#dark!baron zemo smut

[mypoisonedvine]

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.

[addict-rat]

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

[violetmuses]

Between The Lines - Zemo (18+ MINORS DNI)

TITLE: “Between The Lines” - Helmut Zemo (18+ MINORS DNI)

FANDOM: Marvel’s “Falcon and The Winter Soldier” 

CHARACTER: Helmut Zemo 

MAIN PAIRING: Helmut Zemo + Female Reader 

MAIN STORYLINE: What happens in Madripoor…. 

Author’s Note: Hey! As a warning, this One Shot includes SMUT content. (18+ Minors DNI) Adult themes, strong language, etc. Thanks so much for reading and feedback would be greatly appreciated. - V. 💜

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

2024

Despite staying in character at the Brass Monkey Saloon, Zemo notices you walking right past him. He and Sam take shots. 

Meanwhile, James steels his expression through his former Winter Soldier mode. All men should continue blending in here. 

“Who is that?” Zemo questions the bartender, rasping his voice. 

“Oh? You saw her.” The bartender peers over his glasses through dim lighting found overhead. “Wait one second.” 

“Of course.” Zemo agrees. Sam narrows his eyes for a moment, but knows so much better than to blow everyone’s cover right now. James remains silent, not once speaking up. 

The bartender walks elsewhere to handle whatever business and Zemo takes a quick breath, slyly noting your stance found across the room. 

You wore this shapely dress and turned heads without fail. If not for the gravity of this mission, Zemo would’ve surely made a move.

Only minutes later, the bartender returns to his post and nods, gesturing as if to give permission. 

“Go ahead.” The bartender says. 

“Thank you.” Zemo nods at the man once more, prompting James and Sam to follow him. 

________

“Looking for me?” You say, playing up another femme fatale role and immediately recognizing Zemo’s presence. 

“Very much so.” Zemo nearly purrs, stepping up with nothing short of danger lurking through his entire body. 

All in all, Helmut Zemo spent far too much time rotting in prison alone. If given proper consent, he would destroy you in the best way possible. 

“Is there anything that I could help with before all of you visit Selby?” You step closer to Zemo and dare to run your palm along his clothed chest. 

“Well…” Zemo nearly struggles to breathe now, fighting an incredible urge to break character.

His known brown eyes scope you up and down. Eight long years of isolation, lust, or pent-up chaos start to rattle from within. 

Flashing possibilities slap him in the face. 

Through echoes of his racing mind, he can hear you almost screaming out loud in the name of pleasure. During sex, you could be nude and give him full permission to touch your beautiful skin. 

In reality, perfume wafts towards his nostrils, trapping him as you bite your lip and curl your manicured nail to smooth his bare chin. 

“Lost for words?” You tease again. 

No. I want you. Zemo truthfully thinks to himself. 

“No, but I will return.” Zemo reaches out and kisses your knuckle, leaving to focus on the mission before it’s too late. 

__________

You’re cornered in the midst of gunfire. Just moments earlier, this large bounty chimed through your phone as soon as Selby hit that carpeted floor, dead on sight. 

A back alley veils you in the shade of night as one gloved hand covers your mouth. 

Zemo. 

“Do…not…speak…” His accented English leaves the ultimate warning and you find your own back scratching up against dirtied brick walls. 

His belt buckle jingles like music of war and scorching lust reaches those brown eyes in the dark. Even then, you can’t respond, still muffled by the leather that dressed his manipulative fingers. 

Salted coastal of the island, breezes towards your body, leaving you with quite a shocking realization: 

Somehow, this man took off your panties and now the core is exposed for his delight. 

“Go.” Your head nods obediently, giving absolute consent for an intelligent monster to defile you. 

Because he will complete his goal at last, and thereby return to prison before long, he might as well “enjoy” this moment with you. 

Sam and James do not matter. Not right now. 

Bare for obvious reasons, Zemo lines up your soaking entrance. Your core weeps through adrenaline. The violence has blurred and you find yourself aching, needing him right away. 

Moments later, Helmut plunges into you, almost hissing because of how tight and warm everything feels. 

With his upper body still clothed, Zemo set his maroon sweater up against the top of your dress and still covers your whimpering mouth.  

“Don’t…give me…away…” His Sokovian accent worsens, rasping as if to growl when you almost cry in the name of ecstasy. Another warning. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice mewls in the smallest tone possible. In truth, you can’t reveal his location, no matter how good he feels while thrusting over and over again. 

Some pristine and light-brown hair rustles out of place, leaving curls to fall around his slightly pale forehead. 

He even doesn’t give you  an immediate alert when cum warms the naked space found between you both. There’s no other choice. 

Yet, he’s calm enough to pull out of your core, finally making you hollow. 

lWithin seconds, Zemo, an international terrorist and the former Baron of Sokovia, caresses your face, gently placing his sweating forehead against yours. 

“Goodbye,” His breathing shallows. Before long, he leans inward and kisses your cheek, cornering elsewhere to fix his clothes and run off. 

Now, you’re alone once more, facing the rest of tonight without him. 

#smut warning #violence tw #tw dark content #tw dark themes #adult themes #strong language #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #18+ only #minors dni #minors do not interact

[nocapesdahling]

Life Eternal

Helmut Zemo x F! Reader

My Masterlist

Prequel to Cousin Helmut (Can be read as a stand-alone)

Summary: Helmut Zemo is an Addams. When an Addams falls in love, they fall fast and they fall hard. After the loss of his Heike, he never thought he would love again. Until he saw you.

Rating: M (18+, Minors DNI please)

Warnings/Tags: Smut - Unprotected piv sex; Implied sexual content; Crossover; Darker Zemo; Darker Reader; These two are made for each other; Artist! Reader;  Canon-typical Addams Family elements, such as casual discussions of and attitudes towards murder, violence, and poison; Macabre; Possessive Behavior; Love at first sight; Implied Dom/Sub; Implied breeding kink; One mention of exhibitionism; Brief mention of bondage; Some references to polyamory; Slight Canon divergence

Word Count: 9.1k

A/N: It only took a year, but it’s finally time for the long-promised Cousin Helmut prequel. This is officially my longest one shot I’ve posted, which I’m rather proud of and I really hope you enjoy. Have a very happy Halloween!

Being in prison had given Helmut a lot of time to think and to remember. He didn’t have much choice. He was alone with his thoughts and there wasn’t much else to do in solitary confinement, besides working out, sleeping, or reading books and newspapers, so he spent his time reminiscing.

One of his first childhood memories was of his mother. They were sitting eating breakfast, which Oeznik brought them — Oeznik had been his mother’s companion for as long as Helmut could remember and he had always looked the same. 

Helmut watched her add something, which he later realized was arsenic that morning though sometimes she favored cyanide instead, to her tea, stir it, and breathe it in with contentment. His mother’s dark red lips curved into a small smile that contrasted with her dark hair and black dress. His father was out of town that weekend, so she was wearing her favorite hemlock berry lipstick that she said made her lips tingle. She only wore it when his father was traveling because it was too strong of a poison for his resistance levels and his father could never resist kissing his mother, poison lipstick or not, so there would have been some unfortunate trips to the hospital.  

Helmut was a child and wanted to do everything his parents did, especially his mother, so he asked for some for his juice. His mother laughed, her chuckle low and mesmerizing, before smiling at him.

“Oh, my Helmut. You are not ready for arsenic yet. I’ve only just started you on corn cockle, my little monster. We have to work our way up to arsenic, cyanide, and belladonna. Now drink your juice, and we will learn more about the Plague. We’ve reached the picture portion of the lesson, isn’t that exciting?”

He smiled and eagerly drank his juice. He loved his mother’s lessons. It was only later in life that he realized most children were not served poison by their parents and that most mothers did not teach their children about the Plague, about wounds, or how to use all manner of weapons before they reached the age of 10. Fencing and swordplay were always his favorite, and he enjoyed practicing with his Uncle Gomez whenever he and his Aunt Morticia came to visit.  However, his mother was not a typical mother. She was an Addams and that made all the difference.

Helmut Zemo was only half Addams and it was a well-kept secret in Sokovia. The Addams Family had a bit of a reputation throughout Europe, and his mother had wanted him to keep his heritage hidden as something of a trump card. 

His father was a normal man and a Baron of Sokovia, who fell in love with a beautiful woman that he met at his parents’ funeral. As his mother told it, she had been on vacation and after visiting some family buried in the graveyard and having a lovely séance, she had seen the funeral and decided to attend. She loved funerals and didn’t want to miss what looked like a delightfully unhappy one. As his father told it, even if she had been uninvited, she had bewitched him at first sight. He had fallen madly in love and asked her to marry him within weeks. To the surprise of the rest of the Addams clan, she accepted and Helmut was born a few years later.

Looking back, his childhood had been idyllic, full of mayhem and his mother’s lessons in how to be an Addams. He only wished there had been more murder involved. He excelled at his mother’s lessons and wanted to put them into action, so when it came time to choose a career, he chose the military without a second thought. It was expected of him as a Baron’s son to serve in some capacity, but he went outside the norm and chose to join a covert kill squad after training. It let him indulge his Addams’s side in the best ways. The danger excited him, giving him a thrill when he almost died and even more so when he killed. He enjoyed what he did, relishing in the thrill of the hunt and the joy of leaving no survivors.

Then, he met Heike. She was a doctor at the hospital, where he brought an injured member of his squad, and when he met her she was covered in blood. It appealed to his baser instincts with the smear on her cheek being particularly lovely in contrast to her eyes. She had been and still was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. While Helmut’s last name might have been Zemo, he was an Addams through and through; when an Addams fell in love, they fell hard and they fell fast and he was no different.

He still chuckled to himself when he thought of Heike’s reaction to his gifts of flowers after they started dating. It took him a while to realize that she wanted roses with flowers still attached. His mother had always cut the blooms off and Helmut preferred them that way too. The thorns were the best and most dangerous part of a rose after all. Yet just as his father had learned to gift his mother bouquets of poison plants, Helmut learned to gift Heike bouquets of actual flowers.

They married within the year and Carl followed soon after. It was quickly apparent to Helmut that Carl was normal. He had not inherited the Addams constitution, traits, or ability to cheat death, so for the sake of his son he reined in his Addams side and played at being a normal man, a normal father. And he was good at it, even as it chafed at him. His mother had prepared him for this too. He always excelled in his childhood acting lessons. If he wished sometimes that he could go commit a nice murder, then he stopped himself with the thought that Heike needed him. That Carl needed him.

Then, they died along with his father. They went where he could not follow, at least not yet. His mother had been on a “trip” at the time, hunting down a serial killer, so she was not there to protect them. To save them. He knew that he had only survived Sokovia because he was an Addams and that his family did not have that benefit. Oh, how he wished they had.

He called his mother with the news, knowing that she would help him in what he had resolved to do, and let his facade disappear. It was time to let his Addams side out to play again, the side that relished violence and was good at it — the one that would help him get his revenge, no matter the cost. Hiding did not matter anymore, not when you lost practically everyone you cared about all at once.

His mother helped him with his plans, which came to fruition in exactly the way he hoped. Well, besides his death of course. He had been ready to die, ready to join Heike six feet under in a matching coffin. He wanted to rot next to her for all eternity, but he would face the keen torment of living for a while longer it seemed, biding his time in prison.

He had a visitor today. It had been so long and as he opened his eyes and caught sight of the Winter Soldier, he smiled a devilish grin that he hid using the shadows and began to speak. Longing…

His escape from jail was exhilarating . It was nice to stretch his legs again and engage in some casual violence, though the guard had barely put up a fight. How disappointing. He wondered what his Uncles would make of it. After all, he hadn’t had to kill anyone or set off any explosions. He left the guard alive to avoid suspicion and to curtail the scale of the manhunt for him, and he had a feeling that Uncle Fester would deduct points for that.

It was a pleasure to see Oeznik again, looking the same as the last time he had seen him. Helmut had never asked Oeznik what he was because it wasn’t his business, though he had ruled out whatever Lurch was. Oeznik had served his mother and now Helmut faithfully for many years and he knew that he would continue to do so for many more, so what did it matter?

----

Ah, Madripoor. He had missed it, the people, the lights, and most of all the aura of danger that permeated the air. This was his kind of place. He only wished that they had been there for pleasure and not on a mission. Surely, there were plenty of people here that no one would miss. Oh well, he would do what was necessary. Having any additional fun would draw both Sam and James’s suspicions.

Sharon Carter and her stately residence had been a surprise, but now that they were here he was determined to enjoy the party. It had been too long. Prison had kept him from his vices, and now it was time to indulge.

He surveyed the room from the bar, feeling the presence of James and Sam alongside him. He would start with a drink, then maybe a dance. If he were lucky, then he’d get to use the knife he’d pilfered from the plane. He had plenty of practice blending in and even as every fiber of him wanted to cause “trouble”, he would resist it. Somewhat. A little trouble wouldn’t hurt anyone. Much. His mother had chosen his middle name of Tribulatio for a reason.

But then as he glanced towards the artwork, Helmut Zemo spotted you and froze. He never thought he would feel this way again, not after Heike, but there you were in all your glory and beauty and he fell. He fell as an Addams did — hard, fast, and with no regrets.

He began to approach you and as his Uncle Gomez’s words ran through his mind on how to woo a woman, his walk turned into more of a prowl and people unconsciously got out of his way — scattering like prey in the presence of a predator.

