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madameaug · 4 months

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Promise Me || Bucky x Black Reader

Synopsis: This occurs maybe about a year after the events of Captain America: Civil War. The reader is a black woman and should be imagined as such :) Bucky is 37, and the reader is ideally 32/33.

Very angsty (reader and bucky are getting a divorce). Not edited at the moment. First non-BTS imagine/fic so I'm super nervous. I love Marvel too <3

I didn't think forever for us would end so soon. Four years seemingly going down the drain. Two years of dating, eight months of engagement, and barely a year of marriage. I felt like I was giving up. Quitting. Like I wasn't honoring my vows.

Til death do us part.

But when I took those vows I believed I was giving them to James Buchanan Barnes. Who I lovingly refer to as Bucky. A man a slightly older than me, but didn't look a day over thirty. He was the man that I envisioned as a little girl marrying.

A man who was tall, easy on the eyes, with a look of danger, but a heart of gold. Bucky had the perfect mix of both. A veteran turned firefighter. He risked his life daily, saving those in a life-or-death situation. He was second chances, personified for these people. He was a light of hope in the darkness of succumbing to a burning fate. He was a hero.

A hero.

A hero more in the literal sense than what I could have possibly imagined.

Bucky Barnes wasn't a thirty-seven-year-old man who was technologically challenged. Not a man who liked listening to music artist from the 1930s. He was sophisticated and romantic.

Doll was his favorite name to call me. Initially, I thought he was just trying to hard not to use generic pet names like 'baby' or 'bae'. Or that maybe his fascination with the olden days carried into his pet names for his girlfriends. But now I wish the truth was that easy and simple to understand. It didn't involve decades of high-profile assassinations and the bringing down of governments.

One man could bring down an entire government regime.

And that man, is my husband?

My James?

My Bucky?

The man sitting across from me in this stuffy monochrome conference room. Well the conference room was quite large. It's just the tension was sucking out any air circulation.

When I took my vows to James Barnes, I hadn't realized I said them to this 'Winter Soldier' to. A man wanted by hundreds of countries for international crimes that date back to the Kennedy administration. A man hunted down by the Black Panther for killing the king of the most powerful nation.

No, surely there was a mistake.

But I would be foolish to argue with evidence. Pictures of his stalky figure I curled up to several times at night. Blue eyes were the portals to his true thoughts. Shoulder-length hair I raked my fingers through mindlessly when listening to him recount his twelve-hour shift at the station. His wardrobe wasn't anything special, which explains why he could slip under the radar for so long.

That was him. He was responsible but not at the same time. Fourteen hours after being interrogated by Maria Hill, I better understood the double life Bucky The Winter Soldier had been living. Believed to be dead by the Allies, he was held hostage by Karpov, who brainwashed him and tortured him until he became the Winter Soldier. Breaking his mind, and piecing him back together to become he perfect killing machine in human form.

Helmut Zemo managed to get his hands on the book containing the words that activate the Winter Solider. He awakened the monster and manipulated him into the bombings that killed King T'Chaka. He used the Winter Solider to effectively divide and dissolve the Avengers. Zemo was responsible for taking away the Bucky that I knew. The hero.

"I'm glad you and your client could be civil and agree to our demands." Your lawyer, Jennifer Walters, spoke. You and Bucky's lawyer had been talking for twenty minutes, but you couldn't focus on their legal jargon. You were tuned out, tracing your steps on how you and Bucky were sitting in this office. On the opposite end of the table, staring at each other as if we'd become opponents. No longer players on the same team.

Bucky's eyes dragged across to scan Jennifer's face. In his heart he held no misplaced hatred for the woman. She was a professional doing her job, representing the interest of her client. He didn't spend long reading the lists of things that you wanted from the marriage.

The house was yours, he wouldn't dare try to live in that house if you weren't there. It wasn't good for him to stay in open spaces, for too long it freaked him out.

Most of your demands were reasonable and he put up no fight. He didn't want to fight with you. When he finally got his head on straight, he wanted to explain his disappearance. He wanted to be the first person to tell you about the Soviets and the Winter Soldier Program. He wanted to tell you about the bad things that he's done, but his memory was a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. He wasn't sure if you would believe him, until he had all the pieces. When he did come across a piece, he was scared that it would show more harm than he did.

Confirming his belifs that he wasn't worthy of a second chance. That he could find happiness living a solo mundane life. Even with his slow aging, he could blend in his environment and live a good life. He would keep intact what little of his humanity he had left. But after Zemo got his hands on him again that little sliver of his humanity was gone. He was a tool designed for slaughter and destruction. Becoming a firefighter saving people wouldn't undo all the lives he took. Marrying you, the love of his life, wouldn't give him the normalcy he sought. He was reminded of that every time he looked down and saw the metal arm. The brute strength granted him the ability to kill with ease. The same metal arm that would now be a reminder of everything he was getting ready to lose with his wife.

The lawyers summarized the documents, and everything signed up to this point. The deed to the house, papers to change your last name, insurance paperwork, everything was discussed. Bucky even took it upon himself to hand you his 401k from firefighting.

Never had the lawyers seen a divorce proceeding go so smoothly. Usually, they have to clear out the rest of their calendars for divorce calendars. Would today be the day that they get out before the late lunch rush? Oh, let it be true.

Jennifer was smart in her word choice. Avoiding the emotional minefields that the couple has. The room was somber, as you shared your emotional hardships. Dealing with the sudden disappearance of your husband. Preparing for a funeral without a body, dreading adopting the label as a widower. Becoming behind on the mortgage and personal family issues flaring up.

Even though it was emotionally heavy, it was easy to formulate the words. You thought long and hard about what you wanted to say. However, you didn't truly have the words for the physical hardship, which was much more challenging to hide. Your right wrist in a sling. A fracture of the ulna and three smaller bones. The one place Bucky has been fighting with himself not to look.

From an instance of right place, wrong time. It would be your first time revealing the details of your broken wrist out loud. Even when Jennifer asked, you were short with your explanation. But looking at Bucky for probably the last time, you were moved by emotion. Emotions of hurt, frustration, and sorrow.

"I see that you haven't signed the restraining order." You gathered your tone to sound as unemotional and far removed as possible.

"Why?"

"I'm not signing it."

The tension in the room deepens as this is the first time you have directly spoken to Bucky. Your lawyers were doing a lot of the communicating for you.

He didn't want to word vomit his emotions and potentially mispeak. Widening the divide between the two. So he opted to sit in silence, letting his heartbreak in silence. Divorce from the only woman he ever loved was going to take a lifetime to heal. On top of that, a restraining order would send him to an early grave.

"What? I thought you agreed to all of our terms."

"That's why I wanted to talk in person. I cant get myself to agree to this. I can't."

Bucky sat across from you with a plea in his eyes. He didn't want to let go of the connection he spent four years building with you. His heart and mind fought each other for days when he got the divorce paperwork. His heart wanted to fight for the marriage. Fight for the sacred union yall made in front of your friends and family. Fight for the love he knew deep down that you still had for him. But his mind hit him with the harsh truth. You weren't safe around him. Having all these enhanced abilities, having this metal arm could protect you. That it wasn't a curse, but a blessing in disguise.

But that wasn't true. And his brain reminded him of that fact with a mental image of your arm in the sling.

It was before Steve managed to track down Bucky's coordinates to that apartment building. When he was still hiding in plain sight. You just happened to be there. Browsing different vendors, as it was the city was hosting a market.

Bucky was right beside you, you knew his scent from anywhere. And the fact that his head slightly turned in your direction, upon calling him confirmed it.

"Buck is that you?"

You raised a hand to touch his face. "It's me. Remember?" His metal hand gripped yours tightly. His hand clapped down on your wrist, leaving you at the mercy of his strength.

You attempted to snatch your hand back. Eyes swelled with tears, as the pain was escalating. Buck remained silent, as he twisted your wrist, to an almost 180 point.

"STOP IT! JAMES STOP!" Your shriek brought unnecessary attention to him. In a frustrated grunt, he huffed before completing the snap. He walked off into the crowd without looking back at you. Those eyes that were the portals to reading his mind was closed. There was nothing behind those eyes. Even in the presence of his wife, his eyes didn't change. I was a stranger. A stranger that he could very easily hurt with little provocation.

Holding onto your broken wrist you were soon comforted by a stand manager. He got you up on your feet and walked you in the direction of the nearest medical aid.

"Please, Bucky. Let this be a clean break. It's for the best."

"The best for who?" His voice a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "I've been through a lot. We've been through a lot. I want to fight for us. This restraining order snuffs out any chance of us rekindling this."

