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#helmut zemo au
v4mp1res3verywhere · 2 years
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pov you’re at an Italian cafe with a man in a black turtleneck talking about Dante’s inferno over a cappuccino and a cigarette
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lettalady · 1 year
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The Long Journey Home: The Baron & The Dove
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Read 1-11 of The Long Journey Home. Then? Let's change the story.
We’re changing up things this time, my darlings. No waiting [for indeterminate lengths of time] for the next chapter and what is to follow. The entire story is posted! Did I have far too much fun fixing what I will never forgive Helmut for in LJH proper? Yes. Am I the least bit sorry for any of what you’re going to read? Not in the slightest.
Prepare yourself and then
[ find the story on AO3 ]
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fleshtonyart · 6 months
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The King’s Favor(ite) ✨🎗️👑
Details under the cut
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wintereyed · 3 months
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Oh, dear diary, I met a boy
He made my doll heart light up with joy
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hannibal-solos · 7 months
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The Bloody Baron: Chapter 3
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Victorian Vampire!AU
Series Rating: Explicit 18+, Minors DNI
Word count: 3.1k
Chapter Warnings: Smut, Oral (f receiving), Brief descriptions of blood, vampire feeding
Masterlist
You feel him move to stand in front of you, tears escaping from behind closed eyelids. If a thin layer of skin was your last line of defense, then so be it. You’d keep your eyes shut as long as you’re able. He wants control? He’ll have to fight you for it. 
“Do you really think…” You feel him press himself against you, hands oh so gently cupping your face, the ghost of his breath whisping across your nose and cheeks. 
“That you can keep your eyes shut forever, little one?”
“Baron Zemo, what a delightful surprise!” 
Your heart rate increases as you hear the voice of an older gentleman nearby. You don’t move, stock still in his embrace, facing the alter. 
“Open your eyes, liebling, or I’ll drain the old man dry.” He hisses against your ear. 
Your eyes snap open, darting to the owner of the voice: a kindly old man, dressed in his church robes. He smiles at you both congenially, making his way to where you stand. 
You keep your eyes on him, doing your best to smile even though your cheeks are likely tear-stained by now. 
“Ah, reverend. It has been too long.” You feel Zemo’s eyes on you, burning holes into the side of your face. 
The reverend shuffles closer, enough to clap a hand on the Baron’s back, the other shaking his hand heartily. 
“We have missed having you at our services, but we do understand how busy you are! Now sir, are you going to introduce me to this lovely young woman?” 
You do your best to shyly look at the ground, biting your lip to appear embarrassed rather than risk meeting the Baron’s gaze. 
To your horror, his hand comes into view, tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are downright predatory, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk as if to say gotcha. 
“This–” he stares into your soul. “Is my lovely fiance.” 
The reverend gives a joyful shout, clapping his hands together with glee. 
“Congratulations sir, a happy occasion indeed! When is the wedding?”
“We hadn’t decided yet, you know how overwhelming planning these things can get, She wanted to seek solace in the church to help settle her nerves.” 
You turn to smile at the reverend, wiping your tears away with your sleeve– hoping you embody the essence of a near-hysterical bride-to-be being comforted by her loving fiance. 
“I do apologize reverend, it was all just too much– I felt the need to be somewhere free of all the questions of gowns, menus, and invitation lists for a few hours.”
The Baron all but crushes you into a hug, placing a firm but gentle kiss to the top of your head. 
“It was good to see you, reverend, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to get the future Baroness home and into bed. It’s been an awfully long day for her.” 
I have a feeling it’s going to be an awfully long night as well. You think with a grimace, pressed into Zemo’s embrace. 
“Of course, of course! I do hope you feel better soon dear, I promise it all gets much easier with time!” 
Without much effort Zemo turns you in his arms so you’re both facing the exit, quickly making your way back down the steps of the church, and onto the busy street. 
You do your best to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, anything to keep your mind from succumbing to blind panic. As you walk, you make eye contact with the gentleman who helped escort you into the church. You avert your gaze as quickly as possible, shame burning your body from the inside. 
You feel a tug on your arm, and faster than you can blink, you’re in an adjacent alleyway, the Baron looming over you– hand wrapped around your throat while he uses the other to lean against the wall, caging you in. 
Wide-eyed with terror, you glance back at the alley entrance and open your mouth to scream out of instinct, only to feel the pressure from the Baron’s hand swiftly cut off your air supply. 
“Look at me, liebe,” he growls into your ear. “I admire your willpower but you’ll find it’s no match for my own. How long do you think you can last before you pass out? Do not let stubbornness lead you to stupidity.”
All too soon the spots are dancing in front of your vision once more. You’re clawing at his wrist in desperation, his iron grip on your throat never faltering as you feel his breath against the side of your face. 
Self-preservation kicks in, and you shift your head so you're looking at him once more, his crimson eyes gazing down at you with fury. 
“Good girl.” His grip relents–allowing you to sputter for breath–but he does not remove his hand from your throat. 
His eyes rake over your form, appraising you. 
“I must say, you got much farther than I’d imagined. But your greatest advantage was also your downfall: your friends helped keep me on your trail.” 
You feel your heart ready to burst out of your chest, a faint line of sweat appearing on your forehead. 
Oh god, Wade, Vanessa, Agatha, what have I done– 
“You needn't worry, no harm has come to any of them. Yet. Although perhaps I should pay a visit to the handsome young Vicar who laid his hands on you, hmm?” 
“He’s–he’s just a kind stranger who believed he was doing a good deed, nothing more– I swear to it!” You stutter out as best you can, hoping to spare him. 
“Hmmmm.” He hums as he gives your neck a light squeeze once more, using his gloved hand to turn your face this way and that, examining you. 
Your gaze is locked upon his own, terrified that if you look away he’ll cut off your air once more. He seems to have come to a conclusion of sorts, as his blood-red gaze snaps back to your own, lips curling to reveal sharp fangs once more. 
“Perhaps I was too kind in my previous offer. I’m going to mark you so thoroughly that there will never be any doubts as to who you belong to.” 
His hand moves to your hair and then slowly, too slowly, he tilts your head to the side, before sinking his teeth into your neck once more. He moves at a snail’s pace, almost savoring your pained whimpers as he laps up the blood that flows from the wound. 
You’re openly weeping by the time he’s finished feeding, terrified gaze now upon his own once more, blood dripping down his chin. 
“Now, give me a kiss, libeling.” 
At his compulsion you find yourself leaning into his touch, his hand still in your hair as you press your lips to his–doing your best to ignore the lingering taste of your blood on his mouth. He deepens the kiss, licking into your mouth ardently, as if he wished to fill every corner of your mouth with the mix of your essences. An internal battle rages as you scream inside your mind for you to stop this, stop enjoying this! But the inner voice is drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears. 
He pulls away gently, one hand still fisted in your hair as the other grips your chin, allowing him to move your face so he can lick the last remnants of blood away from your shared kiss. 
To your surprise, he uses his teeth to remove one of his gloves, and bites into his own wrist, bringing the fresh wound to your lips. 
“Drink.” 
Your lips attach to his wrist, drinking, licking, and sucking from it like a woman possessed. The pain from both his teeth and his hand on your throat seemed to subside almost instantly, the ache in your feet gone, replaced with a kind of euphoria burning through you. 
“Enough.”  You stop, un-latching your mouth from his wrist, eyes wide. 
It was as if the blood from his veins had been strong red wine shooting straight to your head, and you were a drunkard, ready to beg for the next few drops of heaven. You sway slightly, your whole world off-balance. 
“What…” You have trouble finding your tongue. Too many questions race through your mind. What was what? What’s happening to me? What’s going to happen to me? 
He chuckles lowly, bringing your attention back to his handsome face. Your eyes linger longer than would be termed decent, but you can’t seem to help yourself. Your initial attraction to him has been magnified, and while the fear still lingered at the base of your skull, desire was at the forefront now. 
“Now you’ve tasted me just as I’ve tasted you. We’re bonded by blood, little one. All that you feel, I feel. And you will feel as I do, only less so.” 
Your mind races. Was the desire you were feeling his or your own? Or some sort of lethal concoction of mutual attraction you’d been trying to avoid? Trying to tamp down in the name of sense and rationality since the fateful moment you’d first encountered each other? 
He steps closer to you once more, eyes never leaving your own. 
“I know what it is that you want. That you crave. Give yourself to me fully, little one. I can give you all that you desire, and more. More than you could have ever dreamed of, if you’ll only call yourself mine and mine alone. To deny yourself these pleasures is to needlessly extend your mental anguish day by day, craving what you believe you should not have, should not desire. Destroy what you were, and give yourself over to what you can become.” He leans down so his nose touches your own, so close you can feel his breath from his lips leave to mingle with your own. His eyes are brown once more, no longer that haunting shade of red. He’s asking you. And you’re running out of reasons why you should say no. With money, title, land, you’d be able to help your friends. Never have to worry about where your next meal was coming from, or about how you were going to make next month’s rent. 
You chose life that night in the manor. So why not let yourself live?
“Yes,” you whisper, so lowly you were unsure you’d even said it out loud. 
His smile is wolfish and genuine as he leans down to capture your mouth in a searing kiss. Your arms move to wrap around his neck as he effortlessly scoops your legs up, locking them around his waist. 
The kiss is all-consuming, your combined desires only feeding the fire in your lower abdomen as you unconsciously grind yourself against him. He growls into the kiss, and steps back from the wall with you still wrapped around him. You’re about to pull away from him when you feel a rush of wind. When you open your eyes, you’re back in his home, with Zemo kicking the door open with a polished boot. Another wisp of air later and you’re in a grand bedroom, you can only assume it’s his. 