You hadn’t wanted to attend this party but Sharon Carter, one of your few friends in Madripoor, had insisted. She thought that you spent too much time working and not enough time having fun, so here you were.  You would rather have been home, preparing for the week ahead or painting, but you figured that since you were here that you might as well admire the artwork. Your attention had been drawn by one of your favorite paintings, Artemisia Gentilischi’s Judith Beheading Holofernes, which was supposed to be in The Uffizi at the moment. The music and the other guests had faded away as you stood entranced by the painting and its use of chiaroscuro.

You almost jumped when you heard an accented voice speak close to you, “A beautiful painting, isn’t it?”

You turned your head to look at the man next to you, only to stop short. He was more handsome than you’d expected him to be and now that you were looking at him you couldn’t seem to stop, taking in the details of his clothes and the angles of his face until you met his amused eyes. He smirked at you, having noticed your appraisal, and tilted his head towards the painting.

You cleared your throat. “Yes, I’ve always thought so, though I don’t find many others who do. Many find it too gory for their tastes.”

He turned his face away from you to look at the painting, giving you a view of his profile, which was just as handsome as the rest of him. You wished you had your sketchpad with you in order to capture this man and his features. You hadn’t felt this inspired in ages.

“I find the moment that the artist has captured and the way she has depicted the women compelling. They are front and center, determined, strong, and in control. They have chosen to do this deed and are unafraid of getting bloody while doing so. They are powerful.” His voice seemed to linger over the word bloody.

You nodded along, listening to him voice what you had always thought out loud. “Exactly. You do not find it frightening? It was considered so for its time.”

He turned back to look at you, stopping his scrutiny of the painting, and smiled with a small upturn of his lips. “It is often the so-called horrors of life that are the most arresting. It is a beautifully depicted scene, but not as beautiful or bewitching as you.”

“As me?” Your voice showed the surprise you felt.

“I found myself enchanted by you from across the room and knew I had to approach you. That I would not rest until I had.” He stepped a bit closer to you as he spoke and you enjoyed his increasing proximity.

You stared at the man in shock. If this had been anyone else, then you would have found his comments and closeness a bit creepy. Yet for some reason, you didn’t. You found him as compelling as he apparently found you.

“I find you handsome as well. Striking. It’s been difficult to keep my eyes off you.” Your voice was hesitant as you spoke because you weren’t sure how he would take that. This was new territory for you and not at all what you had expected for tonight.

“Perfect. Then, you feel it too.” He smiled and stepped closer, while reaching out a hand. “Would you dance with me, draga?”

You placed your hand in his and were unsurprised to feel slight gun calluses. This was Madripoor after all. You could tell that he either wore gloves while handling a gun or it had been some time. You knew you were one of the few, who didn’t have them, at least not from a gun. Knives left different calluses. You had refined your skills with a knife after arriving in Madripoor. The streets were dangerous and you needed a way to protect yourself that was more dangerous than attempting to stab someone with a paintbrush. In your old life, you never would have considered that you would enjoy the feeling of a knife in your hand so much.

“Ah, but before we do, I have gotten ahead of myself. I am Helmut Zemo, my beauty. And you are?”

You were embarrassed to think that you hadn’t even thought about exchanging names, too consumed by his presence. You gave him yours and enjoyed the way it sounded in his voice as he repeated it.

“Now, we may proceed.” Helmut was smirking as he gestured towards the dancing crowd and he seemed to relish in your laugh.

You walked hand and hand to the dance floor, where he proceeded to make you laugh harder than you had in a long time with his moves. He then pulled you into what you vaguely recognized as a waltz without a care that it didn’t match the music and was causing the people around you to stop and stare. He was going to be Trouble. You followed his lead and forgot about everything else.

After you danced, you walked the gallery together, looking at the paintings and talking about anything and everything. None of the paintings prompted a similar amount of attention from either of you as Judith Beheading Holofernes, but that was to be expected. Nothing was as arresting, when your attention was fully devoted to Helmut and his to you.

As he watched you smile at him, Helmut spoke to you about what he had done to avenge his family, watching your face change to a serious and thoughtful expression. He wanted you to go into this with your eyes open. He also wanted to impress you, even if most people would not have been impressed by murder and arson, but he couldn’t help but want to show off. He knew the Addams side of his family would have been impressed.

He expected you to be horrified as any normal person would be. He was prepared for you to run from him. As though he would let you. He did not expect the look of intrigue that came over your face. It was not difficult to read and he wanted to see that expression directed at him again. He told you why he did it of course — about Sokovia, Carl, and Heike — and you understood and admired his resolve. He had done it for love and he had succeeded. What was more attractive than a competent man, who would do anything for his loved ones? What would he do for you if you were counted among their number?

You told him more about you and how you ended up in Madripoor. It had been because you had no choice, not really. Due to the Blip, you had nowhere else to go and you felt like you needed to be there because that was where the real art was. It was how you’d become friends with Sharon, visiting her gallery and falling into conversations with her about the different pieces. Yet something else about Madripoor had drawn you in and once you were in its claws, you couldn’t have escaped even if you wanted to. Which you hadn’t.

Helmut devoted his full attention to you, admiring the way your eyes lit up while discussing the art and your fascination with the city before responding.  “I understand the appeal of a city like Madripoor. I do. The savagery is beautiful here. People are in touch with their base natures in a way that I find compelling.” Here Helmut paused and grasped both your hands in his and looked deep into your eyes. It almost felt like he had hypnotized you with both his eyes and his voice. It wasn’t hypnosis per se, but his mother had taught him a few skills to gain and keep someone’s attention that he’d never forgotten. “But would you leave here? Would you come with me?”

“Come with you? We’ve only just met, Helmut. I don’t…” You lost your train of thought as you looked at him. It didn’t feel like you’d only just met. It felt like you had known each other for lifetimes.

“My beloved, does that matter? You know me and I know you. I do not want another.” Here he paused and pulled you closer, your breasts pressing against his chest. You wondered if he could feel your nipples through your dress, and had conflicting desires where you both hoped he couldn’t and that he could. That he would touch you there in front of everyone. In ways you had never let anyone else do in public. There was no room for self-consciousness, not with a man like Helmut. Everything he did seemed to arouse and attract you. Like a true apex predator.  

He swayed the two of you to music he must have been hearing in his own head and whispered in your ear — his voice rough and deep, “I have been yours since I first saw you across the room, admiring one of my favorite paintings. I do not know what spell you have cast over me, but I belong to you now. Are you mine?”

You pulled back slightly to scrutinize him. You ran your eyes over his attire and his body then finally his face, meeting his deep brown eyes.

What did you know about this man, really? That he was handsome and that you could listen to his voice for hours. That he had killed before and was likely to do so again. You only knew what he had told you since you met, but you couldn’t imagine never seeing him again. Something told you that you had found a kindred spirit. A man who wouldn’t shy away from your skills with a knife or your more gruesome paintings — you wondered what he would think of the ones where you used some rather unconventional pigments. A man that you wouldn’t mind belonging to as long as he was yours in return. He had already assured you with his words and actions that he was, and you in turn wanted to be his. And his alone.

While you deliberated, he continued to watch you patiently.

“Yes, my villain. I am yours.” The nickname had come out without thought, but it seemed fitting.

His face looked exultant for a moment, almost mad with ecstasy before he hid whatever that had been back behind his calm mask. It would have made anyone else have doubts and regrets for their decision, but you — it only made you more enthralled by him.

“My love.” He leaned in and kissed you passionately in a way that made you feel like he was trying to devour you, to consume you. And you wanted to do the same to him as you reciprocated and lost yourself in the kiss. It could have gone on for hours, the outside world with its loud music and party goers having faded away, when you heard a throat clear awkwardly behind you.

“Zemo. Zemo. Zemo!” The voice sounded impatient.

As Helmut pulled away from you with reluctance, even as you tried to pull him back, you wondered how long the man had been trying to get his attention. For all you knew, it could have been hours. Even after that one kiss, you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life kissing Helmut Zemo. You didn’t want to let him go. Ever.

He kept his hand in yours as he turned you both to face the other man, who stood behind him with a look of both impatience and confusion on his face. He caught your scrutiny and gave you an awkward smile, even as you caught the veiled suspicion in his eyes.  You smiled back and gave him a casual little wave, acting as though you hadn’t been caught kissing an escaped convict.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” He didn’t sound that sorry, but he stepped closer and stuck out a hand. “I’m Sam.”

You shook it and told him your name, and watched as Sam lost his smile when he turned to Helmut. “Zemo, we have to go. Sharon found who we were looking for.”

Helmut nodded, though he was sure that he looked somewhat exasperated as he willed you to stay in front of his body for a few more moments while he calmed himself down. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“You better not take too long, Zemo.” Sam’s tone was full of warning as he addressed Helmut before he turned to you and smiled again, even as confusion on why you had been kissing Zemo continued to show in his eyes. “It was nice meeting you.”

Sam walked over to where you could see Sharon and a man whose hard stare was focused on Zemo, and was that a metal hand? How fascinating. You turned to face Helmut, knowing this was goodbye. At least for now.

“I’m afraid that I must go, draga. But I will call you before we leave and you will meet us, yes?”

You nodded as you gestured for his phone, inputting your number and thinking of what you wanted to take with you from your small apartment.

“Yes, I’ll meet you at the airport. I just want to pack some things up first. Don’t take too long, Helmut.” Your tone turned teasing at the end. “I won’t wait forever.”

He smirked at you and kissed you again, and as you pulled him closer the effect you had on him was obvious. The same effect he had on you, so it was nice to know that it was reciprocal.

“If I am not there, then Oeznik will take care of you. You can trust him with your life. Goodbye, my love.”

“See you soon, my villain. My Helmut.”

He gave you one last lingering look that promised things to come and went to join his companions. You watched them leave the party, giving Sharon and Sam a wave and cheerfully smiling at the stoic man with the metal arm, who was still staring at you as they left. You blew Helmut a kiss and watched him smile, an actual smile this time, before walking away. That was just as nice a view from the back as it was from the front.

You roused yourself from your small daydream of seeing Helmut’s body and especially his butt unclothed and left the party, knife in hand.  You never knew who you would encounter on the way home in Madripoor and you had a date tomorrow that you were not going to miss.

You arrived at the airport and were met by a man, waiting outside of what you assumed was Helmut’s private plane, on the tarmac. Oeznik seemed to be a wonderful person, who had only fond things to say about Helmut. Now as you got settled into one of the comfortable plane seats, all you had to do was wait.

You’d taken out your sketch pad and were drawing Helmut from memory when you heard men’s voices bickering back and forth with Helmut’s accented voice standing out to you with more familiarity than it should have. He was here. As they entered the plane, you ignored Sam and the man who had been staring at you last night in favor of focusing on Helmut. He looked tired, but no worse for wear. As he laid eyes on you, they lit up in a way that neither of the others seemed to notice.

“You came. My beloved.” He stepped closer as if to embrace you. He smelled like fire. You stepped closer in return, but were interrupted as you went to answer.

“Who the hell is she, Zemo? Why is she here?” The voice came from the man you had yet to hear speak.

Zemo reluctantly faced him, who was still staring at you. Sam had already settled into a plane seat and was looking at you as well, though he too looked confused about why you were here.

“She’s with me, James, and will be accompanying us to our next destination. I vouch for her.” Helmut’s voice sounded proud when he said she’s with me and it gave you a thrill to hear it. You were with him now. His tone begged James to contradict him.

“This isn’t a vacation, Zemo. Why is she here?” James’s voice was hard and he was still staring at you, his blue eyes intense.

Sam also spoke up, “Your vouching for her isn’t likely to make us trust her, Zemo.”

By now, Helmut had settled himself in the seat next to yours and grasped your hand seemingly without a thought. He went to speak and you squeezed his hand before speaking up yourself, “I needed to get out of Madripoor, James. It was not safe for me there and Helmut was gracious enough to offer to help me. Aren’t you heroes? Isn’t helping people your job?”

You had thought Sam looked familiar last night, even without the wings and goggles, so you’d looked him up online and figured out that he was the Falcon. James also had to be some kind of hero if they were traveling together and based on his dislike of Helmut and what Helmut had told you last night, there was some history there. Either way, a little manipulation never hurt anyone.

Based on Helmut’s tightened grasp of your hand, you might have been a bit too blatant but what could you do? What had been said couldn’t be taken back.

James continued to stare at you before finally settling into a seat. “It’s Bucky.” His voice sounded resigned.

Sam spoke up, “Bucky, give it a rest. We can’t bring her back now and we can’t just leave her here on the tarmac, not with everyone coming after us. We have to go.” He then nodded at you. “And if she needs help, then she needs help.”

You knew that both Sam and Bucky would be watching you. You would do the same in their place. It was a good thing that you had nothing but the best of intentions. At the moment.

Everyone settled into their seats and began to talk about what they’d discovered in Madripoor. You tuned them out and focused on Helmut’s thumb that was caressing your hand. You felt him lean closer to whisper in your ear.

“Well played, draga. Though a bit heavy handed on the manipulation. Don’t worry, I’ll help you refine your techniques.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder and whispered back, “I look forward to it, my Hel.” You got comfortable and with the scent of smoke and something uniquely Helmut in your nose, you fell asleep.

Helmut breathed in the smell of your hair as he told Oeznik to set the plane’s course for Riga. He was glad you were here, that you were with him. You would not be leaving him again. Not if he had anything to say about it.

You woke as you felt the plane descend, your head still on Helmut’s shoulder.

You lifted it and turned to pull up the window shade to look outside. “Where are we, Hel?”

“Riga. It’s the next stage of our endeavor, and I have a place that we will be staying.”