"We've changed Bucky. The world has changed. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too."

"You are my fresh start. Don't you see!?" Bucky couldn't go into much detail. His lawyer was unaware of his assassin's past. He was more skeptical than ever about what details he shared about his personal life. Lawyer, doctor, psychiatrist or not. There could be more Zemo's looking to play puppet master with his mind.

"Think about your safety."

The lawyers attempt to mediate. They could sense that something was being left out of the conversation. Something that was connected to your arm in the sling. You were standing firm in your position to sever any ties to Bucky. This was the best decision for the both of you.

Bucky didn't have to worry about his superhero work trickling into his personal life. Not having to worry if some vengeful villain would come searching for you, and harm you to even out the score with Bucky. It was just another concern that didn't have to cloud his mind.

While you wouldn't have to worry about Bucky not coming back home. Getting the news from SHIELD agents that Bucky had died protecting the world from some global threat. The heartache would be too much.

"This is getting us nowhere. Did you and your client really come here to waste our time?"

"Mr. Barnes is just as entitled to getting all of his demands met.

The lawyers started bickering. The couple with actual grounds of argue sitting in silence. You spoke up first, your raised voice silencing the room.

"I'm not asking you to change who you are. I know you've been through a lot. And it is a lot." You reached your hand out to grasp his. You wanted to convey that your heart was full of love for Bucky. You could see a broken and scared man in front of you. A man with more skeletons in his closet than you would like to imagine. But you loved him. And with that love, you had to make the tough choices for both of you.

"You need space and time to collect yourself. Fight those battles in your mind. Get better and heal."

A singular tear runs down your cheek and hits the wooden table as you continue spilling your heart out.

"I love you. I love all of you, and I forgive you. You were unwell and need true help. As much as I want to remove that pain from you, I know that I can't. My love isn't enough. Sometimes love requires letting go. Let me go. Please."

"Even when I was sick, I still had dreams of you. I couldn't make out your face, but I found myself reliving our dates. The time I took you to the drive-thru movies. You said I made you feel like you were in high school again. Or the time I accidentally used all your leave in conditioner on wash day.

Then I started dreaming of a family with you. Raising mini versions of ourselves away from the chaos my life brought. The woods were our backyard, and we were happy. With you I was happy. I still want to make that dream a reality. I'm willing to give up anything to ensure our future."

You listened to his plea. You could tell he was genuine. He would if he could give up his enhanced abilities to be with you. No doubt about it. However, you knew that Bucky was meant for something greater. When he was a soldier who fought the good fight. He was destined to be a hero. A would-be alongside Captain America, fighting threats the world doesn't know about. Ensuring that we live in a world, where us regular people wouldn't have to.

"I can't be the reason you give that up, Buck." You said gently. "It's a part of who you are. Even when you've made mistakes, I've seen you try to right your wrongs. That's the Bucky I know, the hero."

The room was silent again filled with emotion. Bucky had to come to terms that yall were on different paths. Two paths diverged into a left and right. That even under the premise of love, you were right. Bucky was too vulnerable. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. The Winter Soldier was an ugly part of him that he had to live with. He has to make room for that identity instead of pretending it never existed.

He would be working with Steve and Sam Wilson on hunting down any of the remaining Winter Soldiers. He was thrusting himself into danger. Danger that he didn't want you to be apart of, danger that he felt responsible to end.

You leaned over to whisper in Jennifer's ears. Maybe the restraining order was too much. You were making a rash decision that you may come to regret in the future. Jennifer following the request of her client, placed the restraining order papers in the shredder.

"My client had a change of mind." She stood up packing up all the signed papers in her briefcase.

"Well all the paperwork is signed, our work is done here."

The divorce meeting came to a close and both parties went their separate ways. There you stood discussing the next steps with Jennifer. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky alone. He waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Jennifer took her cue to dismiss herself. With your eyes low, you carefully walked down the courthouse steps to stand before Bucky.

"Promise me we will find a way back to each other."

"I can't promise that Bucky. And you shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"I would keep that promise. I would stake my life on it." He brought your left hand to his chest. Your wedding ring still on your finger. You hadn't thought about when you would take it off.

"Promise me." His lips were a few inches away from yours. Your eyes were conversing in another language of their own. Saying their goodbyes, and final 'I love yous.'

You brought Bucky into your arms. Arms wrapping around his shoulder as you cried silently to yourself. Bucky tightened his arms around you, his warms rubbing circles in your back. A hypnotizing pattern that would put you to sleep. It was settling over the both of you that this could be the last time that you held one another like this.

You let go of the hug first. Your hand on his chiseled face again. This time not worried that he would harm you again.

"I love you." You laid a tender kiss on his lips. Capturing your affection and goodbyes.

"Promise me." Bucky spoke during the kiss. "Promise me Doll."

You placed your thumb over his lip. You looked deep into his eyes. He was hanging onto every word that you said. Bucky's phone rings, breaking the staring contest you had. To no ones surprise, Steve was on the other end. A bitter reminder of the double life that Bucky was apart of.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I promise."

Bucky leaves a passing kiss on your lips before walking away from the courthouse. He picked up the phone, walking with haste. In a few short seconds, a red-headed woman joined him on his side.

My hero.

My Bucky.

#black writers #marvel x black!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #captain america civil war #winter soldier #x black reader #x black fem reader #madameaug #angst #marvel angst #black woman x bucky barnes

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

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Marvel Masterlist

Updated Masterlist - HERE -

🜹♡🜹 Steve Rogers 🜹♡🜹

Mirror, Mirror

⤷ Steve Rogers X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 999

Homework Help

⤷ Steve Rogers X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.3k

Five Times

⤷ Steve Rogers X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 4.9k

Reunion Disaster

⤷ Steve Rogers X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 3.4k

Steve Rogers Series Masterlist

—

🜹♡🜹 Bucky Barnes 🜹♡🜹

Under The Surface

⤷ Bucky Barnes X GN Reader - Fluff - 1.9k

What A Reunion

⤷ (Hitman) Bucky Barnes X Female (CEO) Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.9k

Nails

⤷ Bucky Barnes X Female Reader - Fluff - 2.9k

🜹♡🜹 Tony Stark 🜹♡🜹

Lips Like Sugar

⤷ Tony Stark X Female Reader - Slight Angst and Fluff - 3.2k

🜹♡🜹 Peter Parker Tom 🜹♡🜹

Marry Me, Today, And Every Day

⤷ Peter Parker X Female (Stark) Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.0k

Knock Knock, Who’s There

⤷ Peter Parker X Male Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 536

A Prom Night To Remember

⤷ Peter Parker X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 4.0k

Figures In The Dark

⤷ Peter Parker X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.5k

Jock

⤷ Peter Parker X (Tall) Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 3.5k

My Sky Of Gray

⤷ Peter Parker X Female Reader - Fluff and Angst - 2.1k

Spidey’s Secret Short Series ↴

Spidey’s Secret

⤷ Peter Parker X Female Reader - Fluff and Angst - 2.5k

Forgive And Churro

⤷ Peter Parker X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 735

🜹♡🜹 Peter Parker Andrew 🜹♡🜹

Squish

⤷ Peter Parker X GN Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.6k

Pretty Tutor

⤷ Peter Parker X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 4.2k

Peter Parker Series Masterlist

—

🜹♡🜹 Loki 🜹♡🜹

Let’s Play Dress Up

⤷ (Comic) Lady Loki X Male Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 869

Sorry Not Sorry

⤷ Loki Odinson X Male Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 789

You Don’t Have to Prove Anything

⤷ Loki Odinson X GN Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 569

Meeting And Dating Loki Odinson Would Include:

⤷ Loki Odinson X GN Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 945

Flattery Gets You Nowhere

⤷ Loki Odinson X Female (Strange) Reader - Angst - 2.4k

Beauty And The Beast Masterlist ↴

Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst

Chapter 1 Once Upon A Time… Chapter 2 A Simple Rose Chapter 3 Take His Place

🜹♡🜹 Thor Odinson 🜹♡🜹

Meeting And Dating Thor Odinson Would Include:

⤷ Thor Odinson X GN Reader - Fluff - 1.1k

A Worthy Prank

⤷ Thor Odinson X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.8k

Frog Prince

⤷ Thor Odinson X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.6k

🜹♡🜹 Natasha Romanoff 🜹♡🜹

Chocolate Ice Cream

⤷ Natasha Romanoff X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 2.9k

🜹♡🜹 Helmut Zemo 🜹♡🜹

Life Of Luxury

⤷ Helmut Zemo X Female Reader - Fluff - 1.0k

Never Gonna Give You Up

⤷ Helmut Zemo X Female Reader - Fluff - 932

Free

⤷ Helmut Zemo X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 2.5k

🜹♡🜹 Johnny Storm 🜹♡🜹

Just A Kiss

⤷ Johnny Storm X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 2.2k

Burning Flame

⤷ Johnny Storm X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.5k

Part 2 of Just A Kiss

🜹♡🜹 Scott Lang 🜹♡🜹

Irresistible

⤷ Scott Lang X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 2.0k

Monsters vs Aliens

⤷ Scott Lang X Daughter Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.7k

Black Widow Baby

⤷ Scott Lang X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 2.5k

🜹♡🜹 Wade Wilson 🜹♡🜹

What A Surprise

⤷ Wade Wilson X GN Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.2k

Manic Monday

⤷ Wade Wilson X GN Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.4k

🜹♡🜹 M'Baku 🜹♡🜹

Black Widow Baby

⤷ M'Baku X Female Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 2.5k

🜹♡🜹 Pietro Maximoff 🜹♡🜹

Grim Reaper

⤷ Pietro Maximoff X GN Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 722

🜹♡🜹 Everett Ross 🜹♡🜹

Unlikely Partners

⤷ Everett Ross X Female (Avenger) Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 4.3k

A Wall Through Hell (Choose Your Own Adventure) Series

Avenger X GN Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst

Chapter 1 - Overwhelmed

Chapter 2 - Darling Diner

Chapter 3 - Hypnotize Me

2022 - 2024 © Justsomerandonfanfic

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nocapesdahling · 2 years

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Life Eternal

Helmut Zemo x F! Reader

My Masterlist

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

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

Rating: M (18+, Minors DNI please)

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

Word Count: 9.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

While you deliberated, he continued to watch you patiently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasped, “Hel…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

You had taken too long already.

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

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

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

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

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

He was so dramatic and you loved it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And your wife?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And he’s your Captain America?”

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

Sam sighed, “Here we go again.”

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback:

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

You closed yours with a snap and placed it down.

“My Hel.”

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

“Yes.” His voice was giddy with anticipation.

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

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

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

End Flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Masterlist

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nekoannie-chan · 9 months

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Week 29 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 29 2023 or Week 185, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my July reblog masterlist 2023 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 29 2023:

Popsicle pup (Clint Barton X Reader) by @mrs-maximoff-kenner💚

Pay attention! (Miguel O’Hara X Reader) by @xenooshi💙

The sweetest thing (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @wint3r-h3art ❤️

Fade to black chapter 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

Lover (Evan Buckley X Reader) by @mvltisstuff💚

The divine feminine (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @rogersideup💚

The world (Helmut Zemo X Reader) by @alwayssunnyinedensgate💚

Fade to black chapter 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

When you act jealous (Spiderverse characters X Reader) by @angelltheninth💚

About offices and feelings (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @welldonebeca 💚❤️

Protected chapter 1 (Steve Rogers X OC) by @astheskycries 💚

Fade to black chapter 5 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

Apple pie (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy ❤️🖤

A close shave (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mochie85 💚❤️

Protected chapter 2 (Steve Rogers X OC) by @astheskycries 💚

Fade to black chapter 6 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

Home Sweet Home Chapter 8: Set it on fire! (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow 💚💙❤️

Worst minions ever part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @holylulusworld 💚💙

Protected chapter 3 (Steve Rogers X OC) by @astheskycries 💚

Fade to black chapter 7 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

Tell me why (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @chasingmarvel💙

Worst minions ever part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @holylulusworld 💚💙

Protected chapter 4 (Steve Rogers X OC) by @astheskycries 💚

Fade to black chapter 8 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

Gentle soul (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stargazingfangirl18 💙❤️

Worst minions ever part 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @holylulusworld 💚💙

Protected chapter 5 (Steve Rogers X OC) by @astheskycries 💚

Fade to black chapter 9 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @caplanbuckybarnes 💚💙

#Annie recommends #stardust reblog challenge

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mlmxreader · 1 year

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Snow Day | Helmut Zemo x m!reader

anonymous asked: Helmut with And this one's for you

summary: you and Zemo get to spend the day together, only it's the weather that makes you actually have a plan for the day.

tws: swearing, smoking, mentions of violence

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Snow was coming down thick and heavy, blanketing the outside the same way that a duvet would, completely covering and swallowing everything it touched; it was early, the clock hardly touching seven o'clock in the morning, and already Zemo could feel the bed beside him was cold and barren, and the smell of coffee was hard to ignore as he dragged himself out of bed.

The clouds were a thick grey, almost black as they clung to the pale grey coloured skies; the wind howled against the window frames and the doors, begging to be let inside, and the ice made everything so slick that even pigeons couldn't cling to the branches of densely covered trees. Zemo sighed when he saw you in the kitchen, standing in front of a white canvas; he tilted his head to the side as he let out a yawn.

His hair, usually so neat and so tidy, often slicked and combed so that every single strand would sit properly, was messy; sticking up this way and that way, ruffled and unkempt. A reminder of what had happened the previous night, as well as how he had tossed and turned in his sleep every time you broke the way that he held you so tightly; bags under his dark brown eyes, and even worse, his scruff was starting to grow out again.

The chill of the air was the first thing to hit his bare chest, making his breath hitch as he clenched his jaw slightly; it crept down to his bare legs, nearly gracing the waistband of his boxers as he wished that he had thought twice and had put his dressing gown on. Or brought the duvet with him.

"Mein Bärchen?"

You hummed as you looked at him, a smile coming to your lips as you gestured for him to stand next to you. "It's snowing."

"I can see that."

"I'm just thinking," you started, "the last time we were together when it snowed, when we spent all day watching horror films, all snuggled up."

He nodded slowly, his hand coming to the small of your back as he dared to flash you a tired smile, doing his best not to yawn and not to shiver. Fuck, you were so warm. All wrapped up in his hoodie, a pair of thick and soft pyjama bottoms, fuzzy socks; he wished he had thought of that.

"And you want to do it again?"

You nodded, daring to meet his gaze as you raised your brows a little bit. So fucking hopeful that he worried it would almost kill you. "Please? If you're not busy helping Captain America, that is."

Zemo scoffed, shaking his head as he let out a quiet hum, dipping his hand under your hoodie and grumbling at how warm you felt against him. "I think we could probably arrange it."

"Really?"

"Natürlich," he shrugged. "Anything for mein geliebter... mein Mann."

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were too tired to do so as you broke away from him, forcing a sigh from the back of his throat as he shook his head and took a seat at the breakfast bar; it was his turn to pose in front of the white canvas this time, and before he could say anything, you were already taking a picture on your phone, making him smile as he wondered what could possibly go wrong.

Last time, he had the Punisher threatening him, as well as the infamous Wolverine; he wondered if they would do it again, given that they were your self-appointed bodyguards. That always made him laugh. They weren't bodyguards, just overprotective friends of yours... but, taking pictures made you happy, and Zemo would do anything to keep you that way.

He didn't say anything as you made two cups of coffee, merely watching you with the sort of tender curiosity that came with being together for so long; the first time he had met you was so long ago, now, but the memory was still fresh as wounding from barbed wire. He happened to be sitting in a little café with Sam when you had strolled in with Frank; he thought you were handsome from the moment he saw you, and when he heard your voice, he knew he had never heard a complaint about music in the car sound so good before.

Nothing changed since. He still knew you were handsome, still reminded you of it every time he got the chance; still loved to hear you talk, no matter what the subject was. Still loved to hear you laugh and to see your smile. You still took his breath away when you dressed up in the fancy suits and tuxedos he bought you for when he took you out; only ever the finest for the Baron's boyfriend. Fuck, you still took his breath away when you were wearing stained jogging bottoms and a ratty old hoodie.

"And this one's for you," you gently pushed the mug across the breakfast bar. "Biscuits?"

Zemo thought about it for a moment, pursing his lips before he nodded. "Sure."

He took the opportunity to check you out as you rummaged for them in the cupboard, chewing at the inside of his lip and trying not to say anything, but he couldn't stop himself.

"You look so good today."

You grinned as you brought the biscuits down, shaking your head as you scoffed. "You tell me that every day."

"And?" He raised a brow. "You look good every day."

"You're terrible," you told him, taking a swig from your coffee. "Smoke?"

"I'd love one," he agreed. "So, horror films and blankets today?"

You nodded as you started to roll cigarettes. "Unless there's anything you wanna do?"

"Be with you," Zemo said softly. "As always, mein Mann... you know I'm happy as long as you're happy."