You don’t have time to gather your bearings as he drops you onto the plush mattress. Your hair scattered around you like a halo he was determined to knock off your head, cap lost somewhere in the lightning-fast journey from the church alley to his room. He crawls over you from the end of the bed, looking every inch the predator you know him to be, eyes red and mischievous. You hastily kick your shoes off, and remove the old cardigan, tossing it to the side. He leans over you, reaching for the collar of your shirt. You gasp as he rips it in two without much effort, exposing your heaving chest to his hungry gaze. 
He wastes no time in taking one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud before very gently taking it between his teeth. His hand sets upon your other breast, mimicking the motions of his tongue by rolling and lightly pinching it between his fingers. 
He makes his way downwards, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes–until he reaches the waistband of your borrowed trousers. Rather than rip them, he has the fly undone before you can blink, pulling them down your legs hastily, and eyeing your panty-clad sex with renewed hunger. 
The drone of your blood in your ears is downright maddening, you can hardly think, hardly breathe with his face that close to your core. This wasn’t a new experience to you, but his intense gaze coupled with your mingled desires made you shy away from it. 
“Ah, ah.” He tuts, following it with a sharp nip on your thigh. You startle at the love bite, and look back down at him, face hot with embarrassment. 
“Eyes on me, shatz. Don’t hide from your desire.” 
Your heart thumps wildly against your ribcage as you watch him slowly delve between your legs, gasping when he licks a broad stripe up your cunt. 
“I can feel how desperate you are for it, little one. Is all this for me?” He asks, that insufferably attractive cocky grin making an appearance once more. 
Any witty remark you’d had loaded dies in your throat as he turns his attention to your clit. 
“Yes,” you sigh out, breathless. “All for you, only you.” 
You’re fighting to keep your eyes on him, to stay coherent, while he looks like he’s enjoying a gourmet meal between your legs–insatiable in the pursuit of your pleasure. 
All too soon you’re reaching your high, coming apart with his mouth still firmly attached to your sex. You instinctively reach for his hair, and he lets out a groan as you tug at the luscious strands. 
He unlatches himself from you and brings himself to face level, leaving open-mouthed kisses until he reaches your lips–tongue diving into your mouth to let you taste yourself once more. 
Removing your hands from his hair, you trail them over his chest, down, and under his shirt as he lets you remove it with a twinkle in his eyes. You feel a pang of shyness as you reach for his belt, and his hands cover your own, guiding you in its removal. 
With a hammering heart, you reach into his trousers to remove his member, gasping at the heat of it when your hand makes contact. He must be growing impatient, as his trousers are gone in the blink of an eye, your hand still firmly wrapped around him, beginning to gently pump, applying light pressure that makes him hiss through his teeth. You’re overcome with the urge to lick it, to once again taste him as he’s tasted you–but he interrupts your pursuit, and you whine. 
“Next time, little one. We’ve both waited long enough, wouldn’t you say?” 
All you can do is nod, entranced once again by his eyes, his lips, his chest. 
He chuckles wryly, before giving you a searing kiss, all teeth and tongues. You’re trying to catch your breath when he pulls away, and he moves to position himself behind you. With one hand on your waist and the other in your hair, you feel the light scrape of his fangs over your neck, but the fear is gone, only desire remains. 
“Should you feel pain you do not want, tell me. Whether through the bond or with your words. I expect you to be vocal for me, little one. I want to hear your pleasure as well as feel it. Understood?” 
You nod enthusiastically, the anticipation washing over you and threatening to drag you under. 
He tuts, and gives your hair a slight yank. 
“Use your words.” 
“Yes, I understand, sir.” 
“Helmut, little one. That’s the name you’re to cry out when I make you fall apart over, and over again. You’ll be using it more than once before the sun comes up.” 
“He-Helmut” you manage to stutter out as he bottoms out inside of you, allowing you only the faintest of moments to adjust before he sets a punishing pace. The hand that was in your hair moves to grip your throat, keeping your back flush against his chest as he takes his pleasure from you; his hand around your throat lightly gripping but never fully squeezing: a lingering reminder of your promise to him.  
The pleasure is unlike any other you’ve experienced: he seems to know exactly what you want, what you need without having to say it–his own desire mingles with yours in a way that’s almost unexplainable. You can tell he’s trying to hold back from hurting you, afraid of breaking you in his pursuit of pleasure, so you turn your face to him to capture his lips in a messy kiss, hand reaching up to cup his jaw. 
When you part lips once more, you whisper: 
“I’m yours, Helmut. All that you have to give, I can take it.” 
He must sense the truth in your words, as his crimson eyes flash before he pushes your face into the mattress quickly, hands moving to bruise your hips as he sets a downright painful pace that leaves you clawing the sheets as you feel his pleasure mix with your pain. 
You can feel through your bond that he must be close to his climax, as he reaches forward to bring you flush to him once more, one of his hands coming to rub practiced circles on your clit while the other tangles in your hair, craning your neck and exposing the column of your throat to him. 
“Mine. Just as I am yours,” he whispers. 
He places a heated kiss to your throat before sinking his fangs into your neck, and insurmountable pleasure rocks through you, as if your own ecstasy had mixed with Helmut’s and was now washing over you in wave after wave of euphoria. 
His hips begin to stutter as he reaches his own climax, spilling inside of you. He stills, fangs lingering in your neck, lapping up the blood as it trickles out of the wound. Slowly, he removes his fangs, and licks away every errant drop from your shoulders, your neck, your breasts. 
You’re utterly exhausted, sleep beginning to tug at your eyelids already. He chuckles and brings you to lay against his chest, your core still fluttering around him with aftershocks. 
“Sleep, little one. You have a long day ahead of you.” 
You begin to drift off in his arms as his thumb gently strokes your pulse point. 
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emptymidnight · 10 months
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Flying in with a little late birthday gift for @zsparz . Thank you for always being such a wonderful fandom cheerleader as well as a great friend. I hope you like it ♥️
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hobbit-in-space · 3 months
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In The Summertime 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, power imbalance, grooming behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your father’s best friend gives you a job for the summer, but he’s not so interested in your work ethic.
Character: dbf!Helmut Zemo
Note: This just sits in my drafts.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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The doorbell chirps and draws you from the reverie of your fictional paradise. You set the bookmark between the pages and put down the book, rounding the counter mindlessly as your thoughts linger on the fearless heroine’s next move. You don’t think about how late it is or that you can hear the kettle starting to quake. You’d almost forgot the very reason you’d ended up in the kitchen.
You open the door a crack and peek out. You smile and let it fall ajar.
“Dr. Zemo,” you greet, “how are you?”
“Oh, you’re back,” he says, “I’m very fine, my dear, I didn’t know you’d returned. How are you? How is school?”
“Yep! Came back for summer break. I’m doing okay. Catching up on some reading,” you answer, “my dad’s not here. He texted though, he should be back soon.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you so late, I can always come by tomorrow,” he assures, “I suppose I was overly eager. I get some thought in my mind and must see it through at the very moment.”
“You can wait for him,” you say as the kettle begins to whistle, “I was just making some tea if you want some.”
“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully, “perhaps I might before my purpose runs away from me.”
You step back and let him in. He is not a stranger to your father’s modest home. You watch him shed his blazer and hang it. He turns to you as he smooths the front of his sweater, a crisp collar peeking above the vee. You spin and lead him down the hallway.
“You still have classes, right?” you ask as you enter the kitchen and rush to turn off the burner, removing the screaming kettle.
“I do, but my summers are always slower,” he assures as he nears the island. You sense his shadow as you take out a second mug, “do you miss campus terribly?”
“Hmm, I suppose but it’s good to be back,” you say, “I think even dad would agree. Any particular tea you’re in the mood for?”
“It is late, perhaps a chamomile, something herbal,” he replies carelessly.
You take out your tin of teas and sort through, tearing open a packet and placing the bags in the cups. You go through the process of steeping and turn back as Zemo stands over your novel, flicking through the pages curiously.
“Oh, I was just reading,” you say bashfully.
“I usually see you carrying around Tolstoy,” he muses, “this is very different.”
“Just a book I was suggested,” you answer as you near and place the cup before him, “I think I’m all burnt out on history and lit right now.”
“No judgment, you know, Lovecraft is regarded as a great and he wrote quite peculiar fantasy,” he muses as he closes the book, “it is always a positive to broaden our horizons.”
He pulls the cup closer as you cradle yours between your palms. It’s been a while since you saw the doctor, your father’s oldest friend, and the indulger of your historical whimsy. Many of your books had once been his.
His brushes back the grey at his temples, some new silver laced over the top of his head. He looks older but not poorly for it. He always seemed entirely too sage and intelligent for you and even after a year of university, you feel inadequate.
“And you’ve just been teaching?” you ask.
“Mm, yes, and I did make my rounds at the conferences this year,” he replies as he traces the porcelain brim with his finger, steam coiling up from the tea, “I have a few this summer. I thought, now you are a fully-fledged scholar, you might… be interested? Or perhaps you’re life is much too exciting for me now.”
“Ha,” you scoff, “maybe. I’ll have to see. My dad says I have to get a summer job so I don’t know if I’ll have the time.”
“Then we will see,” he says smoothly as you hear the front door click.