You turned to face him, noticing that it looked like he hadn’t slept. You decided not to mention it. “You have a place here?”

“I used to come here when I was young with my parents. My mother in particular was fond of the city, though if it has fallen into some disrepair like I expect, then I believe she would be even more fond of it now.”

You filed away the fact that his mother was still alive for later. He stood up. You hadn’t even noticed the plane landing as you listened to him speak. You loved his voice. He offered you a hand and helped you stand.

“I believe you will like it here, draga. There is a bathtub that I hope we can put to good use.” With that, he smirked at you and you laughed even as you couldn’t help but anticipate that very scenario.

----

Helmut watched your face as you entered the apartment behind him and Sam. You had taken everything in, but your eyes kept coming back to the stained glass windows. Understandable, those had always been one of his favorite parts of this apartment. As he directed Sam to one of the bedrooms and moved towards the room he always used when he stayed here, his last glimpse was of you stepping closer to the windows and pulling your sketch pad out of your bag.

He settled everything in his room and stepped out. “I’m afraid there aren’t enough bedrooms for all four of us to have our own, my beloved.” His voice was teasing because while you’d be able to step into the hallway and see that he was telling the truth — both you and he knew that he wanted you in his room and in his bed. Nowhere else.

“There aren’t?” You turned to face him and tilted your head to the side with a grin on your face. “What a shame. Whoever shall I share with? Should I ask Bucky?” You paused and let your grin become even more mischievous, almost devilish in a way that appealed to Helmut more than he would admit out loud. He was pretending to be somewhat normal after all, though he hoped one day that there would be no pretending necessary. At least not with you. “Or is Sam the better option? He seems to like me.”

He let a growl escape as he stepped closer, cupping your face in his hand and kissing you. The pressure of his lips against yours was light before increasing due to your eager response. His lips shifted into a small smirk that you could feel against yours as you opened your mouth to his.

His voice when he murmured your name was deep, causing you to let out a soft moan as his hands slipped down to grasp your butt, pulling you closer. You bit his lip teasingly, first lightly then harder causing him to let loose another growl and for his eyes to go wild as he pulled back. “Don’t tease me, draga. You would not like what I would do to Sam if I thought you had even the slightest interest in him.” He kissed you again before pulling away. “I would kill for you, my beauty. And to keep you. Just as I would die for you. And I would do it all with a smile on my face.

You shivered and tried to pull yourself together because each kiss with this man got better every time. That was also the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you. He was so beautiful to you and he got more beautiful by the minute as he showed himself to be more dangerous.

As Helmut began to fill the tub, you let your eyes rove over the bathroom and your attention was caught by the intricate tiles on the walls before you heard clothes begin to drop to the floor behind you.

You turned your head and watched as he settled into the tub, noting that the reality of his body including his butt, was even better than all your imaginings.

He caught you looking and chuckled, his voice husky, before smirking. “Well, aren’t you going to join me? There’s more than enough room for two.”

You thought that might have been the first time you heard him laugh and you wanted to hear more of it, especially in this context. You sat down to pull off your boots, knowing that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

After taking your time and feeling the intensity of his gaze as you removed each item of clothing with deliberate slowness, you approached the tub and looked into his eyes. They were dark with want and an emotion you weren’t ready to name.

It wasn’t the largest tub in the world, but as he helped you enter it you decided it didn’t matter. It would only allow you to be closer to him. As you settled into the tub, your back to his chest, you sighed in contentment. You relaxed together, feeling his warmth against your back and the muscles of his thighs under yours.

Helmut began to run a washcloth over your body, taking his time to caress your arms and hands. He washed your stomach, ignoring your squirming that you couldn’t quite contain. You closed your eyes in bliss as he reached your breasts, lingering on them a bit more than needed to get them clean. You felt hot and involuntarily leaned back even closer to him, feeling him hard and thick against the small of your back.

You gasped, “Hel…”

He continued to caress you. You could feel his breath against your ear, “Yes, draga? You teased me and now I get to tease you. Quid pro quo.” He was attempting to sound unaffected, but you could hear the rasp in his voice and you felt just how affected he was against you. He continued to run the washcloth over your stomach before dipping it in between your legs and replacing it with his fingers. He circled his thumb over your clit and you gasped, rocking back against him without a care if water fell on the floor. It would serve him right.

You turned and kissed him, straddling him and running your hands through his hair as his fingers worked over you and inside you. He gave as good as he got as you rocked back and forth on his lap, pulling  your hips down harder and bucking up against you. You couldn’t take it anymore, crying out and clenching on his fingers — you needed him inside of you and you wanted to feel it. His length was hard and hot in your hand and as you grasped him and sunk down on him with a moan, he groaned.  

“You’re so tight. And wet. All for me.” His pupils were blown wide and his hair had fallen in front of his eye, causing you to reach out a hand and push it back. Your thumb brushed across his cheekbone tenderly and he reached up to grasp your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. You smiled at him and laughed as more water fell onto the floor as you both began to move again. He laughed too before speaking, “Draga, we must be quiet. Sam is right outside. Do you think you can do that?” His voice was rough and close to a growl.

You nodded even as your eyes began to close, feeling him thrust up into you as you rolled your hips.

Helmut grasped your chin. “No, you will look at me. I want to see your eyes — every expression on your face as you come for me.”

You lost count of how many times you fell apart. Let’s just say that you hoped Sam was not too close to the bathroom because your endeavor to keep quiet failed more than once.

----

You laid in what was left of the bath, lazy in your satisfaction, watching Helmut tend to his hair while naked. You looked at the small half moon marks and scratches your fingers had left from digging into his back with no little amount of possessiveness. He was Yours. You had wanted to mark him and you knew he had wanted it too. After all, you had marks of your own. Just as you were His.

He smiled at you in the mirror and turned. “I will wear them as a badge of honor and hope for more in the future.” His eyes were alight with his own satisfaction and possessiveness as he took in the marks he had left on your body in return through the now clear water. “Beautiful, draga.”

Helmut pulled on a robe, before offering you a towel to dry yourself with. Then, it was his turn to watch you.

“I would do this every day. With you.” His statement had the tone of a question. Did you feel the same?

His robe gaped at the top, leaving his chest hair and necklace exposed and you already wanted him again, even knowing that you didn’t have time right now. Sam was outside and Bucky would be back soon.

You had taken too long already.

You turned to him, dropping the towel and stepping closer. You watched his eyes linger on your body, before focusing on your face.

“If every day is like today, then I’m going to want you all the time.”

As he helped you into a matching robe to his, he brushed his thumb over your nipple teasingly before whispering in your ear, “Oh draga, we didn’t even have a bed. Imagine what it would be like in our bed… The things I would like to do to and for you.”

You tied the robe and turned to kiss him, which he cut short. “Come on, my beloved. We musn’t keep Sam and James waiting.”

With that he strode out the door in his robe, towel in hand.

He was so dramatic and you loved it.

You took more time coming out of the bathroom, changing into an extra pair of jeans and a sweater that you’d left on the side. Not everyone had Helmut’s uncaring attitude when it came to wearing a robe in front of strangers. Then again, it was his house.

You exited the bathroom, only to see Helmut rummaging through the kitchen cabinets and rolling his eyes at something that Bucky had said. You waved in greeting to Bucky and gave Sam a smile before focusing back on Helmut, who apparently had killed a man in Madripoor.

Typical. He’d probably looked good doing it too. And did he have a cookie on his finger? This man.

You shook your head and settled into one of the chairs at the counter, watching Hel pull out what looked like candy as the men talked about Sam’s Titi and a funeral for someone important in the community.

Little did you know that Helmut was making sure that this was the non-poisonous Turkish Delight. His mother had liked to make the candy and fill it with all types of different poisons. It had been a game for him as a child to try and guess the poison. By the time he was teenager, he won the game every time. The cyanide Turkish Delight was particularly good with a quite enjoyable flavor. While it was tempting to have you try one of the poisonous ones and begin your acclimation to poisons now, it wasn’t the time. There would be time for that later.

The men discussed heading out into the city and seeing if they could find where this funeral was going to be. You knew even as you ate one of Helmut’s so-called irresistible Turkish Delights that you weren’t invited. That was fine. You’d rather do some sketching anyway.

Helmut had changed back into his clothes, coat included. You loved that coat and were looking forward to getting to try it on for yourself, preferably with nothing on underneath. He kissed you and caressed your cheek before bidding you goodbye.

You watched them leave, worrying about Helmut, yet looking forward to some time alone to draw. As you settled on the couch, beginning to focus on the contours of the skull you were drawing in loving detail, after the excitement of the last few days it didn’t surprise you when your eyes began to close.

----

You awoke with a jerk as you heard what sounded like glass hitting the wall. You sat up, head foggy only to see Bucky facing Helmut whose back was to you. Based on their postures, that must have been Bucky who threw something.

You went to stand and watched as Sam deescalated the situation, even as Bucky and Helmut were still staring at each other.

You held in a laugh at “ the stupid head tilt thing” because you knew Helmut wouldn’t like that he had any tells, but the way Sam phrased it was funny. And also accurate.

Sam left the room and Bucky walked away after saying no to the cherry blossom tea, leaving you and Helmut alone. It was then that you spoke up.

“I’d like some cherry blossom tea if you’re offering, my villain.”

Helmut turned to you. “I am sorry we woke you, draga. Yes, of course.” He poured you a cup and presented it to you. “Here cherry blossom tea for my sweet blossom. Or should that be my thorny blossom?”

You laughed, glad that you hadn’t drank any tea yet, before taking a sip. “Really, Hel? That wasn’t as smooth as normal.”

He joined you on the couch. “I thought you might need a laugh. As do I. Interacting with the children brought back memories.”

You watched him before reaching out to take his hand in yours. “Of your son?”

At his nod, you continued, “Tell me about him.”

He cleared his throat and you were prepared for him to turn away and leave, but to your surprise he spoke, “Carl was… Carl was good. In a way that I have not been nor will ever be. He loved the outdoors and he loved to play video games. He was a good boy and a good son, and I wish that I had gotten to see what he would become.”

His hand clenched tightly around yours, almost to the point of pain, but you said nothing.

“And your wife?”

“Heike was beautiful, both inside and out. When I first met her, I thought I would never see anything more arresting. Her bloody hands as she stitched up my men. Until I saw you, standing in front of Judith Slaying Holofernes. I thought Heike was the love of my life and though she still is and always will be, I have realized that we may be lucky enough to have more than one. She would have loved you. Just as I do. I’m excited for when you’ll meet in the afterlife. All three of us together will be glorious.”

You disregarded him talking about your potential deaths for another time. “You love me?”

He turned his head to look into your eyes, “I have loved you since I first saw you, but do understand if it’s too early for you to know your feelings.”

You didn’t hesitate, “I love you too, my Hel.”

The three men returned from the funeral and you ran towards where Helmut was being supported by both Bucky and Sam.

“What happened?” You looked to Sam as you helped them situate Helmut on the couch.

“Walker happened. He hit him in the head with the shield.”

You moved to the kitchen and ran cold water over a washcloth for Helmut’s forehead.

“And he’s your Captain America?”

Bucky scoffed, “He’s not my Captain America. He shouldn’t even have the shield in the first place.”

Sam sighed, “Here we go again.”

You tuned out their bickering as you tended to Helmut. He had been fine this morning, telling you that he loved you, and now he was hurt. What if he never told you that he loved you again? You watched him carefully and were surprised to see his eyes fluttering. You leaned closer and saw him smirk and put a finger to his lips. You smiled. He wasn’t as bad as you thought. He was going to be okay.

For his part, Helmut had been knocked out but had woken up about halfway back to the apartment. His cousin, Wednesday, hit much harder than John Walker. Even Pubert hit harder than John Walker. This injury was nothing to an Addams but he was planning to play it up for as long as possible, especially if it would get Sam and James off his back for a few hours and give him a little time to plan his escape. Well, his and yours. He would not be leaving you behind for any reason.

----

Walker burst into the room, causing you to move closer to Helmut who had stood up with his whiskey still in hand. You didn’t want to take your eyes off of Walker, the threat in the room, but you couldn’t help but let them admire Helmut in his shoulder holsters. He looked good. As always.

You watched Sam stand up for Helmut and listened to Walker, who unsurprisingly made you angry with his attitude. This was the man who had hit your Hel in the head with a shield? What an asshole. You stepped closer to Walker, reaching to pull the knife that you always kept in your boot. No one was looking at you, too consumed in the interactions between Sam and Walker. Or so you thought. You felt a hand on your arm and Helmut gently pulled you back, shaking his head as you looked at him and motioning for you to come closer. He offered you some of his whiskey, smirking as you shook your head no. He wanted to pull you into his arms and press a kiss to your forehead, but resisted. He knew you both might need your hands free for what was to come.

It was enjoyable standing next to Helmut as he casually sipped his whiskey and you watched avidly as the Dora Milaje fought Walker. They were amazing. As Bucky and Sam joined the fight, you glanced at Helmut to see if he was enjoying this as much as you were. He had an interesting look on his face and as he put down his drink and grabbed your hand, you had a feeling that you knew where this was going. He led you to the bathroom and had you step in front of him as he subtly closed and locked the bathroom doors.

“Time to escape, my villain?” You whispered as you watched him fiddle with the tub.

“Time to escape, draga. It should be just here. Ah, yes.”

The tub began to move, leaving a sewage grate exposed in the ground. You helped him lift it and each of you went through one by one. Helmut helped you down the ladder and kept hold of your hand once in the tunnel.

“Come, my love. I have a place we can go.”

