him inside you. The feeling of having him without the latex was simply sublime. With quick movements, the head of his dick reached her spongy spot. The sensation of it made your eyes roll back, electricity course through your body aware of what his cock was doing. His legs opened wider for him. You felt it everywhere. The deeper he went, the more pleasure you felt. His hands grab his hair, pulling it lightly into fists.

Like the popping of a bottle You have, once again, reached climax. You have never been so satisfied in your life. Helmut fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You felt him go faster, riding out his own release, and when he finally did, releasing all of his semen inside of You a name escaped his lips.

“Heike.” He said between whispers and moans.

Helmut pulled out of You and rolled onto his side, falling asleep. You remain in bed, rubbing your face with your hands, hurt from hearing him cry out for the dead woman as he spilled himself inside you. It was an unraveling feeling, as if strong waves flooded your heart with sadness and disappointment. You even tried to convince yourself that you heard wrong. It wasn't her name, You thought. Maybe, it was something in his mother tongue that resembled his name, maybe he just blurted it out in his frenzy, maybe he didn't love you that much and thought about his wife every time You shared a bed.

At that moment, You found yourself crying yourself to sleep at the possibility of Helmut thinking about his late wife every time he was with You.

(...)

Things were great for a while. Helmut spoiled you, your stay in Spain increased, the preparations for the wedding were almost ready and sex became constant. You memorized the things Helmut loved during sex. The way he moaned when You were on your knees with his dick in your mouth, massaging his balls. The way his eyebrows do when You ride him. You even noticed how quickly he finished when You let him eat his anus. So things were great, but there was still growing discomfort.

Helmut still moaned for Heike every time he came. You decide to pretend not to notice his late wife's name slip past his lips every time. You just hid in the bathroom, with the shower running and burst into tears. You never imagined that being by his side would have you competing for affection with a dead woman. After all, she was rotting underground, while You were there in the prime of your youth with all the love and affection to give. You just suppressed all those feelings and pretended everything was fine, pushing all those thoughts away and convincing yourself that he loved you. When you were convinced of this, you would take a long shower to hide your swollen face and leave the bathroom with a big smile.

The wedding took place in mid-July, the seventeenth to be exact. You exchanged your vows in a minimalist ceremony with the presence of Oeznik, a priest and a justice of the peace to establish the prenuptial agreements.

“I promise to love, respect you and make you happy for the rest of our lives.” Helmut recited the vows while placing the ring on her finger.

“I promise to love you, respect you and yours until death do us part.” You recited your vows when you put the ring on his finger.

“You can kiss the night.” Said the priest.

Helmut kissed you with so much passion that you truly believed again that he loved you. The party was held at home, a dinner between the two of you, just to celebrate the union of two souls. Due to his fugitive status, he was not allowed more than that.

Married life was easy. You instructed the servants how to take care of the house, you often went to the beauty salon to look beautiful and you had sex with your husband whenever asked. You could live like this for the rest of your life next to him if it weren't for Heike's growing presence in your lives. After being married for a while, being called Heike didn't just extend to bed, but to everyday life. The first time was during a walk through the streets of Barcelona.

“I love this coat.” You pointed to a window where a mannequin was dressed in a cloth coat with colorful abstract designs.

“It’s so messy.” He said. “I thought you liked more minimalist clothes.”

“Helmy.” You groaned. “I love messy clothes. What would our lives be without neon clothes and red boots?”

He laughed at your words and said something that would break your heart forever.

“You look so different, Heike.”

Your eyes burned into his dark ones, anger welled up inside You, ready to explode like a volcano. You let out a nervous sigh as you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. You try to swallow the solutions that reached your throat.

“I...” He starts to say, taking a step forward to take you in his arms, but you move away, shaking your head.

“No, don’t you dare apologize.”

You leave him standing on the sidewalk and run in the opposite direction, blending into the crowd. You spent the whole day on the streets trying to forget the humiliation and pain caused in your heart. After a long period of walking and reflection, you convince him that everything is fine and that he loved you for who you were. You came home at night and found him in the living room. Helmut walked up to You hoping to apologize.

"Everything is fine." You said.

You took one more look at him before going up to the bathroom and locking yourself in there. You turned on the shower and burst into tears and sobs. Deep down, you knew, you always knew. He didn't love you. He tried to turn You into his dead wife; with the art courses, the language classes, the new clothes, the strange nicknames. You were just a substitute, an object to replace what he had lost.

You took a long shower, got dressed in comfy pajamas, and did your nightly skin care routine. When going down the stairs that led to the room You found Helmut walking with a pizza box in his hand towards the stairs. He stopped and smiled when he saw you.

“I ordered pizza, my favorite.”

Oh! That nickname. It had been so long since he called you that.

"I like pizza." You whispered.

"I know." He responded equally in a whisper. “I want to spoil you tonight. I’ll start with the food.”

You smiled at his gesture. You sat by the fireplace where you ate pizza and wine, talked banal things and laughed at silly things. When they finished, Helmut took you to the bedroom where he mounted you and fucked you hard. When he came it was his name that left your lips, You were happy about that. It was his name he said and not hers, but his happiness was short-lived. For in his sleep Helmut cried out to her. By Heike.

You got up and walked to the bathroom where you cried through the night, returning to bed before sunrise. When the day started, You just went downstairs, smiled and shared breakfast next to him. He didn't bring it up and you pretended everything was fine. He still said her name at inopportune moments where you pretended not to hear. His trips to the bathroom at night were becoming more and more frequent.

(...)

You and Helmut migrated to another country. You didn't know the exact location, but according to Oeznik, you were close to what would have once been Sokovia. You have settled into an immense residence, with several bedrooms, bathrooms and living rooms worthy of the title of Baron. The property was large; surrounded by trees and high walls with large silver gates.

"It's so big!" You exclaimed as you got out of the car and came across the mansion. “I’ve never seen a house as big as this one.”

“It’s been in my family for generations.” Helmut said. “I had to rebuild it after the fall of Sokovia, but here we are. You need to see your new home, Baroness.”

Helmut guided you inside where a line of employees waited for you. He introduced you one by one and indicated their services.

“They are here to serve your Baroness.” He whispered in her ear. “I know you will be a great lady for this property.”

“Yes” You mumbled. “I’m going to be a good lady.”

You really were a good lady; The employees tolerated you and things went reasonably well. However, the comparisons with the old lady still echoed between the walls, although Oeznik tried to hold the servants' tongues, it was not uncommon. You heard whispers among them about how Mrs. Heike had more class, how Mrs. Heike knew the Baron's tastes, how Mrs. Heike was beautiful, just as Mrs. Heike had given birth to a healthy boy. You tried to persuade Helmut to fire them, but he disapproved saying how difficult it was to find trustworthy people with his current fugitive status, he said that the former employees were trustworthy and Sokovia's last legacy. You just accepted your situation by hiding in the bathroom every time you heard her name echo.

“What was she like?” You questioned Oeznik one day as you walked through the estate. You felt trapped inside the house and decided to walk a little, Oeznik offered to keep you company.

“Madam...” said the old man with a clear sign of reprimand.

“Everyone loved her.” A bitter taste formed in his mouth. “Please tell me about him.”

“She was pretty.” He started to say. “She had noble blood in her veins and class in her feet. Their marriage was arranged, like all Sokovian royal marriages, but it worked. The young Baron loved her as soon as he saw her.”

You felt your throat close and your stomach tighten with the jealousy that formed.

“Did Helmut love her?”

"Yes."

You felt her eyes burn. You didn't know why she felt this way now, You knew how important she had been, the most important in Helmut's life, and there You were, wallowing in her insecure questions. His body shuddered in the icy breeze.

“Do I look like her?”

You needed to sink even deeper with your damned questions, which you knew the answer to, but you needed to hear it from someone else to torture yourself even more.

“A little, ma’am.” Oeznik seemed hesitant to continue. “You have similar trajectories, I would say. The courses taken in Germany and Spain, the way he dresses and even the necklace around his neck, it was the same necklace that the young Baron of Heike wore when he made their courtship official. He also called her his little dove.”

You let out a nervous sigh, barely holding back the tears. You turn and walk quickly towards the house, leaving the old butler behind. You feel your heart slowly submerge under the waves of pain. Your nimble feet guide you to a familiar place, the bathroom. You pass through the long corridors and the employees who whisper about your deplorable state. Reaching the bathroom door was a relief, because as soon as you reached the door, tears fell from your eyes.

Your mind reflects on how, little by little, Helmut turned you into her. He instructed you to dress like her, to study like her, to be like her. You were just a clay doll in the hands of the skilled sculptor to be sculpted to his whim. You wanted to leave, get as far away from him as possible, but as you stood there, feeling your heart breaking, you realized you couldn't leave. The love you felt for him kept you together, even the mention of leaving him could open a wound in your soul that You were fighting to stop.

After the tears dried, You performed your usual ritual; shower, cleanse and go downstairs as if nothing was happening. As if your soul wasn't broken, your bones aching and your heart stabbed. You found Helmut in his office carrying papers back and forth. He smiled when he saw you and patted your thigh indicating for you to sit there. You sat up and snuggled in, placing your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne.

“Helmut.” You mumbled. "You love me?"

“Of course I love dove.” He kissed her forehead and turned his attention back to the papers.

Little dove, little dove, little dove, little dove, little dove. That word echoed in your ears and you bit your tongue to avoid crying.

The days passed quickly when You established a routine. You alternated between instructing the employees and paying attention to Helmut. Comparisons with the former lady seemed to have diminished drastically; Helmut no longer cried out to her in his dream, and the servants no longer whispered. You knew that there was a finger of the old butler behind this, but you chose to believe that it wasn't that. You preferred to believe that you had finally achieved your rightful place in Helmut's heart and the full respect of the employees. His trips to the bathroom no longer existed, that is, more or less. You no longer went to the bathroom to cry, but you often went to the bathroom to vomit.

It happened on a Saturday morning. You woke up early and left Helmut sleeping in bed, you walked to the kitchen to eat something since your stomach demanded food. You found a loaf of bread on the counter, when you put it in your mouth a wave of nausea came and you ran to the bathroom. After that morning you vomited for any nonsense.

"Enough." Helmut exclaimed when he saw you kneeling on the toilet putting out all the dinner. “We’re going to the doctor now.”

"It is not necessary." You said. "I am..."

You were interrupted by another wave of nausea where you let it all out again. The next day, the doctor came and diagnosed you with severe food poisoning; He recommended drinking plenty of fluids, avoiding heavy foods and using lactobacilli. You followed all the recommendations, but the nausea continued and with it came other symptoms; her blood pressure plummeted with every movement, her breasts felt like they wanted to explode, her period didn't start, the cramps kicked her ass and the fatigue was constant.

You spent half the day sleeping and the other half vomiting. It wasn't uncommon for Helmut to find you dozing in some corner of the house; You once dozed off while eating dinner. Helmut called the doctor again, this time; he diagnosed you with a virus. You constantly took anti-flu medications, drank lots of water and ate foods rich in fiber and vitamins. But the symptoms didn't go away at all. Helmut was visibly irritated by the doctor's incompetence in curing you.

On a Monday morning, you were in the kitchen devouring bread filled with ketchup and peanut butter; You had woken up that morning with a strange desire and decided to fulfill it, the crazy mixture proved to be delicious. A maid, named Jenna, found you in the kitchen eating your strange food.

"Madam." Greeted Jenna. “Can I help you with something?”

"Don't worry." You said with your mouth full. “I just felt like eating bread with ketchup and peanut butter. I must be going crazy, but this feels so good.”

“Are you having cravings?” The maid asked.

"Yes. Cravings, nausea, sleepiness and sore nipples. The doctor said it has a virus, but nothing is helping.”

You took a generous bite of your bread as Jenna seemed to ponder something.

“Did you take a pregnancy test?”

Her throat closed and you choked on a piece of bread stuck in your throat. Jenna ran to help you. You coughed, watered, and sniffled as you choked on the piece of dough. After the feeling passed, you looked at the maid in disbelief that she would suggest something so absurd.

"Do not say silly things. I can’t be pregnant.”

"Why not? She is a married woman. I'm sure the Baroness has been fulfilling her duties as a wife.”

Sex in your marriage was one thing You couldn't complain about. Helmut fucked you often and always ejaculated inside you; the use of condoms was no longer necessary. It wasn't in her plans to be a mother one day, but the idea of carrying a part of her and Helmut in her womb caused good feelings.

“Jenna.” You started talking. “I could go into town and buy some pregnancy tests.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Jenna brought five pregnancy tests from different brands. You used them all and to her surprise, all five gave a positive signal. You look down, moved by what you see and convinced yourself that you wanted this. With the tests in hand, You want this more than you could ever imagine. Your smile is dulled by the tears that fall silently on your features, You needed to tell him.

He loved you, the life you built together and he loved children. The loss of his son broke a part of him that he could never get over. Now, You had the chance to make him happy again, rebuild a new family. For hours, trapped in the bathroom, you try to gather the courage to tell him. Every time the time approached, you found excuses not to leave. But his plans were thwarted by a knock on the door.

“Little dove, are you there?” It was Helmut's voice behind the door. “Are you sick again? I will call the doctor.”

"No." You screamed, feeling despair flood your senses.

You didn't want him to find out like this, it wasn't fair. You would prepare a space moment where the news would be given and celebrated with kisses. You hide the pregnancy tests in a drawer full of towels and open the door to find him.

"Everything is fine?" He questioned worriedly.

“It’s okay” You reassured him. “Only one got sick quickly.”

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.” You followed him, dinner went well with conversations and jokes between you.

Keeping the secret proved difficult since every time you saw him you wanted to shout from the rooftops about your pregnancy. With Oeznik's help, you prepared a special night for you, complete with typical Sokovian food. It would be simple, Helmut would arrive at home at night where you would have dinner and then you would tell him the news. You took the day to take care of yourself, wanting to look pretty for him, you prepared your hair, did your nails and wore a beautiful purple dress, Helmut's favorite color.

You turned around to admire your appearance in the mirror, it looked beautiful. Her hands caressed her still unchanging stomach, feeling a mix of emotions for generating life in her womb. A silly smile formed on his lips as he imagined how good it would be to have a little boy or girl running down these long corridors with black hair and brown eyes like Helmut's. The feeling was interrupted by knocking on the door.

“Madam, the Baron has already arrived and is in his office.” It was Jenna. “Should I serve dinner?”

"Yes. Serve dinner and release other employees. I want to be alone with my husband today.”

Jenna left leaving You alone in the room. One last look at your reflection, You left the room heading towards the stairs. Your intention was to go to the dining room, but somehow You ended up passing through a door. Behind her were pictures, books and a large Persian rug. Adornments that probably dated back to the medieval age. The house was big and even after so long You hadn't seen all the rooms, it was not uncommon to get lost between the different doors that led to uninhabitable rooms.

Before You have the chance to turn around, voices reach your ears. The nature of the noises was obvious and, from the sounds, they were both having a serious conversation. You recognized Oeznik's soft voice followed by Helmut's Eastern European accented voice. You tried to find the source of the voice and came across a false wall with a vast view of Helmut's office, he and Oeznik seemed immersed in conversation.

"This is not right." Oeznik exclaimed.

You froze in your spot. The old butler never got excited, he always kept a soft and friendly voice. You decided to listen to more of the conversation.

“She is my wife.” Helmut said. “I will do whatever I want.”

“Turn her into the late Mrs. Zemo? For God's sake Helmut. This isn’t doing her any good, the employees comment on her constant trips to the bathroom to cry.”

You wanted to leave, get as far away from them as possible. But as you lay there, holding a piece of your heart, You realized you couldn't move.

“She is not Heike. She never will be.”

Every word that came out of his mouth was meant to hurt you whether intentionally or not. You held firm as you wanted to see where this would lead. You hear Helmut sigh and the echoing words break you forever.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined it was Heike next to me. How many times have I called for her. I almost asked if I could call her that, but instead I did it without permission. I never wanted her, not really. I just thought I would have another chance and I actually did; They are so similar physically and it was easy to compel her to do things that pleased me.”

Helmut was cruel. Helmut never loved You. He played with your heart for his own benefit. Deep down, you always knew, preferring to deceive yourself with small gestures of apology and accepting to play the role of the dead woman. He molded her like a little doll so she wouldn't be alone. He never saw you as a companion, a mind or a human being. You were just a substitute and the child You carried in your womb would soon play the role of the lost son.

A sudden pain hit his chest; his heart was no longer in place. The other times he broke your heart were nothing compared to this. The more his words stuck in her mind, the more intense the pain became. Waves of shock and grief hit his chest as You tried to process what was happening.

His feet retreat, your shaky legs failing as you try to move. One wrong move causes you to fall against a dresser that falls to the floor, causing a loud noise. You hear a surprised gasp from Helmut and, unfortunately for You, he emerges through a false door. With all the strength you have left, you turn to see him.

“Baby” You heard him whisper.

His eyes connect; he knew You had heard every word. His expression reflected the one You had when you heard them. The shock, the surprise and the sadness. He saw the pain on his face, the way you held on to a piece of furniture to keep from collapsing. A flash of regret ran through his eyes when he saw how you grabbed the necklace around his neck. The necklace that belonged to her, the damned Heike. The necklace that, even though he knew what it meant, never left his neck so as not to hurt him.

You lost yourself over the years to make him happy. You allowed yourself to have your heart crushed multiple times just to satisfy you and receive nothing but disappointment in return. He never cared about you and he would never care about the child that was forming in your womb.

“Let’s talk.” You heard him beg. “Let’s order pizza and talk about it.”

You didn't let out a tear when you heard his apology. You also didn't cry when you ripped the necklace from your neck and threw it towards him. You didn't cry when you went upstairs and locked yourself in your room. You didn't cry when Helmut desperately banged on the door clamoring for your attention. You didn't cry, not even when you made the decision to leave, packing all your clothes, shoes and jewelry in your suitcases ready to leave forever; You no longer cried for Helmut J. Zemo. He could go fuck himself for everything he caused you.

(…)

Waking up the next day was relatively easy. You got up, brushed your teeth, skin care routine, passport, suitcases and handbag with intimate items. Everything was in its right place. You closed your bags and left them next to the door. A quick look at the clock you had on your dresser indicating that it was not long before you left that place and never came back. You opened the bedroom door and allowed two servants to enter who took your bags.

“Put them in the car, boys.” You instructed.

"Yes ma'am." They said together leaving the room with their bags.

One last look at the room, You walked out the door heading towards the stairs. You found the bastard at the foot of the stairs waiting for you. He had a swollen face, indicative of a bad night's sleep, with messy hair, something so unusual for him. A part of You liked seeing him so broken. Helmut was selfish and evil. You put an end to his selfishness and evil.

"Let me pass." You demanded the moment he stood in front of you, blocking your exit.

“Please let me...”

“Whatever You have to say, I don’t want to hear it. Get out of my way let me go, stop being such an idiot.”

His own words surprised him. You never had the strength to face him, not really, nor to release the anguish you felt for so long. Your words were met with silence, none of You dared to speak. His breathing became heavy, after a few minutes, Helmut finally gave in and broke the silence.

"Sorry." He whispers.

“That doesn’t solve anything.” You snort.

"I know." he says. "Where are you going?"

Maybe it would be better to just turn around and walk away, before the conversation gets worse. That would have been the right thing to do. Unfortunately, the sadness was not motivated by reason.

“You are a patient and persistent man, I know you will figure it out on your own.”

"Do not go, please." He begged. "Please, do not go. Do not leave me alone. Stay. I will improve how I treat myself and I will never hurt you again. I love you dear."

On a normal day you'd go back to him for a lot less. A few days ago, you would have given him everything, without a doubt. But now, the devotion You had for him was buried. A high wall was built around his heart and not even the warmest words could break it down.

"Stay." He begged again. “It will be different.”

Helmut's love was strange. He appeared to be generous, but he was destructive and cruel. He never had anything to give you other than scraps; it was easy to let yourself be fooled with good charisma. A part, deep in his head, begged you to come back to him. But it wasn't fair to You to allow yourself to live all of this once again and it wouldn't be fair to the child You were carrying. Helmut was not worthy of You, he was not worthy of his son, he was not worthy of anything. You had to save yourself, You had to save what little was left of your heart.

"No."

With the final word You left without looking back. Carrying with him a son that Zemo wouldn't live with, he didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve anything that came from You. One day, with persistence, he would discover the existence of a child conceived by you, but it wouldn't be You who would tell. As the car drives, you lean your head against the window, caress your stomach and allow yourself to dream of a day that would open your heart again.

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws #zemo x you #marvel mcu #dark!fic #zemo

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addict-rat · 3 months

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Night Ties

Summary: You were a very famous hunter monsters, one day you decide to go after a famous vampier, but he was very aware of that and he change all your life.

Paring: Helmut Zemo Vampire x F!Reader Human

Words count: 3595 words

Warnings: +18 explicit, mention of blood, poor written smut, p in v, spanks, unprotected sex, bitting, ropes, bondage, desk sex, a little CNC, bondage. fingering, dominant/submissive.

Author’s note: Holas, I was writting this long ago, but I kinda forget when I get obsses with Ch.ai and all that, but here it is, I might be writting more of Zemo in the future. Please feel free to write me for any mistake I made or any suggestion.

You had begun to make a name for yourself within the small towns that were frightened by all those over-natural beings. It was many of those people that lived dominated by supernatural beings, whether they were werewolves, witches, vampires, etc. However, among the people they were more feared and dominated by vampires and werewolves.