“Sweet pea, I got you the grilled combo, they were all out of the tenders,” your father calls down the hallway before he appears. He winces as he sees Zemo but smiles nonetheless, “Hel,” he greets as he places the paper bags down, “I wasn’t expecting you–”
“Ah, yes, forgive me,” Zemo stands straight, “I had only a thought about the shelves in my office and thought to discuss it with you, my handy friend.”
“Mm,” your father rolls his eyes, “and it’s not about the vintage in my toolbox?”
“Oh, I have tea,” he lifts the mug, “I promise, I am not after the scotch. Not this time.”
“Here,” your father slides a paper bag in your direction, “I’ll take care of this pest.” 
He takes his own bag and a cup from the tray.
“Thank you, dear,” Zemo takes his tea and sends you a smile, “have a good night and enjoy your book.”
“Thanks, Doctor, you too,” you reply as he follows your father.
“So what is it this time? I can’t perform miracles, man, you need to stop buying books…” your dad’s voice trails off and you chuckle. 
The two of them are an unexpected pair; the professor and the carpenter, it would be a good buddy film if you had a hand for screenplays. You slide your book off the counter and grab your tea. Hopefully, you can finish the chapter before your eyes start to burn.
🌻
A lazy breeze flows in across the window sill. Sweat films over your face as the fan oscillates and blows over you, sprawled across your bed in a tee and shorts set decorated with purple petals. You woke up uncomfortable, sticky and stewing from the heat.
Your room in the attic is always the hottest or coldest in the house, but in your former teenage obstinance, you insisted on privacy and now your pride will not let you retreat. You languish in the temperature, the humidity thick as it seeps in, crawling over you. It should storm soon before the stranglehold gets too tight.
At last, you roll out of bed and tug on the front of the button up shirt to try to ease the trickle along your spine. You go to the window and pull it open with a great heave, grunting as the frame makes a similar noise. You peer down as a figure catches your eyes.
It's early, you glance at the old two handed clock on your round night table, but you always assumed Dr. Zemo never sleeps. He's unbothered by the heat as he stops on the walk and looks up at you, drawn by the grind of old wood. You wave at him and he lifts his free hand to return the gesture. He proceeds up the pavement and disappears below the eaves.
You groan and spin away. You need to get out of this room. You change into a pair of loose capris and a gingham blouse that knots over your belly button, just a hint of skin above the waist. You check yourself in the mirror, never very bothered by your bare face, and descend the creaky old stairs.
"I see you've been up all night about it," your father admonishes, his voice gristly with sleep. He's an old bear and hates early hours.
"Yes, well, I've been restless about the shelves," Zemo replies as you near the top of the second flight staircase, "so, is it feasible?"
"You need to let me wake up, Hel," your dad grumbles into a yawn, a great roar as you imagine him stretching, "I can't focus on your scribbles before my coffee."
"Yes, yes, you and your caffeine," Zemo intones, "it isn't very good for you, you know?"
"Thanks, mom," your father rebuffs dryly as you hear the lid of the machine clap down.
You carefully continue down the stairs and peek around the railing. Zemo stands by the island, toe tapping as his fingers play with the corner of a page. His leather folio lays open as the coffee machine makes noise.
You tiptoe down the hall and squeak, "good morning."
Zemo smiles as he peeks over at you as your dad stares down the coffee pot.
"Morning, sweet pea," your father mutters as you stop by the island, "you're up early."
"It's so hot," you say as you bask in the cool air of the lower floors.
"I told you the attic was a bad idea," your father attempts to resurrect that battle.
"Maybe," you shrug, in no mood for arguing, "what's this?"
You glance at Zemo's papers and he pulls his hands back to frame his sketches.
"My plans for my study. I never much use my guest room so I thought to expand it–"
"And pay me pennies," your father pours a mug, "con artist, this one."
"If you are too busy, just say the word and I will consider other prospects," Zemo challenges.
There's a brief silence before they laugh. The two of them always speak with a sense of chagrin. Two grumpy old men.
"Seems like a lot of work," you comment as you look closer.
"Mhmm," your father agrees, "a lot."
"Well," Zemo sighs and runs a hand up his lapel, "speaking of work, I have another proposition."
"There he goes," your dad crosses one arm over his stomach as he takes a gulp. 
"As my study will be under construction, I shall need to relocate my work for the summer. As well, as I've made some commitment before this decision to throw all into chaos, I have much to do and would require some assistance."
"Gimme, gimme, gimme," your father scoffs.
"As I was saying," Zemo taps on the papers, "I require assistance and the position would look well for any aspiring historian–"
"Her?" Your father arches a brow at you.
"I heard she was in need of employment," Zemo says, "it would be mutually beneficial."
"So you say," your father counters, "dunno if she'd agree."
"Remind me not to accost you before your coffee again," Helmut mutters.
"Oh, I have no problem reminding you over and over," your father taunts, "well, sweet pea, it's entirely up to you."
"Uh," you're surprised by the offer. 
It would be ideal to grilling burgers at the McDonald's or sorting flyers down at the newspaper. Still, as nice as Zemo is, it could be awkward. Him being your boss. He doesn't seem anything less than strict in his study and you're barely above a freshman.
"It isn't an urgent decision, dear," Zemo assures, "for the time, I am more concerned for my shelves–"
"The shelves," your father waves him off, "you're like a buzzing fly."
"Now, do not make me mention what debts are beholden to me," Zemo warns, "I could ask for worse things."
"And I'm sure you will," your father snorts as he stands straight, "I'm going to finish this outside. The sun makes you slightly more tolerable."
Your father goes to the patio doors and drags his feet outside. You smile awkwardly as Zemo closes his folio and scoops it up.
"Let me know when you've made up your mind," he says as he tucks the folder under his arm, "I always did wonder how you are that man's daughter. Such a stubborn… one."
You chuckle as you imagine what he truly meant to end with. He turns to follow your father and you go to the fridge to search out something cold. You can't think when you're this hot.
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multific · 1 year
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If He doesn't Scare You, No Evil Thing will
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Cruella!Helmut Zemo x Reader
Words: 5.5K
Summary: Helmut Zemo, the best designer, a cold and manipulative man. You, a barista, a kind and gentle person. Nothing common between you two yet fate had its ways to toy with you.
A/N: None of the above pictures are mine, all rights go to their owners, especially the beautiful work of art by @enstatia which inspired this whole story.
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Baron Helmut Zemo is the best fashion designer in the entire world.
He was rich, smart and elegant. He was adored by some and hated by many.
He wasn't a gentleman, he was rude and cunning, and he always got what he wanted. In the name of fashion, he had done many terrible things.
The Sokovian noble born became a well-known name in the entire world after his first collection.
Most people knew him for his famous furs, others knew him because he liked to crush the competition, literally.
He always said, fashion isn't kind, so why should he be?
You were always fascinated by fashion, even if you didn't have a taste for it or the money to afford it.
But Zemo's collections always stood out for you, you spent many many hours looking at his clothing. His taste and creativity were beyond everything you could ever imagine.
But you will never be able to afford anything of his, working in a coffee shop certainly didn't give you the paycheck of your dreams, if you were honest you barely made enough to live but you dreamed big.
You let out a long sigh as you were getting ready to close the store finally. A long shift and you were the only one remaining to close it all up.
Just as you were sweeping the floors, a man came rushing in, he was heaving, he clearly had a run, but who would run in a suit like that?
"We are cl-"
"PLEASE! I need a double espresso urgently."
"Sorry, Sir."
"I NEED that coffee or my boss will kill me! Please! I pay extra, double, triple whatever but I need that coffee." he was desperate, probably a new started who was trying to impress their boss.
"Okay." you ended up saying. "But! This is the first and only time! You have to come next time during open hours!"
"Thank you! THANK YOU!"
You made the coffee as best as you could in your tired state before handing it to him.
He really did leave a nice tip for you and was soon out the door, running.
You shook your head and closed up.
The next day, everything went normally. Customers came, left, some leaving you nice tips.
Then, when you stood behind the bar, he arrived again.
"Hello. Coming this time during normal hours." he laughed lightly. "Look my boss really liked the coffee you made for him, so I'll have to come here regularly from now on, maybe even more than once a day. So, I'll always order the same, double espresso, like you made yesterday and for me a cappuccino."
And just like he said, he came to the store every morning at 7:50 sharp, ordered the same thing every time and occasionally, he arrived in the afternoon.
"I do see why Boss likes your coffee, the cappuccino you made for me was amazing."
He was your first regular customer. He told you he worked for a big company and had a husband and a german shepherd. He was talkative as if he didn't have anyone to talk to about these things during the day.
Then, one day, he didn't come in the morning.
It was strange coming from someone sharp.
But, you went on with your day, and just as you were ready to close, the front doorbell sounded off.
It gave you deja vu.
"Sorry, but we are closi-" you stopped immediately when you noticed the man in front of you.
Baron Helmut Zemo.
The leading man in fashion, in this little store.
"I didn't have my espresso today, you see my assistant got sick."
That explained a lot, like how he was always so dressed and in a hurry.
You didn't know what to do. To deny him coffee would be a death sentence.
He sat down at a table like it was the most casual thing.
You made him the coffee, just like you always did.
"Anything else I could get you?" you asked as you placed the mug in front of him.
"No, thank you." as he picked up the mug his hand brushed against yours.
He was much nicer than people made him in their stories. Maybe he was having a good day, you didn't want to poke around, so you left and went back to whipping tables and cleaning the floor.
When he finished, he left you a good tip and without another word, he was off.
Everything happened so fast, you wondered if it was even real.