“You always have a place we can go, my villain.”

You enjoyed the time that you got to spend alone with Helmut in one of his family’s properties, not far from where Sokovia had fallen — even with the knowledge that it couldn’t possibly last. That Sam or Bucky or both would eventually catch up with you and send your Hel back to prison. It had been blissful and satisfying here as though you and Helmut were in your own little world, cut off from everything.

You had never known another partner, who could satisfy you the way that Helmut could. You had lost count of the variety of different ways and places that he had made you come. He anticipated your needs in a way no one else had and he knew the perfect balance between pleasure and pain. He began to teach you the same and you were a diligent student, looking forward to those lessons with anticipation.

Flashback:

You were reading in the library when he stepped in, wearing one of his many robes. You knew that he did it on purpose to entice you and it got your attention as always. He sat across from you and let the robe gape open, leaving his chest exposed. You couldn’t help but stare at him, taking in the necklace and chest hair, your interest in the book lost. Helmut acted oblivious, picking up one of the books on the table and beginning to read.

You closed yours with a snap and placed it down.

“My Hel.”

He hummed absentmindedly, keeping his eyes on the book even as he hadn’t turned any pages yet. He wasn’t fooling anyone. “Yes, draga?”

“I would like to try something new today, Hel.”

“Hmm?”

“I would like you to be the one restrained this time, my villain.” You leaned in close and grasped his chin, tilting his head up. His eyes were dark. “Would you like that, darling?”

“Yes, my love. Please.” It came out as a gasp.

“Do you have everything prepared?” You assumed he did because that had to have been his intention coming into the library, looking like temptation personified, in the first place.

“Yes.” His voice was giddy with anticipation.

You smiled at him and caressed his cheek before walking away with the expectation that he would follow. He always did.

“Such a well behaved villain. You deserve a reward. Meet me in the bedroom.”

You smirked to yourself as you heard the chair hurriedly push away from the table.

End Flashback

You never wanted to give him up. You wanted to be by his side forever. In life and in death. But it was not to be. Your time together was coming to an end. Helmut would be going to the Sokovian Memorial to await Bucky’s arrival and leaving you behind.

“You will be safe here, my beloved.  No one, save Oeznik and my mother, knows of the existence of this house.”

You nodded as you let the tears that you were trying to hold in flow.

“I promise that I will see you again. Nothing shall keep me from you, even in death we will be together. Always. With my Heike too of course. She will adore you. Just as I do.”

He proceeded to give you instructions for what to do after he’d gone, which you committed to memory. You knew that while he did not want to go, he was ready to leave. If he didn’t leave now, then he didn’t know if he’d be able to do so. You kissed him desperately and as his hands grasped your waist, pulling you closer, you ground against him. He pulled back in admonishment.

“I know what you’re doing, draga. It will not work. I must go.”

Even so, he was the one to lean back in and reinitiate things. He couldn’t resist you. Not in this. By the time you were in the bedroom and Helmut was inside of you, he had forgotten why he had protested in the first place. He made desperate eye contact with you and held you close, committing every detail to memory. It was slower than normal, tender, and as you came you gasped his name. He picked up the pace and followed suit, hoping that you didn’t notice his worshipful gaze on your stomach and the hidden hope on his face.

He would never be over Carl’s death. Never. Carl was His. Yet he wanted another child with you, one that you had made together. One he hoped to teach about poisons and the best way to kill a man, just as his mother had before him. One he could introduce to his mother as an Addams, just as you now were. He wanted it with a quiet kind of desperation and a secret yearning. You would look so beautiful carrying his child.

----

You kissed him again before he left, and you didn’t make any attempt to stop your tears this time.

“Don’t cry, draga. All will be well. You will see me again soon, and I will count the days until you are once again in my arms. You won’t even have time to miss me.” His voice was teasing, but rough as he held in emotions of his own.

You humored him with a watery laugh. “Good bye, my villain. Don’t torture yourself in prison, Hel. That’s my job.”

“Oh, my love. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He gave you one last smile before getting into the car with Oeznik behind the wheel.

You stood in the doorway until you couldn’t see the car anymore before letting yourself give into your tears. You didn't know how long you sat there sobbing, but some time later you began to carry out Helmut’s instructions. This would not be forever, not if you had anything to say about it.

It was time to take a trip to 001 Cemetery Lane and meet your new family. Something told you that you’d get along just fine.

Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated. Thanks so much for reading!

A/N: This goes right into Cousin Helmut if you’d like to read the fic that started this little crossover series. Hope you all enjoyed this, and please let me know if you did! 

I do have ideas for a sequel, where the whole family breaks Zemo out of the Raft which I think would be a lot of fun. 

Many thanks to my beloved @clints-lucky-arrow​ for giving me a much needed confidence boost, for your feedback, and for beta reading 💜 And to the lovely @lafemmedezemo for being a big supporter of Zemo as an Addams since the beginning and for requesting this fic’s moodboard -- you’re both the best and ily!

My Masterlist

#Zemo x reader #Helmut Zemo x reader #the addams family #addams family #Zemo x you #Helmut Zemo x you #Baron Zemo x reader #Zemo is an Addams #crossover fic #halloween fic #Baron Zemo x you #Zemo x f! reader #zemo fic #Zemo fanfiction #Zemo fanfic #Daniel Brühl x reader #Zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #crossover #nocapeswriting

[morguevampire]

(Un) Fortunate Encounters - Chapter 6

Masterlist for this fic

summary:  Fighting boredom and missing genuine human interactions you make it your mission to find out more about the Baron. He ignores your questions but tension builds up eventually, when you don't stop prying.

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of torture, drinking, mild alcoholism, dark themes, slow build romance, not really Stockholm syndrome but that’s up for interpretation 

chapters: 6/?

word count: 1.934k 

pairings: Helmut Zemo x fem!Reader

author’s note: 

Uhhh, it's been a minute. Whoopsie.

Here's the usual excuses of being busy with uni and real life responsibilities but if we're completely honest I did not really feel like writing and I think I needed a (quite long) break from this story but I am back and i had fun writing this! Wrote this chapter pretty fast, so excuse the mess lol. As usual, english not my first language bla bla bla.

Feedback is always appreciated and THANK YOU to whoever is still reading this and has not given up on me. I have the intention of finishing this... i just need time. But as Zemo said: I have experience. And patience. A man can do anything if he has those.

Muchos besos mis amores <3

You can also find this work on https://archiveofourown.org/works/43158162/chapters/119680711

The more time you spend talking to Zemo, the more intriguing it becomes to find out more about his person. He’s like a closed book, not giving you any more information than is visible on the cover. Little side notes sometimes helping your brain in forming a genuine personality around him. But it feels like a one-sided game. He asks you questions about your family and friends, your hobbies, your feelings and your morals but in return you get almost nothing.

Mentally you make a note to pay extra attention when talking to him. Taking in all the crumbs he gives you about his private life. It almost feels like a game, and it does keep you entertained.

With time you get bolder in returning his questions. Simple little inquires, which aren’t too intimate but when answered could reveal something.

It’s obvious that they annoy him, most times he won’t answer or even leave the room in a sort of nonchalant way which makes you even more curious. As if he didn’t hear you. But his ignorance doesn’t stop you from prying. He’s fast to tell you his values and morals in a general sense, yet he will not go into specifics about his actions or his past.

On one occasion, it was during your dinner-routine, he seemed to be in a particularly chatty mood and gave you quite a few personal insights, so you figured it might just be okay to ask him about his family. You were both indulging in some whiskey and at the beginning it seemed to have lifted some of his secretive nature. You even catch him smiling at one point. Like a full-on laugh. But that changes immediately once you ask him about his son.

“So, what was Carl like? That’s your son’s name right? I think I read it in a news article somewhere?”

The noise of his cutlery clashing against the porcelain plate startle you. You immediately fix your gaze to your own plate, not wanting to look at his furious face and be reminded of the incident in his study. Your intentions were innocent enough but you knew you had overstepped a boundary. Instead of rage or screaming, his eerie soft but sharp voice tells you it’d probably be best to retire for the night. You mumble a quiet “sorry” but he’s already out of the dining room.

With that you’re left alone, food half eaten and the light mood of the evening ruined.

It bothers you. The way his mood changes so dramatically. It was difficult to navigate. On one hand you feel welcomed and heard and safe in his presence and on the other hand you feel like walking on very thin ice around him.

You were also sick of apologizing for asking questions. He seemed to know everything about you, yet you had no idea who the man you were staying with was. For the next day he was nowhere to be seen. Your trust had been broken.

You decide to distract yourself with books and a cup of tea, spiked with rum to ease your nerves. That evening you eat dinner on your own. Sulking in your own stupidity in thinking such a manipulative, egoistic man would open up to you. You still couldn’t even figure out what his intentions with you were. What did he want? Why were you still here? After all, it has been two weeks or so.

Time seemed to fly by when you were in company with either the Baron or Oeznik, but when you were alone it was like living in a never-ending dream. Not necessarily a nightmare, but the sort of dreams that made you feel stuck and anxious.

After dinner you decide to lounge around the living room, nursing a glass of the expensive liquor stashed in a cupboard next to the bookshelves. Alcohol helps pass the time, you figure. You were staring at the words in a random book, absently touching the stitched up wound above your left eye when his voice interrupts your aimless thoughts.

“We should probably take out those stitches. The wound seems healed enough.”

It wasn’t a question or a request. It was a command to get up and follow him into the downstairs bathroom.

He instructs you to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, where he kneels in front of you, unpacking the medical kit which seems to have magically appeared. You feel yourself caught in a sort of haze, intimidated by the situation. You’ve never been this close to the man before.

Perhaps that time in the warehouse where he carried you towards safety but having him in front of you, on his knees, face so close you could feel the ghost of his breath on your cheek not only made you blush, but also tense up.

You try avoiding his keen stare, rather just looking down at your sweaty hands fumbling around nervously.

When you dare to look up for individual short moments you notice light freckles on his skin. Also some stubble on the cheeks. But his face seems soft, even with his focused gaze, eyebrows furrowed to assess the wound on your forehead.

Whenever you feel your staring becomes too intense or obvious and you look down again, his smell overtakes your senses. His cologne smells citrusy, mixed with notes of cedar wood. 

You curse yourself for being so desperate. It must be your lack of social interaction with other humans besides him that makes you so overwhelmed with the closeness. Needless to say, it is an invasion of your private space, whether you appreciate it or not, you can’t really tell just yet.

After assessing the healing process of the wound Zemo mumbles a simple “looks good” and proceeds to take out tweezers and medial scissors.

It’s in that moment that he briefly catches your stare. For some unknown reason, instead of avoiding his eye, you decide to look right back at him. It’s probably only a fraction of a second but it feels like minutes of staring into each other’s eyes and by the time he finally concentrates on your forehead again you’re a wreck. Shaking even more than before and trying to breath as quietly as possible. What was wrong with you? Why did he have that effect on you?

He must have noticed your discomfort as he tells you that “it’s alright, just stay calm and relax” while he’s preparing to remove the stitches.  

It really just isn’t that easy to relax when your brain decides to completely eliminate the function of self-control and all you can think about is the fact that your kidnapper/host/new-friend-who-also-happens-to-be-a-Baron-AND-a-terrorist is actually quite an attractive man and very caring and gentle when he wants to be. His fingers just ever so slightly ghosting over your skin, giving you goosebumps all over. Underneath all those rigid, strong features definitely lies something soft and vulnerable.    

You try to calm yourself down, you really do. Closing your eyes and easing your breathing when Zemo suddenly burst your meditative bubble.

“He loved Turkish delights.”

Your eyes snap open, finding Zemo’s but he’s not looking at your confused expression, but instead focusing on the wound above your left eye. He senses your confusion though.

“Carl. My son.”

Now you were even more stunned. He was actually opening up. In all of the possible situations, he chooses to tell you about his son while being mere inches from your face. But you didn’t want to break the spell. Staying quiet and assuming he talked to distract you, why he chose such a personal topic, you didn’t know but you appreciate his story.

He tells you about how Carl was a tough kid. Nothing ever hurt too much and he wasn’t scared of anything, besides maybe wasps. But he most likely got that from his father. 

  He would come home from playing outside spotting bruises and cuts from branches or wounds from falling from his bike but he’d be so casual about it. Simply asking for a band aid, just to rip it off again after a few hours because it was “annoying on his skin”. 

His mother was worried he’d be too reckless, but she knew he’d learned from his father to always calculate the risks. 

It was only once, when he suddenly came running from playing with friends outside. When jumping over a little stream somewhere in the woods surrounding the Zemo’s Estate he must have slipped and cut himself quite deep on his shin on a sharp rock. The ever cool Carl he was, he told his friends it was nothing, just a scratch and he’d just get a band aid real quick.

  He really did try to hold back the tears, but when he spotted his father sitting on the balcony and alarmingly getting up when he saw his boy limping towards him, blood running all over his legs, the tears came, even for tough Carl.  

The wound was quickly fixed up, the tears dried and the mood lifted with a treat of Turkish Delights. 

“With all my efforts, I've always encouraged him to freely express his emotions. And not to shy away from embracing his weaknesses.” He sighs.

“But then again, I suppose I wasn’t much of a role model in that regard.”

You don’t know what to say. You want to say something. Anything. Mostly you want to thank him for opening up. For telling you about something so intimate. Essentially telling you about his own failings. Making himself vulnerable, right in front of you.

“I think he still really looked up to you. And I don’t think you failed.”

It’s all you say.