You rolled your eyes but your smile didn't fade, and he knew that he had you exactly where he had wanted you; trying not to laugh, grinning, happier than a pig in shit. You were everything to him, all he needed from you was to see you happy, to see you smile, and he would do anything to make sure of it; if you said it would make you happy, Zemo would have gladly beheaded kings and stabbed princes, he would have happily brought palaces down to rubble and dust. Anything for his beloved, for his man.

Anything for you.

"Come here," he gestured, and when you were close enough, he grabbed you, and swiftly pulled you down onto his lap. His arms around you securely, kissing your neck ever so softly. "Whatever you want to do, mein geliebter, I will happily go along with you."

"What if I said I wanted to go for a hike?"

"I'd go with you," he told you sincerely. "Du bist mein Herz. Just don't go anywhere I can't follow."

"I'm messing," you laughed softly, grinning. "I'm perfectly happy to just laze on the sofa with you..."

"As am I," Zemo agreed. "So, is it a date?"

"It's a date."

"Now," he gently bit at your skin. "Do you want me to finish rolling?"

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duckybarnes1917 · 2 years

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Figure My Heart Out - Chapter 6

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: We return to the main storyline, picking up where chapter 4 left off. After fighting off Nicolo and Luka, who are working for the Power Broker, Chanel is having a mental tug of war between who she thinks she is and who she wants to be. Zemo has convinced her that she doesn't need to change and should be proud of who she is. Sam goes to bed upset with Chanel, but slowly softening after his talk with Bucky. Bucky is left confused after Chanel coldly pushes him away. What happens now when an all too familiar face appears in Chanel's room?

Warnings: Light smut, unhealthy relationships, mild torture (nothing gruesome or gory); slight, accidental anti-US government sentiments (oops, it just slipped out). 18+only.

A silky voice slithered into Chanel’s consciousness, dragging her out of a nightmare. She slowly opened her eyes, “Stephan?”

“Yes, Schatz, it’s me; I hope I didn’t frighten you. You were having a bad dream.”

Chanel shot up, and Stephan turned on the lamp on the bedside table. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he took her in.

She was just as sinfully angelic as he had remembered. He had really tried to stay away, knowing he would only hurt himself by seeing her again. But he had to make sure she was okay; the thought of her being hurt had sent him into a panic. His anger returned as he remembered why he was there.

Chanel’s eyes widened in shock at the presence of his handsome, chiseled face in front of hers. He was dressed as always in a black button-down designer shirt, black chino pants, and expensive leather loafers. The alluring subtle scent of the Gucci Guilty cologne he wore invited her to indulge in her deepest desires. She reached out to touch him, afraid he was a whisper of a dream she would forget by dawn.

“You’re not dreaming.” Stephan chuckled as her hand continued to explore his face as if she was familiarizing herself with a treasure, she thought was long lost.

Despite his grin, Chanel readily picked up on the anxiety that soured his features.

“What are you doing here?” Chanel wanted to run her fingers through his hair but knew better than to mess it up. She settled for twisting her fingers through his instead.

“Did you think I wouldn’t immediately return after receiving that phone call this evening? By the way, I don’t appreciate you not calling me back.”

Chanel rolled her eyes, “you really didn’t need to come home. You worry too much. I told you I would handle it.”

“That you did. But you can’t blame me; how could I sit in Madrid knowing that you and Manfred were being threatened?”

He gently caressed her face, and Chanel relented, knowing she would have felt the same way if the roles were reversed.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

Stephan waved off her apology, “I would have come anyway; Manfred was quite insistent. Plus, you shouldn’t have had to clean up this mess.”

“I told you, it’s just as much my mess as it is yours.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel that way because I need your help.”

“Now? It’s past midnight.”

“Yes. You were effective in dealing with Nicolo tonight, but we cannot allow his disloyalty and disrespect to go unpunished.”

“You think I didn’t punish him?” Chanel challenged a hint of insecurity in her voice.

“I know you did.” Stephan smiled at her proudly and brushed his hand over her hair. He liked when she wore it messy. It reminded him of the lioness caged inside, trying to claw its way out.

“But the rest of them need to know that we are serious. I won’t have this happen again. The Power Broker needs to mind his place.”

Chanel nodded; Zemo had been right. This was serious. Her loyalty to Stephan and Manfred, and her guilt at being part of the problem, was enough to override the voice in her head telling her to stop him.

She jumped out of bed and flicked the light on. “One of our guests may be interested in helping us. But we can’t wake the other two.”

Moving quickly, she discarded her sleep shorts and pulled a pair of black jeans over her bodysuit before stuffing her feet into her combat boots.

Stephan handed her a leather jacket from the wardrobe with a knowing grin. “Still keeping secrets from your friends?”

Chanel shrugged into the jacket. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have any friends.”

Stephan chuckled as he grabbed hold of her hand, stopping her from heading to the door. “Hold on. Give me a moment to just look at you.” He placed both of his big hands on her face, “I missed you.”

Chanel could feel the excitement that only Stephan could elicit blooming. Zemo’s words rang in her head, never shy away from that part of yourself. Stephan, more than anyone, appreciated and accepted that part of her without condition. She knew it wouldn’t last, but she felt whole again by his side. She was going to allow herself that much. She needed it.

“I missed you too,” she whispered.

They stared at each other for a beat, a silent exchange of apologies and forgiveness passing between them, before he removed his hands and opened the door.

Chanel and Zemo were taken aback by the plethora of weapons Stephan had laid out in his study.

“Are we going to take out the entire town?” Chanel asked as she led Zemo into the room.

“Only if necessary,” Stephan replied without looking up.

“Steph, this is Baron Helmut Zemo.”

Stephan looked up at Chanel in surprise, “The same Helmut Zemo that is supposed to be in prison right now?”

“The very same. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Zemo shook Stephan’s hand as he appraised him, noticing just a slight nervousness in his eyes.

Zemo’s curiosity had gotten the best of him when Chanel had appeared in his room, quite agitated. This certainly hadn’t been what he was expecting; he was starting to learn that anticipating her next move would not be an easy task.

Stephan raised his eyebrows, “The pleasure is mine. Chanel, you never cease to impress me.”

Chanel grinned slightly at the praise before turning back to the weapons laid out in front of her.

Her eyes scanned the display, looking for something in particular, her lips pulling down in a frown when she didn’t find it.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” Stephan grinned at her knowingly. He pulled a box out of his safe and opened it for her.

Her lips curled into a small smile as she ran her hands over the cool metal of her old daggers and guns. She picked up her favorite, a 7-inch Fairbairn-Sykes dagger, and lightly ran her fingertip over the smooth blade.

Stephan watched Chanel with rapt attention as if she was performing just for him. His eyes followed her movements curiously as she put the dagger back, and her hand hovered over the other weapons. Finally, when she settled on a 9mm pistol, he nodded in approval.

Zemo observed silently from his position near the table; Chanel proved to be more interesting than he had anticipated. He watched as Stephan put the box back in the safe and returned with ammo and a gun holster. When Stepan grabbed her wrist and slowly inserted the magazine into the pistol without breaking eye contact with her, Zemo almost looked away, feeling like he was intruding.

Chanel’s breath hitched as the click of the magazine punctuated the tension radiating between her and Stephan. She was almost embarrassed at how quickly she was falling back into rank for him. However, the feeling vacated her body when he lightly grabbed her hips and turned her around, her back flush against his chest and her gaze catching Zemo’s across the room.

Neither of them broke eye contact as Stephan knelt down, his hands never leaving her body, to fasten the holster to her thigh.

Chanel smirked when Zemo broke first, his eyes leaving hers to rake down her body. “See anything you like?”

Zemo’s eyes snapped back up to hers, and she nodded in the direction of the weapons table.

“Zemo, please, what's mine is yours,” Stephan added, his hands still resting on Chanel’s hips.

Chanel restrained her giggle at the unintended meaning of Stephan’s words.

Zemo cleared his throat, as if the action would somehow dislodge the stakes she was slowly sinking into him, and refocused on the artillery.

As Chanel watched him, she found that she kept having to remind herself that he was a terrorist. It was hard to remember when he looked so enticing in his element, his hypnotic fingers dancing delicately over the weapons, a flippant smile at the corners of his lips. Her hands were itching to brush the one strand of cognac brown hair over his eye back into place.

Zemo felt her eyes on him and peeked up at her; her eyes followed his hands closely. Now it was his turn to smirk. Two could play at this game.

Chanel finally looked up and saw him staring at her, his head cocked to the side with a cocky grin on his face.

Shit, he’s doing that on purpose.