In the end, you convinced yourself that it couldn't possibly be Baron Zemo, and you just moved on.
The next day, the assistant guy didn't come nor did Zemo so you really must have been imagining things.
However on the third day, just before closing time, both arrived.
"We are still in time right?" asked the assistant, whose name you just remembered being Bucky. "Can I also get a slice of that chocolate cake please?" he asked as he ordered while the Baron sat down. You knew better so you acted like a professional and served them both.
And while they talked about work, you cleaned the tables.
"Y/N." you heard your name being called, nearly making you jump. "Can you help us?"
"No need to bother her, James, I know what I want."
Bucky rolled his eyes as you walked over, you looked at the drawings in front of them.
Two beautiful suits, one dark with fur around the neck, white with black dots, reminded you of dalmatians, the other suit just as beautiful, dark green with gold embellishments. Both are similar styles for a very very rich man.
"Which one do you think is better?" you looked at both of them.
"Both look really nice."
"You have to pick." said the Baron and you picked up both papers.
"I like this one better." you said placing the dotted one back on the table. Zemo had a smirk on his face while Bucky huffed. "But it's missing something." you said as your eyes were glued to the paper.
"Boss said the same thing." said Bucky before taking the other drawing and putting it away.
"Is it for a man or woman?" you asked as it wasn't clear from the drawing, your question was for Bucky but Zemo answered.
"It's for me. It will be made out of fur, real fur, but as you said, it's missing something. And I'm not going to the fashion show with an incomplete piece."
Then you remembered something.
"Do you have pencils?" you asked and Bucky nodded, he gave you the box of coloured pencils.
They both watched you as you did something.
You showed them both.
You added red gloves. Ones that were missing on the fingers.
They both went silent. Completely silent and you knew you messed up.
"I-I'm sorry. I ruined it." you were about to place it on the table when the Baron grabbed it and looked at it.
"He loves it." said Bucky. "He always has that face when he loves something.
"Incredible! You have an eye for fashion!"
"I really don't, Sir. I just-"
"Come with me to the fashion show in Rome! I need your eye, your talent is impeccable."
You tried to refuse, you really did. But it was hard to argue with a Baron. And in the end, you had to go. Because who were you to say no?
You told your boss you are sick, so you won't be able to make it for two weeks.
You couldn't believe you were going to miss work, but the nice check the Baron put into your hands was twice as much as you made in three months.
"For your time." he said when he placed it into your hands. And you nearly doubled over at the amount written on it.
"This is too much."
"Not at all. It's barely anything for your time." he said as he left.
You learned he loved to have the last word.
And now here you were, looking into your wardrobe, realizing just how poor you were.
You didn't even have decent clothes to wear to work let alone to the biggest fashion event!
Then the packages arrived.
Clothes, some were so new they weren't even announced just yet.
And a simple note that the delivery guy handed you as Bucky carried the boxes into your tiny apartment.
'Wear these. H.Z.'
A simple message, you couldn't question it. Then you realized you never even tell him your address let alone your sizes to be able to send you clothes.
"Bucky? How did you know where I live?"
"Oh, easy, Boss told me, he had a feeling you wouldn't have any dresses for a fashion event, so he sent me along, you should try them on."
He sat down on your couch sipping a glass of wine.
Just where did he get the wine from? And how did his boss know where you lived?
And again, you couldn't say no, so you tried everything on. If you were honest you were impressed and also happy to have Bucky there, you had a great time.
Then, the day came.
But instead of Bucky, a driver came to pick you up. It was a luxurious car which drove you to the airport.
You didn't even dare to talk to him, but you do remember his name when he introduced himself, Frederick.
He looked like the kind of intimidating guy who was actually really sweet and kind. But you rather not push his buttons.
"Here she is." said the Baron as you got out of the car, a luxurious jet awaiting the two of you. "James sadly couldn't make it, his husband had an accident and he wanted to stay with him. But fashion doesn't wait so it will be the two of us on this trip, I hope that is okay with you."
"Most certainly." you said as he lead you into the jet and showed you where everything was.
You weren't sure why you were even there, because he liked your idea of red gloves? Because you made good coffee? Why were you there?!
"I can almost hear you thinking, how about we do something creative instead of your worries." he thought you were scared of flying. You weren't. But it was a better excuse than the fact that you had a very handsome and rich man sitting right across from you and it made you nervous.
He placed a couple of drawings in front of you, all with women's clothing this time, gorgeous gowns and suits.
"Which one should be the centrepiece of my show?" he asked as he leaned back in his chair, watching you closely
You looked at him for a moment before looking at the table, why was he asking you? He must have one already.
Collections don't come out unless you have one, do they?
You looked at him as he was sipping some champagne before your eyes moved across the drawings.
Was this a test? It had to be. He had to be toying with you. Or it could be genuine, but you had your doubts.
You picked the dress you liked the most and he nodded.
He didn't comment or ask anything, he just simply nodded and left it at that.
---
When you arrived in Rome, your breath was taken away. This lifestyle. This level of luxury that came so naturally for him was something you never even imagined.
You got a room in the most expensive hotel, your room was more like an apartment. The view was gorgeous.
And again, you asked yourself, what were you doing there?
Then the phone in the room rang, and you picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Ah, Darling, let's go and get something to eat, you must be hungry from the flight." It was Zemo.
"Oh, sure."
"Let's meet in the lobby, 10 minutes?"
And sure enough, ten minutes later, there he was, standing in the middle like a King in a gorgeous deep wine-red suit. While you had jeans and a shirt on... great. You should have changed.
As he turned and saw you, he did make a face, he hoped you didn't see, but you surely did.
Half of the things on the menu, you couldn't even pronounce, so you stuck with something you knew, hamburgers and fries. It also worried you that you couldn't find the prices.
Zemo got something very Italian. By the sound of it.
It looked really nice, some nice pasta, cheese, but your burger, oh, your burger was everything.
It was so delicious, you nearly went blind eating it. And the fries were beyond this world.
"I hope you are enjoying yourself, is your room appropriate?"
"More than that. I have a huge balcony, I can see the Colosseum from there!"
"Glad to hear that you enjoy it. What about the dresses? I sent you a couple, do you not like them?" his brows furrowed as he pointed at your top.
"Oh, they are beautiful, but I just wasn't sure when to wear them."
"Whenever you see fit. They are yours after all." he said that but he clearly didn't mean it. He wanted you to wear those dresses, it was clear.
"They cannot be mine, they are way too expensive." you argued as you thought he only gave them for the trip.
"I made them just for you, they only fit you." you really didn't want to believe him.
But you went along with it.
You knew better than to argue with Baron Zemo himself.
Later that evening, you sat out on the balcony, taking in the view then suddenly something hit you.
"Did he say he MADE them just for me?" sudden realization hit you like a train.
---
The first day of the fashion show, you felt really out of place. Even with the beautiful dress you had on, you didn't feel comfortable at all.
You were nervous as you entered the car and you were even more nervous when you realized that there are paparazzi.
"Take deep breaths, don't look into the flash and you'll be fine. And smile." Zemo said as he put his arm around you and guided you through the crowd. People were trying to ask questions but he only waved and smiled.
And then, you were inside.
The first show wasn't Zemo's. It was a woman's collection. Filled with colour and texture. Not really your style, but you just sat there, not making any faces. There were too many cameras watching, if they caught you at the wrong time, your life could be over.
"What do you think?" asked Zemo as he leaned over and into your ear. You were in the middle of watching another oversized coat walk down the runway.
"Not my favourite. Everything is too big, it swallows them." you said honestly, turning to him, hoping no one heard you.
"Quite right, My Dear." he said before leaning back and continuing to watch.
About three more collections later, that day was done.
And the fact that you didn't like anything... worried you. Zemo asked every time, how you like it, but you could never say a good thing.
How can someone be exhausted after such a day?
All you had to do was sit and smile occasionally when Zemo introduced you to people.
Oh, the number of men and women who could kill you with their eyes just to be standing next to the man who kept his arm around your waist.
He always introduced you as a friend, but the looks you received from people were not meant for a friend. They saw you as a threat.
But now, you were back at the hotel, sitting on the balcony, still in that gorgeous dress as you enjoyed your view.
You promised yourself that morning that you are going to enjoy your time here. After all, who knew if you would ever be able to make it back to Rome anytime soon or ever in your life for that matter.
"Darling?" the voice came from the room and it made you jump in your seat.
"Zemo?"
"Here you are. I see you do enjoy the view." he sat down next to you in another chair, looking at you, not the view.
"It's beautiful. How did you get into my room?"
"It is breathtaking. I came to ask if you are ready for dinner, I see you didn't change." he just completely ignored your question.
"I like this dress. And yes, I'm ready for dinner." you said as you looked at him, eyes shining but he didn't smile, he simply nodded and guided you to the dining hall.
Dinner was as delicious as the day before. You were a bit more daring regarding the food you ordered.
"Tell me about yourself." he suddenly said. Now you were glad you didn't have any food or drink in your mouth.
Why would he be interested?
But he genuinely looked like he cared, and what harm would it be to tell him?
Not like he really cared, he probably just wanted you to ask the same from him and after you told your story, you did ask him.
But he dodged the question and instead told you how tomorrow will go down.
A three-day fashion event. Was that too much or too little? You weren't sure.
But your second day was much like the first, except it was longer.
The day before Zemo made you promise that you'd wear the pink dress he sent you.
Much like the day before, he came to pick you up in the morning, complimenting you while he looked like a nicely wrapped box of bonbons.