Zemo has long finished taking out the stitches but he’s still there. Not having moved from his position and it seems you’re back to simply staring at each other. In that moment he looks like a normal man. A bit of a broken man but a genuine one. An open book, really to be read and ready to be understood.  You catch yourself wanting to touch him then. Just softly run your hand along his cheek, or just give him a hug, a long one. You search his face, wanting to take in as much as possible, before the moment expires or worse: it turns out to have been a dream. He’s doing the same, his stare dropping to your lips in an almost antagonizing rhythm. It takes everything in you not to reach out. You’ve never been one to make first moves, and you feel it isn’t your place to take action or advantage of his vulnerability. So you wait, and continue to stare and hope he just leans in and kisses you already. You know it probably isn’t a good idea, but you also feel it to be something you both would need at the moment.

It could be your imagination but you feel as if he was leaning even further into your space, ever so closer, breath hitching and heart beating too fast, too loud in your chest….

“Right… the scar should heal quite nicely.”

It is pure disappointment. The way he pulls back in the last second, right before you could have tasted his lips, mumbling whatever about your scar. You just nervously clear your throat and thank him.

He’s stood up and is out of the bathroom before you can even think about saving the situation.

Needless to say, that night you can’t sleep. And for once, it’s not because of nightmares.

You lie there, wondering if his thoughts are circling around as well.

#helmut zemo fanfic #zemo fic #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #mcu #baron zemo x you #zemo x you

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Bucky Barnes One Shots

Bucky Barnes Main Masterlist

A/N: all reader inserts are female unless otherwise stated. These are as inclusive as possible and only description that may be included is if reader has hair (mostly used in rough smut scenes).   KEY: ⁂ = smut † = death ⨮ =angst ꕥ = fluff ⧻ = 500+ notes

The Ransom ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Sassy reader gets rescued by boyfriend!Bucky and Avengers Whiteout ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Friends to lovers trope, mission extraction gone wrong, PWP Sick Day ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick Fix You ⁂ ꕥ ➴ You take care of CW!Bucky after a nightmare Equal Opportunist ⁂ ➴ Assassin!Bucky keeps killing your marks so you have sex with him, PWP Sex-Ed ⧻ ➴ You fumble your way through teaching sex-ed with Bucky watching The Ghost Of You || AudioBook ➴ After the blip you have to survive the heartache without Bucky Postpartum Depression  ➴ Bucky helps you at your lowest, read warnings and tags Silver Tongue ➴ You break your rules to save Bucky End of the Line † ➴ Steve dies of old age in your care  Fall From Grace ⁂ ➴ MFF threesome, angel-turned-demon reader You Don’t Own Me  † || Dark!Winter Soldier ➴ No happy endings here, read warnings and tags 10 Little Lies ➴ Friends to lovers trope, a drunken night ends with Bucky in your bed  Eggplant Emoji ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes matters into his own hands when you struggle with modern dating. Good Behaviour ⁂ || ft. Baron Helmut Zemo ➴ The Baron sets you up a new Dom, Bucky, for when he is sent back to prison. Hacked ꕥ⨮ ➴ Your phone gets hacked and intimate files get threatened to be shared Obscene Behaviour ꕥ|| Platonic / Sam & Bucky ➴ Your coffee date with your friends takes a turn when you feed your newborn. She Knows ⁂ ⧻ ➴ You activate a new kink as you tease your boyfriend from across the bar. By Your Side ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick. Not Enough ꕥ ➴ Friends to lovers trope. When Worlds Collide ꕥ ➴ Your life changes completely when you and Bucky collide. Babysitting Bucky ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You are partnered with Bucky and he is not happy with the arrangement Control & Comfort ⁂ ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky has a rough day and takes it out in your p*ssy Plié or Pliable ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ Bucky watches you practicing ballet and wants to know how flexible you are.  A Change Of Season ⨮ ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ You are reunited with Bucky after Nat frees you from the Red Room, but it’s not what you expected Better Late Than Never ⁂ || Bucky, Steve, Natasha x reader ➴ You come home to find the party started without you. Takeout ꕥ ➴ You try to make a home cooked meal but it doesn’t go to plan Nightmares ⁂ || SamBucky ➴ When you wake to find Bucky caught in a nightmare there’s only one way to chase away the lingering fear. Mine ⁂ ⨮ ➴ Bucky gets jealous and spanks you for it Last Words ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You get kidnapped after storming out from a fight with Bucky The Bond We Share || vampire!reader ➴ You bond yourself to Bucky to save his life My Heart Remembers You ⨮ ꕥ ➴ Your love transcends time as you are reborn to find your Bucky Burning House ⨮ ➴ Another night another nightmare The Interrogation ⁂ || Winter Soldier ➴ You interrogate the Winter Soldier Promises ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You need to come to grips with your newly acquired power The Secret Life of Bucky Barnes ➴ A glimpse into life as Bucky’s secret girlfriend Wallflower ꕥ ➴ You and Bucky finally confess your feeling for each other Instinct ꕥ || blind!reader ➴ Bucky tracks you down after trying to stop a mugging and he ends up staying for the company. Don’t Want To Miss A Thing ⁂ ➴ Bucky celebrates your birthday Seven Seconds † ➴ In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

[orions-quiver]

do you write smut fics too cause i'd really enjoy a fic with jealous zemo🥺

Only Mine (Baron Zemo x Female!Reader)

Summary: After the meeting with Selby in Madripoor Zemo needs to remind you of who you belong to.

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

General Tags: Smut, Explicit, PWP, Daddy Kink, D/s Undertones, Oral (male receiving, female giving), Face Fucking, Thigh Riding, Degradation (name calling and demeaning language), Light Choking, Dirty Talk, Use of Force/Restraints, Rough Fucking

Note: This thing took up 18 pages in my notes app good lord. I had fun writing this from the usual jealousy in Madripoor trope with Zemo though. I got carried away and made him go somewhat feral lmao. This is not a soft possessive fuck, this is an angry "you are MINE" kind of possessive fuck. Hope y'all enjoy. ;)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"The breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery will cost you, Baron. And before you can get all cute, you can't find Nagel without me."

Zemo had already agreed to pass ownership of the Winter Soldier to the woman across from him. He began to think of what else she could be after. "I have given you HYDRA's greatest asset, Selby. What more could you want?"

(Y/n) had agreed to go along with Zemo's plan of putting her in the role as his arm candy. She sat in his lap snuggled up to him as his hand absentmindedly traced patterns against the exposed skin of her thighs. The (hair color) squirmed slightly when his hand roamed higher to slide under the already short fabric of the dress.

Zemo had bought a rather expensive but skimpy outfit for her to wear. It was a short, tight red dress that hugged the form and left nothing to the imagination paired with black velvet heels. The dress had a corset decorating the front, keeping her waist cinched and her figure more hourglass. The demand that came next didn't surprise him when Selby had spoken again.

"I want your other toy, Zemo."

Selby looked over (Y/n) with a gaze that screamed nothing but hungry predator. Zemo hummed, his gloved hand reached and grasped her chin before pushing the now utterly helpless bait to stand in front of him. "Go on, Draga. Show our friend a good time." The Baron looked back up at her as he spoke with an indifferent look crossing his features.

(Y/n) stood for a moment in front of Selby, silent and unsure. "Strip. Make it interesting." She barked. The woman felt uneasy with the situation already. "That was an order. Did your handler here not teach you to obey?"

A darkness began to consume Zemo's eyes as he watched this little charade of a mission. A violent, horrible feeling made his grip on the arms of the chair tighten and the gloves to give a soft squeaking noise.

"Forgive me, ma'am." (Y/n) reached up to the bow that held the corset lacing of the dress drawn together and pulled it free. She took small steps towards Selby as the lacing was removed. By the time she was straddling the older woman's lap the dress's front was completely open, a beautiful lace bralette was the only thing that protected her from being truly topless. (Y/n) had to commit if this was going to work.

She wanted to throw up.

Zemo had reduced her to nothing but another pawn to be handed to Selby like a cheap whore.

She giggled with fake shyness as Selby pushed the dress to pool at (Y/n)'s middle. (Y/n) finally removed the dress completely to reveal matching lace panties. The set was white, much like Zemo's knuckles were under the protection of his gloves. She sat more up on her knees and dipped her head to rest in the crook of the other's neck. Zemo's breathing was deep and deliberate as he watched on.

(Y/n) needed to be praised for her dedication to the part to make this work - but at what cost? Helmut Zemo's self-control, it seemed.

(Y/n) sighed softly, the end of the noise made her sound needy and pliant as the Baron watched the other woman grip her waist with a possessive edge.

When Sam's phone rang, the room fell silent as Selby stopped her movements. "A moment, beautiful."

Bucky caught her eye and flashed a curt nod of feeling equally as awful in their respective positions. Zemo ran through numbers in his head to keep himself from rising and ripping her from Selby's grip and covering her with his coat.

"Answer it." Selby's voice was cold. "On speaker phone." Leave it to Sam 'I-Don't-Put-My-Phone-On-Silent-During-An-Undercover-Op' Wilson to blow their cover, truly a stellar display for an experienced Avenger.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Are you joining us for the party?" Sharon asked as she ran a hand through her hair. "I'll pass. I want to be alone. I need a while." (Y/n) didn't hesitate in taking her retreat to the room Sharon had given her. She was angry at Zemo for giving her over like that, forcing her to play a more extreme character than what was already being pushed at her.

Zemo returned from the party soon after she had left for her room. "Where is (Y/n)?" He asked Sharon while taking a sip of the whiskey still in his hand. All she did was point to her room.

The Sokovian knocked once. Then twice. Now a third time. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing dangerously thin as his mind was still reeling from the incident with Selby. When no answer was given Zemo opened the door and walked into the bedroom, having shut the door behind him. "(Y/n)-"

"Fuck off, Zemo. You're the last person I want to see."

"That's no way to greet your handler, is it Draga?" Zemo was a stubborn, manipulative bastard. His aura alone drew the girl to him like a magnet. "You're not my fucking handler. Fuck. Off."

Zemo stalked closer. In seemingly one quick movement he had one hand holding (Y/n)'s wrists behind her back while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. She drew in a ragged breath as he pushed the girl back down and ripped the robe off of her body to discard it on the floor.

"What was that Draga?"

(Y/n) whimpered into the mattress in reply. She was again only covered by her undergarments. The sudden shift made her go soft. The possession in his grip was obvious, and it spoke to a need rising within her.

Zemo hummed in approval as he took the hand off of her neck to undo his belt and slide it out of the belt loops. "I must say Dušica, you committed to your role beautifully." (Y/n)'s brain clouded with the sound of his praise. "With doing this I hope to remind you of who you were supposed to belong to. You seemed to be having so much fun with Selby."

(Y/n) gasped quietly at the feeling of the leather gathering her wrists and holding her still. Zemo admired his work for a moment before he leaned forward, his body covering her back. The Baron nosed at her shoulder as he kissed every bit of skin that was offered to him.

"You're going to be making it up to me." He whispered as he nipped at her skin. "On your knees in front of me. You are going to let me use that pretty little mouth until you're choking on my cock."

When he stepped away (Y/n) seemed to scramble. The anger had burned away underneath the calm authority Zemo always embodied. She sought the steadiness of his control. It was sure. It was comforting. He was always comforting in that way.

Her attention was drawn back to the task at hand when Zemo unbuttoned his trousers with deft fingers. (Y/n) could already see how his cock was straining against the fabric keeping it out of sight. She shifted on her knees when Zemo forced a foot between her thighs.

"Stay just like this. If you want to act like a whore in front of me then you'll keep your legs spread like one." (Y/n)'s eyes peered up at the brunette through long lashes.

"Yes Daddy."

Zemo felt the air leave his lungs in a low groan. Lightening fast his cock was freed and rested against the woman's lips. "Open up Draga, Daddy wants to see how much of his cock you can swallow." Her lips opened and Zemo was hit with the sinful warmth of her tongue flattening to taste as much of him as possible as he fed her every inch. "Good girl." He praised softly. (Y/n) moaned around his cock, her jaw went slack and her breathing became forced as she settled just an inch away from the base of it. Her pretty white panties were going to be wrecked by the end of the night, and Zemo wanted to see it.

Zemo carded his fingers through (Y/n)'s (hair color) locks to soothe her as he eased himself back out. "Don't move. Keep your jaw relaxed. Daddy's going to make sure you can't talk tomorrow my darling."

With a handful of her hair Zemo thrusted back into the soft wet heat of (Y/n)'s mouth with brutal force. (Y/n) sputtered and gagged from the violent nature of his movement as her core throbbed at the sound of Zemo biting down a groan. "Beautiful. A perfect cocksleeve, aren't you baby?" He repeated his motion with the same violent possession burning through his system.

(Y/n) choked with every push and pull of her head meeting Zemo's punishing thrusts. Tears stained her face as the Baron groaned and moaned out soft praises at the feeling of her throat spasming and swallowing around his length. It made his head fog with a manic pleasure as (Y/n) began to feel the effects of her lack of oxygen between Zemo's rough rutting into her pliant mouth.

It's just as violent of a movement as the rest when Zemo is suddenly pulling his cock out of (Y/n)'s throat with a louder moan.

"You feel so good Draga. Took my cock so well in that sinful mouth of yours." His pupils were blown and eyes dark, a single band of his brown honeyed eyes threatening to snap with even one wrong move. He watched with quiet amusement as (Y/n) coughed violently as her lungs gulped down all of the air they could get. Spit had dripped from her mouth down her chin and onto the floor where her legs were still apart. He pushed her shoulder down until the fabric covering her throbbing pussy rested against his shoe where he had stuck his leg out. "Fuck yourself while I finish. If I'm satisfied I may even let you come soon."