It was for that reason that you began to gain popularity, you were known as part of the good cause dedicated to killing or hunting such beings. Not only were you doing that, but they were very few, not many survived them, and for that very reason it was that very few wanted to take their lives to kill a few of them. The few people who did so had a reason to simply want to get rid of them.

You did it for revenge, your mother had been killed by one of them, all the people you lived in had been attacked by werewolves, but it was not them who killed your mother, you had managed to flee before they saw them. Deep in the woods when they thought the werewolves could no longer find them, they stayed for a moment near a river to grab strength and find safety, yet their mother heard noises in the distance, afraid that something might happen to you, I took her to a small cave near the river, told her to rest there and come out until there was sunlight. With the ingenuity of a child, he was obvious and did what I ask, when the light came out he called his mother without any answer from her, came out of the small cave, I looked for her by the gunmen until he found her pale and lifeless body.

She wasn’t looking to find the killers who killed her mother, because she knew she’d never find him, she knew it wasn’t human, what killed her, she knew it was what killed her, but again she wasn’t looking for her killer to never happen to anyone else. He was aware that he could not kill each of them, but with his perseverance and courage he could perhaps make more people unite and decide to end the dominance of these beings.

You had come to a small town where it was dominated by vampires, especially a special one. You knew how to deal with vampires, you’d learned from your group, they’d taught you their weaknesses especially. You could say that you were a little popular not only among humans but also within these "monsters", they had divided to hunt these vampires, it was expected that the majority lived in mansions or even castles, were arrogant and presumed most of them, but they were also intelligent, manipulative and persuasive.

You had decided to go ahead, you already had experience you did not believe that something could go wrong, so you had made a plan to get into that castle, which was simple, it was not like vampires had bodyguards or anything. They didn’t watch the whole castle, so you looked for a room that nobody had set foot in many years ago.

That’s how you ended up like this now, kneeling, your hands tied on a short chain that was stuck on the floor. You heard a few steps and saw a man dressed elegantly, his hair well-groomed. —What a foolish, hunter— he sneered, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. —I’m surprised you made it this far. You must be very brave or very dumb— You only stare at him as if you look could kill him. —Don't look at me like that, darling. Who are you to judge me? You are the one trespassing on my home. I could kill you right now for your insolence, if I so desired. But I feel... merciful— He say getting closer to him, in your position you have to look up to him, feeling like so insignificant in that position. —I don't know if you are brave or foolish, or just a bit of both— He was now very close to you, you feel his hand touching your cheek —You intrigue me.—

That took you for surprised other vampires they have just taken all your blood of your body and leave you completely drain. —How can I intrigue you? — Your voice sounds almost sarcastic, but there was confusion there. —Oh, little one, you’re so much more than “just a human”— He leans down and run a finger along your face, gently stroking your chin and jawline. —You have hunted my kind… Even I don’t really care about those ones, is really fascinating to see someone like you murdered that kind of vampires— He takes your chin tilting up so you can his eyes, his crimson red eyes, you could not deny that I cause you to send a chill in your spine. —But that doesn’t take the fact you’re very foolish to come to my home and try to kill me… You’re here not just by coincidence, I bring you here you alone… Ever since I found out about your existence, which wasn’t a year ago, I’ve been watching every step you take, every decision you make, piqued my curiosity, my dear… Of course I had to bring you here with me.—You feel his fingers caressing your chin as he doesn’t let you go, the two of them staring. —M-my friends… They know I’ll come here, they’ll get worried and they’ll come here to help me— Your voice trying sound convinced that they will come to rescue you. —Yes, they certainly would come here and try to rescue you… But let me ask you a question... Do you know how many hunters have entered my domain? How many have existed?… Like I told you, you’re here because I want you to be here alone, I know where your friends are, and I know who are with them, I can make your friends get killed right now, but I will not do that yet…—He says in a threatening voice —B-but there are a lot of people that know me… Th-they will get worried… And they know I’m here— You say with a desperation tone —Hmmm... I'm sure there are many that know you, yes. But what will they do about it, hmm? Come to my domain? The place where hunters never return from? I admire your courage, my love, but I do not think your "friends" are going to come rescue you... And talking about your friends, I know you love them because you see a family in them.— Your eyes get worried and surprised —What if we make a deal… You have two options, you can stay here and we both wait for your friends and I killed them one by one, slowly and painfully in front of you… Or you can save them by submitting to me and save them, but you have to behave or there will be punishments for you for your bad behavior… You’ll have to write a letter to your friends saying that you retired from vampire hunting, that you found love and now you’ll dedicate yourself to staying with him and pleasing him in all his spades… Now take your decision, but we don’t have all day, darling so you better hurry up— You couldn’t believe that not only he have trapped you, now you have to submit to him to save your friends, he’s using them to get you, and he’s achieved it. You don’t have any option. You regret coming alone and not waiting for others to accompany you.

He kneels before you, his head moves to your neck as you can feel his breath, he lift a trail of kiss on the side of your neck —Frist I want a little bite, I want to taste your sweet blood— his teeth and fangs brush in your neck, you can feel the sharp of his fangs on your neck, then you feel how his fangs they break through your skin, you bite your lip trying to not make any noise, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of the sound of your pain. He sucks your blood for a few minutes, you start looking dark circles as you feel more weak until you close your eyes and you remain unconscious.

When you wake up, you were laying on the ground, your hands remain tied, you tried to sit down but your body was so weak, you didn´t know how long you were there locked. You don’t have any other option, so you have to access his deal. He comes back after some time. —Did you take your decision?— He looks down at you, looking deep at your eyes, you only could nod —I’ll submit to you— Your eyes look down as you say that, he smiles at your choice, he kneels and take your chin looking at your eyes. —Good girl. I will untie you, I know you’re weak so you can’t attack me, even if you try you only have your hands to try it, darling.— He takes the handcuffs in your wrists, you don’t even try to do anything, he lifts you up in his shoulder, your tired eyes didn’t even look the way he is taking you, until you feel the soft mattress of the bed, after a few minutes you fall asleep.

You couldn’t believe after years of hunting and killing vampires you end up cleaning the castle of a vampire. You were walking in a corridor and open one of the rooms, you look around and see there were black curtains on the wall, that’s when you notice it wasn’t a wall is a window, you open the curtain and you realize it wasn’t evening yet, you calculated around 4 or 5 pm, that means the sun was still up. You haven’t noticed the time until right now, and after Zemo wasn’t around, you could escape you have a few hours before the sun sets.

You didn’t take too much to find a door that leads to the yard, and for your luck it wasn’t locked. You open the door and go out, you see your surroundings and walk through the yard, it didn’t take you long to arrive in the forest that surrounded the castle, you walk with joy to the forest, without noticing there were two deep eyes looking you walk in the forest.

One of Zemo’s butler have notified about your “escape”. —My Lord, the lady has run away to the forest alone, I think she’s trying to escape, but I don’t think she might go too far after the sun sets… I know the forest is very tricky for someone doesn’t know it— Of course Zemo knows the forest like the palm of his hand.

Zemo looks up at the butler with a sharp look. —Very good, I'll take care of it.— He says, as he stands up from his desk. —Thank you for the information.— Once the butler leaves, Zemo smiles slightly to himself. —Run away, have you, my love? So eager for danger, eh?— He thinks for himself looking at the window of his room.

When the sun went down, Zemo went out to look for you soon enough to find you, you were lost and your solution was to climb a tree to the top and see from above, which clearly did not work and only served to stay trapped in one of the branches, you couldn’t get off and you probably stayed there for a few minutes until I found you —Do you know what a stubborn and foolish creature you truly are, my love? — He gets close to you, but he did nothing to help you. —Can you help me please, sir? — You didn’t have any other option but plead for his help. His cold, dark eyes look down at you. —Why should I help you? You were so eager to leave. To run away. To defy me. And yet now, when you are caught, you beg me for help?— You weren’t in a position to act up and try to get the worst out of him —Don't worry dear, I already have an idea of what to do with you…– You watch him walk away, he didn't come back after some minutes, you were scared and cold, you couldn't see anything in the darkness of the night.—

Of course, he leave you in the damn tree for a few hours and then one of his servants brings you back to your room. You wake up in your bed, one of the servants enters after some minutes to your room, he was very nice to you, he serves you food and make sure you weren’t hurt last night. Until he mention that Zemo wanted to see you in his room after you have eaten, your face goes pale you know the reason why he wanted to see you.

You finish your food and get dressed before to go to Zemo’s room, with a soft knock at the door you make your presence noticeable to him, you heard him talk in the inside of the room, you open the door and Zemo look up to you to meet your gaze. –Do you want to see me, sir? – You asked when you enter into the room –Yes come here, darling– You obey and stand closer to him, he stands up from his chair behind the desk –So, darling… You have a bad behaviour last night, and you know the consequences of your bad behaviour– He moves behind you while he talks, you softly nod when he finishes, feeling his hands on your hips caressing slowly you feel your cheeks getting hot, you couldn't help but bite your lip when you feel his lips brushing your neck, leaving light kisses, You bite your lip as he moves closer to that sensitive spot on your neck, his kisses getting more longer as he was close to that sensitive spot, you almost moan when you know he was about to kiss you there but instead he pats your hips lightly and pull away slightly. –This is a punishment, my dear. I know you're enjoying this and maybe you get a little more if you behave after your punishment… Now bend over the desk. – He says in a commanding tone, you didn't hesitate and do it, one of his hands move to tease your legs, his fingers brushing your thighs lifting slowly the hem of your dress, your face now red for the situation, he saw the way you press your thighs together, his fingers move to pull down your panties slowly until the small fabric falls on the floor.

—Such a pretty thing… See how obedient you can be— You bite your lip when his hand starts to caress your ass cheek, in the unexpected moment he slaps your ass a little to hard to make you moan, Zemo smirk when he gets a reaction from you. You heard one of the drawers open, you couldn’t see what is going on, you just wait impatiently. Then you feel his hands covered in the gloves of leather caressing your thighs –Oh darling we gonna have so much fun– he leans closer to you in a soft whisper, his hot breath against your ear, as you feel his grown erection inside your ass —I want you to count this one, I want you to count 20 and then I’ll stop, but if you don't say it loudly and right I’m gonna start again. — He pulls away and his hand caresses your ass cheek with the glove leather then again he slaps your ass, the leather makes your soft skin sting —O-one… — a soft moan come out of your mouth.

The slaps get even harder when the number gets higher, making you more difficult to count right —I didn't hear you right, sweetheart he has to start again… — You were for the 17 slap after start over 3 times, his slaps get harder every time you make him repeat.

After several times, you finally reach to 20, you couldn’t believe how much your ass sting and hurt, you didn't have to look to see how red it was, as you couldn't believe how wet your inner thighs and folds were, you don't want to admit how turn it on you have get when he spanks you. Zemo look at you with satisfaction, he leans closer to you, a soft moan leaves your lips when you feel the rough fabric of leather caressing your inner thighs —Such a good girl… Already so wet for me, that was supposed to be a punishment not for you to enjoy— He chuckled softly, his hands moving to your wet folds, a soft moan leaves your lips as you feel his finger teasing your folds to your clit making slow circles, making you squirm under him, with a warning he push two of his fingers deep inside of you the leather glove makes his finger more thick, he moves his hands in a slow pace, he was enjoying the way you squirm under him, your little whimpers and moans. —You're so responsive— he murmurs, his voice dark and seductive. —I can feel every pulse, every quiver. You belong to me now, don't you? — His voice possessive close to your ear in a whisper —Y-yes, I’m yours… — You whine, you were so close to your orgasm. —That's what I want to hear— he says, pushing another digit inside you. —You're mine and you'll do as I say. — His fingers thrust into you in a faster pace, filling you up completely.

—You’ll cum when I say you can— With that he continues to finger you, his other hand moves closer to your clit, his fingers start rubbing that sensitive nub. Your walls squeezing his fingers as you were trying to not cum in his hand, not until he tells you that you can. You squirm and beg for him to let you come.

—Cum for me, sweetheart… Cum around my fingers. — And you did, you cum around his fingers with a loud cry, he continue milking your organs moving his fingers in and out while he continues rubbing your clit. He stops when you finally finish your orgasm, he withdraw his fingers slowly, a soft whine comes out of your mouth.

You close your eyes for a few seconds trying to get your breath –Don’t fall asleep already, sweetheart… I'm not close to finish with you. – You try to turn to look at him when you feel the tip of his cock on your swollen folds, he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pushed into you, filling you up with his length. You only could moan loudly and squirm under him. Your tightness around him felt incredible as he began to thrust slowly, taking his time to stretch you out. —So tight and warm for me… — His lips curled into a smile as he felt your pussy clench around his cock. He increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster. The sounds of their bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by your moans and gasps of pleasure. You don't want to admit it, but he was making you feel the pleasure you never though you could get. Zemo moves to kiss your neck and shoulders as he continues thrusting in you in a rough pace, his grip on your hips was strong, that's gonna leave you bruises the next day. You cry louder when you feel his fangs break the skin in your shoulder, taking your blood. —So sweet and all mine— he whisper on your ear after take some blood of your body, his hand move to your clit, he moan when he feel your inner walls clenching around his cock, he pick more faster and rougher the pace, you can feel the tip of his cock hitting om your cervix, making you squirm under him, you didn't even think straight in that moment he was fucking you deep and senses that you only moan and whimper, you have lost the count of how many times he had make you cum.

Seeing you all ruin for the pleasure just arouse more Zemo, he grabs your face making you to face him and he takes you in a messy kiss, with a deep thrust his cum inside of you filling you up with his warm seed.

Zemo stays inside of you for a few seconds as he catches his breath, you were laying on his desk, blushing and panting, he pulls out of you, his seed come out of your swollen pussy, dripping on your thighs and floor, your red ass checks just give him the imagination of you that he wants —What a messy girl you are, What you're “fans” will think of you? Their little hunter here on my desk all marked by me, you don't want they find out the truth about you? That you enjoy being my little maid and warm my bed. Don't worry, my love that's not gonna happen, because you're mine and you will stay here by my side—

You try to run away a few more times, but the punishment gets even worse with the time that you start to get used to stay around him, you even start to crave for his touch and his sweet words, you fall in love with him, and now you were tied to him for the rest of your life.

#fanfic #zemo x y/n #baron zemo x reader smut #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #marvel #smut #zemo x you smut #zemo x reader smut #baron zemo #female reader #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl #vampire #vampire zemo #dark!fic #dark!zemo #dark!helmut zemo x reader

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punemy-spotted · 11 months

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Iris - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

Pairing: SoftDark!Devil!Helmut Zemo x Sky-Captain!Reader

Warnings: Cosmic Horror; Dubious Consent; Dubious Morality; Estranged Relationship; Zemo and Reader are not in the Good Place; THIS IS A HORROR FIC; Soul Stealing; Incredibly Loose Relationship with Physics; This is a Fallen London x Marvel Crossover Moment; There are Space Bees; And Giant Lovestruck Space Crabs; Violence; Murder; Death; Poison; At Least One Reference to a Garrote; Estranged Relationship; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: Sokovia rose, then fell, and then rose again. And now the stars will never be the same.

Notes: Hi, welcome, I really wanted to write an MCU crossover with the Fallen London 'verse so here we are. Imagine House of M except Wanda Maximoff became an actual factual God and it actually wasn't that bad after all. And now imagine all of that is background noise in favor of one unhinged Devil and one overly hinged Epistolarian. An Intrepid Epistolarian.

Oh also Wanda's waging war against Queen Victoria. It's fine.

For those of you who have read my other Zemo fics, finished and unfinished, if you notice similarities between this fic and the other ones... yes. I am Frankenstein trying to raise this fanfiction monster and put scenes, passages, and themes to better use than languishing in my Ao3/Tumblr cupboard. (Also if you've read my other fics, hi, hello, I love you.)

I crave feedback, so tell me what you think!

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

The First taught Restraint, and the Second Betrayed. The Third taught us Hunger and the Fourth we Remade. The Fifth will live on in the Heart of the Sun but the Sixth did quickly Fade. The Seventh City will never Fall, never ending the Deal we made.

She kept some of the old names when she took this place, you know. Built onto it, even when her Renewed Empress had to bend the knee to the Scarlet One, sealed away in her undying mausoleum.

The Proclaimers of the Cult of the Sanctified, still seated at the Avid Horizon’s High Gate and whispering Truths to their counterparts on the other side, were right — the Seventh City would never fall; the Bazaar would never be compelled to deliver that fatal missive to that Beacon of Bright Betrayal it loved so much; there would be no opportunity to argue that Seven Cities worth of love is proof enough of Her Worthy Love.

If there is one thing you know about opportunities, it is that they are also opportunities to fail.

The long tradition of the Duchy of Sokovia — that Bulwark which once stood the test of time against even the Tsars of Russia — is not what it once was. There is, in fact, no such thing as Sokovia now, not the way you would think. There are Sokovian people, clinging to an identity lest it be lost in the abyss below, but all that remains of the Earthly land which remembered the Duchy’s history with the joint Empires of Austria and Hungary is now nothing more than a chasm of stone and steel.

A monument to violent delights in want of violent ends.

Cast your eyes not to the ruins of her past but to the gleaming future written in the stars ab—

The sound of a train whistle drowns out what remains of the tinned announcement, an earsplitting shriek you endure for what feels like forever, but is in fact — if the clock before you is accurate — no more than two minutes. Which — as it turns out — is plenty of time to interrupt the announcement’s conclusion and leave ringing silence in its wake.

Good. You were rather tired of hearing your own voice drone on any longer.

You turn your head away from the train schedule you had previously been pretending to occupy your mind with, watching the rails with mild impatience and fidgeting with your gloves.

He is late.

It’s not abnormal, really, for the more independent locomotives — those not on the Scarlet Empress’s own payroll, that is — to run on their own definition of time, but you’ve never known your contact to be anything more than a man of his word.

When you’ve properly interpreted his words, that is.

No matter. You have the luxury of time. Collecting your luggage takes little effort — a rather bulging handbag and a briefcase is not so terrible compared to the crates of fuel, souls, and hours you see being carted around you — as you step briskly towards the more busting central parts of port. The station itself has seen better days, almost empty save for a handful of dock-workers and the occasional Employee making sure the schedule runs on time, but as you pass through an open archway into the city proper, they seem eager to resume whatever activity they might otherwise have abandoned for your intrusive presence.

NORTH.

How did it happen? Was it prophecy — or maybe some mad interpretation of the scream-whispers of Distant Polythreme, a vision of the Garden — that led the Proclaimers to make their rhyme, completing the riddle and speaking for the Masters themselves?

Something must have rung true to the Masters, for them to solve the riddle.

Novi Grad rose, then fell. Fell until it could fall no further, until there was nothing left of decades of history but ash and blood for the ghosts of her denizens to wander through. Until there was nothing for the Masters and their bats to drag to cavernous depths.

So she, in her infinite tragedy and infinite pain, became the solution.

Your tea, madame. You look up from your scribbling absently, glancing briefly up at the server and then feeling your polite smile immediately fade off your face.

Must you always play games?

Helmut Zemo stands before you with a perfectly placid smile on his cruelly handsome face, So lovely to see you again, sweetling, and you’re quite welcome for the tea.

You narrowly avoid the temptation to roll your eyes, closing your journal and placing the cap on your pen, its nib glimmering venomously in the candlelight, You are late. A casual accusation, one he dismisses with an easy wave of his hand, just before seating himself before you and stealing a biscuit from your place.

And you are impatient. Surely this must mean you have missed me, little bird. If he notices the way you flinch at the sweetname, struggling to compose yourself before you manage to settle on sternness, he does not say.

You have faced worse things than Helmut Zemo, you know. Worse than the ache that slices through your heart when you look at him and his easy smile, the one you might have fallen in love with once again, if you forgot yourself.

You will not.

Instead, you breathe, letting the heavy air in your lungs out slowly as you tug the fingers of your glove until the whole thing is loose enough to be removed entirely.

You always hated getting biscuit crumbs on your whisper-satin fineries.

You asked me to meet you here, Helmut, a fact which he seems to dismiss with another too-sharp smile, eyes flickering over you.

It burns. Licking over the neckline of your dress before moving down to the delicate pearl buttons that hold shut your bodice, heat rising over the thin lace collar wrapped around your throat, and you wonder idly how often he fines pleasure in watching people struggle to breathe and die.

I’m told you have been busy, he tells you flatly, practiced hand snapping his biscuit in half before dipping one perfect semi-circle into the cup of tea he’d placed in front of you, Too busy, it seems, to inform your husband of your whereabouts.

The knifeblade edge of his voice is enough, slipping past the plates of armor you always try to wrap around yourself every time you agree to meet him, his joyless smile the barbs he leaves in your heart, ensuring it will bleed for him for a few months more after your eventual parting.

The first time he’d touched your cheek in the shadow of a clockwork sun while you wept, his lips ghosting your skin, you nearly fell to your knees at his feet.

That should have been the last time you would ever see him, as he whispered sweet nothings and sweeter promises in a language you did not speak, burning intention into your skin and leaving you forever bound, words falling from his lips like a waterfall.

The third time you met Helmut Zemo, you cried. And the fourth. And the fifth.

You refuse to meet his eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles in your gown with trembling hands, Is this what you came to remind me?

He does not stop smiling, even as you make note of the uneasy tension sitting on his shoulders, the vicious gleam in his eyes as he continues his visual examination of your countenance, tea soaked biscuit melting idly on his tongue.

Yes, it is.

You should be grateful for his honesty — Devils rarely are, after all.