She narrowed her eyes and spun away from his smug face to search for the ammo he needed.

After composing herself, Chanel handed him the magazines. "I trust that this will stay between us?”

“Of course, my dear. My lips are sealed.”

“Excellent.” She turned back to Stephan, “Steph, let’s do this.”

Stephan grabbed her hand and kissed her forehead, his excitement increasing in sync with his anger.

He led them outside, where Manfred was already waiting in a black SUV. The previous thunderstorm had left behind an eerily calm feeling in the chilly night air. One last crack of thunder sounded as Chanel got into the car, making her shiver involuntarily.

“This is all very clandestine. You did not lie when you said you were a guaranteed good time,” Zemo said as he slid into the back seat next to Chanel.

Stephan, growing more possessive as his excitement increased, climbed into the car on the other side of Chanel. He kept his arm around her, pinning her to his side.

Zemo felt that they would be engaging in much more explicit forms of PDA if he hadn't been there.

Chanel had a fleeting feeling of doubt as they pulled away from the house and left Sam and Bucky behind.

I have to do this. For Steph and Manfred, it’s my fault, and I can’t leave them in danger.

The feeling of Stephan’s lips grazing her ear as he whispered sweet nothings to her in German further cemented her decision.

Once this is handled, I can repent.

“Stephan, I do have to ask. What was it that you took from your old friend Dante after the failed deal with the Power Broker?” Zemo asked.

Stephan eyed him suspiciously and shot an annoyed look at Chanel, “I never found out what it was. It was just a small briefcase with a few vials in it. Some kind of vaccine, I think.”

Zemo tried to hide his increased interest, simply nodding.

“I was glad that we hadn’t gone through with the deal. It seemed overpriced.”

“What did you end up doing with the vials?” Zemo asked flatly as he looked disinterestedly out his window

Stephan tensed, “I destroyed them as payback for cutting us out of the deal.”

Zemo nodded his head, and the conversation died.

A slight tension filled the car as Manfred approached Nicolo’s warehouse.

He parked and cut the engine.

“They all pay, but leave Nicolo for me.” Stephan led the way to the warehouse, his AR-style rifle held out in front of him.

Chanel and Zemo unholstered their weapons and turned the safety off as they got closer to the door. The silence of the night heightened their adrenaline; it buzzed around them like a force field.

Stephan held up his hand to stop them when he reached the door. He peeked through an open window and saw several men working and talking inside.

“It looks like they’re all here. They didn’t expect me to come back home.”

“Let’s do this.” Chanel pushed Stephan forward.

“Patience. Listen.” Stephan snapped.

The harshness of his voice surprised Zemo, and he looked to Chanel, waiting for her to rebuff him. But, instead, Chanel did what she was told and strained to hear the conversation happening in the warehouse.

Nicolo’s voice rose above the others, “Listen! The Power Broker won’t give us another chance to give that bitch what she deserves. Others have already failed before us. We go tonight, all of us this time. You focus on taking out the other threats, including the old man, and leave the princess for me. No survivors.”

Chanel didn’t have time to process what she was hearing before Stephan kicked the door down and burst into the warehouse, spraying bullets wildly.

Chanel stood aghast for a moment; she had expected a stealthier plan of action. But, as Nicolo’s words fully sunk in and her anger grew, she quickly followed Stephan into the room. She used his cover fire to make her way behind a flipped-over table. Zemo hesitated as he watched Chanel disappear into the chaos of blood and bullets. He caught sight of another entrance and opted for the less direct approach; he had more important things to do other than fight with drug dealers.

Chanel focused her fire on the men getting too close to Stephan, hitting them in the arm or leg to disable them. Less than a minute had passed, and all the targets in the first room were down, but Nicolo had fled as soon as the bullets started flying. Chanel followed Stephan through the next door as they hunted him down.

Chanel moved elegantly, dodging bullets and fists and wounding anyone that got in her way.

As a burly man lunged at her with a large knife, she shot him in the knee and quickly turned her back to shoot another approaching man in the arm. She jumped at the loud ring of a gunshot right behind her and then saw a bullet hit the target she had just maimed through the eyes.

“You’re pulling your punches. This one almost stabbed you from behind.” Stephan chided her as he continued forward through the warehouse.

Chanel huffed but bit her tongue, now wasn’t the time to start a fight. As she continued slinking through the dark hallways, she ruminated on the complaints she didn’t voice aloud.

Something is off about him. He’s being needlessly reckless; what the hell was his plan anyway? Busting the door down was beyond stupid.

And what was with the possessiveness in the car?

He’s never been that insecure.

Maybe this all just got to him. Understandable.

Stephan was growing frustrated at searching for his primary target, and Chanel suggested they split up. “Just let me know if you find him, don’t do anything alone.”

“Be careful,” Stephan whispered before he left her.

Chanel stalked silently through another dim room. The wind was knocked out of her when she was attacked from the shadows and thrown against the wall. Her gun clanked loudly as it hit the ground and slid away from her. In the glint of the moonlight, she barely saw the blade of a large knife that came for her. Two shots rang out and the assailant, and knife, dropped to the floor.

Zemo came into view. He had avoided joining in on the violence until now. Unnecessary bloodshed was not his style.

“Thanks.” Chanel caught her breath as Zemo helped her off the floor.

“Where have you been? I was afraid you ran off,” Chanel whispered as they prowled through the warehouse together.

“And leave you in danger? I wouldn’t dream of—" Before he could finish his sentence, Chanel had shoved him out of the path of an oncoming bullet as she whirled around and fired in the assailant’s direction. The bullets hit his knee and shoulder, and a loud thud resounded as he hit the floor.

“You were saying?” Chanel kicked the gun out of reach and continued forward as Zemo rejoined her side.

“I don’t have a hand in this fight, but I had a suspicion. So I searched the building, but I came up empty.”

“Hmm.” Chanel had stopped listening; she was getting frustrated at how long this was taking. The longer they remained inside the building, the more time they gave Nicolo’s back up to show up. “I’m beginning to think he’s not here.”

A scream followed by a loud crash sounded from the next room, and Chanel and Zemo hurried towards it.

Chanel burst into the room first, her eyes sweeping the room for threats. Stephan had found Nicolo and Luka. His gun had been discarded on the floor. Luka was already slumped over in the corner, bleeding from his chest.

Nicolo was getting up off the floor. Chanel noticed the crumbling wall where his body had clearly made contact. She tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Did Steph throw him against the wall?

That’s not possible.

Chanel hurried to Stephan’s side, ignoring the confusion as her anger took the driver’s seat in her mind.

Zemo hung back and watched; he knew immediately what gave Stephan the ability to punch a man across a room and into a wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Chanel placed her hand gently on Stephan’s arm.

He smiled at her, “got carried away. Be my guest.” He waved his hand in Nicolo’s direction.

“Please,” Nicolo whimpered as Chanel stalked towards him.

She turned his head to the side to see the mark she had left on his neck earlier that evening. He had it crudely bandaged, and it was bleeding profusely.

“Begging is not a good look on you,” Chanel said flatly before her tone switched, her words coming out in a sinister purr. “It’s out of my hands now. You knew better.”

Chanel hadn’t intended on hurting him again, but she was furious at the thought of this man harming those she had cared about, those she felt responsible for. Without thinking, she pulled her gun and shot him in the foot.

After his screaming subsided, she met his eyes, “that was for attempting to harm what is mine.”

His anguish didn’t bring her any peace; it only flamed the aggression coursing through her.

She put a bullet in the other foot, and Nicolo crumpled to the floor in agony. She loomed over him, “and that was for touching me.”

Stephan placed his hands on her shoulders, “he touched you?”

“He tried.”

Chanel’s gun was still pointing at Nicolo, now trained on his kneecap.

I shouldn’t. Walk away before you do something else you’ll regret later.

“What are you waiting for?” Stephan whispered in her ear.

Chanel turned her head to look at him. He raised his eyebrow; the question he was asking didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Was she going to please him or not?

Stephan read some minute change in her expression, and a sly grin crept onto his face. He grabbed her hand and raised her aim from Nicolo’s kneecap to his stomach, where it would cause the most pain.

“Do it.” He commanded.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled the trigger, immediately turning to search out admiration in Stephan’s eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her ear.

Zemo was enthralled; she had become a different person.

Chanel’s heart rate slowed as Stephan’s praise washed over her. She stepped back and watched Stephan roll up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt. Her eyes lingering on the toned muscles of his forearms.

He squatted down to look Nicolo in the eye. Then, without saying anything, he grabbed his hand and slowly squeezed it until Chanel heard the bones crack.