The man looked way too good for his own good.
He sat in the car with you, looking out the window, you enjoyed the view.
"Hopefully today we will see something we actually like. What would you like to see?" he asked.
"I want to see yours." you said without any hesitation.
"Hm, you do have good taste." he said just before the car stopped.
Another day without seeing any interesting pieces. You did see one thing, a kind of duo chrome gown, it looked promising, but the back of it... horrible.
You made a face which amused Zemo. He did notice how hopefull you were and then you saw the back.
And now you learned that Zemo's collection will be tomorrow, the last day, the grand finale.
You were about to get dressed when there was a knock on your door, a woman came in with a gorgeous dress, you recognized it from the sketches Zemo showed you on the plane.
"Miss, Mr Zemo send us as he was required before the show. He sent us to get you there, we have a car ready."
The fact that you had to go alone scared you a tad bit. But you did understand why he would be there earlier.
You felt like a Goddess honestly, the dress was perfect. You can imagine him in his room, perfecting every detail before sending it over to you.
You knew he wouldn't give out anything less than perfect from his hands.
---
"To us." he said lifting his champagne, "To the perfect show." he said as you clicked your glass against his. You smiled as you lifted the glass to your lips.
"To you." you said. "Your amazing collection."
"Precisely." he said and nodded. "Wouldn't have been able to do it without you, Darlin’."
And then you suddenly realized.
It was your last day there, last dinner with him and you knew you were going to miss him.
You'll have to go back to the life of a barista. And you were okay with that. You never expected this to happen, so even the fact that it did give you a reason to go forward.
"Can I ask you something?" you asked when the waitress left after she poured you two glasses of wine.
"Go ahead." he said as he lifted his glass.
"Why did you invite me? What is your real reason? Because I'm still confused by it."
"Beauty is something I always thrived for. I always wanted to achieve perfection. With my clothes especially. When Bucky mentioned this new shop with the kind barista I didn't think much. But he started to mention you more and more. And then I went to see you for myself, you took my breath away. You inspired me as a muse would. Something I have never had. I always worked for myself, but now, now I create for you, Darlin’."
You still didn't want to believe him. You weren't that beautiful, you weren't even thin.
"I-"
"I know you doubt yourself. I see it in your eyes. But there is nothing to doubt. Your beauty is extraordinary. You might not see it, your body, and your curves would drive any man crazy, including me. And your personality, you are shining my Darling. Like today, in that dress, I couldn't stop looking at you. Breathtaking, you always look breathtaking but when I see you wear something I made, it does something to me."
You were not sure if this was some weird kink of his. Picking up unsuspecting broke women and then living a fantasy through them. But the way his eyes shined told you he wasn't lying nor was this a weird kink. Adoration is what you saw. But then, why didn't you believe him? Why couldn't you? Could it be what he said before? The way you doubt yourself, it can be getting in your way.
"I'm not that special."
"You don't see what I see. Do you think I get everyone on a plane to Rome because they thought of adding red gloves to a suit? You are exquisite, and I planned on seducing you. I'm not really good at the love department, but you are special."
Seducing you? Love? Well, the black suit he had on certainly didn't help your situation. He looked way too delicious for his own good. You couldn't think straight.
"Are you serious or are you playing with me? Is this some game rich people play?"
"No game, Darling. I'm serious about my feelings." this is when the waitress arrived with your food. He studied your face. "You do not believe me."
"It's hard to. It's hard to believe that a man of your level would ever be interested in someone like me. I'm a simple woman, a barista while you are the best fashion designer in the entire world."
"Do titles bother you that much?"
"When it's this huge, yes. What will people think? You with me? Me with you? They will think I blackmailed you, that I'm a golddigger or something."
"Don't be silly, Love. I do not care what others say about me. My work speaks for itself. But if you really are not interested, I'll understand."
"It's not..." you looked around, no one was paying any attention. "It's not that I'm not interested in you. It's just hard to process your declaration of love when your face barely moves."
"I trained myself. So I wouldn't get wrinkles."
Of course, he did.
"How can I prove myself? How can I prove that my feelings are true?"
"I don't know, honestly."
"I brought you on many dates. Every day, I saw every lunch, breakfast and dinner as a date. Even if you didn't. Which now I realize you might not have. I should have told you from the beginning, but I needed to know who the angel who made those amazing espressos was. And I really found an angel. I watched you as you worked, cleaned the store when you were ready to close and I walked in."
"I need to think." you said honestly.
"Of course, I never expected you to be ready with an answer. But please know, I am serious."
Rest of the dinner, you spent quietly, eating and trying to think.
Why did he have to look so delicious in his suit?! It wasn't fair.
Your mind couldn't even register that evening or the next morning, nor the flight nor when you stood in front of your apartment while Zemo's driver got your suitcases out. You arrived with more than you left with.
You turned and looked at Zemo.
"Thank you again for the opportunity and the amazing memories." he only nodded once before you walked away from him.
Zemo had a cold heart. His industry and past made him this way, but he could feel his cold heart break into millions of pieces as he watched you walk away and the door closed behind you. He got back into the car and headed home, home into the cold mansion where he lived all alone.
You couldn't even unpack. Your suitcases have been in the same place as you left them days ago when you arrived home.
So many thoughts yet your mind was blank, and your heart hurt.
But why was it hurting so badly? The look in his eyes as you said goodbye. It was as if he was a different person, not the kind Zemo you saw at the shows, not the Zemo who laughed with you as you looked at all the dresses and discussed them at dinner.
It was the cold and old Zemo who walked into your work many days ago.
Today was your day off.
You haven't seen or heard about Zemo or Bucky at all. You figured they were busy after such an amazing show.
You pulled out your phone and smiled as you looked at all the photos you took.
During many days you and Zemo went around Rome, being tourists he guided you through the streets as if he was living there for years.
How did you fail to see the look in his eyes? He took so many photos of you at your request and then you stopped at one.
It was a selfie of you and Zemo. You remember how grumpy he was but you ended up getting a picture where he was in the background.
Then photos of the last show, his show.
You took many photos of him.
And then, as if someone poured cold water all over you.
He was wearing the suit. THE SUIT, with the red gloves.
"You picked this one out." he said when you complimented him. At the time you only laughed it off not believing him.
And you realized your many mistakes.
You were too blind to realize what was happening right in front of you.
You fell in love.
You fell in love with him and you didn't even know it.
Now, the place on your waist where he always had his hand felt hot, burning. You couldn't believe how stupid you were.
How could you ignore his feelings? The way he looked at you, the way he held you and walked with you.
"I wouldn't have anyone else by my side, Love." he said one day and it all came crushing down.
You wanted to yell. Scream.
How could you done this?! Who cares about titles? Who cares about who he was.
All you cared about was him.
The way he looked at you, the way he smelled and the way he cared for you.
You rushed out of your apartment and got a taxi.
Only when you stood in front of the building you realized you had no idea what you were doing. You walked in and the receptionist gave you a look.
She probably had a strong feeling towards the crocks you wore, the sweatpants and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt.
"How may I help?"
"I'm here to speak with Helmut Zemo? I have an urgent matter." she gave you another look.
"Sure, I'll call security."
"No, please I'm serious, can you at least call him? Or his assistant? Bucky Barnes? They know me, I promise."
She only raise her brow as security started to walk towards you.
"Ma'am, please." one man said and you really didn't want to cause a scene.
"Please, just call Bucky at least, I really-"
"Y/N?" all of you looked at Bucky who just exited the elevator. "What are you doing here?"
"Mr Barnes we are about to get this lady out, I apologize for the scene."
As the bodyguard grabbed your arm Bucky almost growled at the man.
"HEY, let her go. I really don't think your boss would appreciate you touching her and you," he continued pointing at the receptionist. "You throw people out without confirming if we expect them or not?"
"Sir, sorry but I didn't think-"
"Exactly, you didn't think, but you wouldn't know so, I suggest you do your job properly from now."
"Yes, Sir. I apologize."
Bucky got you into the elevator as he looked at you. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk with Helmut."
Bucky smirked. "Oh it's just like a romantic movie, the heroine realizes her love for the cold hearted man and rushes to confess to him." Bucky said with a dreamy voice. "But wait! What are you wearing?!"
"I was home! what am I supposed to wear at home?"
"You need to change." he said as he pushed a different button on the elevator. "Hair, make up and dress."
And again, you knew better than to argue with Bucky.
About two hours later, you felt and looked like a completely different woman.
"Much better."
"I don't even want to know how much the clothes cost."
"Then don't ask. He's free now, probably in his office mopping."
"Why would he be cleaning?"
"Not that kind of mopping. He is sad because he let you go. SO ROMANTIC."
"Bucky." you said as you went up the elevator, top floor to finally do what you were ready to do 2 hours ago. "I'm nervous."
"Don't be. You wouldn't even have to say anything just go in, kiss him and boom. Wedding." you wanted to laugh. "Good luck." he said as he stopped in front of a huge door. He knocked before rushing off like a child.
"Come in." you heard his voice inside and you slowly opened the door.
He was sitting in his chair, his back to you. "What do you need Bucky, I told you I don't have the dresses, I don't even have ideas."
"Looks like you lost your muse." you said, your heart hammering in your chest.
"I did but why are you saying that?" did he really not realize that you were not Bucky?
"Why don't you get it back?"
"I told you I-" this time he turned and noticed you. He was, of course, wearing a suit, he look at you as if you were a ghost. "Darlin’? Am I imagining things?"