He continues before you have a chance to consider it, How much farther do you plan to run from this place, sweetling, before time returns you back to me?

You wish he wouldn’t call you sweetling.

You haven’t been sweet in a thousand years.

But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? He already knows that, anyway.

Though you suppose that maybe you ought to tell him about something he doesn’t know.

Why did you call me here, Helmut?

Why does any man call his wife back to the port where they parted last? I missed you.

You swallow thickly, avoiding the unyielding blade of his sharp-eyed gaze and even sharper smile, refusing to let your heart leap out to him as it aches to do, You are lying, Helmut, you accuse, pretending to busy yourself with the biscuits he brought to your table.

As always, as you should have expected, he only grins at you — a cruel, twisted grimace that makes your stomach twist not-wholly-unpleasantly — before reaching out and brushing his knuckles over your cheek, Would you let me lie, little bird?

I certainly hope you don’t expect an honest answer to that question.

His laugh is as sharp as his smile, a huff of bemusement you recall bringing you happiness before, a long time ago.

Now it reminds you of the taste of poison, of bile curling in the back of your throat, of blood and metal and the screaming agony of time stretched to its very limit.

The silence too, stretches between you, taut as the wires you would wrap around your palms to cut through cheese and impertinent throats, waiting for you to finally surrender and rise to your feet, gather your things and bid him as formal a goodbye as you’ll allow yourself — always just out of reach, I have no intention of playing games, Helmut, you challenge with the same tone of voice you might use to scold the Empress’s misbehaving sons, If you refuse to do me the courtesy of your honest, then do me the gift of your absence.

He watches you, eyes glimmering amber with insult, but does not dishonor you enough to reach out, There was a time, little bird, when you loved me without such reservation.

The words burn across your skin like living fire, your vows and his molded together in a single remembered sigil, a bond forced with the very language of Judgment, unbidden agony scorching your composure as you make a desperate, futile attempt to push away the memory; his voice soft, the low timbre of his accent sliding over your ears like honey in your mouth, gentle lips on yours as he sealed your fate with a kiss, I have memorized you like a prayer.

You could almost have forgotten he was a liar, standing lost in your memories as you are, forgotten the price of promise and the weight of truth.

Almost.

The tears burn at the backs of your eyes, but you blink them back, let bone grind against bone before, More fool I, then, for thinking you did the same.

You turn to walk towards the door, four sovereigns in hand to pay for your meal — interrupted though it has been — making a concentrated effort to not look back, even as you hear his voice cutting through the otherwise silent room, When everything goes wrong, it is a terrible burden to bear alone, don’t you think?

You cannot help yourself, can you? Shoulders slumping as you declare a reluctant defeat and turn to face him, swearing your heart has lit aflame.

You cannot ignore His Law forever, little bird.

You know nothing of responsibility, Helmut, your voice is cold as the icy expanse beyond the warm walls of Novi Grad station, still aching to leave and frustrated by your uncooperative feet.

There’s a twitch at the corner of his lips, amusement sparking in his own eyes, And what of you, little bird, what have you learned of responsibility since your escape from Perdurance?

You visibly flinch, the name sparking an endless array of horror and memories within you, just as his expression falls into uncharacteristic regret.

Nothing, clearly, you reply hollowly, words bitter on the back of your teeth, Much to your pleasure, I think.

That wounds him, to your surprise, hurt painting his face before he controls his features and buries both regret and rage beneath a placid mask, Infinite freedom is as tight a prison as an opulent cage, on occasion.

#helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #dark!helmut zemo #dark!helmut zemo x reader #dark helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo x reader #fallen london #mcu #dark fic #fanfiction

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violetmuses · 10 months

Text

Intertwined - Zemo (Chapter 2)

TITLE: “Intertwined” - Helmut Zemo (Detective AU)

FANDOM: Marvel (Modern AU)

CHARACTER: Helmut Zemo

MAIN PAIRING: Helmut Zemo + Female Reader

MAIN STORYLINE: When Zemo unexpectedly finds himself working in a new department, you change his world forever.

Author’s Note: Hey! Chapter 2 is here. Please let me know what you think and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much for reading my work as always. - V. 💜

Intertwined - Masterlist 🔍

Main Masterlist 💜

Tags: @norabrice1701 @tavners 🏷

___________

After nearly racing back to the precinct, you mull over important details.

That victim lost their life, loved ones were informed, Zemo suggested that an expert marksman could be responsible, and this tragedy occurred in an apartment building, too.

Yet, potential suspects hadn’t been confirmed as of late, not even neighbors or the summer party guests.

“Could we trace something towards the victim’s background? Perhaps there were enemies.” Zemo sat beside you as a department tech clicked through another database.

“Enemies? A college student was killed, Zemo. Not some global diplomat.” You immediately pull defenses and attempt to humanize this situation. Someone is dead, of course.

“Consider every possibility. As I’ve said, no average civilian would pull their trigger this way to kill someone here.” Zemo continues.

“What else do you suggest?” You cross both arms, wanting to leave.

“If the killer’s bullet planned to send a message, then we should start again.” Zemo kept these riddles going and you nearly cast your eyes towards the ceiling.

“Are you saying that we should interrogate the victim's family again?” Soon after, your heart drops.

“No.” Zemo clarifies his response once the database tech leaves and you’re alone with him near this shut down computer. “Moving away from the inner circle could answer more questions. We have only learned some basics from paperwork.”

Branch out. You think to yourself.

****

“When are you coming home?” Heike asks the question through another call with Zemo.

“Later than expected unfortunately. We haven’t even solved this case yet.” Zemo affirms, sighing for a moment as he paces.

“Just come home…Please?” Heike settles down personal frustration and sends best wishes to her husband. There’s no other choice.

“I will. I love you.” Zemo ends this call, sitting in silence.

_________

The victim’s final roommates, two ironic Criminal Justice majors, meet you and Zemo in a private area. For the sake of this investigation, you cannot risk speaking in public. Of course, it’s known that anyone could be listening, even the perpetrator.

“Nothing unusual happened. We all looked forward to graduation and said goodbye to each other after the ceremony on campus.” One roommate spoke up, shaking their head for a moment after recounting this version of their last few memories.

“Was the victim social?” Zemo clears his throat, offering his own question rather than being cut off by other people.

“As social as we could be during those years. Even I worked through our school's pre-law track.” The first roommate goes on. Meanwhile, their nearby classmate nods in silence, waiting for the chance to be addressed.

All work, no play. More textbooks than tequila. Zemo glances towards you, silently agreeing.

“Any issues?” You question them, trying to see if the classmates had significant problems.

“No. All three of us got along.” The second roommate chimes in and softly grins this time around.

Good on the surface. Now what? You’re standing at a proverbial crossroads right now. Any upcoming questions may very well shift everything.

Before long, you turn to Zemo, who quickly catches your extra round of silence without saying much in return. He needs to help you out.

In that moment, he knows so much better than to slide pictures from the crime scene. Recent television broadcasts show enough chaos.

“How close was your relationship with the victim?” He questions both roommates and those wheels start turning in your head once more. Still, you stay mute, listening instead.

“Not close like family, but we cared about each other. This whole situation is terrible.” That Pre-Law roommate holds their heart while looking at Zemo and furrows brows.

“Thank you.” Zemo rises from a chair and gathers his favorite coat, ending this chat. You have no other choice but to follow him.

“Did we answer your questions, Detective?” That Pre-Law roommate asks, still sitting down.

“You both assisted.” Zemo glances over his shoulder, leaving through the exit with you almost trailing behind every footstep.

****

“Flaky?” You question Zemo in this car, heading back to the precinct.

“Everyone grieves differently of course, but something did not feel right.” Zemo sighs without facing you and concentrates on driving. His amber eyes lock towards the road.

“Which roommate?” You squint again.

“The Pre-Law student.” Zemo rasps through his accented English once more, trying not to lose composure.

Shit. You think.

***

Bingo.

You found information on that “potentially suspicious” pre-law student. After zipping right back to the precinct, more department techs clicked through open databases again.

“All right. Let’s see: transfer student, full-ride scholarship to the university, affluent relatives.” You mark the so-called bulletpoints after printing off details.

“Affluent relatives? How do that student’s parents earn income?” At this moment, Zemo nearly freezes, but immediately looks at you.

“The guy’s father is a defense attorney and Mom owns this beach resort.” You clarify, holding up one part of the stapled part document.

“Two different industries.” Zemo wipes down his exhausted face, plopping down in another chair and sitting across from you.

“We should head to Dad first.” You suggest. “The defense attorney concept looks promising.”

“Fair.” Zemo cuts.

“Can’t hang?” You joke without giving much humor. On the other hand, Zemo cringes as he drinks chilled styrofoam tea.

“I’m fine.” Zemo fibs, remembering that Heike would rather see him at home, not traveling everywhere in this country.

“We’ll go tomorrow. Night.” You catch that lie from Zemo, but still don’t embarrass him.

Both of you work to reorganize paperwork and lock down the filing cabinets, gathering belongings to leave.

__________

Zemo can’t sleep that night. He’s pacing back and forth in the small hotel room, not enjoying luxury here. A glass of ice water, not whisky, rests in his leftward palm.

One large view of blinding streetlights and downtown traffic casts beyond rear windows. No breathtaking architecture loomed in front of him.

Come home. Heike’s gentle voice sends a reminder to Zemo’s thoughts.

Seconds later, your face reaches his memory as well.

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lettalady · 1 year

Text

Imagine...

-- facing off against the young EKO Commander. You have something he wants, answers he seeks. Everyone else waved you off, dismissed you as just the secretary, just the file clerk. No one of consequence. He somehow, somehow, knew different. Knew you were the secret keeper. Knew you had the files/ notebook that he was after. You try to use his upbringing against him, those manners drilled in long before the military training began.

“Are you going to hit a lady, Baron?”

He dips his chin, acknowledging your point with a hint of a smile. It’s a dangerous, half-hidden thing, a snake waiting to strike, “To get what I want, draga? It holds no consequence.”

#imagine baron helmut zemo #imagine helmut zemo #imagine eko scorpion commander zemo #dark!zemo

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zemossunshine · 1 year

Text

Sunshine Chapter 45

Pairings: Zemo x You Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Tags: Explicit. Mature. Not for minors. Dark. Angst. Knife play. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self Harm . Vomiting. Nightmares. Sleepwalking. Torture. Smut. Broken Bones. Blood. Injury. Violence. Rough Sex. Rape. Kidnapping. Spanking. Unhealthy Relationships. Mental Health Issues. Anal Sex. Orgasm Delay. Fear. Blow Jobs. Sexual Violence. Suicide Attempt. Reference To Domestic Violence. Sleepwalking. Memory Loss. Gen Violence. Threats. Manipulation. Manipulative Relationship. Murder. Death. Loss Of Parents. Implied Alcohol Abuse. Threats Of Rape. Non Consensual Drug Use. Emotional Manipulation. Gaslighting.

Warnings for this chapter:Threats.

Darling I have been afraid, I could only call your name. Thank the heavens that you stayed, but if I’m telling you the truth, when I cut the tether loose, it was me saving you. So tell me did you ever really want me? Did you ever really love me, now that I see you clearer. I wonder, was I ever really happy? Lyrics owned by Demi Lovato.

–

“Who are you?”

A sharp intake of breath from both Sam and Bucky, not Zemo, he was prepared as you were. Every muscle in your body tensed, you had to be ready for whatever reaction came from Zemo. You had to be alert at all times, you couldn't afford for this not to work, you couldn't afford to be in any more situations that brought out the worst in you.

“Can you tell us your name?” Sam asked.

“I don’t remember.” You answered automatically, almost robotically.

“What is the last moment you recall?” Zemo asked softly.

“I don’t remember.” You repeated a bit more firmly, that was your new mantra. That you just didn't remember. That you had no memories at all, not one, at the very least it was plausible. This was the only way out of all this mess. Maybe if you just said you forgot it all, then one day you could. To start over as Wanda suggested, the opportunity was too good to pass up. You would begin again, all of the questions that swirled in your mind would go unanswered, the questions screaming at you, would only ever be met with silence. You had to swallow the truth for years and now everyone else would have to, they would just have to deal with it. To be with Rebecca, but not as her mother, it would keep her safe and you were sure it would hurt more than anything you had ever known. You couldn’t give yourself away as easily anymore, you just had to convince everyone that this was the truth. Manipulate them into believing you, to try and beat Zemo at his own game. Fighting all of your instincts and the heavy pit in your stomach you slowly raised your head, schooling your expression. Zemo’s head was inclined, his honey eyes penetrating your very being, as if he were back in oblivion. The weight of his gaze clawed at your throat and yet you couldn’t look away. He reached out with an ice pack and placed it gently on your head, you forced yourself to remain still as he got closer, you blew out a breath when the coolness touched your skin. You attempted a grateful smile, all while your heart pounded. The veneer of control he had was truly something to behold.

“How are you feeling?” Zemo breathed out as if he were in heaven.

“Dizzy, foggy, my heart hurts.” You reeled off the symptoms of a concussion that you looked up earlier in the day. Breaking eye contact with Zemo you looked up at Bucky. His icy glare felt colder than the coolness on your head. “I should go.” You murmured giving into the parts of you telling you to flee.

“No.” Zemo and Bucky answered in unison. You swallowed thickly. The instant denial, you would never leave this house and you knew that, but all of the attention was focused on you. You were grateful to not immediately wake in the basement but this was three pairs of eyes staring, piercing your brain, reading you like an open book and it was far more than you were used to.

“What’s the big emer-” Maria halted, wide eyes staring at you. They called Maria while you were under and here she was, relief at seeing her flooded you, you weren't going to be as isolated as you thought. Maria started into a sprint for you, Bucky pulled her back and shook his head with an expression telling Maria to tread carefully.

“Maria, I discovered this woman at the boundary of my property. She is having difficulty identifying herself.”

Maria frowned, took in the look on each man's face and then presented herself to you with a strained smile. “My name is Maria, I work for a government agency, I’ll need your fingerprints. Is there anything you need?”

Victor. I want Victor.

Zemo’s eyes narrowed. Shit. You shook your head vigorously which brought on a wave of nausea you suspected had been sitting just under the surface from the moment you opened your eyes. Being alone in a room didn’t bode well for you in the past. Maria took a fingerprint on her device and handed it back blindly to whoever took it first, which of course was Zemo. You knew exactly what information he would see, the last remnants you and Maria left behind. All three men crowded around the small screen. Zemo’s face didn’t move at all. Sam started chewing his lip, Bucky gave a single terse nod.

“No matches I’m afraid.” Zemo lied. Maria whipped her head around and Zemo smiled cunningly at her. But it was what you wanted, what you needed. You needed to be a stranger and most importantly not his wife, despite the thin gold band residing on his finger. Bucky made a move towards the door and sure enough everyone’s eyes followed him.

“Dad?” A tiny voice mumbled. Zemo swiftly lifted Rebecca into his arms and a genuine smile spread across your face. Her nightie was askew, her hair dishevelled, bleary eyed she rested her head on Zemo’s shoulder gripping onto a white wolf teddy which dangled from her hand. Maria rushed to move out of the way and Zemo resumed his position at the edge of the bed. Rebecca pulled away and her hands landed on your chest, shocked you looked around, you didn’t know what to do, she continued to crawl up onto you. Fear. Utter terror coursed through you. Yet Zemo has this look, that you were finally where you belonged, that Rebecca was sleeping on your chest, that you were both safe, both home. We made this, she’s perfect. Yet you knew that came with a clause, you would be imprisoned. Zemo rested a hand on her back and inhaled deeply, as if he finally could breathe, knowing you were both safe.

“You should get some sleep.” Sam interjected, jerking his head towards the door, indicating that he was not as sold on this as everyone else. That a game plan needed to be established. You tried to sit up for Zemo to take Rebecca back, you weren't exactly comfortable with her being this close to someone so evil.

“Rebecca is safe with you.” Zemo said sternly, you weren't so sure about that. You didn’t even move your hands, they were still stuck at your sides, the hands that had caused so much destruction shouldn't touch something as precious as Rebecca. As Zemo left he took a picture of you for what he said was for facial recognition. Beaming down and the messy mousey brown hair, that was all you could see, you couldn't believe that you were finally with Rebecca, you could finally see her, be in her presence, live with her, you so desperately wanted to hold her and never let go. All of the things you missed, you never got to do, push a pram, rock her to sleep, see her, all of her firsts, her first smile, first steps, first word, hold her when she cried and you could cope with that, You would go back and miss it all over as long as she never had to live like you had. You slowed your breathing to match her shallow breaths and soon your heart slowed. You waited until Bucky gave the signal on the other side of the door, that as far as he could hear, you were sleeping.

“We need to get her checked out.” Sam started.

“She isn’t leaving Sam, ever.” Bucky growled.

“Buck use that cyborg brain of yours, she lived with-”

“We can’t tell her.” Maria’s voice sounded so small.

“You expect me to keep a mother from her child?” Zemo fumed quietly.

“We won’t be, they’ll be together.” Maria offered.

“A life that is a complete fallacy. I won’t withhold that information from her.” Zemo stressed.

“Then tell her, but she told us to drop a building on her head a week ago. She won’t cope knowing what, who she really is.” Maria lamented.

“No way, I don’t like this. She told me you all did this to her, sent her over the edge.” Sam butted in.

“It’s not up to you.” Maria shut Sam up just with her tone. “It’s not even up to me.” Her voice shifted into something that sounded like it was in pain, you knew how much it would hurt her to hand this power to Zemo again. “You can give her the life she deserves Zemo. We, no you, you can save her.”

Not a moment passed when the door bounced back from being flung open so forcefully and in your panic you instinctively protected Rebecca, placing your hands on her to shield her from whatever was coming. She didn’t even twitch, Zemo’s eyes changed to something more shrewd, he was holding back. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands firmly on his knees in some sort of turmoil, he had to give you up, set you free, just as Oeznik said, although he knew that this is not exactly what Oeznik had in mind.

“Your name is Sunshine. No living relatives, no missing person’s report. You have seemingly appeared from thin air. You will assimilate into life with myself and Rebecca from now on. Her mother-” Zemo looked away briefly, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you to lie about this, “Passed away from complications in childbirth.”

“Oh.” You remarked, trying to take in the information of your new existence, you and Zemo didn't have any family, all you had was each other. By saying you weren't Rebecca's mother she would never have to face the truth, that she was the offspring of evil, you and Zemo both were and you couldn't allow her to be. Couldn't let her know the monster you had become. Couldn't say it was utter insanity to take in a stranger. Bucky plastered a smile on his face, Sam looked as if he couldn't believe he was having to watch this twice and Maria just looked nervous, she was sure Zemo wouldn't believe her lies. Even if he didn't he was going along with the plan. “Should I go to the police? Or?”

“No. Sam’s a superhero, you're good here.” Bucky beamed.

“Superhero?” You feigned as if you did not know what that was.

“Yes. Almost as if you were planted at this precise location.” Zemo hummed jarringly.

“Have you ever been to New York?” Maria smiled happily despite the glares from Bucky and Zemo, she just gave you information that would have been concealed.

“Are you all superheroes?” You inquired attempting to change the subject. A deceptive smile formed on Zemo’s face, almost as if he were considering peddling that story, Bucky was going back and forth on the same thing, Maria stared at them both open mouthed. She was stuck, she couldn’t disclose the truth, not out loud anyway. The precious girl lying on your chest distracted you, shifting her weight to sit up, rubbing her eyes. Don’t be black. You didn't consider that before, you had never seen her eyes, yawning finally revealing her golden brown eyes, your heart leapt. Giving her as much of a gentle smile as you could, you hoped she wouldn’t be afraid. What if she hated you? She placed her hands on either side of your face as studied your hollow eyes curiously.

“Wow.” She breathed. Your smile widened, she wasn't scared, which come to think of it was alarming. You were a stranger with blackened eyes and she accepted you without a word. Trusting. She would trust her own father, you could cope with that, ignore the fact she didn’t ask a single question regarding your presence. She moved her hand to where you assumed bruising was forming and rubbed in gently, your heart melted.

“Rebecca, this woman will be residing with us from now on. You may call her Sunshine.”

She nodded looking back at Zemo, catching Sam in her sight she jumped off you and clung onto Sam’s legs, the same with Maria. “UNCLE BUCKY!” She squealed, jumping up. Bucky's face split into utter joy lifting her up onto his shoulders, where her hands held on with tufts of his hair. Bucky is her favourite? She cleared her throat, Bucky rooted into his pockets and held up an array of coins to her.

“Becca tax.” He sighed. Sam and Maria dipped into their pockets and held up loose change to her, she took one coin each, glee ridden at her prizes. This looked like some sort of routine. Bucky let her down, she giggled holding out her hand to you. She was so full of life, it was remarkable, taking her hand she pulled and everyone stepped back indicating for you to follow. Cloak draping around you, you trailed behind her excited little footsteps. Her bedroom was a burst of colour. A rainbow of tapestry surrounded her far too large bed, flowing from the ceiling to the floor. A few well selected toys, half a dozen snow globes from around the world, teddys that surrounded her bed, a bookshelf full of fairy tales. She flipped her covers back and shock fluttered across her face and before you could ask what was wrong Zemo entered with the white wolf teddy, knowing exactly what she was looking for. She hugged it close to her chest and then placed it on her pillow in prime position.

“Rebecca is quite taken with you.” Zemo noted.

You couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. Turning back just to watch her, to take in every moment as you had missed so much. “ She is amazing.”

“She didn’t get that from me.” Zemo affirmed.