She watched as he repeated the action on the other hand.

Is that possible?

“Why don’t you and the Baron go wait in the car? I’ll finish cleaning up here.” Stephan’s voice was dark, and Chanel knew better than to argue.

She grabbed Zemo’s hand, and they rushed to the car, leaving Nicolo’s screaming behind them.

She didn’t enjoy it, but torture was not unfamiliar to Chanel, both in the U.S. government and outside of it. She knew Stephan only resorted to it when it was truly deserved. At least that’s what she told herself to keep the guilt away.

“What an interesting evening. Is this how you spent most nights here undercover?” Zemo studied her closely as they sat in the car waiting on Stephan.

“If you’re asking if I make a habit out of murder and torture, no, I don’t.”

“But it doesn’t bother you.”

Chanel laughed shortly. “I’m a spy for the U.S. government. Steph is merciful compared to the things I have seen done to men much less deserving than this one, all in the pursuit of freedom.”

Chanel knew the excuse was weak, but why should she care what Zemo thought. He had certainly done worse things in his lifetime. Being honest with him was as easy as breathing.

“He might be testing that limit tonight.”

“Out of sight, out of mind.” Chanel leaned forward, resting her elbows on the front seats, her eyes laser-focused on the exit, waiting on Stephan to appear.

Zemo decided against mentioning his theory about what Stephan had taken from Dante all those months ago. If he was right, he was outgunned and certainly outnumbered; he was sure Chanel would not be on his side. Not yet, anyway.

“I’m glad that you decided to take my advice; a surprise attack in the middle of the night would have been hard to defend against.”

“I might have to listen to you more often.” Chanel turned back to give Zemo a wink and a smile.

The adrenaline rushing through her veins had her almost giddy. The high she had was fueling her, and she felt fully transformed into her old identity as Frau Thomas. The realization of this titillated her more; finally, she was getting what she had been searching for. She wasn’t going to let it go easily.

A moment later, Stephan came out of the warehouse. He threw an empty gas can on the ground and calmly made his way to the car. He opened the trunk, and they watched him walk a few paces in front of the car with a grenade launcher. With one shot, the warehouse was in the process of burning down. Stephan turned cooly and placed the weapon back in the trunk before sliding into the back seat.

Chanel was still leaning forward in her seat, watching the flames reach up to the sky.

“Quite impressive,” Zemo said to Stephan as he admired the look on Chanel’s face.

She was exhilarated, proud, set free. She was born for this. It was evident to Zemo that she didn’t belong with Sam and Bucky.

He imagined for a moment what it would be like to have her by his side on his missions. His lips whispering praises in her ear as they reveled in their violent delights, keeping the violent ends at bay. His daydream was interrupted when Stephan pulled her into a kiss. He respectfully looked out the window as Manfred drove them back to the villa.

Stephan whispered to Chanel, “du bist ein Schatz.”

“I know,” Chanel muttered against his lips. The joy that consumed her from making Stephan happy left no room for doubt or guilt about what she had done.

She turned to Zemo with a bright smile, “Thank you for coming with us, Helmut.”

Zemo was taken aback when she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

This is what you wanted, just part of the plan. She’s falling for it.

Zemo continued silently, trying to convince himself that was all it was as he watched Stephan pull Chanel back to his side. He shot her a look that Zemo didn’t like but that Chanel ignored.

“It was my pleasure,” he started, “I am concerned, though. The Power Broker sent Nicolo to kill you, and he said others had already tried.”

Chanel had already forgotten about the exchange they overheard but had not had time to process. She leaned away from Stephan and sat up, alert. “You’re right. I haven’t been attacked. Well, other than my Paris mission going south.” She paused as she thought, making connections quickly.

“What happened in Paris?” Stephan asked, concerned.

“My cover was blown; I didn’t know how but now I think I do. But how could the Power Broker have even known I was in Paris?”

“The Power Broker knows everything. Especially when he wants something from you, especially when that something is your life.” Zemo didn’t even have to lie for dramatics. Everything he said was a simple fact. “It’s too bad you destroyed the vaccine you stole. Are you sure there isn’t any left? Maybe giving it back would keep the Power Broker off her back.” Zemo feigned innocence as he made his suggestion to Stephan.

“No, I told you I destroyed it all.” He didn’t look at Zemo, keeping his eyes on Chanel. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Stephan kept his arm wrapped around Chanel’s shoulders as they walked inside the house. The incandescent moon cast malevolent shadows across the grand space.

“Shall we have a celebratory drink?” Stephan asked as he steered Chanel to the bar. He waved Zemo over.

“Normally I would, but I think it best that I retire for the night. We do have to be up in a few hours. Thank you for the lovely evening.” Zemo relinquished his guns to Chanel, and she placed them on the bar top. “Goodnight, my dear,” he nodded at Chanel.

She started to reach out for his hand, but Stephan’s hand closed tightly around her bicep, pulling her backward. Chanel glared at him and forcefully yanked her arm out of his grip. His behavior was starting to get under her skin. As if they had never been apart, they slipped right back into their usual patterns. She wanted to piss him off. With a defiant glance in Stephan’s direction, she told Zemo goodnight. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug that spoke to a level of intimacy that did not exist between them.

Zemo tried to search her face for a hint at what he was supposed to do. Did she want him to stay? But her angry gaze was glued to Stephan. “Are you okay?” He whispered to her.

Chanel looked at him like she didn’t understand the question; like she had forgotten, he wasn’t just a prop to be used at her whim. “I’m good. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Her stormy eyes returned to Stephan, and he gently pushed her away and excused himself from the room. They didn’t wait for him to disappear up the stairs before they started yelling at each other.

Zemo flinched when he heard Stephan call her a whore followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy whizzing through the air and smashing into the wall.

If I were to kill him now, it would undoubtedly bring me pleasure, but I need to find out if he has any of the serum left.

For a moment, he thought about waking up James to fill him in on what was going on but decided against it when the noises downstairs quickly turned from rage to lust.

Best to keep Chanel as an ally for now. I guess he can be allowed to breathe for a bit longer.

It will make for an entertaining morning, at least.

Stephan’s lips moved roughly against Chanel’s. When she kissed him back just as urgently, a low moan left his throat. He gripped her waist and lifted her up onto the bar counter. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as he pulled her jacket off and threw it on the floor. It landed on top of the scattered broken gems from the Faberge egg that Chanel had chucked at his head. His hands roamed over her body quickly, as if to claim every piece as his once more.

He broke the kiss, the sensations overwhelming him for a moment. “So, you still consider me yours?” He teased as he caught his breath.

“What?” Chanel tried to kiss him again, but he was persistent.

“Tonight, you told Nicolo that you shot him because he threatened what was yours. I thought you moved on.”

Chanel hesitated, “I have. But it still pissed me off when you and Manfred were under threat.”

Stephan was barely listening; he was planting demanding kisses on her neck. “Come stay with me in your proper room.” His lips reached her weak spot and gently sucked on the tender skin.

“Fuck,” she moaned quietly as she gripped his hair to hold him in place.

He chuckled against her skin. He had dreamt of this moment since the day she had left him. He needed her in more ways than one. Now that he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go.

Stephan scooped her up from the counter and planted his lips back on hers as he carried her to the master bedroom down the hall. Their bodies quickly synced together, completing the deranged ritual. Chanel’s head was clear; she felt weightless as she surrendered to Stephan’s pleasure.

Sam had slept restlessly. He was still mad at Chanel, but Bucky’s words had touched a nerve. He eventually decided that all things considered, she had done what she needed to do, and nobody got seriously hurt.

He had already been awake when his alarm went off at 5 am. After throwing his running clothes on, he left his room to talk to Chanel.

Wait a minute, I didn’t hear her scream at all last night...that’s odd.

When he stepped into the hall, he saw Bucky, also dressed in athletic clothes, already at Chanel’s door.

“I thought you didn’t run?” Sam asked as he approached Bucky.

Bucky ignored his question, “She’s not answering. I don’t know if she’s still asleep or—”

Sam opened the door with the confidence only an old friend would have. “Chanel? It’s me; we need to talk.”

Sam stepped into the empty room, “Chanel?”

She wasn’t there. He thought maybe she had already left on her run, but then he noticed her tennis shoes still on the floor.

Weird, what else would she be doing up this early?

Zemo...no, surely she’s not...she wouldn’t.

Sam shook the thought out of his head, feeling guilty for even thinking it. He turned to Bucky, who was still standing in the doorway. “I guess she’s already downstairs. I wouldn’t be surprised if Manfred made her a goodbye breakfast feast.”