"No, and I'm sorry for being so blind. I came to tell you that if you want to, I'd like to try... us." you watched as he stood up from his chair.
"Are you serious?"
You nodded as he took steps towards you. He placed his palm against your cheek, leaning down to kiss you.
A kiss to make sure you were real, a kiss to finally mend and melt his heart.
When he pulled back, you smiled at him.
"You look stunning."
"Thank Bucky."
"Of course."
"But I do want my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt back!" he couldn't even comprehend what you just said. He was way too happy to fully process it.
---
That Christmas, you were already living with him.
You had a rather difficult time finding something for him as a gift, but then you came up with the perfect one and with the help of Bucky, you got just the thing.
You couldn't wait for his reaction to see it.
You smiled as you opened all of your gifts, clothes, jewellery, and a trip to Japan. Everything is absolutely amazing.
"Thank you, Babe, now, it's your turn."
"We said nothing serious." he said motioning towards the huge box you had in your hand which you just brought it.
"I know, open it."
Helmut looked at you and then at the box. He opened it, and then immediately looked up at you.
"What-"
You reached into the box and pulled out the small puppy and handed her to him.
"You can name her, she is a nine week old-"
"Dalmatian." he finished your sentence as he took the puppy from you. The puppy immediately started to lick his face. You smiled.
"You like her?"
He looked up at you and nodded.
"I thought I already had the best present be you, but this is amazing. Thank you, Love."
You pulled out your phone and took many many photos of him and the dog.
"What should be her name?" you asked as you watched the puppy sleep while you and Helmut cuddled on the couch.
"Cruella De Vil." you laughed slightly.
"Of course, you'd pick a name like this." you shook your head. "Cruella it is then."
You leaned over to give him a kiss on the lips as he pulled you even closer before another movie started on the TV.
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            DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
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addict-rat · 11 months
Text
Your Eyes Betray You
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Summary: You have a rivalry with Zemo and his team, but you also have mixed feelings with him, in one mission you both finally end up saying what you feel and more.
Words count: 2880
Paring: Helmut Zemo x F!Reader
Warnings: +18 Explict, swering, very poorly written smut, wall sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v. 
Author’s note: Buenas, I just want to say a few things, frist this is my frist smut written in english, that leads to the second thing english not my first language I know a bit of the language but still learning so I used a translator from time to time if you see a mistake in the grammar or in general please let me know, I accept criticism but I don’t tolerate hate comments or similar. I probably gonna write more fanficons so I accept request in the future and I in the process of writing a Namor fanfic x!Reader. Gracias enjoy the fic :D
My masterlist.  
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Your career as a government agent was going pretty well. Not long ago you had been promoted to a position now you have your own team of agents to lead although you still had to follow orders from your superior, Secretary Ross. you could say that you had done everything to be where you were now, and you knew that one day you would be in a higher position than the one you were currently in, you worked hard to have a record of success in most of your missions, that was one of the reasons why you were given this position, however everything changed when you met your now "enemies" the Thunderbolts.
Thunderbolts was a team similar to yours except they had two supersoldiers, Ava Starr better known as Phantom, Justin Hammer and criminal mastermind who more than once could take you down. While your team was not bad, the problem was that it turns out you were not the best person to lead, since most of your life you had and preferred to work on your own.
Valentina and Ross were on the same path, therefore Thunderbolts and your team ended up on the same mission so you saw them very often, they were a headache for you because you knew you had a half chance of succeeding in the mission and a half chance of losing because of them.
Everyone already knew each other, it was like seeing co-workers who had been together for many years, but as team leader you knew all the opposing team better, especially their leader.
Helmut Zemo.
Being both team leaders you had faced him before, at first you could say you had no opinion of him, after meeting him on a mission where you lost, you began to hate him especially when you realized how much you found yourself thinking about him, you were not going to admit the obvious you had to stay focused on what mattered.
                                                             You weren't a fan of missions that involved having to infiltrate parties and looking like you were enjoying being there, usually these types of missions you would send someone from your team, but this time you had to go, so there you were finishing your fifth drink. You were waiting for the host of the party to come out of his office so you could go and get some files that could put a big f behind bars, you heard in one of your headphones that he had already left his office and that you could move on, so you preferred to go and finish the mission instead of having your sixth drink, you walked straight to where there was a crowd of people dancing.
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"I thought you didn't like these kinds of events" you pulled away a little when you saw how close you were to him "I don't I'm here beacuse of work, look like you a really having fun" you said in a mocking tone "I'm here beacuse of work too and your distracting me, can you even fight in that? "You tried to ignore the previous comment even though you still felt that feeling that had become recurrent in your stomach and you knew that he was the reason for your behavior. Your thoughts left you when you heard one of your colleagues telling you to hurry before he went back to his office "I don't have time for this and yes I can fight in this" you said walking to where you should have been a few minutes ago.
You felt someone pulling you by your arm so hard that you ended up glued to the body of the man who had pulled you, obviously it had to be the last person you wanted to see here and who in fact you were expecting to see.
The mansion you were in was so ridiculously big that it took you a little longer to get there, in some corridors there were people around so you had to find another way or wait for them to leave. You were a little more relieved that you were so close, you just had to look for the files and leave being as cautious as possible. Already in front of the door you looked to the sides before placing your hand on the door handle but before you could open the door, you were a little scared since no one had warned you that someone was already inside but your concern was gone when you saw Zemo in the door frame, the two looked at each other for a few minutes, you still did not understand how he had arrived so fast.
"If you are looking for the same as me, good luck, I doubt you will find a copy" whenever he was in advantage or beat you he always put that mocking smile, you saw him walking away while you doubted if you were really looking for the same or were different motives of the mission, but still you went after him, you approached him and he stopped walking when you reached him "Do you really want took me into a fight in that dress?" he asked this time looking at you again from head to toe "Do you want to try me? Baron" he approached you, cornering you in the wall "Do you know I love when you use my title?" you were going to answer him but you both became alert when you heard footsteps and you heard your team warning you that someone was coming in the corridor, obviously it was going to be suspicious to see you two standing near the office and there was no time to go anywhere else.
You grabbed Zemo by his coat and pulled him closer to you, you whispered an almost inaudible "sorry" before you started kissing him, obviously nobody was going to suspect two lovers looking for a place to be alone, at first Zemo was a little astonished he didn't expect you to do that, but he understood that it was to cover the two of you and not to raise suspicions, so he didn't let go of you, his leg got between yours applying some pressure, which made you moan in the kiss, he took the opportunity to dominate more the kiss and taste inside you, you didn't want to admit it but it was the first time you had been kissed so well.
You remembered that this was your chance to look for the files in his coat, your hands traveled through Zemo's coat, trying to find the files but he noticed what you were doing, he took your hands and slammed them against the wall, pulling something out of you between a sigh and a moan, something you were going to regret later "You like that don't you? You like it when someone else takes control" He said close to your lips, you started to move your hips a little on the leg he had between yours, you did it by mere instinct you hadn't even noticed, " Egear are we? " He murmured as he left a path of kisses from your jaw to your neck, you let out a gasp as you felt his wet kisses, your weak legs brought you back to reality and you saw that there was no one but the two of you in the hallway "T- they're already gone" Zemo let go of your wrists "Yes, I know they left like two minutes ago" he left a kiss on your cheek "Looking for this, Draga? "He took out a small usb from his coat and put it back almost immediately, while you were still stunned and bewildered by what had just happened a few seconds ago.
You followed him down another corridor when you had already put your feet on the ground again, when you got to the corner where he had crossed he was not there, you looked around, but it was useless, there was no one there, you walked back from where you came but you saw from afar that a group of people were coming and you saw that from the other side of the corridor as well. For a moment you were paralyzed, but they dragged you to another small room, that looked like a cellar or something similar, the room was only illuminated by the small lines of the shutter that almost completely covered the window of the door.
"What..."
You couldn't finish.
"Shhh."
"Don't shhh to me"
He put his hand on your mouth "Shhhh" you heard murmurs that were going to close where you were, you did not pay attention to what they were talking, you were more focused on watching him even with the little light that came from the hallway, his dark eyes staring at the door where he had you nailed, you saw how he frowned to concentrate on what the other people were talking, his dark hair well combed and how soft it seemed to be, you wanted to pass your hand touching him.
"Enjoying the view?" He ask with that cooky smirt and removed his hand from your mouth "I do, although I preferred the way you looked in the hallway" he tilt his head, his hands went to your hips "You didn't look at me like you hated me... but you don't, do you? Well you did at first, but then you pretended to" Your eyes widened in amazement, after all this time you were still impressed by how capable he was of reading you despite how good you were at pretending.
"Your eyes, your eyes betrayed you" he replied as if he knew what you were going to ask, it was no secret that he no longer saw you as if his gaze could kill you, at first he detested you especially you being the one who had beaten him a few times, but that had been a long time ago.
Your lips approached his, when it finally looked like your lips were about to touch his, he moved a few inches away from you "Tell me what do you want, darling?" You bite your lip, his hand slowly went down to the hem of your dress, caressing your thighs under your dress "Please, please Helmut... Touch me, make me yours please fuck me please" you begged pathetically for the other man to touch you, you never thought you would beg like that for anyone ever in your life, but for him, you didn't mind doing it.
This time it was his lips that found you and he drank you in almost the same way he had done in the past kiss, his kisses went down to your neck and his hands this time went up your dress to your waist and into your panties playing with the now wet fabric, you were about to beg for more, when you heard the rustle of the fabric tearing, You gave a gasp of astonishment that quickly turned into a more erotic one as you felt his fingers in your wet folds "You won't need these" he said finishing removing your panties "You already so wet for me" one of his hands took your leg to lift it a little, your fingernails dug into his shoulders to steady you.