That made you turn to look at Zemo, he didn't meet your eyes, he was watching Rebecca too, almost wistfully. He couldn't seriously believe that she was who she was because of you. You weren’t here and you were not even close to as perfect as she was. “Maria has returned home to fetch you some fresh clothing.” Ah yes, the dirt, smothered across your face, you couldn't even feel it, you didn’t care. You made yourself comfortable on the floor as Rebecca introduced you to each of her teddys, all named after the animals that they were, Rhino, Lion, Cat, White Wolf. She was so well spoken, but you didn’t expect any less. She showed you all of her snow globes that Zemo brought back for her, no doubt from his missions, you had been to these countries, there was a high chance you were there at the same time, swished the fabric around her bed, rambled about the princesses in her books, you could sit here forever and never leave. That's why you didn’t notice when Maria dumped clothes in your lap, didn’t notice that much time had passed, didn’t notice Zemo still leaning on the door frame staring at you both in a state of bliss.

You didn’t want to leave Rebecca but you would have to shower eventually, a very quick shower and then back to her. Maria by your side you walked with ease back to the master bedroom, when you should have least made the effort to dawdle or look lost. Grabbing a bed sheet you hung it over the shower, so any camera’s wouldn’t see you. You had to remember who the owner of this house was, and hope there wasn’t any device in the shower head. Maria stayed in your room, no doubt with the intention of stopping anyone who even attempted to get close to you in this vulnerable state. Dressing inside the cubicle with damp skin, you wondered where you could store your cloak, chances were it was going to be taken from you, but you could try. Maria gave you a look, reminding you to keep your head in the game, collecting all of your soiled clothing, she was going to wash it personally, everything, there was a good chance Zemo might test any fragments of soil. You smiled gratefully at her and you both stepped out of the room, in anticipation of whatever came next.

Entering the kitchen, the first thing that struck you was that it had been remodelled. I seemed bigger, much bigger, A huge island with four chairs Four? Rebecca, Zemo, Oeznik and who? White tiles with black worktops, just like your kitchen in Louisiana. Rebecca’s hair, now not sticking out in every direction, but in a plait. Her high cheekbones accentuating, her bright smile lit up the room atop Bucky’s shoulders as he flipped pancakes so high they reached her eye line. Nothing on this earth or any other could match her glow, it permeated the air. All the times you had been asked what your favourite thing was, she was right there. She seemed so soft and delicate. Sam prodded Bucky trying to throw him off, trying to find ways to make her happy, she had no idea of the truth that surrounded her. You had to settle on the fact that she was too young to understand.

“James, stop teaching my daughter poor table manners.”

Bucky had just discreetly passed her a small slither of pancake, which she was trying to scoff down before Zemo noticed. Bucky put his lip out matching Rebecca's and slid her down to the floor. Rebecca raced out of the room, before you could follow, a picture on the fridge stopped you in your tracks. A picture of you, on display, where Rebecca had certainly seen it, more than likely daily. You were stepping down from a helicopter, Zemo’s hand entwined with yours helping you down, looking up at you, like you were the only thing in his world, utterly smitten. This was the day you escaped the raft, when you were just a naive woman who chose him, before your powers, before everything. The wind had picked your hair up, your face was obscured, Oeznik took this and you suspected it was by his insistence that it was placed here. Maria got your attention and you were sure her head did a full rotation urging you out of the room, where no doubt Sam and Bucky witnessed you tracing your fingers across the image. Zemo pulled a chair out for Rebecca and she sat at the head of the table in the dining room. Zemo sat just to the side of her, still in his state of euphoria. You sat opposite Zemo so you could be as close to Rebecca as possible, Maria made sure she nabbed the seat to your other side. Bucky brought in a huge stack of pancakes, Sam behind with butter and maple syrup. Everyone dug in, not you, you wouldn’t ever feel anything but fascination for your daughter.

“When was the last time you ate?” Zemo snapped you out of the trance.

“I don’t remember.” You spoke clearly, his questions would not catch you out. Not here, not today, not tomorrow either. You didn’t give a fuck about food. This was the best day of your life, you wouldn't ever need sustenance again.

“I suppose that is for the best if you haven't flown before.”

Flown? We’re leaving?

–

Wiping away Rebecca’s crocodile tears from her eyes, kissing your palm and holding it to her barely grazed knee from tripping over, your entire being felt scorned that she was hurt, that she should feel any kind of pain. “Magic kisses take all of the pain away.” Your heart shattered for her, but you would do whatever you had to, to never see pain in her innocent eyes.

“If only that were true.” Zemo commented. Your heart sank, you lied to her, bold face without a shred of remorse. If I choose my words carefully. Then you would never have to lie again, you just had to be mindful with your words, another life lesson from Victor. You didn’t feel any apprehension walking onto the quinjet, if anything you were confused, you were leaving, what’s more Rebecca was. But as Maria lifted her onto her lap and Rebecca pointed at the correct series of switches and levers for take off, you knew she had left the house, enough times to know the sequence needed on a quinjet to fly. She was not as imprisoned as you once thought. Maria encouraged her to press buttons all while she was in control. Before long Sam approached you and asked you to sit with him. On his phone he brought up images of himself and gave you a very quick rundown of how he became Captain America. Then he moved onto Bucky, but he lingered a bit too long on the images of Bucky all in black and red star on his arm.

“Buck’s married to my sister.” Sam smiled, yet his finger traced the word extremely dangerous. There was no way Sam didn’t trust Bucky. “Bucky is part of the Thunderbolts now and Zemo is their leader.” Again his finger ran across the word extremely dangerous. The look in his eye, he needed you to acknowledge that you got his message, but honestly you could barely keep your eyes off Rebecca. Completely blocked out Zemo and Bucky huddling in the corner, no doubt coming up with new and inventive ways to keep you in chains. You couldn't really tell them it wasn't necessary, you were staying in the house willingly. You only reacted when someone nudged your shoulder, living for years having someone who sought out permission before they could touch you, formed habits, habits you would need to break.

“My name is Helmut Zemo. As you will be residing with Rebecca and I, I thought it may be best to tell you a little about myself.”

You're evil, got it. You patted the floor next to you and looked at him expectantly. Ready to hear a plethora of stories that painted him in a good light and how he was doing all the right things now, fighting the good fight. The first thing you learned was that the Thunderbolts were strictly off the books, which is why you and Victor could never find any information about Zemo, it was almost as if he disappeared. Zemo then told you who he was, except, he told you exactly who he was. EKO scorpion, the quite frankly terrifying crimes he was committing in the name of the government currently, the UN bombing, the mind control of Bucky, the people he killed just because he decided they didn’t deserve life. That he had no desire to aid a corrupt government, but he was attempting to atone for his sins. You hated that you noticed when the sun caught his hair, it was golden just like Rebeccas. Hated that you could feel yourself getting lost in his eyes. You hated that he pulled your attention from Rebecca, did you yearn for his voice? Did you miss it? Did you want to kick yourself in the face? Yes. “..Someone once gave me the title of being the most manipulative person on the planet.” You are.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to list the crimes you haven’t committed?” Maria jabbed.

“Should I stay somewhere else?” You asked.

“Perhaps.” Zemo pondered. “I'm afraid there isn’t much choice.” And just like that, it was laid on the table. That you did not have a choice. Like I ever had one. You didn’t give any thought to your destination, you wouldn’t be surprised if Zemo orchestrated you going up into the air just to see what you would do, as soon as the hatch opened, you could tell where you were.

Wakanda.

Well shit.

“There is no need for distress, No harm will ever come to you here. Wakanda is an ally.” Zemo assured. Zemo, you prepared for, well at least you tried to, but Wakanda, that was a different ball game. A stone, no a boulder, formed in the pit of your stomach. Wakanda, without warning, you made a mental note to thank Maria for that later. To be hand delivered to the country to attempted to destroy just a week ago. To physically see the destruction you had left behind. To be in the place where Victor's life ended. You wanted to pay your last respects, you doubted Maria would tell you where he really was now. You had to save face, you couldn't let anyone think for a moment that you knew who you were. Shuri was walking to greet you with the Dora Milaje on her back, all with faces of stone, you knew they wouldn’t attack without her command, Okeye and Ayo gave you a look that almost sent ice through your veins.

“Wakanda’s youngest warrior!” They smiled for Rebecca, she knew them, knew their names, took their hands in her own. You bowed to Shuri when Zemo did, with something that you hoped looked like confusion on your face, It was the least you could do, you did try to tear her body apart.

“You don’t have to do that.” Reminded Shuri.

“I will always bow to you Shuri.” Zemo answered coolly. Nakia and Ayo whisked Rebecca away but you didn't want to let her out of your sight, you were shocked Zemo let her go so easily. Stretching up to see where she went the Dora Milaje moved closer to Shuri, no doubt to protect her from you, she waved them back.

“Nakia is taking Rebecca for a ride on the rhinoceros.” Zemo droned as if he were bored.

YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER ON RHINOS! “Is that safe?”

“You can have a turn later.” Shuri laughed, somehow you doubted the Rhinos were going to allow you anywhere near them. “How is my newest patient?”

You looked around, patient? You didn’t see anyone who was sick. Bucky said something in Xhosa. Sam’s eyes were flitting between Bucky and Shuri, Zemo stood next to you, but Maria, she was making a conceited effort to look in any other direction but yours. You were the patient. Which was going to cause somewhat of an issue, a whole host of them in fact. “ I’m not sick.” You rushed out.

“You are suffering from severe amnesia.”

Anxiety tickled at your throat. You wanted that amnesia, needed it. Shuri patiently waited but you weren’t budging, you couldn’t let her take a real look at you. Racking your brain to think of any reason why you were happy without a single memory, hoping Maria would come up with something as you kept up with her steps into Shuri's domain. She rounded on you once you had reached her lab, you had not counted on that, you hadn’t counted on being here at all, on being around so many people.

“Sergeant Barnes tells me you have a prosthesis. I built his arm. I would like to gift you a vibranium one.”

“No thankyou.” You quipped. Your leg was fully functional, you did not want anything on you worth millions, you did not want to be part vibranium, you would be a target for a whole host of other reasons. Nor did you comment on the fact that anyone knew you had a metal leg, you kept it covered.

Unfazed, Shuri continued. “May I take a look?”

You moved your foot forward, your covered foot, not only were your shoes in her way, so were your socks, as were your leggings and glanced back at Maria who had ever so slightly strained look on her face, which you knew Zemo would notice, but that was easy to cover, everyone was nervous. Not as much as you were, turning your attention back to Shuri you jumped into the air as if the floor was scalding hot and everyone reacted. Zemo wrapped his arms around you, one of your waist, the other tangled in your hair. Sam body slammed Maria to the floor, Bucky jumped in front of you, reaching out for your hands while simultaneously shielding Shuri.

Scissors.

That’s all it took, scissors in Shuri’s hand and you caught off guard. “Sorry.” You mumbled, uncurling your hands from Zemo’s turtleneck. Shit. That was close, far too close to Zemo for your liking. Zemo’s face was full of concern as you pushed him away. Wanting to move on as fast as you could, you fumbled pulling off your shoe and sock, you put your foot back in front of Shuri and held your hands together in front of you and in full view of everyone. A shiver ran through your body hitting the tile, you were used to soft slippers in a lab.

“Do you know how you got this?” Shuri directed a question at you in between her notes to her AI Griot. You shook your head, technically, you didn’t. You were under when it happened. You watched the micro expressions on her face as she analysed Victor’s work, scientific rivals without her ever knowing.

“May I scan your brain?” Shuri enquired.

“No, thank you.” You answered politely.

“A medical exam?”

“No.” Your tone dropped, all sense of propriety was out of the window. You didn't want her to see, didn’t want anyone to see, what you allowed to happen to your body.

“The medical examination is to ensure you are well, nothing more.” Zemo said gently.

“No.”

“I shall retrieve Rebecca and we will give you a tour of Wakanda. You may need to stay here whilst I am on missions, my pardon will need to be renegotiated.” Zemo moved across the lab nodding to whatever Bucky was saying to him, he stopped when he reached the exit and as only he could, commanded the room, even above Shuri status. Somehow you could tell his words were not directed at her. “You understand the meaning of the word no I presume.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but when his eyes drifted to you, he caught himself before he started to reel off threats. He was standing up for you, getting Rebecca back even when you hadn’t asked him to.

“What do you think of Wakanda?” Sam plopped himself down next to you. Before you could even answer, he continued. “Bucky loves it here, Sarah and the boys too.” There was something off, something amiss, as his eyes darted above your head, you twisted, ready to prevent whatever was coming. Only to be met with a needle in the palm of your hand and the terrified eyes of Maria.

“You’re having that medical exam.”

Staring daggers at her even as the white clouded your vision, you were at least thankful when you heard Shuri scream that she wouldn’t have any part in it. And if Maria couldn't use her lab, then there would be no exam. You wanted to punch Maria square in the nose, while simultaneously telling her to get the fuck out of here before Zemo returned to discover what she had done.

You fucking idiot.

–

Coming too you felt so betrayed, not even being able to trust Maria, but in fairness no one could trust you either. A close eye would be kept on you for all eternity. The horror that another human had seen your decrepit body, that you had been violated again, although with good reason, you understood that Maria would just want to make sure there wasn’t anything that needed to be addressed, you would have lied about any pain anyway. Telling her that Victor healed you wasn’t good enough, she needed solid proof. All of that bothered you, what bothered you more was the object in your waistband, one look from Maria and you knew not to draw attention to it. She placed her hand on your back as a source of comfort, but it just felt too overwhelming after that.

“Can you move your hand please?” You stated as it wasn’t a request. Maria looked full of regret, hurt because it was her and after your week holed up at her place, maybe she thought you had become accustomed to her. You were, but you just needed space, which Maria picked up on because she left the lab.

“According to Griot, you should be in chronic pain.” Shuri began. You could say that, you would be forever, checking in with your gut wanting so desperately to feel that soft white flutter again. There was no more white, just a pale grey, constant pain, nothing would ever go back to the way it was before. You swung your legs trying to rid yourself of the anxiety, not knowing how to answer that, feeling humiliated that Shuri had seen what had happened to your body. Shuri showed you a minuscule metal disc and waited for you to nod before she placed it just behind the knee of your mechanical leg. Once it made contact, your dull silver leg was transformed into flesh, with matching nail varnish that Maria had obviously painted your fingernails in. A flawless leg, no scars, a facade, just like the one you had to keep painted on your face forever. Next she offered you coloured contacts, wanting to please her you popped them in, so she could see that nothing could mask the darkness within. A pleased smile formed on her face and your face appeared on her screen, the hollow abyss of your eyes gone, the colour had flooded back in, a disguise, an illusion to hide the monstrosity within. They were as ashamed as you were, trying to hide what you really were.

“I can offer you physical therapy, psychotherapy, You are going to refuse it all aren't you?” She asked with a tone that was rhetorical. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Shuri had shielded Rebecca from Hydra, tested her to make sure she wasn’t enhanced, saved her when she was born premature, all knowing Zemo killed her father. What more could you ask of her? “Zemo is in a holding cell, he is…” Ready to kill everyone in a five mile radius? Yeah i’m used to it. “Griot performed the examination.” Frowning at her, that would mean no one saw, she stopped Maria. Shuri treated Bucky with the utmost sensitivity when he was here, no surgery or deprogramming happened without his consent, Shuri was extending that same courtesy to you, despite everything you did to her. On your way to Zemo, you stopped to go to the bathroom, you didn't have to wait long until Maria found you.

“You need to get out of here,” You urged, Maria wanted to protest. “Maria, you forced that exam on me and Zemo-” You sighed. “This is hard enough without wondering exactly when he will put a bullet between your eyes. You need to go, I’ll see you soon.”

“Text me.” She pleaded. That was the object in your waistband, a phone to contact her, so you wouldn’t be alone, she couldn’t risk it before, but here, Zemo wasn’t in control, Shuri was. Even though he was far more regal, Shuri never cared for any throne, hence why she handed it to M’Baku. Splashing cold water on your face, you joined Shuri, murmuring pleasantries when Maria feigned an emergency and departed. Zemo was being held in a cell with far more comfort than any other prison afforded, Ayo keeping guard at the door, with a loud tut when Shuri opened the door with her Kimoyo beads.

“Are you alright?” Zemo pressed, you nodded avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see the fire in his eyes. You didn't want to be on the receiving end of his fury ever again.

“Perfect health.” Shuri interrupted handing him a tablet, which gave a very vague picture of your health as it was today, carefully excluding any details on past injuries.

“There has been a mistake.” Zemo huffed. Shuri shook her head, pulling Ayo away. You knew what he saw. The encryption that both you and Maria set up, just in case you were ever put under rigorous testing again, and one of the many reasons she made sure she was around if it ever happened. To hack into Wakanda, one had to physically be in Wakanda, and the blood work and DNA tests had to be tampered with and in this specific case, altered to say that you were not enhanced. You would let everyone believe that Victor took your pain and power, despite only a ring of colour remaining in your eyes, but you reasoned if Bucky’s super soldier serum was ever reversed, he would still have a abnormally strong metal arm, a remnant of what he used to be, just like your eyes. You and Maria both ensured that if your existence was ever discovered by Hydra or otherwise, the only thing they would find was a regular human, of no use to anyone. Zemo’s eyebrows pulled together, it would take time to process this information, you were no longer enhanced, no longer a threat to anyone, and as far as anyone else knew, no longer a weapon and you wouldn’t use your powers no matter the cost. A ruse, so you live without your powers, knowing that if anyone ever came for Rebecca, you could protect her.

“Have I done something to offend you? You can’t even bring yourself to look at me.”

“No.” Yes.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?” Zemo purred, as you looked up at him he made a show of looking around, to let you know that no one would hear you, this was just you and him. His gaze was appraising, calculating, you could see he didn’t believe a single word of that report and in turn he didn't believe you, he knew, or at the very least suspected. You shook your head slowly. “You are quite sure?” He continued. You wondered if that was what he wanted, for you to tell him the truth, just him. To say you knew exactly who you were, that you remembered every last moment, that Rebecca was your daughter and despite knowing he would keep your secret, knowing that he wouldn't tell another soul, something told you not to. “Could you divulge the reason you are so frightened of me?” Shit. You thought you were doing a good job of hiding that, you knew that if Zemo interrogated you long enough, you would slip up, you had fallen for this in other worlds.

“I don’t know what you want.” You blurted out.

“I have no expectations of you.”

–

No expectations? Not one? Lies, more lies, you weren’t buying it, you spent the rest of the day in a daze, touring Wakanda with Rebecca showing you around, she clearly had been here many times before, she animatedly told you that she had a real Princess as an aunt. She called everyone aunt and uncle, you were told that Rebecca was cherished and always has been, everyone was so good with her, you barely noticed when Zemo was handed a box which you knew contained your necklace and wedding ring. Ignored the buzzing in your body when Okeye asked Shuri how you escaped from Wakanda undetected. You didn’t clock the bags of clothes handed to Zemo meant for you as you came here with nothing more than the clothes on your back. You chewed the inside of your cheek as Zemo treated you with a softness that you knew all too well, but he couldn't quite manage it, there was something underlying. The fucking massive lie I told. Ah yes that was it, you kept glancing at him and he just met your eyes with fondness. You only really snapped back into focus when Rebecca dropped her new and bigger Rhino teddy on the flight back in a Wakandan Talon fighter, it took everything you had to fight your instincts and not catch it. You had to show externally that you were just a boring human, like the other eight billion people on the planet. Bucky, bumped into you catching it himself.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, reaching out to you so you would actually look at him. “I’m so sorry.” He looked so serious, as if he were trying to apologise for it all and the first words he spoke to you directly.

“It’s fine.” it was not even close to fine, you wanted off this jet, you wanted space to move around, to not be stuck in an enclosed space with Zemo, Bucky and Ayo, who was as silent as the grave. She remained that way, through dinner which was a stew of some kind. You hadn’t eaten all day, not that it was a new feeling to you. Just an old one from your childhood you would rather forget. Rebecca smiled throughout clutching her new Rhino but promising Bucky that the white wolf was still the best in a whisper that everyone could hear. Bucky left with Ayo after rather loudly and forcibly telling Zemo in Russain not to fuck this up. This was it, high alert. This was your life now, this house, Prison. Here forever, with Rebecca and with him. Rebecca climbed up onto the kitchen counter as Zemo loaded the dishwasher, you tried to help but were told no and in that one word it was clear Zemo wasn't ever going to allow to lift a finger, the house was in slight disarray a clear sign that Oeznik wasn’t here. So you lingered back awkwardly, you watched Rebecca ruffle Zemo’s hair as he bent over, heart singing as how precious she was, he didn’t correct it, he carried on rinsing plates, You were entranced by their interaction until Rebecca pulled him close and ran her fingers through his hair trying to correct her mess, she closed her eyes and rubbed her nose against his. Zemo was her favourite, it was a very subtle difference but you saw it, their bond was unspoken, she adored him, she utterly adored him.

You listened with utter loathing for yourself as Zemo read Rebecca a bedtime story, how she clearly loved his voice as much as you did, the voice that could send you to your knees. Perhaps it was time to scan your brain, to understand why it was doing this to you, why it once again was actively working against you as you tried to survive, as you had to play house in the ruins of your relationship, among the ghosts of what you once had. To live and pretend as if Zemo were healing you, like he wasn’t the one that broke you in the first place. You didn't ever want to feel that kind of pain from him again, it also meant you wouldn't feel his love. Then you hated yourself for even thinking that. Reminding your useless brain that you had to stay on your toes, you hurried to your assigned bedroom before he finished. As much as you wanted to avoid the bed you used to share, it looked like this was your room now and as Rebecca was about to sleep you had to avoid spending any time with Zemo alone at all, attempt to make sure you were as far from him as you could be, find a suitable place to hide the phone Maria gave you, under the probable watch of the cameras. You jumped at a knock on the door.