(Y/n) sobbed when Zemo forcefully yanked her head back to look straight up at him. "What are you supposed to say when I give you an order?"

"Yes Daddy!" She cried with a soft, hoarse voice as her hips rutted against his Oxford. The laces against her swollen clit was good, but it wasn't enough with the sticky fabric of her panties in the way.

"You may be a pathetic slut but I would think you'd still have your proper manners for your Daddy." The hand holding her head back let go and returned to its place jerking his cock with quick movements. "Open your mouth."

When (Y/n)'s mouth opened she was met with the warmth of Zemo's come as it hit her face, her lips, and on her outstretched tongue. He tasted salty, but somehow sugary sweet in her mouth and she wanted more.

The woman rutted even harder against his shoe before she was grabbed by her abused throat and hauled up onto her shaking legs. Her knees buckled, and would've slammed against the floor if not for Zemo's (thankfully) firm grip on her. "Look at the mess you made of my shoe." The laces down to the toe of the Baron's shoe glistened under the dim light of the room. (Y/n) could feel how her underwear stuck uncomfortably against her and whined at the feeling.

"Shh little one," Zemo hushed as he adjusted himself and walked them to one of the plush chairs in the room. "You've been so good, taking me so well. There we go, back on your knees. Turn around sweetheart." His voice softened significantly as he unfastened the belt and let her hands free. "Up on three Draga. One...two...three." (Y/n) was lifted again and adjusted to straddle one on of the Baron's thighs. She rocked against him with short movements.

"You can touch me, Dušica. Would you like your underwear off honey?" She nodded shyly while her hands wandered to grip Zemo's broad shoulders and find purchase in the knitted fabric of his turtleneck. She didn't expect Zemo to pull out a pocket knife and cut the ruined fabric right off of her hips.

"Daddy!" She whined and buried her face in his chest out of embarrassment when he held the now scrap of fabric up to inspect it.

"Absolutely ruined." He leaned down to place a soft kiss to (Y/n)'s hair. "You can move Ljubav. You may come when you want my sweet." (Y/n) braced herself once more. Zemo lifted his leg upwards as she ground her hips against it. The fabric of Zemo's pants were a bit scratchy against her inner thighs and added to the friction on her clit.

Soft "Ah- Ah- Ah-"'s filled the room while (Y/n) fucked herself against the Baron in ernest. Zemo pressed feverish kisses against his lover's neck when her pace picked up and her cries grew in volume. He lowered a hand from her hips to seek out the sensitive bud. "Let go Kleiner. Come for Daddy. Tell them all who you belong to."

(Y/n) arched her back as she ground her hips again as hard as she could when Zemo's thumb drew tight circles around her clit and the other moved to grasp her throat. He squeezed it. It wasn't enough to hurt (Y/n), but just enough to cut off her air. With a sharp cry (Y/n) came, her voice high and airy as she moaned. "Helmut-" Her pussy clenched around nothing while Zemo didn't let up with his stimulation to help her ride out the high. "Helmut- Daddyyy-" The girl babbled softly while trying to move away as the oversensitivity set in like a vice.

"I hear you Draga. My beautiful girl, Selby would have only dreamed of seeing you fall apart like that." Zemo felt powerful having gotten more than she had ever bargained for in the first place. He grounded (Y/n) with a soft kiss to her lips.

Zemo carried (Y/n) back over to the large bed before he stepped into the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth and lotion. "Let's get you cleaned up, meine Liebe."

#baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #daniel bruhl #helmut zemo x reader #the danny bunch #helmut zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #ca:cw #captain america: civil war #baron helmut zemo #answered

[mlmxreader]

Saintly | Helmut Zemo x m!reader (🍋)

Anonymous asked: Z-zemo smut 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 I- this man needs to make me get on my knees and then tilt my chin up and praise me until I die or something

I want him to make me cry from feeling too good 🙏🏻🙏🏻

summary: it’s a special night, and all Zemo wants to do is to make you feel like you’re in heaven 

tws: swearing, spanking, anal sex, praise kink, religious imagery 

word count: 1509

MINORS DNI

You were always so eager for Zemo, always begging and pleading for the most simple of touches, the most gentle of his kisses and the most sweet of his slaps and bites that he so eagerly landed against your skin every single time that you simply looked at him; he always loved it so fucking much when you were on your knees for him, when you were so fucking eager just to be there and just to watch him, whether he was touching himself while he looked at you, or whether he had… other plans for you. 

Tonight, though, he had… a few plans for you; with you on your knees, all lubed up and already so eager for him that you were practically crying for his attention, for his touch and for his kiss. Already so fucking desperate and so fucking needy for him. The carpet dug into your knees, leaving imprints on your skin as the cold air hit your skin and the handcuffs that bound your wrists behind your back bit into the soft flesh, and when his thumb gently ran along your bottom lip, you could not stop the whimper that left the back of your throat. 

“Such a good boy,” Zemo said lowly, his voice thick with amusement and that fucking stupid smug attitude. “Aren’t you? Hmm?”

He let his grip fall to your chin, grasping it between his forefinger and thumb as he tilted your head up ever so slightly, just to look into your eyes and to see how fucking eager and desperate you were for him; by now, he would have covered you in bruises and bite marks. By now, he would have made you beg for him to go further, to make you bleed, to make you squirm for him as your voice became strangled, hoarse, muted from the way he gripped your throat so tightly. But tonight was different, tonight was a lot more special than most. An anniversary. A night where he wanted little more than to treat you like the fucking prince he wanted you to be. 

“Always good for you,” you breathed out with a nod. “Always.” 

“Bend over my desk,” Zemo growled, tilting his head so that he could gesture to it. “Now.” 

You swallowed thickly, waiting for him to pull away before you did as he said, bending over the dark brownish red wood, you waited for him to unlock the handcuffs before you could stretch your arms over it, and when he locked them to the drawer closest to you, you couldn’t help but to growl softly under your breath. You licked your lips, shaky breaths leaving you as you readied yourself for what he was about to do. 

“You’ve been a good boy,” he praised once more, coming to stand beside you and running his hand up and down your ass. “Tell me - what do you want me to do with you?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you could hardly get the words out, nodding and trying your best not to wriggle your ass just so you could feel his skin on yours. “Please, Baron. I want you to fuck me.” 

“Say it again,” Zemo hissed, getting behind you and rubbing your ass again, ready to slap it at a moment’s notice. “C’mon, be a good boy and say it again.” 

“I want you to fuck me,” your voice was getting weaker by the moment. “Please, I want you to fuck me.” 

Slowly, his movements calculated and almost tortuous as he lined himself up behind you, Zemo pressed his body against yours, groaning softly before he eased himself into your ass, clenching his jaw as he grabbed the back of your neck with one hand and letting his other hand rest on your hip. “That feel good? Hmm, mein Prinz?" 

“Yeah,” you could hardly speak, pushing back against him and trying to fuck yourself against him, but when he delivered a harsh slap to your ass, you bit your lip, and whimpered softly under your breath. “Do that again, please… please, Baron.” 

Zemo couldn’t deny such a sweet little beg, bringing his hand down against your ass once more, harsher this time, before starting to pick up his pace; snapping his hips as he pounded into you, his grip around the back of your neck getting harder as he forced you to stay still against the desk, not caring that you were starting to sweat and to lose your ability to speak. All he cared about was claiming you, making you his as much as he could. 

“Sehr gut,” he breathed out, biting at the inside of his lip. “Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” 

Shit, he made you feel so good, the way he seemed to hit all the right and sweet spots of your ass and make you pant and moan for him, coming undone in just a few moments, you couldn’t stop yourself as your eyes welled up with tears and you pressed your forehead against the dark wood of the desk; all you wanted was for him to make you cum, was for him to make you feel like you meant every-fucking-thing in the world to him. All you wanted was for him to claim you. To fucking ruin your body so that only he could ever make you cum, could ever please you. Ruin you so that no one’s touch could ever make you feel a damn thing, except his; your Baron’s. 

Your Baron. The only man who could ever drive you so fucking wild in so little time. 

Zemo didn’t let up, though, slapping your ass again and digging his fingernails into the flesh at the back of your neck so much that you could only squirm and beg softly for him to keep going, begging between soft and gentle sobs; he was pounding into you so well that all you wanted was to cum. All you needed was for him to keep praising you, keep slapping your ass while he pounded it. All you needed was him. 

“Good boy,” Zemo praised softly. “You’re so, so good, mein prinz… fuck, I might have to make you cum more than once tonight - would you like that?”

“Later,” you couldn’t whimper out anything else, your voice so hoarse and so strangled and so raw that just the single word made it scratch the sides of your throat. 

“Later it is,” he promised you softly, growling softly as he kept up his quick and harsh pace, slapping your ass. “Fuck, you’re being such a good boy… sehr gut.” 

You couldn’t hold yourself back, trying so desperately to fuck yourself on his cock despite the fact that he was holding you down by the neck, all whimpers and moans and grunts and growls; release starting to build up as you let out a string of howls of his name under your breath. It sounded like a fucking prayer. Like you were begging him to cleanse every sin you had ever committed. Every sacrilegious act washed from your bones. Every time you called his name, it sounded little more than like a prayer. Like he was a Saint. Your Saint. 

The one who could rid you of your sins. The one who could answer every and any prayer. And shit, when you called his name like that, even Zemo had to admit that he felt a little godly. He felt like he wasn’t just any god, but your god; like only he could ever be the one to forgive any of your sins. No gods and no masters could ever come close to him; he was your Saint. He was your saviour. His touch was holy and his words were commandments. A Saint, a saviour, the only one who could have you down on your knees begging for forgiveness. The only one that mattered. Divine. Angelic. Heavenly. 

“That’s it,” Zemo praised softly. “Cum for your Baron, mein prinz. Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

You weren’t ever going to disobey such a commandment, letting yourself go, become undone; letting all those sins wash away as you howled and moaned and let him deify you. Make you holy. Sanctify you. 

You didn’t want him to stop, though, you didn’t want him to ever stop, and when he started to fill your ass with his cum, you couldn’t help but to wish that he could have kept going; that he could have washed you of your sins completely, that he could have made you feel like a divine being - like him. 

Letting go of you, Zemo pressed his forehead against the back of your neck as he doubled over, letting his hands lay limp either side of you as his hot breath traced your skin. 

“Such a good boy,” Zemo whispered. “All mine… only mine.”

“I wanna keep going,” you said softly. “Please, Baron?”

“Give me a moment, mein prinz,” he couldn’t help but to laugh softly. “We’ll go for round two once I’ve caught my breath, ja?”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #helmut zemo oneshot #helmut zemo one shot #helmut zemo imagine #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x yn #helmut zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfic #helmut zemo fic #helmut zemo #baron zemo oneshot #baron zemo one shot #baron zemo imagine #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #baron zemo x yn #baron zemo fanfiction #baron zemo fanfic #baron zemo fic #baron zemo #zemo oneshot #zemo one shot #zemo imagine #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo x y/n #zemo x yn

[starryevermore]

starrysleepvoer: a 4k follower celebration

you’ve been invited to kayla’s 4k follower celebration sleepover! where is it? right in my askbox! when is it? it’s from SAT, JULY 9, 2022 at 5:00pm EST - FRI, JULY 15, 2022 at 5:00pm EST! what does this entail? keep reading to find out!

note: if you are asking for multiple things, PLEASE send each request in individual asks!

note 2: you can go ahead and start sending things in! however, nothing will be answered until 07/09/22 at 5:00PM. 

🥃 blurbs

got an idea for something you want me to write? send in a “🥃” emoji + a prompt (from the list provided or something of your own creation) + the character(s) and i’ll write it for you!

i no longer write rpf, so please only send in characters. the characters you can pick from are as follows:

mcu characters: bucky barnes, sam wilson, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, peter parker, steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley, khonshu, layla el-faouly, kate bishop. 

seb stan characters: bucky barnes, charles blackwood, lance tucker, lee bodecker, jefferson/mad hatter, nick fowler, steve kemp. 

cevans characters: steve rogers, ransom drysdale, ari levinson, robert pronge/mr. freezy, frank adler, jake jensen, curtis everett, lloyd hansen. 

oscar isaac characters: steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley, poe dameron, nathan bateman, jonathan levy, santiago garcia. 

pedro pascal characters: din djarin, frankie morales, javi gutierrez. 

star wars characters: poe dameron, obi-wan kenobi, luke skywalker, din djarin.

if there is a character you would like me to write that does not fall within this list, please send an ask or message beforehand to see if i'm okay with that character. 

i write angst, fluff, smut, and dark fics. if you have a preference for what the blurb will be, please specify in your ask. 

standard request faq information does still apply. 

prompt list

🍷 what if...? 

have you ever read a fic of mind and thought “hmm...i wonder what would happen if xyz had happened instead? well here’s the time to find out! send in an “🍷” + the fic (series, oneshot, blurb—whatever!) + your scenario and i’ll cook up a blurb or headcanon for you! 

any oneshot or blurb is up for grabs. 

the following series can be discussed: let my guard down (bucky), traitor (bucky/steve), remember me (bucky/nat), the wolf and the mouse (bucky/nick), she gets the flowers (steve/ransom), holding her heart (lee/ari), let’s ride (ari), and ever after (multiple).

🍹 moodboards

if you would like a moodboard, send in a “🍹” emoji + a concept (ex. bookstore date, stargazing, etc.)