Bucky laughed shortly, “That sounds about right.”

“Whoa, was that a laugh?”

“Barely. Don’t push it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Did Chanel wake you up at all last night? I didn’t hear her wake up from a nightmare.”

“No, I didn’t hear anything. So that’s good, right?”

“Maybe.” Sam gave one last wary look around the room; he was worried about what Chanel may have done to keep the nightmares at bay.

Upon approaching the kitchen, they could hear Zemo speaking in German. They shared a suspicious glance when the voice that replied was unrecognizable. On edge, they cautiously entered the kitchen, always expecting the worst. But, instead, they found an untroubled Zemo sipping coffee while he leaned against the counter talking to Stephan.

“Zemo, who the hell is this?” Sam’s eyes scanned the room, “and where is Chanel?”

“You must be Sam. I’m Stephan; this is my home.” Stephan did not extend his hand. He was frigidly leaning against the kitchen island, his face poorly masking his annoyance. He turned his gaze to Bucky, “And you must be James. Manfred has told me you have made yourself quite comfortable here with my things.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, a snarky reply ready on his tongue. Sam cut in before he could get a word out.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here soon. Speaking of, where is Chanel?”

Sam was almost afraid to ask. Stephan’s presence had him rethinking forgiving her for the previous night.

“She’s sleeping,” Stephan replied as he moved across the kitchen to the coffee machine, already bored with their conversation.

“Sleeping?” Sam anxiously checked his watch. “She knows we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Don’t wake her.” Stephan turned around quickly, “Let her sleep; she clearly hasn’t been resting well.”

Bucky felt a small wave of dread pass through him.

She’s just sleeping. It doesn’t mean anything. Calm down.

“She did have a rough night. A couple hours won’t mess up our travel plans.” Zemo offered.

Sam could feel that something wasn’t right. His attempt to stay level-headed was failing; he simply didn’t have the energy.

“You don’t get to have opinions, Zemo!” Sam yelled.

The yelling in the kitchen had woken Chanel, she would have been annoyed, but she was just happy it wasn’t her own screaming that had woken her up for once. She rolled over in Stephan’s bed. The silk sheets he had bought, just for the protection of her hair, caressed her skin, begging her to never get up. As she became more conscious, she felt the cold heavy diamonds on her chest, reminding her what Stephan really wanted. He had fastened the ostentatious string of white-gold and exquisite gems around her neck while she was still blissed out. She ran her fingers over the diamonds and decided it would be ridiculous to return the gift. Stephan had to know she wouldn’t stay; he wasn’t naive. She finally opened her eyes, looking for him, and realized he was already gone.

Did he sleep at all?

It clicked that if Stephan wasn’t in bed, he must be out in the house. And Sam was yelling.

Oh shit…

She jumped out of bed and looked for her clothes. Everything was strewn around the room and ripped into pieces.

What the fuck...did Steph do that last night?

She picked up a piece of what used to be her black bodysuit. In his impatience to have her, Stephan had ripped it in two.

Chanel dropped the tattered clothes on the floor and dug through Stephan’s drawers. She chose a plain t-shirt, which for Stephan was a crisp white linen Gucci V-neck, and pulled it over her head. Even though the shirt covered her enough, she grabbed a pair of boxers and pulled them on too. Her fingers snagged on the knots in her hair as she appraised her appearance in the full-length mirror.

God, why am I so sore?

She winced when she stretched to the side. Lifting her shirt, she saw the beginnings of a bruise on her left hip; a similar bruise was also on the right side. The dark spots reminded her how powerfully possessive Stephan’s hands had been on her body last night.

Damn.

She ran her fingers over the bruises, and her thoughts drifted.

I wonder what Bucky’s hands will feel like...

As if her thought had called to him, she heard his voice join the others in the kitchen.

Just the sound of his voice lifted her mood a notch, excitement to see him brewing. She then realized how she looked in Stephan’s clothes with his marks on her body and neck. How she ended her conversation with Bucky last night also came back to her, and her stomach sank.

Pull yourself together, Chanel. You can apologize for last night, but you don’t owe him anything other than that.

Why should I care if he sees me like this? It’s none of his business.

As she walked down the hall towards the kitchen, she started to lose her nerve.

Okay, maybe I don’t need to rub his nose in it, though.

She tried sneaking past the kitchen to get to the stairs, but Manfred caught sight of her and called her name.

Shit!

She paused and turned her head to see all 5 men staring at her from the kitchen door—Zemo furthest in the back smiling to himself.

“Good morning Schätzchen, did we wake you?” Stephan ran his hands over her hair as he spoke to her.

Chanel froze, her eyes watching the displeasure and disbelief on Sam’s and Bucky’s faces. Manfred looked quite pleased with himself as he watched them and threw smug looks in Bucky’s direction.

“Um, no, I just want to go get dressed.” Chanel tried to leave, but Stephan grabbed her hand.

“Come, eat something first. Manfred worked all morning preparing a goodbye breakfast for you. Though you know, you could just stay and make this breakfast unnecessary.”

Stephan wrapped his arm around Chanel’s shoulders and led her into the kitchen.

The wave of dread fully crashed over Bucky, nearly drowning him, as he took in what was happening, or rather what had already happened. His increased perception was a curse at that moment. He easily noted the bruises that peppered her neck, the way her hair was mussed from the lack of a brush, the slight puffiness of her lips, the obvious menswear she adorned, and that fucking necklace.

How did this happen?

He watched dejectedly as they chatted while Stephan made her a cup of coffee. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes never left Stephan’s face.

She said it had all been fake, a lie.

Bucky wondered if maybe she really did love Stephan.

Was I just a distraction until she got what she really wanted?

He lost his resolve to stay in the kitchen when he watched Stephan rub the small of her back as she sipped her coffee. He quickly left the room as his dread turned into rage.

Sam watched him stalk off.

I knew he wasn’t ready to handle her shit.

He turned to glare at Chanel. She was watching Bucky leave with a look of guilt on her face, but she remained where she was, leaning against the tall German man who had randomly shown up.

“Chanel. A word?” He said through gritted teeth.

“She needs to eat,” Stephan said dismissively as he wrapped his arm around Chanel’s waist, pulling her closer to his side.

“I wasn’t talking to you, man,” Sam spat.

Stephan whipped his head up, “Excuse me?”

Chanel knew Stephan was about to get angry; she put her hand on his chest before he could say anything else. “It’s fine, Steph. I need to talk to Sam, and I need to get dressed. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t let go of her, so she added, “I promise,” and tilted her head up slightly, signaling for him to kiss her.

He let her go after the kiss, and she chased after Sam, who was already speed walking away in anger. He led her through the sitting room and out the patio doors before he spun around and began yelling.

“Are you fucking kidding me with this?!”

“I know. I know. I wanted to apologize last night. Can you just let me explain what happened?”

“Last night? This isn’t about last night!”

Chanel shook her head in confusion. “What? So you’re saying you’re not mad that two drug dealers showed up last night, and I almost killed one of them?”

“No. I was mad about that, but Bucky, whose heart you just stomped all over, convinced me to forgive you. But, this? This is not okay.” Sam paced around in circles with his hands on his hips. “How did this even happen?! Why is he here?!”

“Oh fuck, I forgot he said he was going to talk to you.” Chanel’s guilt was increasing, threatening to pull her back down from the high she had finally found. “Okay, I fucked that up, I admit. But ‘stomped all over his heart’? That’s a bit dramatic. Stephan just showed up last night; he was worried and flew straight home. Things happened; it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Sam laughed mockingly. “So you prancing around in another man’s clothes with hickies all over your neck...acting all domestic picture of happiness , isn’t a big deal? Did you not see him leave?!”

“Jesus, will you calm down! He kissed me a couple times, and now what? We’re in a committed relationship?! I don’t owe him anything!” Chanel’s guilt was making her more defensive than she typically would have been. She could feel the dam starting to break, the shame from the previous night’s activities threatening to burst through.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you messing with him.”

They glared at each other silently for a moment, neither willing to say what was really going through their heads for fear of truly hurting each other.

Chanel broke first, “I’m sorry, okay? For everything, last night, and Steph showing up out of the blue. I know it stresses you out. I really want to help, and I keep fucking things up. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Sam nodded his appreciation; she sounded sincere, but he wasn’t satisfied yet. “And Bucky?”

Chanel sighed and crossed her arms protectively, “you know I’m right. I didn’t do anything wrong. I think it’s nice that you’re looking out for him, but we’re all adults here. I think he can handle himself. I’ll be sure and thank him for talking to you.”