“I’m going to sleep.” You called out, lying again. You doubted you would ever rest peacefully again, wondering if you could haul the dresser in front of the door, like that would stop him.

“It’s rather early. Are you alright?”

No, I am not fucking alright. “Long day.” You tried.

“Goodnight Sunshine.”

Fuck off Zemo. Yet, he didn’t, he lurked outside of you room. Was he going to burst in? Confront you? Or worse? Heart in your throat, you jerked at the buzzing of the device in your waistband. Wrestling under the covers, which at least sounded like you were going to sleep, you concealed the light from the phone as much as you could, replying to Maria.

Everything is perfect

That would be the same answer you would give Maria no matter what happened, no matter what she said, what she asked, today it was are you ok? And everything was going as well as it could be. You resumed staring at the door as Zemo stood guard outside of your bedroom, he would walk away eventually, right?

–

Sleep was against your natural instincts, tossing, turning, laying under the bed, draping the cloak over you, it evaded you. Zemo didn’t leave his station until three in the morning and even after your heart calmed down, sleep still wouldn’t come. Those hours without Rebecca to distract you, the earth would rotate, Rebecca would sleep and you were stuck. Would it be selfish to wake her up just so you could be with her? After breakfast in which you were firmly told no again when you asked to help, Rebecca showed you beetlejuice, which seemed a bit too mature for a three year old, but beetlejuice was the best according to her.

“Rebecca’s fascination for the macabre is endless. Macabre? Creepy things? Like big mishappen castles? An interest shouldn't have you analysing her and yet, she delighted in beetlejuice, someone who caused mischief, a trickster, she would love Loki, if she ever got to meet him. if she liked beetlejuice then it was pretty easy to ascertain the type of people she would like the most, apart from Bucky and Zemo. And that did send some alarm bells ringing, but she spent most her time with them. You told your mind to shut the fuck up before you dug further into that hole, you hadn’t spent enough time with her, she likes rhinos and wolfs too and that was fine. She relented into having her hair brushed after lunch, which Zemo created a dutch braid, against her squirming, bouncing up and down, she then declared she wanted you to match. You picked up the brush and handed it to Zemo, for a split second something akin to nervousness fluttered across his face. As if he were actually opposed to touching you, not a likely story.

“Whatever Rebecca wants.” You met Zemo’s eyes in the mirror of Rebecca’s dresser, trying to convey that this is how it was going to go. Whatever Rebecca wants she gets and she was going to get it because he didn't allow you anything you ever wanted, if that meant Zemo had to brush your hair with a tenderness you didn’t think was possible, then you could face it. Rebecca’s feet wobbled on your thighs as she inspected Zemo’s work, all you got was a face full of her shirt and Zemo’s gentle hands through your hair, Rebecca then fetched you a ribbon to match hers. Red?

“Red is my favourite.” As if she too could read your mind, she answered your question. And you really had to tell the alarm bells to cut it out on that one. The afternoon was spent watching Rebecca chase a butterfly, she was endlessly fascinated by something so simple, Zemo’s probing gaze moved from Rebecca to you and it all felt like a bit too much. She was just so happy to breathe air. Air that Victor gave her. Every playful giggle, every step, every molecule that filled her lungs, was possible because Victor saved her life. Every sparkle in Zemo’s eyes for her, was possible because Victor gave him Rebecca. In the bath where she poured in far too much bubble bath, where she scooped the bubbles and placed them on Zemo’s head, where she laughed far more than she washed, where she dunked her head under the water and squealed as she emerged. Every millisecond was pure bliss to her, she glowed brighter than the sun. The joy on her face was all because Victor saved her. And as Zemo looked at you inquisitively for the millionth time you wanted to cry, you wanted to rejoice, you wanted to strip yourself of the guilt, you wanted to know every detail about her, you wanted to thank Victor, you wanted all of it and fucking hell you wanted to sleep, you were exhausted and yet to find a safe way to rest, and as you were technically human, it was rapidly becoming a problem. Zemo’s voice almost sent you to sleep as you lurked outside Rebecca’s bedroom, this time singing her a nursery rhyme in a sinister voice, but then that’s how she liked it. Going through the same ridiculous steps in an attempt to sleep you emerged as Zemo left his post outside your room.

Rebecca loved her bath, you once liked baths, you slept in baths, you might just get some peace, even if it was a few minutes. Plunging into the scalding milky water, you went over the day, you wondered how all of this was possible, how Rebecca was so happy in the face of the literal murderers that surrounded her, how oblivious she was to it all, just as you once were, how the hell were you supposed to tell a three year old to not be so naive, how you were able to do something as simple as having a bath, how it had been years since you had and they weren't unhappy years. How everyday was going to be spent with you hiding in your room dreaming of sleep you would never get. How Zemo used to send you straight to sleep in here, how warm it was, how easy it would be to just close your eyes. But then you wouldn’t see the bubbles escaping to the surface, where the air was.

Air tore into your lungs as you were ripped from the water. Spluttering against the sudden change, spitting water out of your mouth, chest heaving in an involuntary reflex. Dread filled your bones, feeling that tight grip on your hair, hearing the panting just inches away from your face. This would definitely count as you hurting yourself, but you were just so tired. You knew you would feel his wrath, you knew this would happen you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, trying to cower to sink down so he couldn’t see even a slither of your mangled body you were only met with more force yanking you above the water line.

“Get out.” Zemo growled.

“I feel asleep.” You winced, turning to meet Zemo’s dark eyes and instead were met with his hand covering them, moving that hand to slam into the side of the bathtub you jumped. It felt as if he hit you, hit you with the truth, that you were a liar and he knew it. On the brink of tears you pulled yourself up and Zemo released his grip on your hair, scrambling across to wrap Zemo’s towel around you, which thankfully was much bigger than Maria’s, you ran as fast as you could for your room. In your haste to get away from Zemo in a naked state you didn't grab your clothes, thrusting your trembling hand into one of the bags from Wakanda, to find something anything, any kind of barrier to put on your body, you floundered when Zemo entered your bedroom, you rushed to the ensuite but were stopped dead in your tracks.

“If you go in there, you won’t have a door by morning.” Zemo warned. Pressing your lips together and blinking rapidly, you clutched onto the bag with one hand awkwardly out of the towel, you could not let him near you, eyes wide as saucers conveying the fear coursing through you.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke in a voice much quieter than you wanted.

“Follow me.”

Fuck, fuck , fuck. Yet your body moved, you wondered how he could make you do this, how he was still able to make you do as you were told, keeping as much of a vice grip on the towel as you could, you kept a wide distance between you as you followed him down the stairs, eyes flicking in every direction, looking for something, anything, but then you knew better than to attempt to fight him, maybe if you just obeyed him, he would just understand that you really were just exhausted. When he reached for a door you had never seen opened in the past, words, stupid words fell from your mouth. “I don’t want to go down there.”

Zemo slowly pulled his hand away from the door handle, putting his hand in his pockets with an air of confidence only he could muster, he turned his full attention to you with a malicious smile on his face, lowering his tone to almost a whisper. “What is it about this property that makes you believe it has a basement?”

Shit, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! You gaped like a fish as his harsh gaze honed in on you, touching every inner corner of your soul.

“Are you frightened of basements?” Zemo taunted. Shaking your head dumbly. “No? Then you will not have any trouble opening this door, unless of course you have a compelling reason not to.”

You had a compelling reason alright, you bore the scars from it, but to show that, to not open this fucking door. You could run, which your entire body was screaming to do, he would know. Yet if you opened it, then you might just die on the spot and being in this position with Zemo, you would rather die. Stomach cramping as you attempted a convincing walk closer to him, closer and closer to certain torture and death, you back tensed, trying to pull you back, your hand clamped to towel closer to your deformed body. Reaching out, you gave him one last look and apart from that sickeningly knowing smile, you couldn't tell what he was thinking. Ripping off the band aid, you yanked the door open with bated breath. Blankets. A storage cupboard, full of blankets. How you wished the tension left your body, you felt a cold chill all over, outwardly shivering for some time now, you tried to feel some warmth as Zemo carefully draped a blanket over your shoulders, but the cold wouldn’t leave, so much so you realised it was coming from a small slit between the shelving.

“Is there something behind that?” You fretted.

“Yes.” Zemo answered with one word. Holy fuck. Your instincts were right, this door led to something. Even you felt it as your face changed, instinctively you stepped back, a whimper got stuck in your throat. “The inspiration for this property came from the Cecil Hotel.”

Am I supposed to know what that is? Laughing nervously you padded along to a room you were a lot less anxious to be in the kitchen, sitting as far from Zemo as you could. Zemo placed his phone in front of you with an article about the Cecil Hotel. A murder house, this house, your supposed home was a murder house. Traps, secret doors, hallways, the whole shebang.

“Quite fitting that it came into my possession, don’t you think?” Zemo chuckled. What were you supposed to say to that, how did nobody know what this house was, well Bucky probably did, probably knew every way to your room, they both did. You would never sleep again, Zemo was a serial killer, you were living with a man laughing about killing people, your husband, The man with a proud smile on his face, brought a murder house to imprison you as if it were not remotely disconcerting. When he slid a honey coloured tea in front of you, you almost dry heaved. You couldn't drink that, fuck, everything was a threat, all of it, every fucking object had a purpose, you were fucked.

“If I was going to drug you, I wouldn’t be so covert.” Zemo stated and you couldn't help it you stared at him horrified. “Threatening you is futile, you understand what you are up against don’t you?”

Nodding blindly, you knew what you were up against, the fucking devil. He was being so brazen too, he wanted you to know, exactly where you were trapped, exactly who he was, that there wasn't any hope. Still that stupid voice of yours attempted to defend yourself. “ I haven't done anything wrong.”

“You just attempted to drown yourself in the bathtub.”

“I didn’t,” grimacing at the rise of Zemo’s eyebrows. “ I just, I-” You paused trying to reason with the unreasonable feeling as if you couldn't breathe, “Have you ever wanted your mind to just stop, just for a minute?” You tried, staring into the tea as more beats passed, each moment the tension in your body increased, gripping onto your towel just so the trembling wouldn't be so visible, you waited for Zemo to explode.

“Yes.”

–

Zemo answered, there was something in his voice, more that he wanted to say, that he understood your dilemma, understood that you were trying and not getting anywhere. The tension pulling your muscles taut relaxed slightly, you both sat in silence until Rebecca woke, both not sleeping, both unable to say anymore, not without revealing the truth of the situation. You would sleep eventually, you were sure you nodded off a few times. When Zemo brushed your hair to match Rebecca's, you jumped out of your skin with nearly every stroke, your body was on edge, seemingly unable to understand how your birthday had passed without more scars, your mind running a thousand miles a minutes and you just deliriously tired, not really able to focus or concentrate on anything. Every time you made yourself a coffee, it got poured away. It had only been a few days and it felt like forever because you had to stay alert constantly, gauge Zemo’s reaction to everything, remain expressionless even when you were screaming internally. You tried to wash the dishes just to do something, you had spent years being useful and now you were just in the way. Zemo even handed you a phone, pre-programmed with everyone's numbers and encouraged you to communicate with everyone, you sent off a few meaningless texts, you knew damn well he could see everything on this phone. While every action was monitored, scratching a permanent line into the palm of your hand, because it was the only way you could openly display your nervousness.

“Stop scratching!” Zemo snapped. You don't know what came over you, was it the fatigue? The pressure of it all?

“Yes, your highness.” You curtsied to him before your brain could even catch up to what you were doing, Rebecca giggled and it was only in that moment you realised what you had done. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Dad isn’t a King.”

“No, no,” You rushed out. “But he is Royalty just like you.” Rebecca’s little eyebrows furrowed so you knelt in front of her to explain. “Your Royal, I don’t know the right title,” That daze in your mind wasn't helping, “Sokovia is gone, I don’t know how it works, maybe dad is the King now.” What the fuck am I even saying? Glancing back to Zemo hoping he could explain this better you immediately realised you had made a horrible mistake, gulping in horror at what you had just said.

“I’m a princess?” Rebecca said excitedly. Your stomach dropped through the floor at her next statement, which she declared with the ring of a herald. “We live in a castle? Castle Zemo?”

“Or Rebecca’s palace.” You struggled.

“It’s a castle.” Rebecca squealed, jumping up and down. “I’m a princess.”

You didn’t stand, Zemo didn’t tell her, probably part of that modest life he had built for her, no Royalty, no staff, no titles, no nothing and you just fucked it up completely. How could you fuck up this badly? “The line of succession is complicated, Rebecca.” Zemo hummed in amusement, it was as if he were talking to you and not your precious daughter. “Our home can be whatever you would like it to be, even a castle.”

–

Zemo cooked dinner and explained that he intended to give up his title as Sokovia was gone, he left out how that happened. Rebecca refused purely on the grounds that she wouldn't be a princess, Zemo assured her that she would always be a princess here at home. He tried to explain how restrictive Royalty really was, as if this house wasn’t. But she had no idea, her life was perfect, every moment was a joy. Zemo was her hero and nothing would ever deter that. You sat sadly, full of so many regrets as he served pasta a meal you noticed that would only require a fork and as he opened the drawer to set the table you suspected every meal would be similar considering every knife had vanished into thin air. He poured himself a whisky which seemed odd with pasta.

“I drink whisky exclusively with every meal.” He said with an air of nostalgia. “Would you like a glass?”

“I don’t like whisky.” You lied, rejecting it and him. Zemo nodded and a glass of wine appeared next to your plate, you watched Rebecca tuck in quickly, taking big slurps of her water, dancing in her chair at her new found Royal status.

“Could you pass me the salt please?” Zemo asked, which seemed odd, he never used to add salt to his meals, the shaker was also right between you. You wondered if he was making an offer to not reach out to you, so you would stop flinching, you slid it over to him without picking it up and smashing the container into his face which you thought was a miracle and yet a look passed his face, something he just understood. You passed it to him in the same way you passed him the glass all those years ago. He could make you obey so easily, that was his superpower, that and being world's number one dickhead, you really did not have the mental capacity to argue over passing salt he could think whatever he wanted to. Zemo took a few bites then seemed to wait for you, you watched him make this, sure he could have slipped something into it, but he was eating it, Rebecca was, you took a forkful, lids heavy almost swaying at how tired you were, but you couldn’t let your guard down. Lifting the wine glass to your lips, noticing that Zemo was staring at you intently. Pausing you wanted to see if he reacted, if he attempted to look as if he wasn’t watching and right on cue, he smiled at Rebecca. Placing the glass back onto the coaster you tried to remember through the fog of your exhaustion if you watched him pour the wine. I didn’t. Would he really drug you in front of Rebecca, let your head flop down into your plate and play it off, in front of her. Were there really any limits? Did he have no shame? Where did he get the nerve? You put one hand in the other and rested your chin on them waiting for them both to finish, you weren’t touching another morsel.

After dinner in the study you berated yourself for passing him the salt, because now he was going to read into it. Would delve into every action as if you didn’t have to monitor every second as it was, only now you were with something doing the same, naturally talented at reading body language and being able to read your mind. And you had to remain outwardly calm, had to smile even though the screaming in your mind was getting louder, probably begging for sleep which you really did need to succumb to. Only now you were going to need to closely watch every meal, every drink, every last thing Zemo tried to give to you, as if he couldn’t just jab you with a needle and bypass all that, he didn’t seem to be above explaining you dropping the ground to Rebecca. As if you weren’t self depreciating enough, a lifetime of abuse does that to you. You slipped about the Royalty thing, thankfully Sam showed you those articles on the quinjet mentioning it, maybe you could take a vow of silence at least then you couldn’t make another mistake, there had been too many already and sooner or later you were going to say something there was no possible way you could know about.

Listening to their giggles as Zemo tried to get Rebecca settled for bed you wondered if there really was anything he wasn't naturally adept at. He was an incredible parent, made Rebecca smile, filled all of her needs all while keeping her safe. You didn't want to come back here as her parent but you were less than useless, you may as well be another child, you had as many needs as she did, probably more and Zemo was right there trying to make sure you were happy. Happy wasn’t an option you left that behind, did you leave it in Castle Doom? In the rubble of Wakanda?

It was easy to forget that Zemo missed all of this with Carl and he got to see every moment here, while you were the one who was ‘away’. Watching the flames flicker, you desperately wished you were back in the castle or that Victor was here, he would help you navigate this, in a world with Zemo, having watched him kill you in so many other worlds. How now you could only recognise manipulation because Victor taught you to, it’s how you saw Victor's, although you weren't sure if that is ever what he did. How he cared for you, but then was it his love for power? His love for Valeria? Was Victor your soulmate?

You killed your soulmate.

Victor was gone.

You were so focused on getting back here that it hadn’t really settled in. You were here right now with your daughter because you murdered the man who saved you, who saved your daughter. He couldn't come back, you snuffed his life out and it was so selfish only to want him back so he could help you work out how to live this way. Your heart ached every time he creeped into your mind, every time you turned to look at him only to find someone else's face looking back at you. You could be in Castle Doom right now watching Victor tinker with his machines, but you decided that this was the better option. Another choice, made carelessly without thinking of the consequences. What did you even learn from Victor? That you would always be desired but not loved? That you were a weapon? That you would live in fear no matter where you went? That pain was the very essence of what you were. You chose the endless pit of despair.

Could the world be a better place now if you let Victor take your power? You would never know. And you understood why Zemo hated it so much, no consequences for destroying a city. It was just so wrong, not that you could argue. You fell into that category too. Your life has always been counting down, the countdown of time on your birthday, countdown to your death while you were pregnant, countdown with Victor, countdown back to this house, now you wondered what you were counting down to. Probably the day Hydra inevitably found you.

Rebecca was perfect, utterly perfect, she was the light in Zemo’s life now and you were damaged, you hated yourself for feeling jealous, hated yourself for even wanting Zemo to see you as he used to. How you wished to be loved just for who you were, not what you could offer, and what could you offer now? Pain?

Lurching as if being woken, though you doubted you slept, you clung onto the weight in your lap and resting on your chest, Rebecca, snoring gently against you. You had been sitting here for hours, it was already the early hours of the morning. Head pulling to the tissue held out in front of you, tears had escaped, you couldn't conscientiously allow them to fall, apologising to Zemo again you made your way to Rebecca's room, she had missed her bedtime story, you robbed her of something she enjoyed, as if you weren't enough of a shit human. Failing to dodge Zemo as you scurried to your room, you sighed when he spoke.

“If you will allow me to, I can help you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sunshine, please-”

Just hearing that nickname set you off. “What could I possibly need from you?” You lashed out with such vitriol it stung even you, you adjusted your tone to something more soft. “You have taken me in, let me live in this beautiful home. Everything is perfect. Goodnight Zemo.” You wanted to slam the door, you did, but waking Rebecca was the last thing you needed. If everyday was like this, then you needed to manage your expectations, as if the constant feeling of animosity wasn't enough, now you had to survive on no sleep, no sustenance, with Zemo who was being more kind than he had ever been. You walked over to your new phone vibrating on your bed, no guesses for how that got there.

Zemo is increasingly concerned for you, is there anything I can do for you?

Shuri, Great. You were going to get guilt texts too. You had to try to make this better, had to reciprocate Zemo’s kindness at arms length then maybe you would be permitted to make your own meals. Let him believe you were opening up, that was Victor’s mistake, he let his guard down and ultimately that's how you were able to find a way to kill him. Reluctantly pulling your bedroom door open to find that Zemo hadn’t moved, you managed to repress a shriek at how close he was. You knew he would be there and yet, that immediate fear induced response, something needed to be done. Sighing you spoke. “Can you teach me to drive?”

“Would you like to begin now?”

Alone? With you? Holding up the phone to show the time. “I’m tired.” You croaked, so very tired, so much so that after closing the door, you even sat on the bed, perhaps just taking the weight off your feet would re-energize you, even if you couldn’t rest.

–

Being forcefully shaken you lashed out, kicking and hitting at whatever it was that was bruising your upper arms. You had no idea what you were shouting, you couldn't comprehend anything through the darkness, couldn’t differentiate between the images in your mind and the repulsion of hands on you. Fighting against the blanket tangled in your legs, straining your eyes.

“Sunshine, you were screaming.” Zemo’s voice sounded hoarse, manoeuvring yourself to sit up, pushing his hands off in disgust, you knew why you were screaming. Without Victor’s magic the nightmares returned only now you were the villain, blind in your fury, crushing everything in your path, relentless in your pursuit to kill everyone that had ever wronged you. Through your panting Zemo perched himself on your bed, finally noticing he was only wearing his robe, a new fear overcame you. You were sleeping and Zemo was conveniently with you, while you were screaming.

“Don’t touch me!” You scrambled away from his outreached hand, rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. Blindly panicking, blinking through your glassy eyes you armed yourself with a bottle of shampoo, if only Victor could see you now, he trained you for years, only for you to run and hide in a room with one exit, you really were just that hopeless. You ran away from Zemo, you finally ran, only to trap yourself further. Trembling, you waited for Zemo to break the door down.