🍸 mini games

send in a “🍸” plus any game you would like me to play. games include but are not limited to:

fmk (which may become fuck/marry/kiss if i can’t kill anyone)

would you rather

this or that

top 5

🍾 writing ask games

wanna ask me about my writing? here’s the chance! send in a “🍾” + a question of your choice or a question from the prompt lists! 

if you send a question from any of the lists, please copy and paste the question in full OR provide the list letter provided below + the number/letter from the list itself. 

list a 🫧 list b 🫧 list c 🫧 list d

🥂 chat with me

got something you wanna rant about? something good happen in your life? wanna just chat about your day? send in a “🥂” emoji + whatever’s on your mind! 

no pressure tags: @golbrockstar @xplrvibes @annab-nana @randomcinnamonpumpkinspice @jakelcckley @purpleshallot @winterbaebucky @tumblin-theworldaway @blackwidownat2814 @the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo​ 

#starrysleepover #starrywrites #starryevermore

[vase-of-lilies]

𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚

Wanda Maximoff 

Natasha Romanoff 

Carol Danvers

Peggy Carter

Bucky Barnes (40’s, Winter Soldier, Civil War Bucky, Recovery/Wakanda Bucky, TFATWS series)

Baron Helmut Zemo (Civil war, TFATWS Series)

(18+) Peter Parker

Loki

Steve Rogers 

Tony Stark

Rocket (platonic)

Groot (platonic)

Charles Blackwood

Steve Kemp

Nick Fowler

Lee Bodecker

Chase Collins

Micky Henry

Chris Beck

Ransom Drysdale

Lloyd Hansen

Ghost (COD)

König (COD)

John Price (COD)

(I know nothing about the COD guys, but they’re a mix of big, burley, masked, deep ass voiced, men:))

Female!Reader

DD/LG & MD/LG

Dark

Smut

Fluff

Angst

Tropes

Non-Con/Dub-Con

Most Kinks

Body Worship

Gore

Whump

Pedophilia

Beastiality (besides occasional hybrid AU’s)

Harsh Degradation (slut, whore, cumbucket, etc.)

Sexual face slapping

Whipping

Bathroom stuff (scat, pee drinking, ect.)

Bimboification

Feet

Step-cest

Incest

Top!Reader (So sorry, I just can’t get in that mindset)

Male!Reader (So sorry, I just can’t get in that mindset)

#guidelines #writing guidlines #request guidelines

[late-to-the-party-81]

Requests Info

Hi all!

If my requests are open, and you wish to make one, please check out this post first.

REQUESTS CURRENTLY CLOSED! (March 2024)

Thanks you for making your request - please note that I reserve the right to not fill requests that I don't vibe with or do not fall within my boundaries.

Ship fics - I happy to write for the following ships

Any combo of the Cap Quartet, be that 2,3 or all 4 of them.

Starker (only with aged up Peter)

Lokius

Various CE/SS characters (e.g. Lloyd x Nick, Ransom x Lance etc.)

Winter Baron

Combos of Poly Avengers

WandaNat

IronFrost

IronStrange

StrangeFrost

X reader fics - I'm happy to write the following characters with a reader insert or OC

Steve

Bucky

Stucky

Sam

Natasha

Valkyrie

Frank Castle

Eddie Brock (with or without Venom)

Loki

Thor

Joaquin

Zemo

Tony

Dr Strange

TASM or MCU Peter Parker

Wanda

Bruce

CE/SS Characters (please check - I'm not familiar with some of the newer ones and will not do Tommy Lee)

Types of reader insert characters I will write

Any gender (including Trans, Enby or GN) but please provide details if you would like details smut, including squicks in terms of vocabulary usage and kinks.

Always racially neutral. I actively avoid mood board pictures that imply race - I will only use pictures like this if I cannot find something else. The race shown in the mood board does not alter the way I write the reader insert.

I do not use Y/N - I will always find some kind of nickname for the reader

Types of fics I write

Smut (soft, explicit and/or kinky - remember the Kink Tomato!)

Angst

Fluff

Slice of life

Action

Dark (Violence and/or Non-Con/Dub-Con)

What I WON'T write

MCD

Underage (I am from the UK - age of consent here is 16. I would never write an adult with someone of that age, but would write two people of about that age together.)

Scat or Golden Showers (Omoroshi is a bit different - please ask)

Snuff

Incest (that includes Thorki)

Requests can be for new, original fics, or for a continuation of any of my one-shots or series. Please note that if you use the anon function I will not be able to clarify your wants with you or notify you when a story is posted. Anons are allowed though.

When my requests are open, they will be fulffilled and and when the muse and real life allows. Fics will be as long or short as the muse dictates.

If requests are closed, (or even if they are open) please do send asks about my current series - you never know - it may spark something.

#requests #fic requests #late to the party 81 #request info

[the-writing-pigeon]

Here is everything that I write for. When requests open, please remember that I have the right to decline a request if I feel uncomfortable.

Bucky Barnes (All Buckies included!)

Baron Helmut Zemo (All Zemos included!)

Peter Parker (College era)

Loki

Steve Rogers 

Tony Stark

Wanda Maximoff 

Natasha Romanoff 

Carol Danvers

Rocket (platonic)

Groot (platonic)

Sebastian Stan:

Charles Blackwood

Nick Fowler

Steve Kemp

Lee Bodecker

Jefferson (Once Upon A Time)

Chase Collins

Max (Sharper)

"God" (Ghosted)

Micky Henry

Chris Beck

Chris Evans:

Ransom Drysdale

Lloyd Hansen

Other:

Ghost (COD)

König (COD)

Heath Ledger!Joker

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Lucian Vanserra (My favorite character 😍)

Feyre Archeron

Rhysand

Azriel

Cassian

Mor

Amarantha

King Hybern

Tamlin (even though he’s a bitch)

Amren

Eris Vanserra

Female!Reader (All of my f!readers are AFAB)

Age Regression

(Both of above and below are completely separate and I know the difference)

DD/LG & MD/LG

Dark Stories + Dark Characters

Smut

Most kinks (I will specify what I do not write)

Fluff

Angst

Tropes

Non-Con/Dub-Con

Gore

Whump

Pedophillia of any kind

Degradation (unless in a darker fic)

Bimbofication

Bathroom stuff

Beastiality (Hybrids are ok!)

Sexual face slapping

Bathroom stuff (scat, pee drinking, ect.)

Bimboification

Any weird fetishes (Feet, race, sexuality, etc.)

Step-cest

Incest

Top!Reader

Male!Reader (I do sincerely apologize, I just can not get in that headspace)

RPF (Real people fiction)

#request guidelines #pigeon posting* #writing guidelines

[ao3feed-sambucky]

Placed Under the Tree with Care

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Ck9DAfj by Kori_Rua Bucky looked over at Sam and noticed that he looked glum, and Sam shrugged his shoulders and looked towards the fire, the light catching in his dark eyes and making them sparkle. “Just thinking about my sister and nephews. I was hoping to spend Christmas with them. Not that you guys are bad company or anything; I just miss ‘em.” Zemo nods his head sagely. “The holidays can be a rough time to miss one’s family.” There is silence again for a moment and then Zemo suddenly makes a loud noise of delight and sits forward in his chair. Bucky and Sam startle and Sam gives Zemo a wary look, taking in the feverish excitement in the baron’s eyes. Zemo’s claps his hands together and smiles wide. “I have a wonderful idea! Let's celebrate Christmas together. We can get a tree and decorate the house. I’ll buy us presents and it will be just like old times.” Bucky looks at Zemo skeptically, but Sam seems on board with the idea as he smiles back at Zemo. “I think that would be fun.”   Zemo has the perfect gift for Bucky and Sam on Christmas Eve Words: 3395, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Fandoms: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Helmut Zemo, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Oeznik (Marvel) Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Helmut Zemo, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson/Helmut Zemo, Sam Wilson/Helmut Zemo Additional Tags: POV Bucky Barnes, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Christmas Eve, Christmas Tree, Christmas Decorations, Nebulous Zemo Parole Universe | Helmut Zemo Paroled from the Raft, Flirting, hand holding, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Bucky Barnes Feels, Soft Helmut Zemo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Ck9DAfj

#Bucky #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #James Barnes #Falcon #SamBucky #BuckySam #IFTTT #ao3feed

[mypoisonedvine]

Hi hello I keep thinking about somnophilia with Zemo mix in some breeding kink and hnnng

mannn I wanna make this as dark as possible so we're gonna get wild with this one... warnings for noncon (somnophilia, duh), drugging, breeding kink, brief reference to abortion, implied kidnapping/forced marriage and zemo being The Worst

You really should've known better than to accept a drink that Baron Helmut Zemo offered you.

But, in your defense, it seemed like a peace offering at the time, and you were trying to be a good teammate to Sam and Bucky by tolerating this guy even though he gave you the creeps.

"Cherry blossom tea?" he proposed as he extended a mug to you, the dark pink liquid inside steaming and warming your face.

"Thank you," you nodded, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed over his when you took the drink from his hands.

The drug wasn't fast-acting, because that wasn't what it was meant for. It was meant to keep you sedated through almost any stimulation, but to pass through your system undetected; to you, it would seem like a normal night of sleep.

In fact, it almost looked like normal sleep when Zemo snuck into your room that night, making him almost worry that it hadn't taken effect. Except, of course, that he trusted the chemistry and he suspected that he couldn't have even opened your bedroom door without waking you if you were unaffected. He just worried simply because the stakes were so high if he got caught.

A small part of him almost wanted to get caught, though, even if he knew Sam or James wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they found him using you in this way. Honestly, even if you were alert and consenting they would probably still kill him for it. But it might be fun to watch them realise what he had done to you.

And you... if you knew the ways he was going to defile you, you would be horrified. And as gratifying as that could be to some, the truth was that the Baron would rather see you submit than struggle. He longed to see your smile, to feel your touch and return it in a way that was wanted. But, knowing that was impossible, he had to resort to other means.

Further, he had purpose for you far beyond gratification. See, after careful consideration, Helmut had realized that you would be the perfect candidate to carry a new heir. And even in a world where he could seduce you, he certainly couldn't get you to be bred willingly. No, his best bet was to impregnate you now, secretly, and do his best to make sure that by the time you found out, you were too attached to terminate. Or, perhaps, too imprisoned to be able to do anything but become his new and unwilling-but-convincable Baroness.

Of course, if he wanted to be especially inconspicuous, he could artificially inseminate you. But the natural way was going to be a lot more fun.

He slipped into bed with you, absorbed the warmth of you as he held your pliant body in his arms. You were distinctly and firmly unconscious, your breathing steady and your heartbeat strong if slow. He surprised himself with the way he was drawn to your sleeping form, to the neutral expression on your face. He was so used to seeing you scowl or glare at him, it was nice to see you like this.

"Draga," he mumbled to you as he pulled you closer, rolling you onto your back and finding a place between your legs. You only slept in a sports bra and underwear, a sight that had him hard in an instant even before he began to carefully undress you.

With your body fully exposed to him, he found you already a bit wet and wondered if you'd had a filthy dream earlier in the night... or if you'd been having naughty thoughts during the day. Honestly, with the way you acted so shy and anxious around him, he sort of suspected your disdain for him was not based only in fear but in an arousal that you hated. But he couldn't blame you... you were attracted to power. You knew he had that, and you couldn't forget it.

He slowly rubbed your clit with his thumb, watching you sleep soundly beneath him, feeling your cunt get warmer and wetter by the second. Two fingers into your channel made him force his eyes shut with a sigh to try to compose himself.

"You're tight, darling," he hissed into the silent air of the night. "Fuck, I hope I'll fit. If I hurt you too much you'll wake up sore tomorrow, and we can't have you fighting out about little baby Zemo until you're too far along for the pill, yes?"

Obviously, he didn't need to talk at all during this... but it sort of came naturally. It was nice to speak to you uninterrupted, for once.

"I'm going to get you ready for me, I'll be delicate with you, draga," he promised in a groan, twisting his fingers within you. "Believe it or not, I really have no desire to hurt you."

Your body shifted slightly and his heart raced for a second at the idea that you might be waking up. But instead you stayed asleep, though your mouth fell slack into a little sigh.

"Oh, can you feel it? Even in your sleep?" he wondered aloud with a smirk. "You like how my fingers feel inside you..."

He curled them again and another sleepy moan left you.

"I need to fuck you. I need to hear you moan for my cock," he grunted as he bent down and positioned himself at your entrance. Just pressing against you was nearly overwhelming, you were so warm he could hardly stand it. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been inside a woman... it would've been his wife, all those years ago, and the memory was so distant that it felt like trying to remember a dream.

But you were here, you were alive, you were real. And as he pushed his hips forward, he couldn't help but moan because you felt like heaven.

"Fuck," he hissed, looking down and seeing your eyes almost flutter, hearing you whimper slightly. "It won't be long, draga, I need to finish inside you. But I wish it could last forever..."

Considering the way your body responded to him so eagerly, considering how many years he had been alone and celibate even to the most innocent of touches, considering how quickly he had become enamored with you despite your clear hatred for him, it was a wonder he lasted as long as he did, but it was definitely not anywhere near forever. He held you close and kissed you everywhere he could reach, burying his face in the crook of your neck and breathing the warm, sweet scent of you until he was pumping every drop as deep into you as he could go. Once he was sure you were full to the brim, he still stayed within you for quite some time... after all, he had nowhere else he needed to be, and nowhere he wanted to be more than holding you.

When he pulled out, finally, after what must have been hours, he dressed you again and tried to erase what evidence he could of his presence.