"Don't stop Zemo ples...Ah" Two of his long and thick fingers penetrated into your wet cunt, his fingers curled in that place that made you forget where you were. "Ah" you moaned loudly feeling how his fingers stretched you and at the same time his thumb started massaging circles in your clit. You began to feel that sensation in your belly that indicated your orgasm was beginning to form, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders. His lips so close to yours that you could feel his breaths heaving and he could feel your gasps and moans.
"Zemo... I..." His lips caught your lips in a kiss before you could raise your voice any more, you heard footsteps and murmurs outside, across the hall but they gradually receded. "You have to be a little more quite, my love... As much I would love to hear you, we can't let anyone hear us, do you understand?" Zemo asked you shortly after you came down from your state of pleasure. "Yes, Baron" you said he kissed you again, this time a little shorter "Good girl" you were surprised when he turned and your face pressed into the door, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling as well as the zipper of his pants, one of his hands was on your hip gripping you tightly then you were to find the bruise in the shape of his hand on your hip, with his other hand he said the tip of his cock was moving in your wet folds "Stop teasing me, baron please" a choked moan came from your lips as you felt him slowly penetrate you, it was much bigger than you had thought, your count trembling with the strecht as inch after inch.
You both let out a sigh when he fully stettled, both of his hands on your hips "Fuck, you're so thigt" He whisper in your ear leaving a path of kisses and hickeys in your neck, you moved your head to the side leaving him more space, you let out a loud moan when you felt his teeth penetrating the skin between your neck and shoulder "Oh! Don't mark me you possesive... Oh fuck" you whimper when you felt how he came out completely and penetrated you again in a single movement, his nails dug into your hips while he came out and entered you in a constant pace, Zemo grabbed you by the neck turning your head so he could kiss you, his kisses were hungry, a little violent, you tried to follow the same rhythm as him returning him with kisses full of lust and needy, you didn't separate until you were both out of breath, a loud moan came from your lips when he hit that place that left you wanting more, your back arched and he noticed it by the way your legs weakened and by the way your walls squeezed his cock, his pace this time faster hitting that sweet place. Even though you wanted to be quiet because you were not exactly alone, anyone could pass through the hallway and hear you, but Zemo made it difficult for you to be quiet, his arm grabbed your hips while the other one massaged your clitoris, a gasp escaped your lips from the pleasure he was giving you, it wasn't a few minutes later when you felt your second orgasm come again.
"I'm so close... I'm gonna come" you let out a loud moan "Come for my draga" he grabbed your neck bringing your head to his shoulder, he applied a little pressure to your neck, which brought you to your second orgasm with a sigh and a gasping moan, Zemo waited until your breathing was no longer so agitated and came back with the same pace he had before. You felt his seed fill you deep inside your walls, you heard profanities between Sokovian and Ingles in between cut off by his agitated breathing.
After a few minutes you both had come down from your euphoria, you felt Zemo's lips on your bare shoulder, his short but affectionate kisses were going up to your cheek, his hand grabbed your jaw returning it to his face leaving a soft and affectionate kiss on your lips, you kissed him back, you let out a whimper in the middle of the kiss when he came out of you, you felt his semen going down your thighs "We could have had fun a long time ago... you know it was much better than I had fantasized..." you weren't going to admit that you had also dated him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud at least not today. you know it was much better than I had fantasized" you weren't going to admit that you had also fooled around with him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud to him at least not today. You both began to arrange yourselves to hide any kind of evidence. You looked for your panties on the floor, when you found them they were torn "Great, now I have to go back without underwear thanks Zemo" you said showing him your ruined panties, Zemo took them out of your hands and put them in his coat "I will buy you new ones, and next time I won't tear them" you both left the room and walked down the hall "So now we will do this on every mission we see each other" You smirk devilish "I can't promise you that I won't, but I'd prefer it to be somewhere more private" they both laughed a little "What a strange way to propose a date but ok I'll take it" they both headed for the exit and went their separate ways to where each team was waiting for them, and there Zemo noticed that you had removed the usb.
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reveriix · 2 months
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Singer Loki
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Barista Mobius
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Model Zemo
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Made moodboards for one of the AUs!
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v4mp1res3verywhere · 2 years
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Roman nights w the mysterious academic you met in a cafe
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lettalady · 1 year
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The Long Journey Home: Ghosts in the Mirror
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My name is Carl Heinrich Rodavan Zemo. I am my father’s son, and I am not dead. My father never came, like I swore he would. I screamed, cried, shouted at my captors with all the might, all the self assurance I’d learned at his feet. I told them: my father would find me and teach them all a lesson.
But he never came.
[ find the story on AO3 ]
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mjolnirswriststrap · 2 days
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Silver Bullet
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Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,670 Masterlist
Summary: The best night of the year, Halloween, turns into a night you just want to forget. PART 1/4.
Warnings: werewolves, cheating, backstabbing best friend, Zemo is a whore, truly.
Red cloaks filled the crowd. This years Halloween parade theme being Dracula. Rob Zombie blared through speakers anchored to lampposts. You and your friends all wore matching costumes, collectively going as the wives of Dracula. It was a good excuse to wear the hottest outfits you could find. Most people paled their skin with white face paint, and molded little pieces of wax to their teeth.
Not you, you wore basically nothing for your costume. Each friend had a different color of fabric, that was loosely draped and cinched around your body. The best way to describe it would be a Greek toga, instead of linen it’s sheer silk, leaving nothing to the imagination. You all wore the same gold collar, a dragon etched on the front; curtesy of the blue bride, Miranda’s, 3D printer.
You didn’t plan on staying, you all agreed to be a part of the parade, once that was over, you were all headed to Zemo’s annual Halloween masquerade. You don’t think he particularly liked having hundreds of people flooding his property every year. But having the biggest house in town was a blessing and a curse. He hosted most festivities for your rather large population of teens and young adults.
You had a fascination with the bachelor. He inherited the mansion, land and money from his grandfather, skipping over his father completely. His family was prominent in the community, both of his parents having a chair at city hall. They volunteered at the food bank and donated to every shelter. Any sane person would think they deserved the money in a way. So why Zemo?
You made it to the party late, everyone leaving the house for the back yard. Zemo had the trees lighted and a dance floor built, always prepared for a celebration. Your friends ditched you as soon as you all got drinks, saying they were going to find their boyfriends. Leaving you to explore the surrounding woods alone.
You nearly drop your red solo cup when you see Zemo pressing Miranda against a tree, practically swallowing each others faces. Tears of betrayal sting your cheeks. She knew you had a crush on him, and she has a boyfriend anyways. You stalk away in anger, losing the trail but not caring. You found a tree far enough from the party that no one would hear your sobs.
You downed the cup filled halfway with vodka, a drop of orange juice for flavor. It dried your tears quickly, leaving your whole body warm. “Stupid.” You say, standing up and brushing the leaves off your dress. “Stupid for liking Zemo.”. You agreed whole heartedly with that. “Stupid for thinking Miranda was my friend.” That’s what hurt the most.
In the midst of your self hate you failed to notice a looming figure. “You’re not stupid.” You jolt, throwing the plastic cup in the direction of the stranger. “Sorry, you scared me.” You giggle, when you see it’s just a guy from the party wearing a phantom of the opera mask.
“It’s okay.” He reaches down and picks up the liter. “Gotta keep our forests clean.” He waves the red in the air. You give him a dry laugh. Men are scary and being alone in the woods with a stranger was causing every alarm in your brain to siren. But the vodka numbed your sense of fear.
“I should get going.” You say, turning and trying to step around the tree. Before you could, the stranger steps closer. “Should you?” He says deeply. He’s close enough now that you can see his piercing blue eyes behind the mask. They render you speechless, the way the moonlight shone off them, put you in a trance. You shake your head, too focused to verbally answer him.
“See, you’re not so stupid after all.” He teases. You have no reaction. His words didn’t fill you with pride or embarrassment. Your veins filled with the distinct warmth of feeling safe. You don’t know where it came from, your body was irrationally reacting to him. You should be shaking with fear and trying to get back to the party, not calmly standing here waiting for something to happen.
It felt like you were locked inside a body that wasn’t yours. It was being controlled by some outside force. You let him reach for you, never flinching away. Your body produced goosebumps where his fingertips grazed your skin. “You’re so beautiful. I’d hate to ruin that.” You nod your head, not even thinking of a single way he could ruin your beauty. Your mind was blank, you couldn’t even say thank you.
“Promise me you won’t resist, once it happens.” You knew nothing of what he spoke, but again you feel your neck bow to him, nodding in agreement. The masked man looks up at the moon, reveling in its fullness. “Are you prepared for no return?” You agree with a nod, now you know you were fully possessed by something. His words should send you running, but a small voice in the back of your head says you would never.
He steps closer again, grabbing fistfuls of your gown, cinched at your waist. “You have to say it. Say I have permission.” His voice was desperate and darker than before. You try to find the words but the influence he had on you was slowly fading, the way he started pressing you against the tree brought you back to your senses. He holds your hips in place as he nuzzles his face into your neck, taking a long deep breath.