–

You woke on the cold tiles with a shampoo bottle still firmly in your grip. Skipping breakfast in favour of a shower, scrubbing off any violation that may have happened. You faked nervousness learning to drive, sitting this close to Zemo aided that, following his very basic instructions as Rebecca sat on his lap, you were surprised to get a text from Maria on the phone Zemo gave you, asking if you were free for a drink later. Testing the waters you said you would meet her later and suspiciously Zemo didn’t immediately lock you in a cage or in the basement. As a casserole simmered you asked to help with the housework just for something to do. He told you he was often singled out for grunt work in the military and you weren't expected to do anything, but that wasn’t the problem. You fiddled with the hem of your t-shirt constantly as a substitute for scratching your hand, you were on edge, feeling useless, wandering around this house, with a mind that got louder and louder by the second. A drink with Maria might do you some good, maybe you could sleep in her car before you returned, tell her about the murder house. You wandered to your bedroom to get ready. Not that there was anything to get ready with, or that you even wanted to. Victor took you as you came, you even went clubbing him in nothing more than leggings and a baggy t-shirt, you doubted Maria was taking you out clubbing. Alcohol loosens inhibitions and you couldn't do that ever again, the only person who you could trust to keep a lid on your powers was Victor. Shamefully lusting after coffee Zemo forbade you from, you headed to the kitchen taking a small sip of tap water just to keep you going, it was the safest option, you didn’t know if Zemo had tampered with any other liquids in the house.

“Where do you think you are going?” Zemo challenged.

“To see Maria?” You said as innocently as you could. That cunning smile of his seeped through as he pulled his phone from his pocket and the distinct sound of tyres over gravel travelled to your ears. You can control the cars remotely. You could diminish the fear from that information, because he had just shown his hand, the cars couldn't be trusted either. “I’ll walk.” You shrugged, ignoring that it would take hours to get to New York, you assumed Maria would be meeting you at the boundary of the house anyway.

“Ill restrain you.” Zemo said with just a touch of shame behind his voice. Which confused you, he was openly telling you what he would do. You knew he would threaten you, it was just hearing him be so blase about it, so honest, was unnerving. Turning to face him, his lips were set into a downward turn, he gestured for you to sit down. You slumped down like a petulant child, you mustered up courage, imagined Victor was with you, hearing his voice in your ear telling you to ask, ask one of the many questions that burned inside you, swirling your finger in the air.

You want to go there, ok I’ll go there. “Is this a prison?”

No hesitation Zemo answered. “Yes.”

“I’m assuming there is a compelling reason for that?” Throwing his words right back at him. That your fucking psychotic? Pulling the phone Zemo gave you out of your pocket, you called Maria and the moment she answered you put her on loudspeaker, in an ill attempt to back Zemo into a corner, ready to tell her that Zemo was keeping you in a prison he got the first word.

“Maria, I have reservations about this outing.” Zemo professed.

“I won’t let her out of my sight, it will be good for her to get out of the house Zemo, you can't keep her there forever.”

“Maria, if you recall you signed the paperwork that states legally that I am solely responsible for Sunshine.” Zemo briefly looked at you with not a shred of fault. “In short I own you.”

You didn’t learn a thing from Victor you sick fuck, I am not your property. Zemo’s head jerked as if he heard you, Maria quickly said she was on her way over to talk about this in person.

“You will not be granted entry.” Zemo said flatly and ended the call. “If you attempt to flee, I will do whatever is necessary to stop you.” Zemo mumbled, he actually mumbled you had never heard him do such a thing. As if he didn’t just directly threaten you.

“Why are you keeping me here?” You asked, knowing he couldn't give you the real reason, but he had to give you something, surely.

“As you know Sunshine, I am not a good man. I have imprisoned you here simply because I want to and I have been in the fortunate position of always getting what I want.”

Not this time. Fuming that he would always have an answer to anything. You heard enough, it was a reason, not a good one, but it was hard to argue with, not without provoking him further. There was no point in begging, no point in trying, you were stuck here and you already knew that. That and you had to text Maria from your other phone as you wouldn't be surprised if she was ordering a nuclear strike, just to get you out. You stood abruptly only to fall back when Zemo moved just as fast blocking the doorway, one hand gripping onto the frame.

“Don’t force my hand, please.” Zemo’s head hung low, keeping a respectable gap. “Please Sunshine.”

“I’m going to bed.” You said meekly, willing to take any small mercy you could get. The battle was lost and if you were honest leaving this place would be a risk, Hydra might find you. Zemo nodded still looking at the floor and removed his hand from the frame, you blew out air between your lips hoping to rid yourself of the goosebumps as you slinked past him. You walked slowly up to your room, this time Zemo didn’t follow you to take his nightly station. Hiding under the covers to text Maria, you told her you were fine. She didn’t message back, there was nothing more to say. You had both resigned yourselves to the fact that you would be stuck here a long time ago.

–

The shower was the closest thing to your coffin that you slept in for years, and you tried, shifting your weight on your metal leg. You drifted off at least once that you knew off, the door opened and now you had fresh bruises, which was just great. It took a lot of convincing Zemo that you were fine in clipped whispers through your bedroom door. And you started your period, seeing blood in your underwear set off a whole load of emotions, you just could not deal with. You had been banned from using the bathtub but that didn’t stop you rummaging around while Rebecca got dressed, nothing in your bathroom. You knew there were products in your old bedroom but Zemo slept there now and you weren't going in there come hell or high water. Nor were you opening any new doors, you had no idea where they led to. Were you really going to need to resort to tissue? Well you may as well camp in your room all day, it didn’t feel as if you were doing anything worthwhile otherwise. You jumped when someone had sneaked up on you. Zemo was close, too close, scuffling back, head darting as you were once again trapped in a small room with him, unable to move your gaze from his eyes, he moved the box of tampons in front of his face. Laughing nervously you thanked him and apologised at the same time. As always Zemo could tell what you needed even without seeing you, you hated how he still knew you, hated that everyone was right about you, that everyone knew you better than you knew yourself. Listening to Zemo read Rebecca a story before bed you wondered if you could just sleep in there with her. Zemo wouldn’t hurt you if you were with her. You would wake her up with your screaming, how could you explain that? Once again you rushed off to bed, only to hear a knock as soon as you closed the door.

“I’m tired.” You called out. You turned as the door opened, Zemo didn't seem angry, he seemed impatient, annoyed, probably with your constant lies.

“I have been called away on a mission, I will be leaving tomorrow. Scott and Hope will be coming to stay.” Squirming internally, they were in Wakanda. Did Zemo not trust you with Rebecca? Not that it mattered, neither did you. You held yourself back, afraid you would hurt her, terrified your black soul would corrupt her, scared you would reveal more information that she did not need to be made aware of. You nodded and as soon as Zemo inclined his head, you knew there was more, that something was wrong, that you had pissed him off somehow. When he stepped forward your body mirrored him immediately, retreating, knowing that no matter how much training you had, in the constant tug of war he would always win.

“The response to fear is involuntary, it is biologically programmed.” Zemo slid his hand down your arm to gently cradle your wrist, gasping you clamped your mouth shut. “You are terrified of me and this-” he stroked his thumb over the pulse point of your wrist, feeling the hammering of your heart. “You cannot hide.” Turning to look at the floor to hide away, you tried to breathe through your nose, to quell the rising panic, you saw the two small pills in his other hand. Shit. Shit. Shit. Zemo did say if he were going to drug you that you would know, shaking your head. You had no idea what those tablets did, you didn’t want them, you didn’t want to be forced. “I think you know what will happen if you do not take these willingly.” Yes, you knew, that fucker knew that you knew, they would be forced down your throat. You wanted to spit in his face, scream that Heike would never have put up with this, that no one would. That you hated him. That you couldn’t believe you ever loved him. That you wanted a divorce. He took everything from you and he still wanted more. If Zemo got any closer you were sure your chest would burst open, you held your shaking hand open. You had no idea how you swallowed them, they ripped down your dry throat. Zemo gripped your wrist tighter, your body knew now, to never ever fight him, the only option was flight, to get away. You moved back again, trying to create space in between you only for your back to be met with a brick wall, but this wasn’t a brick wall, this wall spoke.

“If you cower from him now, this would have all been for nothing.”

Victor?

Heart thundering at the possibility that Victor was back, feeling that wall move from behind you, metal clinking with each movement, to see Victor by your side. Exhaling with relief, because as long as Victor was with you, Zemo couldn't hurt you.

“The next time you touch her, you won’t have hands.” Victor promised. Confidence surging through you, you yanked your hand away and Zemo let it go. You stared into his eyes, a smirk wanting to form on your lips. Zemo’s eyes flashed but you didn’t care Victor was here, he wouldn’t let Zemo do a single thing to you. And that was proven when Zemo retreated.

“Come here Sweetheart.” Victor was sitting at the head of your bed with open arms, you climbed up, resting your head on his metal thigh, feeling drowsy. Sleeping tablets. Victor used the sheets to wipe away tears that weren't there, you could never let them fall. “Your death would have been a mercy. There would be no more pain. You would have been free.”

Next Part: https://www.tumblr.com/zemossunshine/713484377776144384/sunshine-chapter-46?source=share

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #helmut zemo #baron zemo #dr doom #dark!zemo #dark zemo #dark

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doctorslippery · 9 months

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(via MARCH MODOK MADNESS: Submitted MODOK: Adam Ruvola)

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nocapesdahling · 2 years

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Ooh, thank you so much for sending this Mack! 💜

Let's see, my five favorite fics I've written are (It was a little hard to narrow down and there's a lot of Zemo on this list 😅):

Logs on the Fire : Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Sweet: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Cousin Helmut: Helmut Zemo x Reader (Addams Family Crossover)

All of Me: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Reader

Appraisal: Helmut Zemo x Reader (Dark Fic with Soft!Dark King Zemo)

Honorable Mentions: Winter Wonderland (Bucky Barnes x Reader) and Helmut Zemo & John Wick Headcanons (Crossover) because I had so much fun with them.

#asks #mack the pirate queen #I cheated a little with the honorable mentions #Geralt of Rivia x reader #Helmut Zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #Zemo x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #pre serum steve rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #dark fic #addams family fanfic #John wick fanfic

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six-demon-bag · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Helmut Zemo Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Helmut Zemo Additional Tags: Episode: s01e04 The Whole World Is Watching, dark!bucky barnes, zemo whump, Sexual Sadism, Choking, Asphyxiation, Rape, Anal Sex, Forced Orgasm, Hurt No Comfort, not safe sane or consensual, heavy-handed symbolism? in my fic?, (it's more likely than you think...!), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Series: Part 2 of lock the fire escapes Summary:

Bucky continues to take liberties with how he treats Zemo, and Zemo continues to have a bad time.

#hello i love this #!!!#go read this #winterbaron #dark!bucky #read the first one too #but i adore this second installment even more #dead dove do not eat #omg #baron zemo #zemo #bucky #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #fic #fanfic #ao3 #fic rec

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mariaxxxxx · 3 months

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Welcome a Masterlist of Masterlist

Hello, I'm Maria E, She/They. Just a Brazilian girl who loves to write. I hope you enjoy my stories and forgive my bad English. My stories are for people of legal age (18+) Pay attention to warnings, please; Some themes can be sensitive and trigger triggers.🩷🩷

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Namor/K'ul'ku'kan

🐍 Love under the sunset (in progress)

🐍 Underneath the waves (in progress)

🐍 Dragon fruit (completed)

🐍 Fantasize ( completed)

Baron Helmut Zemo

🫐Blueberry (shortly)

🟣 The love you offer me ( completed)

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

🔫Cherry (completed)

🔫 Boy, I want your attention (completed)

Steve Rogers/Capitain America

🗽 Blackberry (completed)

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i3bucky · 2 years

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Hi! Can I request top sorcerer male reader x bottom bucky barnes ( falcon and the winter soldier )

On their way to get help bucky has an idea of who can help them so he takes sam and zemo to readers house. Reader is happy to see bucky after a long time but also annoyed that he never tried to keep contact. Bucky tells reader they need help and reader seems annoyed that he only came to see him when he need something. Reader agrees but also gives bucky shit for it and tells them they can stay the night since it's already dark. Giving each their own room, bucky knocks on reader's door to catch up with him they end up chatting for a while but thier old feelings for each other start showing and they end up having sex. Then they clean up and sleep together holding each other.

Can it have praising ( bucky deserves to be praised) some light spanking, reader using some spells on him like making buck's clothes slowly come off by themselves and reader cumming inside bucky

Thanks :) can I also be 🐉 anon?

“long time no see?” — bottom!bucky barnes x male!reader

content warning! sub!bucky barnes, dom!male!reader, mentions of past relationships, slight angst (?), exhibitionism (?), prep, use of condoms, the reader is taller than bucky (slight mention), praise, mentions of punishment, feelings, l-bombs.

not proofread!

to say you hadn’t seen bucky barnes in a while would be an understatement, so to see him standing on your doorstep with two other men you didn’t know came as quite a shock.

“i’m sorry for the unexpected pop up, but we need your help.” he says, looking at you in earnest. you nodded, stepping aside to allow the med into your home.

“this is sam wilson and baron zemo. we ran into a little trouble and need to lay low for a while,” he mutters, standing awkwardly with the other two men in your living room.

“the first time i’ve seen you in years and it’s because you need something.” you sigh, crossing your arms and chuckling dryly to yourself. “yeah, yeah, i have some spare rooms. stay for as long as you need.” you nod.

bucky thanks you, and you could feel some of the tension in the room dissipate at your answer. bucky allows his eyes to linger on you for longer than they should’ve, an unreadable expression on his face while you show sam and zemo to their rooms.

you catch bucky’s eyes, letting a lopsided smile grace your lips. “im surpised you allowed us to stay,” bucky speaks up, breaking eye contact. you scoff, silently leading bucky back to your own room. “why wouldn’t i?” you asked. “letting three strangers into my home at two in the morning? yeah, why wouldn’t i?” you mutter, sarcasm dripping from your words.

bucky closes the door behind the two of you and leans against it. “‘m not a stranger..” he denies, a wry smile on his face. “what would you call it then?” you asked rhetorically. “everything was going so well for us, and then you just disappeared without a trace for three years, bucky.” you tell him, leaning against your dresser with your arms crossed as you stared him down.

“im sorry, okay? we just- it was scary.” he says finally, after a beat of silence. “the way you made me feel in such a short amount of time. im not used to that. ‘m not trying to excuse it, but i left because i was scared.” bucky utters, voice firm.

“scared of what, bucky? you’ve been completely absent for the last three years because you’re scared?” you asked, raising your voice. “being in love with you!” bucky gets louder, swallowing dryly after his words. “being in love with you was scary. it still is. i thought i could come here and see you after all that time, but i can’t.” he begins, taking a few steps towards you.

“i can’t look at you and pretend that im not still in love with you.” he says, quietly this time, voice soft and full of emotion. you closed the distance between the both of you, leaving only inches between the both of you. “then don’t. don’t pretend.” you murmur, before closing the small gap between the both of you.

your lips connect with his, and he smiles against you kissing back while your hands find his waist to pull him flush against you. “fuck, i’ve missed you,” he whispers against your lips, letting his hands roam.

you take a few steps back, and never does bucky detach himself from you. he shuffles into your lap, the cool metal of his hand brushing against your jaw.

you tug at his clothing, “you’re wearing too much,” you grit, pushing the leather jacket from his shoulders and helping him discard his shirt. he helps you do the same, moaning softly into your mouth as you palm him through his jeans.

he grinds against your hand, making an effort to raise his hips to slide his pants down. “now you’re wearing too much…” he whispers, tugging at your own shirt. you smile against his lips, moving one of your hands to the soft sheets underneath you to change positions.

bucky was under you, your body draped over his while you pulled down your pants and tugged off your shirt. “wait— wait, bucky,” you pant, smiling at the red blush across his face. “how far you you want to take this?” you ask, and bucky groans, head falling against your pillows. “i haven’t been touched by you in three years and you’re asking me— come over here and find out…” he grins, pulling you towards him once more. your lips connect to his once more, grinning at the way he needily pushed his hips into yours

you blindly reach over to your bedside table, pulling open the drawer to stumble and grab the lube and a condom. you help him tug off his underwear and pop the cap on the lube and rub a generous amount over your fingers.

“gotta prep you, make sure you can still take me,” you mutter, locking eyes with his and smirking to yourself. “always were a cocky- mmh,” his remark is cut short with his own whine of desperation. your finger found his rim, pushing past the ring of muscle with a single digit.

his face flushes with an even brighter red as he melts into the pillows. you add another digit and begin to scissor your fingers. the way you’re slowly tugging at is cock in tune with the pumps of your fingers has him panting into the cool air.

soon enough — and with another added finger — you determined he was stretched enough. bucky watched with lidded eyes as you rolled a condom onto your length. wanting to make it as comfortable as possible for him, you drizzled a little more lube onto your hand and spread it along his rim.

“you still okay?” you asked, checking in to make sure he was still okay. “m/n, i love you and your thoughtfulness but i would really like you to fuck me,” you mumbled bluntly. “ever the bold one, hm?” you ask, lining up with his rim and slowly pushing in.

“fuck..” he breathes, closing his eyes as you fill him up with every inch. you’re buried in him to the hilt, head dropping to his shoulder to breathe heavily for a moment. he shifts to kiss your neck, grinding his hips into yours as a signal that you could move.

you pull out, almost completely, and push in again. you gain a pace, pushing needy little moans from bucky with every push of your hips. you prop yourself up with your hands, watching as his face twists in a state of arousal.

“you gonna let ‘em hear, bucky? let ‘em all hear how you’re still mine?” you tease, reaching down to jerk his cock once more. “yes— fuck, yes,” he gasps, back arching and his moans increasing when you angle your hips just right.

“m/n, pleasepleaseplease-,” he begs softly, whining when you slow the pace of your hips to an excruciating drag, making sure to press into his prostate just right.

“what do you want, buck? ya’ gotta tell me,” you tease, taking pride in the way bucky falls apart under you. “harder, please- fuck, anything, i need to cum,” he moans, and he sounds so beautifully broken that it makes the arousal brewing in your stomach nearly boil over.

you move faster, the dirty squelch of the lube making everything that much more filthy. bucky nearly squeals at the sudden change in pace, cock twitching beneath your fingers.

“i’m so in love with y-you, oh god, ‘m gonna cum…” he rambles, chest heaving with his heavy breathing. his cocky twitches again and within moments his cum paints your hand. he clenched around you and makes you moan out, cursing under your breath as you cum seconds after and fill up the condom.

you pull out, not missing the tired whine that falls from his lips. “wow,” he breathes, smiling dazedly. “yeah, wow,” you snort, tying the condom and tossing it in your trash can. “wanna shower now or in the morning?” you ask him. “in the morning, i don’t think i have the energy for much else,” he answers, shifting in your bed.

“im in love with you too, bucky,” you tell him after a while, feeling his heartbeat against your side as he drifts away. he smiles, the feeling tickling your chest.

< i am horrible at ending fics, im so sorry >

#🍀 — i3bucky #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #sub!bucky #sub!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x black reader

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therenlover · 8 months

Text

Balm (A Medieval!Helmut Zemo x Maid!Reader Fic)

A/N: Guess who's back from a 2-year hiatus and dragging Zemo back into style with me kicking and screaming? ME! ME! ME! More explanation is to come about why I've been gone and what the plan is now, but for the moment, enjoy the most-requested unfinished fic I had from before my mysterious disappearance <3

Synopsis: Your forbidden dalliance with Baron Zemo, the lord of the house, has finally landed you in the dungeons, subject to the whims of the guards and the endless passage of time. As your sanity slips away, you wonder what will come first, your execution or the Baron's return?

Tags: Hurt/Comfort Heavy On The Comfort, Reunions, Medieval!Zemo, Maid!Reader, Dungeons, Psychological Trauma

Rating: M (+18)

Warnings: References to Recent Sexual Assault and Psychological Torture (Male on Female, No Graphic Descriptions), Imprisonment, PTSD Symptoms **Stay safe and avoid this fic if you need to, this was a personal project made to help me cope with my own feelings about my trauma**

Word Count: 5,800~

_________

“Where is the girl?”

Sharp voices, some unknown and some chillingly familiar, boomed against the dark walls that closed in on me by the minute, gaining ground with every agonizingly long second. They were still far out, at least a minute away from the wrought-iron door of my cell. Somehow, though, I couldn’t bring myself to care. No, not anymore. If my execution was finally rapidly approaching with the sound of armor and thundering feet, it would be much more to my benefit than anything else the men approaching could possibly do to me. Or what they had already done.

The thought sent a shiver down my bare form despite the hardness of my heart.

Was there any torture, commonplace or strange, worse than what I had already endured at the hands of men who considered themselves to be bringers of justice and keepers of peace? I could not fathom it. Even a painful, slow death in the iron maiden would be preferable to the time I had been confined to the dungeons of the manor I’d once called home.

A soundless laugh, weak and bitter and halfway to a rib-crushing cough, escaped my cracked lips at the irony of it all. I tasted blood with every swallow.

Yes, I decided death was a welcome friend a long time ago, even if with it came the moment I dreaded most of all. In the pitch darkness, I let my eyes fall closed, and somewhere down the hall, the cacophony of voices grew louder.

“Why was I not informed of this the moment I returned to the manor?”

“I assure you, my lord, we thought it for the best-“

“For the best? You ignoramus-“

My lord.

The words stirred nameless feelings in my chest. Screaming, sobbing, nameless feelings that pulled the dregs of my humanity back to the stony surface of my strong facade.