Of course, his come leaking out of you was a pretty strong piece of evidence, but he had a plan for that.

"You had a dream," he whispered to you, indulging himself in softly kissing your ear, "about the Baron. Maybe you want to pretend that you don't know why, but you do. The dream left you so wet and desperate that you made this precious little mess in your panties, that's all, nothing else."

...hey, I never said it was a good plan, but it was still the only one he had.

He left your room as quietly as he entered it, making a quick stop by the kitchen to thoroughly wash the mug you had used for your tea, lest you suspect something and take the time to test it somehow.

But the way your eyes dodged him the next morning, the way you were suddenly all out of snide remarks and sickened glares, made it clear that you really had dreamed of him. Maybe you dreamed of him even before he entered your room, but he would never know that for sure.

What he did know for sure was that even if the chances were somewhat slim that you were carrying his heir, he was going to take you for himself the absolute second that he had the chance, and make absolutely sure that you were. You were going to make a lovely wife, once you realised he was never going to let you go.

#dark!baron zemo x reader #dark!helmut zemo x reader #dark!baron zemo smut #saturday night sleepover

[morguevampire]

(Un) Fortunate Encounters -Chapter 1

Masterlist for this fic

summary:  You already had enough shit to deal with in your life and probably could have done without bumping into a wanted Sokovian terrorist/criminal by accident. Of course this random encounter had to turn into a whole new mess but could it perhaps turn into something beautiful?

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of torture, drinking, mild alcoholism, dark themes, slow build romance, not really Stockholm syndrome but that’s up for interpretation 

chapters: 1/?

word count: 1.062k 

pairings: Helmut Zemo x fem!Reader

author’s note: Hallöchen und Willkommen zurück!  I haven't posted anything in ages but I suppose I am back with quite a challenge for myself: a multi-chapter Zemo fic? I will try my best to actually finish this story and post (semi) regularly - in case people are actually interested. Please excuse the kind of cryptic summary. I have the story more or less planned out but I am quite spontaneous so I might just switch stuff around. Already working on the next two chapters tho :)

 As always, English is not my mother tongue so I am happy for any corrections concerning spelling, grammar and general sense-making. Also let me know what you think in general and if you are interested at all in me continuing this work. Thank you and Tschüsseldorf

You can also find this work on https://archiveofourown.org/works/43158162/chapters/108466263

Chapter One: Strangers

It must have been last Tuesday, you recall, while one of the detectives presses play on the security footage that they are showing you. You were storming out of the bank, you somehow managed to block your credit card and you were in a rush since you had to go fix it during your lunch break. God forbid you took an absence from work for stuff like this, your boss was an asshole.

You bumped into a guy on your way out, which you didn’t even fully register but apparently it was the worst thing you could have done because you’re currently sitting in an interrogation room of the fucking FBI because of it. The two detectives not so quietly knocked on your door this morning, all but dragging you out of your apartment – you were seen with a wanted criminal and brought in for questioning, while your apartment was being searched by forensics.

It’s now been almost two hours of “How do you know Baron Helmut Zemo?” and “What did he say to you?”. He apparently escaped prison again and was on the run leaving basically no traces. You told them time and time again that yeah, you knew who he was… from the news… but that you really didn’t recognize him bumping into you and had already forgotten the encounter a minute after it happened, so caught up in your own shitshow of a life. At least after the 10th time of trying to make it clear that you did not KNOW the guy they followed a different strategy in questioning you.

“Please, Miss, close your eyes for us and try to recall the moment. We really need details to get a lead on finding the bastard.”

You did as you were told. It was difficult; the fluorescent lights of the room already giving you a headache and the atmosphere rigid and uncomfortable but you really tried going back to that moment in your mind.

You remembered rushing out of the door of the bank. Not too many people were around. You were looking at your phone, checking the time to see you needed to be back at work in 10 minutes when suddenly you full on pumped into a guy in a dark purple sweater and gray baseball cap. Your phone slipped out of your hand and you remember that he bent down to pick it up at the same time as you. He mumbled a quiet “apologies”. He was quicker to grab your phone, handing it to you with a simple “Are you ok?” while intensely staring at your face, slightly tilting his head. Remembering now you could probably verify he had an accent, but it could have also just been that you now knew that a Sokovian terrorist asked you that question. You mumbled a quick “yeah, yeah no worries” and got up quickly. In your memory the exchange lasted maybe a few seconds but seeing it on the security footage it seemed to take ages until you were on your feet again heading away from the man. He even turned around to watch you storm off and quickly disappeared himself.

You could kind of understand why the FBI was suspicious about the encounter but you really did not have any useful information. Eventually, in combination with the lack of evidence in your apartment, they recognized you were a dead end and let you leave, simply warning you to stay in the country and to tell them should you remember anything useful.

************************

Once you got home you collapsed on your couch. The apartment felt strange, knowing just mere hours ago a team of men in white suits basically took it apart, looking for any kind of evidence that tied you to the man that bombed the UN.

You let out a big sigh that turned into a grunt and rubbed your eyes. You were exhausted and pissed off and maybe also a little bit scared. You couldn’t shake the feeling off that this wasn’t a simple accidental running into some stranger. This man was a mastermind. A villain. He had the brains to take out the avengers and yet he makes the mistake of bumping into some random woman all while getting caught on a security camera. What was he even doing at the bank?

Thoughts kept circling around in your head and what’s the thing a mindful, responsible adult with a good coping mechanism does in that situation? Pour a glass of wine and do some research on google. At least it was Friday night, so you had the whole weekend to come up with weird conclusions and maybe take one or the other semi-drunk nap. You opened your browser and in a Bella from Twilight kind of way simply googled “Helmut Zemo”. Random articles popped up, some pictures of him during his arrest and as with any brutal criminal there was of course a whole community of people romanticizing him. You looked down on his “fans” for justifying his actions but did you blame them for finding Helmut Zemo attractive – not really. You had to recall how he looked at your face while picking up your phone, brown eyes staring intensely into your own while a deep, quiet voice asked you if you were ok. And that’s when you shut your laptop and slumped back in your seat, groaning once again because what the fuck. Were you really that desperate and deprived of attention from the male species that you would let your thoughts go into that direction. No. It was time for bed, even if that just meant staring at the ceiling for however long it took exhaustion to overpower your restless mind.

The next morning you couldn’t really remember how you got into your pajamas or whether you brushed your teeth but your mind was still full of images of him. Coffee should help, you figured. You stared absently at your little Italian moka pot, contemplating the day’s activities when a loud crash suddenly erupted. Almost as if somebody just smashed down your front door. You startled, froze on the spot and became extremely scared. Was it the FBI again? Have they found something after all? Something that you weren’t even aware of? You were just about to turn around when something heavy hit the back of your head.

And everything went back.

#Helmut Zemo #Helmut Zemo x Reader #Helmut Zemo & Reader #Helmut Zemo fanfiction #MCU #Helmut Zemo x you #Baron Zemo #Baron Zemo x reader #TFAWS

[earlgreydream]

abandoned.

| zemo x reader | smut |

dark!zemo

cw: highly dubcon (kinda noncon), abduction, mentions of torture, forced breeding, dark!zemo, lactation kink

“You think you’re something, no?” The mocking laughter was dripping in cruelty.

You bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood. Your eyes stayed trained on a crack in the floor a few feet ahead of where you were kneeling on cold cement.

You didn’t react when a hand cracked across your face, knocking you to the side, trying to pull an answer out of you.

“They’ll come for me. The avengers won’t leave me, they’ll come back for me!” You spat, looking up into cold brown eyes. They were empty, soulless in fact. His gaze iced your soul, sending a chill down your spine.

“My darling, not even god himself can save you now,” he sneered.

“Fuck. You.”

“You’ll join us, Y/N. You’ll become well acquainted with your villains when you realize there’s no other option.”

You should your head, screaming against the gag that was shoved in your mouth, silencing your vengeful yells.

. . .

Months. You had been abandoned for months.

After being abducted on a mission in Sokovia, your team had never returned for you. Or if they had, they never found you.

You’d been locked in a cold, cement chamber. You were left alone, only fed and given water as little as necessary.

Helmut Zemo was determined to break you.

. . .

Three months later, the door opened, light pouring onto the cement floor.

“Submit to me, and I’ll let you out of this cage,” Zemo knelt down, his thin lips curving into a lopsided smile.

“You’ve spent months here in this filth. Don’t you want to be cleaned up and fed and doted on? You are so pointlessly resistant.”

“Please get me out of here,” you begged weakly.

All of your resolve had crumbled. Your team never saved you, and you were all out of options. The only thing standing between you and getting out of this cell was your own stubbornness, and you were ready to give it up.

You felt like your mind was fracturing, and you were left numb, pliant for the sadistic baron. You decided you didn’t care what “submit to me” meant— as anything would be better than your current situation.

A leather-gloved hand was held out to you as chains were removed from your wrists. You hesitated before taking it, letting the baron pull you to your feet.

That was the first time you realized how much bigger Zemo was than you. He was tall, broad, and strong, with a dominating presence that overpowered you.

And cold, empty eyes.

. . .

You didn’t know which was worse: being in a solitary dark cell, or being Zemo’s toy, decorated and attached to his side like a pet.

You’d gotten so used to the feeling of his hands on your body, you almost craved it. You were starved for affection, for touch, for interaction, and Zemo was the one satiating your needs.

“Come here, little one.” 

You rose from your seat on the chair in the corner, approaching Zemo. He was lounging on his bed in a white bathrobe, an arm tucked behind his bed. The baron watched you walk over to him, having no reason to disobey. You’d abandoned all of your resolve, and you went to his side when asked. 

If you behaved, he didn’t torture you. You’d learned after your first attempted escape, you were far better off just doing as he asked. When you obeyed Zemo, you were awarded the liberty of being dressed and fed, and he wasn’t violent with you. 

You flinched when he reached up and touched your face, turning your head away. 

“Get on the bed.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, opening your eyes to look at your captor. 

“Get in the bed on your own, or I will force you.”

You crawled onto the mattress, letting him push you onto your back. It seemed to appease him a bit, because he lifted your hips and put a pillow under you, carefully smoothing his hands up your legs. 

“Aren’t you going to get a condom?” you asked weakly as he dropped his robe and pulled your knees apart. You’d stopped resisting, looking up at the blond in concern.

“No, my darling, I’m going to breed this little body of yours, and let you carry my heir,” he said, making your body feel frozen. You couldn’t swallow the knot that swelled in your throat, choking on the fear his words instilled in you. 

“Don’t cry. You’re going to look gorgeous when you swell with life,” Zemo said, sliding his hands up your body and kneading your breasts roughly.

“And these... My heir may have to share,” he growled, lightly biting your skin. 

“Zemo, Zemo, please. Get someone else, I don’t...” you sobbed, weakly pushing at his chest. He gripped your wrists in one hand, easily overpowering you with his size. 

You despised how good of a fuck he was. He filled you perfectly, even more so when he wasn’t protected. You tried to block out who it was, just feeling another warm body. 

Zemo at least had the grace to make you come first. 

It made your body relax around him, clouding your mind with happy chemicals as he emptied his seed in you, buried so deep he was practically shooting into your cervix. 

He didn’t let you up, forcing you to lay with your hips elevated, staying buried deep in your sex. He hushed you, though not harshly. 

“I know it’s frightening, but just take it. Be my brave girl, Y/N.”

“You’re sick.”

“Oh, darling, you don’t know the depths of my depravity.”

You didn’t doubt him.

. . . 

Zemo had been informed by several of his employees that you wouldn’t stop crying, and they kept asking to sedate you. He’d harshly declined, reminding them of your pregnancy. 

Finally, he left his work, going to see what the problem was. Since you’d been carrying his child, you’d become more docile, and even less resistant to him, as if the part of him growing inside of you had plunged you fully into stockholm syndrome. 

“Y/N. Whatever is the matter?” Zemo entered his chambers, which had become yours as well. 

You looked up at him, wrapped in a knitted blanket, curled up on the corner of his couch. He knelt down in front of you, and an outsider may have thought he was caring. Really, he was worried about his heir, your extreme stress becoming problematic. You didn’t matter to him.

“You will answer me, unless you want to sit back in that cell.”

“I’m lactating too early and it hurts,” you confessed in embarrassment, tears spilling past your waterline. 

Zemo pulled your shirt off of you, freeing you from the constraining fabric. You let him inspect you, begging softly for help.

“Please do something, I’m in pain,” you begged, choking on your words.

He hummed, having half a mind to let you sit and weep. He watched you for a moment before an alternative came to mind. 

“Come here,” he commanded, sitting beside you. 

He helped you onto his lap, easing you to straddle him. He carefully squeezed your breast, earning a pained whine. Nothing happened at first, and you squirmed in discomfort. You cried out when milk started to drip from you, easing the painful pressure. 

“Zemo?” you questioned softly in embarrassment as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking the milk into his mouth. 

You were horrified, but you couldn’t deny him as the pain began to dissipate. It was terribly arousing, and you carded your fingers through his hair, your dark, twisted, unhinged lover. 

When he moved to the other one, you had stopped crying, soothed by the relief from pressure and pain that had been plaguing you for days. 

“Better?” Zemo asked, pinching you enough to hurt. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“I expect you to be good for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

#earl grey zemo #zemo #baron zemo #zemo oneshot #zemo smut #zemo x reader #zemo x reader smut #dark!zemo #helmut zemo #marvel #marvel au #avengers #avengers au #zemo imagine #fatws #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #female reader