The stubble on his chin tickled you and you had to remind yourself yet again that this is a masked stranger in the woods. Even though your senses were coming back, the way his hands lit a fire inside of you was enough to make you not care. That fire pooled lower and lower the closer he got to you. He smelled like a mix of musk and pine. You couldn’t tell if it was him or the trees surrounding you. But it made your mouth water, filling you with a want to taste his skin, just to be sure.
He raises his hand to cradle your cheek, “Please.”. He caught your eyes again, boring into them with an assured look. He focuses on your lips “Just say the words.”.
“I give you permission.” You say them without thinking of the consequences. He sealed your fate by closing the gap between your faces. Pressing his lips to yours. You moved your lips in sync with his, using your free will to wrap your arms around his neck. Before it could go any further the man disappeared. You felt him pull away, when your eyes opened to see why, he was already gone. You searched the surrounding woods with your eyes, there was no sign of him.
You grab your head, wondering if you drunkenly hallucinated. The moisture on your mouth and in your underwear was foolproof evidence that it really just happened. But you still began to question its validity.
You hear a twig snap somewhere near you, in hopes that it was the magnetic stranger you followed it, rounding an old fallen tree you spot a black dog. It was rather large in stature, must be a purebred if it’s that big. You knew an expensive dog wouldn’t be wandering the woods collarless. And you couldn’t remember if Zemo ever mentioned having any pets.
You stepped closer, never fearing animals. You loved dogs, you had a few of your own at your parents house. “Here boy.” You kneel down, reaching out your hand. It finally gives you its attention. Immediately showing his sharp canines, snarling loudly. “Oop.” You stand up and slowly back away, knowing the signs of an agitated dog.
When your view of it is blocked by the tree you turn around and sprint away. Not wanting to receive a rabies shot on Halloween night. You see the lighted trees nearing. That’s when you heard it, rhythmic thumbing coming from behind you. When you turn around you let out a scream, the dog is already pouncing on you, knocking you to the ground. You tray to scramble away. You see people’s feet running towards your screams.
The dog latches its mouth onto your leg, when you try to rip it away it only sinks its teeth deeper. You see Zemo come to your aid with a pool cleaner net, swinging it at the dog. “Get away.” He shouts, he ends up cracking the dog on top of his head with the plastic pole. It yelped, causing your leg to fall out of his mouth. He ran for cover, disappearing into the woods. Zemo drops to his knees beside you, shedding his jacket to wrap it around your bleeding leg.
“Are you okay?” Your eyes full with tears, embarrassment was an understatement. You didn’t want to face Zemo or Miranda. You didn’t want to see all the party goers pity filled faces either. You stood up, sucking a breath between your teeth at the pain. You limped past everyone giving eachother confused glances. Ignoring Zemo and Miranda’s fake concern.
You called your dad, sitting on the curb infront of the house. He rushed you to urgent care, spending the rest of the night with you in the waiting room. You were fine in the morning, a shot and a round of antibiotics set you on your way to recovering. You took ibuprofen for the pain. You called off of work for the rest of the week, needing to stay off your feet.
When you returned the next Monday, your boss told you there was a new bus boy. You waited tables all day before you finally saw him. Clocking in and disappearing to wash dishes. He was cute, dark brown hair and light stubble. He didn’t introduce himself to you or Mary, the other waitress, odd. But you had a feeling the little diner would grow on him eventually.
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wintereyed · 3 months
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The Racing AU we all know is coming:
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'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothin' else to compare
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hannibal-solos · 9 months
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The Bloody Baron, Zemo x Reader
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Victorian Vampire!AU
Series Rating: Explicit 18+, Minors DNI
Word count: 1.3k
No warnings, un-beta'd.
“Looking for something?” 
You stop dead in your tracks, debating between dropping your little bag of loot or concealing it behind your back. Between the sounds of the storm outside and the party downstairs, you hadn’t heard anyone else enter the room.
The owner of the dulcet voice glides around to stand in front of you, using a long finger underneath your chin to tilt your head towards their face. 
A man–handsome, with dark compelling eyes, and chestnut brown hair. 
You find your voice, and choose to play things calmly. Your purse is closed, you can pass it off as harmless snooping as long as he doesn’t open the bag. 
“Not–not in particular.” 
He chuckles dryly. 
“If your aim is to rob someone, I suggest having something more specific in mind next time. Helps keep you from wandering aimlessly, which leads to getting caught.” He releases your chin.
“Very sound advice, I’ll have to keep that in mind should I ever go to rob someone.” You give your best charming smile, all while your heart hammers against your ribcage. It’s a party, if you’re caught can you pass it off as the influence of too much wine? That’s it, too much wine turning into adrenaline seeking. Surely you would bring back the objects tomorrow in the cold light of sobriety. 
He quirks an eyebrow, and steps closer, invading your personal space and making you truly need to look up in order to see his face. 
“Tell me then, what would I find in your purse at this very moment?” 
“A comb, some hair pins, lipstick, a powder compact, and a handkerchief.” All true, although you didn’t say you entered the party with those same items, and chose to omit the pocket watch and gold chain. 
“I see.” He gives you a tight smile. “Well then, forgive me, miss, for my assumption.” He steps back, and you regain your breathing room. 
“I will, however, ask you to refrain from exploring the grounds unaccompanied. If you wanted a tour, you need only ask.” 
Your ears burn. This man is very attractive, the smile he flashes you only adding to it. 
“I suppose I didn’t want to be a burden, wouldn’t want to pull anyone away from the party for something so trivial.” 
“Not a burden at all. Please, allow me.” 
He offers you his arm, it’s only when you move to take it that you notice his signet ring. Oh god, he’s only the damn bloody baron. 
“Thank you, Lord Zemo, I’d be delighted to receive a proper tour.” 
“I see my reputation precedes me. May I have the honor of knowing the name of my adventurous houseguest?” 
You give him your name, and do your best to tamp down your nervousness, being caught in the process of your little robbery was one thing, but being caught by the notoriously bloody Baron Zemo whom you were actively robbing is another. His reputation ventured into the stuff of legend, some saying he’d killed more men in his time as a soldier than most would dream of, others whispered that he’d been part of a secret team of special operatives, conducting missions so illicit you’d sooner die than find out the details. Some say these parties are a front for more nefarious activities, though no one seems to know what specifically. 
He gestures to the room at large. 
“The office is not the most interesting room but it is the most well-used. The maps mark out family journeys, the sword was my grandfathers and is largely ceremonial, the rifle, on the other hand, is mine.” 
“Big game hunting or skeet shooting?” You venture a guess. 
He gives you a small smile. 
“Game hunting, once upon a time. I haven’t been out in quite a while, but perhaps my luck may yet turn. I do love the hunt.” 
He navigates you back through the corridors of the house, back to the main staircase. You ask the Baron about the various portraits lining the walls on the staircase, noticing the family resemblance. His eyes light up, seemingly happy to tell you about the more notorious exploits of each family member–from an aunt who allegedly set a romantic rivals’ hair on fire to a great uncle who was capable of producing a whistle so loud it could be heard two acres away. 
You descend the staircase and arrive at the grand ballroom where the other guests dance and make conversation, and then move past it. 
“The dining room is here, although it hasn’t held a dinner party in quite some time.” 
He then takes you towards a set of large doors with their curtains drawn. 
“These lead to the gardens, although tonight is not the night to explore them, I’m afraid. Perhaps another time when the weather is cooperative.” 
You nod your head as you hear the rain crashing down outside, accompanied by a clap of thunder. He leads you down the long hallway off the ballroom. Dimly lit in the evening light, you can barely make out what’s in front of you, thankful you didn’t wander down here on your own. The door squeaks open, and he gestures for you to enter. You hesitate, and then decide to step inside the room. It smells foul, and the sounds of the party seem so distant from here, it’s hard to believe you’re still in the same house. 
You jump when the door slams shut behind you. Zemo lights the torches on the wall, allowing you to truly take in your surroundings. 
Blood. So much blood. It coats the small cot in the corner, as well as the chains hanging from the wall and banded to the floor. You turn around, intending to run for the exit, when you feel Zemo’s hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place.
“Look at me, little one. Look at me.” 
His eyes are blood red, and no matter how much you want to run, scream, or fight, you can’t. Your willpower seemingly dissolved. 
“Very good. Now, I need you to listen, very carefully. You are going to do as I say, and you get to keep your life, nod if you understand.” 
You nod slowly. 
The corners of his mouth lift in a smirk, revealing two razor sharp fangs. 
“Ohh I can just hear the puzzle pieces slotting together in your mind, my dear. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m not the only vampire here.” 
Your eyes widen, and your heart thumps faster in your chest. 
“That’s right. When the dinner bell rings, every living human in that ballroom will be a feast for my friends.” 
Your eyes begin to water as you attempt to steady your panicked breathing. 
He shushes you. “When I caught you, I had planned on killing you for your sheer audacity. Little human parasites, all wanting a taste of power. You wanted it, too. That’s why you came to steal, is it not? But you don’t have a proper thief’s heart. You’re sloppy–wearing a borrowed gown, looking for inconsequential items to pawn to make next month’s rent, no? The only reason you’re alive is your good manners, darling. If you hadn’t taken a genuine interest in myself or my home, your heart would not still beat. So, you’re not going to die, not tonight. You’re going to live. Live in service to me. This is your choice: you can live as a member of my staff, running errands and providing blood and– other services as needed–or, you can join the others in the ballroom, to be devoured by someone far less kind. Make your choice, little one. Use your words.” 
“Service. I want to live. Please, I want to live.” 
He grins, fangs on full display now. 
“Excellent choice.” 
Faintly, you hear the dinner bell ringing.
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