How long had it been since those words had left my lips, a veneration above all others reserved only for the man I loved, despite their demands? I couldn’t even wager a guess. There were no windows in the dank room that served as my personal hell, just darkness and torchlight. The only way of keeping track of the suns and moons that passed was through the changing of the guards, and I had come to anticipate those for an entirely different reason. Counting the days had ceased being a priority long ago. It was much more important to count the passing shifts in order to prepare for the true punishment, doled out by faceless men in near-identical leathers. Here I was little more than the Baron’s abandoned whore, and rather than counting days I counted the cycling of warm bodies in the frigid underground air.

Horror and shame and rage coursed hot in my veins at the thought.

Surely this amount of men could only mean I was to be escorted to your execution, but I wondered in the darkness: Would they defile me one last time before dragging me out into the square, heavy hands and covetous eyes taking and taking and taking until there was no chance of forgetting what they had stolen from me, even as I took my final breaths? Or would they feign justice instead, slipping my bruised body back into the rough prisoner’s uniform that had remained crumpled in the corner far beyond my reach since the first hours I’d spent at their mercy? Either way, their impure actions would be evident when they dragged me out to the town square, which was a small blessing amongst the terrors that awaited. Maybe it would not be clear to the public, but the Baron… he would know.

He had known every inch of me. He would have to know.

He would see the marks, so similar to those left by his own fingers and teeth and lips and palms, and he would know the truth of the cruelty I’d faced, but he wouldn’t turn away from the sight of my broken body. It was his job as a crowned head to witness my death to the end the same as any other prisoner, no matter how gruesome or horrible an end I met. Perhaps that was to be his end of the punishment for the beautiful crime we’d shared. Perhaps, in a turn of events that I could only now imagine in the depths of my despair, he wouldn’t feel pain or punishment at all. My head could roll to his feet with no more than a tired sigh from his royal lips.

None of those possibilities really mattered though. Nothing mattered because nothing could be changed. Not anymore.

Distantly, I wondered if they would hang me, burn me, or separate me from my head. If I was especially unlucky, which I usually was, they might choose to make an example out of me and choose to draw and quarter me instead. The thoughts hung heavy in my mind, and all the while the end of my life drew closer and closer, marked by angered shouts and the gentle glow of torchlight, growing brighter and brighter in the corner of my sight.

I closed my eyes to the oncoming reality.

Seeing their reaction to me, strung up nude and probably still dripping with spend, would be too much. instead, I allowed myself to listen. That was the one sense they could not sully or steal away from me. Besides, if I kept my eyes open I would be forced to behold the faces of the guards, and I would much rather not have features to put to the nameless, faceless shadows that haunted both my nightmares and every waking hour. I had managed to keep them anonymous in my mind until now, and I would prefer to keep them that way until the end.

Something clanged a few feet away from the cell door, loud and tinny.

A voice called out from beside the noise, low and raspy. Familiar in the worst of ways. “My lord, what are you doing down here?”

“Where is she?” A new voice replied, “Which cell?”

Or… perhaps the voice wasn’t new. It rattled something within me, and slowly my memories regained some of their clarity. His voice was louder than I was used to hearing it, rougher around the edges than I remembered, but it was Helmut’s voice nonetheless. A weak smile spread across my bloodied lips despite my internal protestations.

He had come.

For what reason I still couldn’t say, but he was right there. He had come back and he was searching for me. The sound of him, his heavy footsteps and thunderous timbre close enough that I could almost imagine grasping the sounds from the air… I could not begin to describe the strange feeling bubbling up through my chest at his very presence, so close and yet so far. Still, I did not dare make a noise, I doubted I could manage a shout or even a whimper if I tried to, and instead, I listened as intently as I could.

The frantic conversation outside only grew louder as the men approached my cell. It was hard to fully focus on it. Through my hazy delirium of starvation and pain and hope, I could only focus on the image of his face in my mind, smiling brightly down at me in the firelight as he had so many times before. His touch was a phantom on my burning skin. It was a memory so close to reality that if I kept my eyes squeezed shut, it was almost indiscernible from the real thing, down to the bruises on my hips and the ache in my legs. Still, it was a fantasy, the final beautiful dream of a scullery maid who had taken too much from this cruel world to be allowed to continue to live in it.

I relished in every single moment I was gifted with him; past and present, real and imagined. There was little else I could possibly do but wait and hope, and hope was a dangerous thing.

“I’m afraid you’re too late, Baron. She is… no longer with us,”

The words made all the warmth I’d gathered up through my dreaming turn sour and cold in an instant. This was why hope was such a dangerous game for me to play. It comes just as easily as it goes, but it never leaves without taking something with it.

“What?”

“Her womanly constitution was simply too weak for the dungeons, my lord. We did everything by the book, I assure you of that, but she couldn’t manage it past the first week. She. Perished in her sleep,”

The guard's voice was so sickeningly genuine that even I almost believed him.

“That cannot be true. I refuse to believe it is true,”

“Aye, my lord. Any of us men could verify,”

Metal slammed against metal in the distance as shouting began in earnest, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. No, my mind was far, far away as I pondered the consequences of what I had witnessed.

I began to think that they never intended to let me die. At least not in the way I had been meant to. Instead, they would kill my soul and rob me of my sanity until my heart simply gave out from the horror of it all, hidden away in the bowels of the Baron’s manor where screams of pain and wails for help would fall on deaf ears. No one would come looking for me again. No one would even know I had survived. A sob escaped my mouth, breathy and broken. Would the tortures never cease?

A sudden silence followed.

Helmut spoke again in a quiet, measured tone. “What was that noise,”

I sniffled as the faceless man outside the door clambered to cover up whatever had caught the Baron’s attention.

“What, my lord?”

“That noise. What. Was. It.” The T seemed to be spat from the baron’s quivering lips. “I thought you said no others remained in these cells as we descended, so what could possibly be making noise?”

“I can assure you it was-“

A slam echoed through the dungeon. “Tell me the truth, or I shall imprison you long enough to find out when someone of your… constitution would perish under these conditions.”

There was silence.

No one spoke or moved an inch. I couldn’t even manage a whimper in that soundless eternal moment that seemed to stretch on and on into the oblivion that surrounded me on all sides. Creaking armor finally cut through it all, breaking through the void, and like a spark on dry kindling, everything burned quickly from there. Something clattered to the ground, metal rattled, boots stomped and keys clanged on their loop. Still, I could not bring myself to open my eyes, even as the great iron door of my cells groaned open and exposed my bare body to a new rush of freezing air from the hall.

All at once, silence prevailed again, cut only by the wails of air rushing down from the stairway.

I couldn’t lift my head; it was far too heavy on my trembling shoulders with my grubby, matted hair falling like a filthy curtain in front of my face. I didn’t need to lift it, though, to know Helmut was there in the doorway, beholding me in all my shame. Another sob cut its way through my throat and body at the thought. I was so consumed in my pain that I almost missed the sound of soft footsteps on the packed earthen floor beneath me.

“Schatz?” He whispered. I winced at the tenderness of the nickname he had once grown so fond of. It was like I could slowly feel him comprehending the level of my suffering the longer I sat, eyes screwed shut. If I stayed just like that, unmoving and unseeing, I might be able to imagine it all away like a dream. That was easier than the alternative. He had finally seen me as what I had always been: nothing. It was only a matter of time before his kindness soured too.

Despite the gruesome scene before him, though, he did not turn away. He did not run.

Instead, the Baron took a few tentative steps forward. I could practically feel his presence before me. Then he inhaled, sharp, but stayed silent for a moment more. If I hadn’t dared to know him better, I would have thought he had reached out to touch me before choosing another course of action. He couldn’t have done that, though. There was no possible way he still cared for me, especially after seeing me in such a state of filth and shame. Right?

“Oh, my sweetest one,” Helmut murmured, “what have they done to you?”

And just like that, I shattered at his slightest word.

“M-my lord, I…” my throat burned in protestation, a thousand red-hot needles thrust with every breathy whisper, “I have failed you. Punish me how you see fit,” In a sudden rush of pain, it was as though I could feel every bruise and slice on my body, every aching muscle in my arms screaming for release from the manacles above my head. I didn’t dare strain against the restraints, though, because even with Helmut present I couldn’t fathom what might happen if I stepped out of line knowing the guards were just steps away at the door. Despite the fear, it was excruciating.

As if he could sense your agony, the Baron jumped into action. “Someone remove her shackles! Now!” He shouted back towards the door.

I could hear a bit of shuffling behind him, trembling as the noises grew closer and louder. There were people with us now, people who might witness firsthand the impropriety of my relationship with the lord of the house. People who would use that against me in the worst of ways. A whimper escaped my lips at the thought as I could feel them lean in to undo my hands from the bolts on the wall. Though no one else would possibly notice, the man above me still smelled like sex.

Helmut was a constant tether to sanity through the terror. A distraction from the world outside the two of us in each following moment.

“You have not failed me, little one,” he said, “In fact, I’m incredibly proud of how strong you must have been.” His voice was soft, one only ever used for me. It felt almost too good to be true.

I shook my head, ignoring the sharp pains that shot through my neck, eyes still firmly closed. I couldn’t allow myself to hope. Not yet. “Why have you come here?” I begged, “We cannot be seen together. Your reputation…”

He sighed softly, and a familiar hand came to rest on my knee. I jumped from the alien sensation at first but corrected myself quickly. It was just Helmut. I knew those calloused palms by touch alone, as sure as I knew my own. Those hands were just as incapable of hurting me now as they had been when I first held them in the soft lamplight of the harvest festival so many moons ago.

“I am the head of this manor and the Baron of these lands. If I wish to protect the woman I love, I am well within my rights to do so,”

“Don’t,” I protested.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t give me hope. Not now, not so soon before we’ll be parted again,”

With a loud clunk, my wrists were released from their manacles.

After however long I had been imprisoned in this dark, wet hell, the muscles in my arms had weakened considerably. What once was toned muscle from years of labor now sat taut against bone, withered away with time and disuse. I could do little more than let them drop to my sides as the Baron rubbed calming circles into my knee with his thumb.

Why couldn’t he see how much it would hurt to be apart from him after this agony? How allowing me to dream now would only mean those dreams could be crushed when he returned to his life above. I had committed a crime, after all. Even if the punishment I had endured until this moment ended, I would still serve the rest of my treasonous sentence to the death without him. Alone. It all made me feel so defeated that I could do little more than cry dry tears and memorize the feeling of his skin on mine. It would keep my mind with me longer once he had gone if there was a pleasant memory to cling to. I couldn’t decide, though, if keeping my mind would be a blessing or a curse.

Helmut didn’t give up despite my insistence on pushing him away. In fact, I could almost imagine he grew gentler as a few guards shuffled about behind him. “Where are the fine clothes I had given you, my love?” he asked, “How can I warm you?”

What little moisture had returned to my mouth dried completely in an instant at his words. I couldn’t rip the answer from my tongue if I was forced to with a dagger at my heart.

Still, the Baron tried again. “If they’re here, please try to guide me to them. I can have one of the guards retrieve them,” The moment he mentioned the guard, every muscle in my body tensed, trembling from the effort of it all despite my mental protestations to calm. I couldn’t raise any alarms. I was too late, though. Helmut took note of my reaction with a measured rage as his teeth snapped together. “Ah,” his voice was a low growl, “I see now. No need to fret, Schatz. I’ll have Oeznik bring you a fresh gown. You won’t need whatever they dressed you in down here from now on anyway,”

Distantly, I could hear the hurried rush of slippered feet disappearing down the stone corridor, and I could only assume it was the trusted manservant following his lord’s orders to fetch me some clothes. I was so focused on following the sound of footfalls up the stairs that I almost didn’t notice the warmth of a cloak settling around my bare shoulders, draping over my nudeness and surrounding me with the string musk of cedarwood and sweat. I almost felt safe there, within the thick fur and leather of that mantle. When was the last time that had been even partially true? I couldn’t honestly say I knew. Maybe was that Helmut was there, so close to my side, or maybe it was that my modesty was covered for the first time in gods know how long, but no matter which was true, a strange sense of relief began to flood my veins. It burbled up to the surface like some sort of warm natural spring flowing from the very core of my being. For the first time in ages, I could breathe without terror, even if not without pain.

After the initial rush, though, it almost felt as though not facing my imminent demise made everything worse.

If I wasn’t actively about to be executed at any given time, that meant I had to face the things I’d seen, the things that had been done to me… oh yes, things felt much worse when I had to confront them in the proverbial light of day.

All at once, I learned that there were fates far worse than death and that mine was one of them.

A gasp, wet with blood and spittle, escaped my throat as I burrowed deeper into the cloak, pressing my face to the collar where the Baron’s scent was strongest. He was quick to bring a hand to my face, but I pulled away from the gesture. I couldn’t bear to look at him. To let him look at me… it was unfathomable. Not as I was.

Despite everything, Helmut was as patient as he could be while I trembled there. He rubbed his calloused thumb slowly over my gaunt cheeks, hushed me, and dried my tears. Everything about him seemed to radiate comfort like the sun.

The switch flipped when one of the guards made the mistake of speaking.

“Baron,” the new voice said, voice low, “don’t you think it best to-“

He never got to finish his sentence.

No, before he had the chance to utter another syllable, Helmut was standing at his full height and grasping the man firmly by some piece of his armor, dragging him closer across the muck on the floor.

“What were you about to say to me?” The man did not reply, but the Baron refused to relent to his silence. “I asked you a question, worm. When your lord commands, you obey,”

The guard's reply was stuttered out as soon as his heaving breaths allowed him a moment's respite. Was Helmut… choking him?

“I was going to suggest that you return to your father to get an official pardon before you decide to elope with a rightfully imprisoned woman, Baron, no matter the nature of your business with her. Need I remind you that he is the true Baron of this manor until his passing, after all,”

That was, evidently, not the correct thing to say.

A growl ripped free of Helmut’s throat that could have been loosed by a wild beast as he shoved the man harshly to the floor.

I heard others move to defend their comrade, but they all seemed to still at the sight of Helmut’s ferocity. In an instant he was standing over the fallen guard with what I could only imagine was a murderous rage from behind my shut eyelids.

“Rightfully imprisoned? Rightfully imprisoned?” Rage dripped from every seething word, “There is no rightful imprisonment when you strip a prisoner of their decency- of their humanity! When was the last time she was fed? Allowed time off the rack to care for herself? Rightfully imprisoned… you lost the right to claim that the second you locked her down here without the advisory of my father, who has given me full permission to free her and return her to my quarters immediately,” Helmut paused for a moment before adding, gravely, “I shall call a healer for her there to confirm what I believe to be true, and if it is… well, may the gods have mercy on your souls, because I certainly will not,” With that, he spat into the face of the guard at his feet and stepped back, taking heaving breaths, though I could not tell if it was from the effort of his rage or the effort of holding it back.

The moments that followed beloved into sort of quiet chaos in the darkness of my mind. There was a shirt scuffle as the guard seemingly rose to his feet once more, aided by his compatriots, while Helmut stood silent. I could just make out the shaky sound of his ragged breathing. Everything else just melded into a cacophony of voices and loud, disjointed noises that seemed to jump out of the darkness and straight for me. It made me want to implode.

It was as if, all at once, everything became… too much to bear. The air was too thick and the sounds were too loud and every inch of my being was alight with small bursts of needling pain, driving far past my skin and deep into my bones as the room grew colder and colder around me. The sensations were nothing compared to the tortures I had endured before, physically or otherwise, but with the promise of freedom and safety waiting so closely to me in the form of the man that I loved, even the smallest of pains felt unbearable and unending. It was as if every bit of suffering. Had fought through at the hands of the guards to survive to see this glimmer of hope had been compounded into one, large pressure that threatened to crush me the second I clawed my way to freedom.

Helmut would never allow that to happen, though. Not again. Not after he had seen me in this state. I could only suspect that this newfound softness in him meant he wouldn’t allow me away from his side for quite some time, no matter how ridiculous or unbelievable such an idea seemed. In the deepest, most shameful corners of my heart, I could only hope it would be true. I wanted desperately to be tucked away someplace soft and warm and utterly mundane where I would never be forced to face another ounce of horror or darkness for the rest of my life.

Somewhere between the sudden influx of sensation and the daydream of peace, I forgot to keep my eyes shut.

My eyelashes peeled apart, adhered together with some sort of muck, revealing Helmut standing before me. The sight of him was enough to let me fight through the pain of the light and keep them open. A soft sob escaped me once more.

His body was tense and readied for movement, white shirt soaked with sweat and grime and what looked like it had to be blood as he stood with his back to me, one arm outstretched back towards me in a silent gesture of comfort he didn’t even know if I would see. He could not reach me, nor did I think he intended to, but it offered me security nonetheless. His other hand sat easily on the hilt of his sword, resting sheathed on his hip as it always did during long trips outside the manor walls. Had he come directly to me upon his return home, not even taking the time to shed his outdoor cloak and sword, only to find me missing from my place in his chambers? I banished the thought from my head. That was unimportant at the moment. What mattered was that Helmut’s body served as a barrier of safety between me and the rest of the world. It gave me just enough courage to keep my eyes hooded, but open.

It took a moment to adjust to the darkness. While the torches in the hall still burned brightly, the great iron door blocked most of their glow from reaching my gaze. The light was just enough to focus in on the world beyond Helmut’s silhouette, letting me catch sight of the glint of a guard's sword appearing from the dark corner of the room before the Baron did.

What once was quiet chaos devolved into loud, maddening chaos from there.

I screamed. That was certain, even when all else was not. It was a dry, cracked, raw thing that escaped me as the hidden guard broke rank and lunged across the room. There was no humanity in his ice-cold eyes, not the slightest glimmer of anything besides bloodlust and pure self-preservation crossing his face, and yet somehow, despite all the time I had spent at the mercy of him and his companions, I held no fear for myself. Instead, the terror that wracked my body was for the man who stood between me and the sword.

Helmut was the only thing in the world that could keep me from an eternity of torment and his attacker knew that better than even I did at the moment. He intended to kill the man I loved, a treasonous act, in exchange for the safety of his own hide. If Helmut was bested… I couldn’t even fathom it. The moment stretched on endlessly, and yet there was no time to think about the sight I beheld. As the Baron took note of the man, he drew his own sword. I urged my own abused muscles forward, managing to almost drag myself across the few feet of space that separated me and my lord and his hand, still outstretched towards me; a beacon of reassurance. The moment my fingers brushed his, I collapsed, muscles spasming against the dirt. I had done my part. From there, I could do nothing but close my eyes once more and wait for the telltale metallic noises of swordplay.

They never came.

Helmut jolted before me, hard enough that even from my spot on the floor I couldn’t help but wince, and I heard the telltale swish of his blade leaving its sheath, feeling the wind in its wake on my teary face. Still, the terrible fight I anticipated didn’t rage on. I couldn’t hear any of the other guards present so much as breathe. I found myself utterly lost in the darkness. My cluelessness towards the current situation was almost worse than seeing Helmut skewered, at least in that moment as I reached out and grasped fistfuls of dirt, desperate to hold on to something real. Someone groaned a quick, pained breath, and then everything ceased to be.

Time stopped there for a while. Maybe it was only in the prison of my own mind, but it was as if the space between breaths had extended out into the infinite darkness and fear that consumed me whole. He couldn’t be dead. Even if he was, I couldn’t bear to check.

The moment was only broken when a familiar voice cut through the silence. “Shall I have him disposed of, my lord?”

My eyelids were heavy, but I forced them up and open as I released my fistfuls of dirt and dragged my face up to look towards the door only to find Oeznik had returned. With a bundle of linens in one hand and a bloodstained sword in the other, he stood flanked by some of the elder Baron’s personal guards. If looks could kill, the man who had attempted to take Helmut’s life would have been in a much more merciful situation, and the baron stood before you, triumphant.

His blade remained pressed into the man’s neck, keeping the poor bastard frozen mid-swing for fear that one wrong move would take off his head. All the while Helmut’s face remained hidden from my view. If his body language was anything to go by, it was taking all of his self-control not to slaughter the guard right then and there, but he remained as still as a statue, unreadable and cold, as I reached a trembling hand up to his still extended hand like a lifeline. He squeezed my cold fingers in his own comfortingly the moment we managed to touch.

“Just ensure that he doesn’t move from this cell,” Helmut replied, “None of them should,”

It was as if the great group of men gathered around the door forgot how to breathe. I, on the other hand, felt freer than I had in an eternity.

“Shall I lock the door behind us?” Oeznik inquired.

Despite his hidden face, I could hear the pure wickedness and vengeance in Helmut’s grin. “Yes, Oeznik, and station a few of our best men at the door. One of them may still have a key, and all would be for naught should they simply remove themselves from captivity,”

“Right away, my lord,”

It shouldn’t have surprised me when Helmut let go of my hand and finally shifted himself to regard me once more. Still, the look in his eyes made my heart feel although it could stop beating. He turned and knelt before me, taking my muddied face in his hands and brushing a thumb over my cheek. His touch was so tender I almost forgot to breathe, as though taking even a gulp of air would break the spell and plunge me back into reality. The light, remained, though, even as he sank to his knees to assist me.

“There's no need for us to tarry here any longer, schatzi. Come along now,”

An almost childlike, hysterical wonder flooded my senses as I tried to pull his cloak tighter to my body. The warmth was addictive. “We’re going? Together?”

“Yes darling, together,”

“But what if someone sees us? Baron, I can’t let them see you like this, especially with me in such a state. If someone from town were to see-“

Though his face betrayed none of his emotions, the ice-cold tone of Helmut’s voice was enough to send a shiver down my aching spine. “I will cross that bridge when I’m required to. Now come. You’ve spent far too much time in this dank hole already and I refuse to let you remain here for even a moment longer,”

I needed no more convincing than that to take the Baron’s hand as he helped me up on unsteady feet.

Standing again was a strange sensation, to say the least. It was as if I were a fawn taking my first steps across the damp forest floor in spring. Helmut kept me upright against his side and jumped into action the moment he was needed, bracing my body on his as my legs gave out time and time again in the steps toward the door. When the struggle became too great for him to bear watching, he wasted no time before sweeping an arm beneath my knees and cradling me to his chest, making sure to keep me wrapped securely in his mantle along the way. From there I could do little more than let the shock set in, drifting in and out of the present as he carried me away from the hell hole I had believed I would never leave again. All the while, a loose, pained smile crossed my bloody lips.

On the way up the steep, winding stairs, I faintly recalled hearing Helmut muttering to Oeznik, who remained a few paces ahead of you during the ascent like a buffer. The contents of their conversation eluded me. I could only assume they were speaking of what had transpired, but I couldn’t say with any certainty. Not with the way my mind seemed to be covered in a thick fog as soon as I let my eyes drift shut once more, tucked into the furs that surrounded me on all sides. The only certainty in the world became the steady thrumming of Helmut’s heart and the heady musk of travel clinging to his clothes and skin.

As the last of my lucidity faded, I opened my eyes one last time, only to be greeted by the warm light of dawn. It streamed down upon me in a million colors from the stained glass windows lining the hall. I had believed so truthfully that I would never see the sun again, and yet here I was, bathed in the glory of a new morning. A new day.

Everything became lost to time from there as my eyes drifted shut once more, still catching glimpses of colored light from behind my eyelids until I lost my grasp on the present.

#helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #daniel brühl #x reader #marvel fanfiction #falcon and winter solider series #technically there will be a part 2 to this but it'll take me a few days to edit it up

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violetmuses · 10 months

Text

Intertwined - Zemo (Chapter 1)

TITLE: “Intertwined” - Helmut Zemo (Detective AU)

FANDOM: Marvel (Modern AU)

CHARACTER: Helmut Zemo

MAIN PAIRING: Helmut Zemo + Female Reader

MAIN WARNINGS: Violence, strong language, adult content, dark themes, etc.

MAIN STORYLINE: When Zemo unexpectedly finds himself working in a new department, you change his world forever.

Author’s Note: Hi! My newest project is finally here. Please let me know what you think and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much for reading my work as always. - V. 💜

Tags: @tavners @norabrice1701 🏷

Intertwined - Masterlist 🔍

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

An alert pinged from his cell phone around three in the morning. Helmut could barely rustle out of bed without disrupting Heike, who slept right beside him.

“What?” she whispered, using accented English and hiding her bare chest with the duvet in one or another.

“Work.” Helmut rasps, angling one kiss towards her cheek for a moment.

“At least grab food or something on your way there.” Heike continues, hardly awake at this hour. Thank goodness for Karl, their son,still being of age for international boarding school and not close by with this chat.

Helmut nods, agreeing with his wife once more after slumping away from the warm covers and heading for another quick shower. There’s no other choice at a time like this.

___________

During that early morning, Novi Grad seems quiet. Too quiet now. Little vehicular traffic. Almost no pedestrians crowd the sidewalk. Helmut soon wonders if anyone had even entered the building at all.

Helmut was then proved wrong.

Countless policemen, fellow detecives, or others lined up and down corners of this precient.

A small but key lecturn stands up front and Helmut sits down in one of the last remaining seats, awaiting details.

Sunlight barely casts through bulletproof windows of this precicent, but Helmut continues drinking lukewarm tea from a local shop blocks away.

Meanwhile, The Chief of Police is barely awake himself, uniformed regarding the meeting. He would much rather sleep in and not make this announcement whatsoever.

Opting to speak through accented English, several interpreters stand nearby in the name of translation. There’s a melting pot of employees here, despite how small their department really is.

Helmut sits up in the chair and listens out for the Sokovian language, his native tongue.

This brand of emergency news is simple, yet devestating at the same time:

Transfers.

No warnings. No clues. Nothing can stop what had been revealed.

Helmut curses to himself, rasping through his native tongue as an eye roll faces the ceiling. Colleagues follow suit, reasonably pissed off. Everyone is handed airline tickets or given empty cardboard to gather belongings as needed.

______

Not even hours later, Heike is not pleased, equally cursing through their subsequent phone call. On the other hand, Helmut somehow travels this low-level Sokovian airport to leave home.

This new assignment prompts a stateside placement and he cannot risk moving family at the last minute, especially with Karl still enrolled in school.

“I will come back as soon as possible.” Helmut attempts to make that promise.

“Goodbye. I love you.” Despite their argument, Heike still bid farewell on the opposite line.

“And I love you.” Helmut ends that call, focusing on the next plan alone.

****

“What the hell?” You enter this precient and find manila on your desk, already pissed off before noon.

“Got no other choice, Detective. He’ll step through sooner than later.” Lieutenant warns you of a new partner, someone transfered from abroad.

“What’s going on, is he in for the long-haul?” You kept bringing up questions despite reading paperwork.

“Who knows?” The Sokovian police are struggling in his country. That nation’s located somewhere in the Balkans.” Lieutenant continues speaking.

As soon as the Lieutenant walks off, you roll both eyes.

Detective Helmut Zemo will arrive before long.

__________

You can’t even pour another cup of coffee when a text message signals your departure.

Time to go.

Wthin minutes, one non-descript car pulls towards that main curb, but you cringe internally based on the driver.

Your partner, Zemo, has already taken the front wheel.

Shit. You still open that passenger seat door and barely greet this man, giving him no other choice but to leave the department.

_________

As of late, you’ve only had silence throughout this drive. Even Helmut knows better than to turn on the radio.

“Let’s get this over with.” You face your partner at last, knowing damn-well that these next few hours won’t look rosy in the slightest.

Clean-shaven face. Perfect light-brown hair. Dark shoulder holsters now lock onto his own sweater, despite the future heat of this particular day.

Nearly amber eyes concentrate as Helmut Zemo drives towards that upcoming crime scene.

And yet, you know so much better than even slightly ogle. Every time your partner moves the steering wheel, his leftward finger shows off a gold wedding band.

______

That crime scene is nothing short of an absolute disaster. Yellow tape runs along the block as you enter this apartment building with Zemo. Before long, neighbors have recounted what happened: A summer party went downhill.

“I’m not talking to Mr. Posh.” One tenant, James, snips through his New York accent and gestures towards Zemo.

“Fine. What else do you know?” You adjust, taking notes as James furrows his brow. His leftward prosthetic, an arm replacement crafted from metal, gleams in this living room.

“One minute, they’re enjoying that party with loud music, but then bullets start flying. That’s all I’ve got.” James licks his lips, watching you with steel blue eyes.

“Thank you, James.” You stand from the nearest chair and say goodbye, not even allowing Zemo to give his own questioning.

“Bucky.” James offered his nickname across the room as you stood in the doorway.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You clear yourself, corrected.

You leave Bucky’s apartment beside Zemo. There are far more questions than answers.

__________

“The victim seemed young, probably fresh out of college during the summer.” You say, slyly eating in the car after picking food up.

“This event was not spontaneous.” Zemo chimes in, not eating too fast meanwhile.

“How could you tell?” You squint.

“The main shot was taken at point blank range. Typically, average civilians would never know that kind of accuracy.” Zemo says, recalling his own experience in the military as a Colonel before earning Honorable Discharge.

“Targeted victim?” You probe, attempting to stand on the same wavelength.

“Or perhaps someone that they knew.” Zemo’s accented English rasps again and wheels start turning in your head.

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sebstan2020 · 3 months

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A Slave For You

Chapter 2

Leila's life was very normal. She had everything she wanted, a nice house, car, and all the money she could ever ask for. She was a rich girl and lived her life doing nothing but shopping and spending money. However her life changed when on her way home from a night out she was kidnapped by human traffickers and sent to the slave market in New York City where she finds herself being brought by one of the most dangerous mob bosses of Brooklyn, James Buchanan Barnes

James stepped out of the sleek black Mercedes, polished to perfection with a shine like no other. Not an inch of dirt or dust could be found on the exterior, and the gentle roar it gave made everyone’s heads turn to get a look at the expensive automobile. He was greeted instantly by a man dressed in a clean suit, taking the keys into leather coated hands and left it in his hands to go and park. He reached for the button of his jacket, pulling the two sides together and connecting them, finishing off his fitted outfit. He was dressed in tight black dress pants with a double breasted jacket on top of a thin black turtleneck, keeping him warm and holding his Cologne well. It had a rich scent to it, like pine and mint.

His dress shoes clacked on the ground as he entered from the front door, giving a nod of thanks to the doorman as he stepped into the quiet entryway. There was a man sat in a plush chair, one leg lazily over the other, as he stared at the bright screen on his phone, as if he were waiting for something, and he gave a silent nod to him, receiving one back before waiting at the desk. He was surprised it was quiet tonight and had expected to see many here. But it was a Wednesday night, and the busiest nights were always Friday to Sunday.

The plush Burgundy carpet added a certain darkness to the reception with the dark walls and furniture. There was a sweet smell in the air, like lavender, and warmth from the small radiators dotted around. He leaned against the reception desk, folding his hands together as his patience was wearing thin. He had been called to meet and the guy wasn’t even here to greet him.

Finally, the man he was expecting to see burst through the door. Helmut Zemo, or better yet, Baron Helmut Zemo, walked through into the reception area, dressed in a smart suit of dark grey with a white shirt and dark blue tie. His hair was styled and combed back, revealing his clean-shaven face and deadly smirk. He noticed James and gave him a look before quickly attending to the waiting man, whose patience were also wearing off.

“My apologies; we had some trouble with the packing. The boys are just getting it into your van, and you’ll be ready to go. My secretary has sent you all the details,” he smiled as the man stood, a smile reaching his face on his lips as he shoved his phone into his pocket and took Zemo’s hand, shaking it hard.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Zemo,” he said before leaving through the front door. Zemo turned his attention to James, offering him a warm welcome with open arms.

“James, glad you could come,” he smiled as James pushed himself off the desk to join him, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was much less welcoming than Zemo, giving him a cold shoulder and a slight glare.

“This better be good, Zemo,” he warned. He was a busy man and had just about made time for this out of his busy schedule. The boys were out tonight, attending to some business with some punk kid trying to fuck them over. James was quite looking forward to punching the shit out of him for trying to get away with not paying him back, but Zemo was insistent that he come tonight. He could come on any night but he wondered why tonight was so special. It wasn’t like he wasn’t planning on coming anytime soon but things had just distracted him.

"Oh, it is. I have some beautiful new stock for you that I think you’re going to like. I called you down tonight because I didn’t want you to miss out,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as if they were best pals. It was kind of him to consider James having first picks before everyone else considering he was his best customer.

“Are you sure? After the last girl you sold me, I’m not sure I can trust your word,” James hinted, raising a brow. Oh yes, May, the last girl James had brought from Zemo hadn’t turned out to be who he thought it was. Zemo was insistent; she was very obedient, and from first glance, she seemed perfect for James—just what he was looking for. But the minute she was home, she was a nightmare. It was a constant battle for freedom until James had had enough. It is safe to say that she was no longer here and was probably the best thing, he doubted that anyone would want to repurchase after the experience he had with her.

"Granted, that may have been my fault last time, and I apologised for that, but this time I promise you are going to be happy." Zemo was certain, and James chuckled softly. He didn’t entirely believe Zemo, but he had to admit that he knew when he had good stock.

Zemo led him to the two grand doors being watched over by the bodyguards. Their faces were lifeless, concealed with dark sunglasses, and their hands were held tightly in front of them. They didn’t move or speak as Zemo shoved open the door, revealing the grand hall. You couldn’t make this shit up. Down the sides of the hall were cages upon cages of young girls, tightly huddled inside the metal bars, clutching on for dear life, shivering with fear; some passed out, and some obediently waited for something or someone. They were all beautiful, some tall, some small, some with blonde hair, some with dark hair, some with green eyes, some with blue eyes, some with curves, and some without. It was endless.

It was no joke that Baron Helmut Zemo was the biggest slave trader in New York. Setting up his business from a small barn to a great big hall was his biggest achievement, and he had people from all around the world coming and purchasing the many girls he had listed in his market. He had built himself a name and an empire. He had girls from all over the states, some of whom were as young as eighteen. He wasn’t that sick of a fuck to go below the legal age; if a customer was into that sort of thing, they would have to source it themselves. But he had worked hard to bring the most beautiful girls into his market to sell for a high price.

James was an old friend of his and a great customer. His stock wasn’t just for permanent ownership but provided a one-night service, or however many days the customer asked for. James had brought his first girl from Zemo many years ago and had continued to use his service over the many years he had built his own empire. Taking over the family business was a big responsibility and tiring at that, so he needed a little relaxation here and there. He didn’t have time to cook or keep his mansion clean, and the boys certainly wouldn’t do anything of the sort, so he inquired about a slave, someone to do the dirty jobs he couldn’t be bothered to do. It was perfect, really. However, he hadn’t quite found the right girl. The previous ones were fine for a while until they became either too lazy or disobedient that he became bored and either took them back to the market for repurchase or made do with them himself.

It had been a couple months since May, and he was in desperate need of a new slave. Looking down at the rows of girls huddled in their cages brought back the excitement in him about choosing which one to buy. At the front of the lines, the girls were the cheapest, ranging from a few grand to slowly getting higher in price. How Zemo did his pricing, he didn’t know, but he assumed it was based on looks, attitude, and obedience. The most obedient were more expensive, and the least obedient were the cheapest, probably because the owner would have a lot of work to do.

“I had a delivery come in a week ago and couldn’t resist calling you up to see if there were any you liked. I know it’s been a while since you’ve had a slave,” he said.

“I’ve been busy; I haven't had the chance to come down here and take a look. But you’re right, I am in need of a new slave,” he smirked.

"Well, please, go ahead and pick.” Zemo fell silent as James took a good look at the girls. A couple caught his attention, and he had a quick glance over before moving on. Each girl had a name written on top of the cage, and they were all dressed in the same black dress, silky with tiny straps that just reached their thighs, bare feet, and a metal collar around their necks. So far, nothing was really taking his interest, and he was about to turn around and head out until he reached further down the line and stopped in front of one particular cage.

The girl inside was stunning, with long blonde hair that had fallen flat with bangs covering her eyes. Her dazzling green eyes were very noticeable, and her plump lips were cracked and parted, revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth. Her body was thin, but she had huge tits and a perfectly shaped ass. She was slightly huddled in the corner, looking very uncomfortable in the cage, and she almost pushed herself further up as if trying to get away from his intense stare, but there was nowhere to run.

James took a good look at her, taking in her beauty despite the conditions she was in, and took a step forward. He glanced over the name on the cage, and the corner of his lip lifted slightly.

Leila

“Oh yes, her; she came in last week. All the way from Beverly Hills. A pretty one and a rich one. Her mother and father are well off,” Zemo said, coming up from behind James. James was silent as he stared down at her. She was gorgeous, and all sorts of images roamed in his head of having her as his slave. Even the thought of a rich girl with a privileged family now becoming a slave to the biggest mob boss of New York had his dick harden underneath his pants, and his smirk grew wider. Zemo didn’t even have to sell it to him; he knew he was going to purchase her.

“I can have her ready for you to take home tonight,” he tempted, and James stared down at the price. $8000. The price didn’t mean much to him; he could afford anything he wanted, and the temptation was growing.

"Deal,” James said softly, turning and shaking Zemo’s hand, who grinned like a kid on Christmas.

"Perfect, I’ll get her ready for you; let’s go to my office and have the paperwork all written out,” he said, wrapping his arm around James back while snapping his fingers at the guards.

Leila didn’t know what to think. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her stomach sick with a feeling of tightness, and she gripped the cage bars as if she didn’t want to leave. A week here had been hell enough, but she dreaded the day someone came in here and brought her for slavery. She watched all the girls being sold one by one every day, watching as they kicked and screamed and begged not to be taken away from the little cage of safetyness they had to end up in what could be more hell for them.

Although she had only been here a week, she had become rather friendly with the girl next to her, Casey. She had been here a little while longer than Leila, and they were the only safe thing the girls had. They slept with their hands folded in each other, curled up like dogs in their cages, while they sat in fear watching sleazy men come in and pick a girl and buy her. The worst was when fat old men came in, wanting a quick fuck with them, and then sent them back in the cage for another week.

Leila wasn’t sure what she would prefer. She wouldn’t like any of it, but being used as a sex toy sounded worse than living as a slave. As she sat huddled in the cage, watching as Zemo, the strangest person she had ever met showed off his stock of girls to the handsome man beside him, urging him to pick one to buy. She prayed he would slip right past her and not even take a look. But her hopes had shattered when he stopped directly in front of her and took a good, long look at her, and she knew it was game over.

She was slightly relieved, though. Having seen the other men who had come to Zemo’s establishment, they were ugly, sickening, disgusting men who looked like they enjoyed watching girls suffer, and she was thankful they barely even looked at her. But this man was nothing like the others. Quiet, handsome, and mysterious. He had a certain dominance about him—the way he walked with his head held high and dark eyes looming over the scared girls, the way his lips turned into a sexy smirk at the sight of her, and his smooth voice laced with lust.

He looked like a man of power and money, and nothing sounded too expensive for him to buy. But the moment she heard the words deal leave his lips, she panicked and realised this wasn’t a nightmare but reality.

As the two men headed off to the office, the guards made their way to her cage.

“Leila” Casey whimpered, grabbing hold of her hand. Leila gave her a squeeze and gave her a hard look. She didn’t want her to leave. They were the only thing they had, and with her gone, who was she going to have to comfort her?

“It’s okay…” She didn’t have a chance to say anything else before she was being dragged from the cage onto the cold floor. She yelped as the guards roughly forced her into the ground, the clink of handcuffs forced onto her wrists with a large chain between them, and she was yanked up, being dragged across.

“Please, please don't,” she begged, her feet scraping across the floor. Her once-perfectly manicured nails had returned to bare, stubby nails, her toes being the only thing that reminded her of her lavished life. The girls watched in fear with wide eyes as Leila was dragged off, and they hung their heads in silence for her, something they all did when a girl was brought.

She held herself together, trying not to cry as she was forced into a large office-type room, thrown to the ground with a thud, and groaned as the hard carpet burned her elbow on contact. A rough grab of her hands, and the chain between the cuffs was locked to a small ring on the floor. The guards left without a word, and she whimpered softly, her breath shaky. The office was much more lush and clean than the dreaded hall of stock. A large oak desk was across from her with two chairs. Filing cabinets upon cabinets lined a wall, and there was a leather sofa and chair behind her with a polished coffee table. She imagined the other girls were taken here, but she wondered why.

Then her thoughts were answered. The door opened with a thud, and Zemo and the tall man walked inside. Zemo was carrying a stack of papers, a slight hum to his voice as he made his way to the table, and Leila watched intently as the handsome man who was buying her looked down at her as he passed her closely, a smirk on his lips, and made his way to the desk. Leila tugged at the cuffs as if she were trying to get away, but there was no point in trying. The metal dug into her wrists, and she watched with silent breaths.

Zemo and the man sat down at the desk, watching as Zemo flicked through the stacks of paper and handed one to the man to sign.

“Just sign on the dotted line, James; you know the procedure,” he shrugged, and James pulled the cap of the pen, gliding the pen across the smooth paper. So James was her buyer's name. But Leila was so confused by this paperwork. Surely this wasn’t legal.

“I’ll just need the check for the eight grand, and I’ll have my guards pack her up,” he said. Pack her up, as if she were some sort of delicate parcel to be delivered.

“No, please, please don't." Leila couldn’t hold it in any longer, fighting against the cuffs, her voice breaking with her pleas. She didn’t want this; she didn’t want to go home with this James man, who could be the most sadistic person she’d ever meet. It was as if they couldn’t hear her, and James carried on signing the documents. The rattle of chains caught his attention, but he didn’t look over. The scratch of the pen became louder, and the sound of paper flicking over to the next page made Leila’s heart sink as he reached closer to the end. Once everything was signed, it would be official.

Zemo sat in a happy world, pleased with the papers, while James reached for his check book and signed one for eight grand. Was that what she was worth—eight grand?

The check was snatched from the book and handed over delicately to Zemo, who grinned as he took it, his eyes widening at the amount of money, and he hummed in delight.

“Perfect… How would you like to take her home?” He asked, and James looked over at Leila, turning his lips up in a pout.

“Can you deliver her? I don’t have room in the car,” he asked.

“Certainly, my men can follow you home. I’ll have them get her ready; why don’t you wait in the front room?” Zemo said as they stood, chairs scraping. Leila softly cried to herself, shaking the chains as if she were having a temper tantrum, and she hung her head down.

She felt them walk past her, and she had the urge to kick him in the shin or back of the knee and send him down. But that would only mean bad things for her. But what she hadn’t expected was to feel the soft hand of the man who had signed a check for her reach under and take her jaw in his hand, lifting her head up for him to see those pretty eyes of hers. His thumb swiped her soaked cheek from her tears. There was a coldness burning into her chin from the ring adorning his thumb, and she sniffled away a cry, threatening to escape. He offered her a small smile before dropping his hand and walking away with Zemo, leaving Leila in a world of confusion and fear.

Chapter 3

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

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#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #dom bucky barnes #mob boss bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes

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