Knowing that was the best he would get out of her, his anger subsided, replaced by anxiousness to leave the villa as soon as possible.

“I guess you have a point, but just be more mindful; he clearly has feelings for you.”

Chanel made a face of disbelief.

“Don’t be naive. Not everyone is as cold-hearted as you are. Now, please go get ready so we can get the hell out of here.”

Chanel nodded in agreement, and they walked back into the sitting room.

“That necklace is ridiculous by the way,” Sam said muttered so only she could hear him.

Chanel jabbed him with her elbow. “You’re just jealous.”

Zemo and Stephan had moved from the kitchen to the couch and were watching the news. Stephan pulled Chanel onto the sofa next to him before she could make it to the stairs.

“Look.” He pointed to the screen, where the news showed footage of the warehouse they had attacked, burning to the ground.

Sam planted himself behind the couch and watched the broadcast, his eyes flicking between the screen and Stephan and Chanel on the sofa.

“Chanel? Isn’t it an odd coincidence that this warehouse, that belonged to the Agostinelli, just happened to burn down the same night they came here and tried to extort you?” Sam had no hint of playfulness in his tone.

Bucky came back downstairs, having changed into his usual t-shirt and jeans, and stood next to Sam behind the couch. Chanel flinched at the loud thud of duffel bags hitting the floor; he had brought Sam’s down too, clearly ready to leave.

Before Chanel could answer Sam, Stephan replied, “It’s no coincidence. I made a quick stop before I came home.”

“You did this?” Bucky challenged.

Stephan turned around to look Bucky in the eyes, “Well, what would you have done if someone had threatened your family?”

Bucky glowered at him, barely restraining his urge to knock the smirk off of his prim face.

Sam wasn’t buying it, but he had no reason not to, so he and Stephan just shared a challenging stare.

Chanel caught Bucky’s eye, and he quickly looked away from her, making her heart sink.

“Steph? Why don’t you go prepare my things while I go upstairs and get ready?”

Stephan finally looked away from Sam and smiled at her, “Certainly. Meet me in the study when you’re done.”

She returned his smile and quickly moved off the couch before he could kiss her. She tried to make eye contact with Bucky again, to signal that she wanted him to follow her, but he wouldn’t look in her direction.

Dammit. I’ve got to fix this. He’ll come around; he has to talk to me at some point. Maybe when we’re out of this stupid house.

The villa was no longer a retreat; it was starting to feel like it was suffocating her. Like it was trying to lock her in as its prisoner.

She quickly showered, the warm water washing away the sins of the previous night. The hurt look she had seen in Bucky’s eyes kept her stomach twisted in knots. Sam’s voice calling her cold-hearted replayed in her head, so even though she didn’t have the time, she sat at the vanity and applied foundation over the marks on her neck and chest.

One last-minute thought had her running back to her closet. She searched through it until she found a box of wigs. She now knew she was a wanted woman, and Madripoor was already unsafe enough as it was. The honey blonde one she had worn last time she was in Madripoor was still on top. She gently placed it into a silk pouch and put it in her bag before going downstairs.

When she hit the bottom step, Sam turned around, “Ready?”

“In a second, Steph has my gear.”

Bucky snatched her luggage from her and went outside to Zemo’s car.

“Can you blame him?” Zemo said in response to the annoyed look on her face.

Chanel chewed on her cheek as she pushed past him to get to the study.

Great, even Zemo thinks I’m a cold-hearted bitch.

Sam and Zemo followed her curiously.

“Damn. What is all of this stuff?” Sam reached out to touch a curious-looking bracelet in the large weapons case on the table.

Chanel swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch. It’s not a toy.”

Sam eyed the lethal-looking weapons in the case with a frown. “Are you sure you need all of this? We’re not assassins, you know.”

Chanel looked between Sam and Stephan, both staring at her expectantly as if asking her to choose right there who she was loyal to. As if they were asking her to decide what kind of person she was.

“I’m not going to kill anyone,” Chanel snapped, avoiding Stephan’s disappointed glare.

“So, you’re the reason she’s gone soft,” Stephan addressed Sam with malice in his voice. “If anything happens to her because of your childish moral code—”

“Nothing is going to happen to her,'' Sam fired back. “Not while she’s with us.”

“Are you sure about that? The other one—” Stephan referred to Bucky as if he didn’t remember his name, “is he even safe to have around her? Shouldn’t he be in an insane asylum or something?”

Sam looked like he was ready to knock Stephan’s head off his shoulders. Even Zemo looked annoyed.

Chanel’s eyes widened a fraction before narrowing. “Steph don’t be a dick! These are my friends.”

Stephan rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively as if that excused his comments.

Chanel snapped the weapons case closed. “Sam, can you and Zemo take this to the car for me? I’ll be right out.”

Sam took the case from her, “Don’t make me have to come back in here and find you.”

Zemo shut the glass door behind them, “I forgot something upstairs. I’ll be out shortly.”

Sam nodded, and Zemo headed to the stairs. When Sam was out of sight, he quietly moved back to the study and strained to hear the conversation.

“So that’s it then? You think you’re going to leave me to go be what—?” An Avenger?” Stephan laughed at her mockingly.

“I’m not trying to be an Avenger. I’m just helping a friend. And I left you a long time ago.” Chanel returned the same level of venom that he had sent her way.

Stephan’s eyes flickered with anger. “You think you can just change who you are?” He hissed.

Chanel wavered, frozen in place as she stared into his deadly eyes. He wasn’t yelling; his voice was cold, calculated like he knew exactly what damage he was about to do and wanted to enjoy every second of it.

“You know who you are. You showed me last night. You’re a cruel, violent, wicked woman. You’re not a hero.” Stephan circled around her like a shark, “What do you think is going to happen when your friends see the real you? They’re going to leave you, just like everyone else.”

Chanel didn’t know why she was crying; he wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know. Of course, he was right. But hearing it out loud made her feel stupid for even thinking she belonged anywhere but here.

Stephan wiped a tear off of her cheek, “Don’t cry, mein Schatz. You’re perfect. I’m the only one that will truly accept you for who you really are.”

Chanel wiped the tears from her face, willing herself to snap out of his trance.

“I’m going, Steph, you’re not going to talk me out of it. I don’t want to end things like this.”

“Then don’t end it,” he replied with a hint of desperation in his voice. “At least promise me you’ll—" he started to say, ‘be safe’ but knew that was a ridiculous ask, “—come out of this alive.” His fingers trailed over the diamonds on her neck.

Chanel looked down at her feet, “Steph—"

“Don’t. Just listen.” He gently lifted her chin, staring into her wet eyes. “I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t care. I love you, I’ve always loved you, and I know you feel the same way. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

Chanel closed her eyes as if the darkness would swallow his words. “Steph, you know how I feel. I’m not capable of loving you, of loving anyone.”

“Like I said, stubborn.” He held his finger to her lips to stop her retort. “My point is, I won’t have you running around out there risking your life because when you do finally come to your senses, I want you alive and well and able to come home.”

He grabbed her hand and led her over to the safe. Zemo watched through the door as he revealed another safe within the walls of the first. From it, Stephan withdrew a small box. He opened it, took something out, and put the box back into the safe.

He turned back to Chanel, “I should have told you this a long time ago, but I didn’t want to get you involved. However, now that we know the Power Broker is after us, and you insist on leaving, you should know.” He opened his hand, and Zemo’s heartbeat increased.

“Steph! How do you have this?” Chanel stared at the vial of super-soldier serum in his hand in disbelief.

“I took it. From Dante. This is what Klaus was trying to buy from the Power Broker.”

“So you didn’t destroy it? How much of it do you have?”

“Of course not. I sold most of it.”

“To who?”

“Your government. The CIA was very interested.”

“And the rest?”

“Well, I took one for myself, and I have 4 more vials here, including this one that I want you to take.”

Chanel stumbled backward in shock. “Wait a second. You’re telling me that you took the serum? As in, currently, right now, you are a super-soldier?!”

“Did I not make that obvious last night? You wound me.” Stephan brought his hand to his chest playfully.

“Steph, this isn’t funny. How could you? And how could you think that I would want to take it?!”

“Why not? It will keep you safe. And when you come back home, we can be as we were. No one will be able to stop us.”

Chanel stared at him in disbelief, a million things rushing through her mind. Number one being Zemo. He couldn’t find out about this.

“Just take it, and at least consider it. For me, okay?”

Chanel took the vial and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. The urge to leave was suddenly overwhelming.

“I’ve got to go.”

“I know.” He grabbed her for one last kiss and rested his forehead on hers, “I have some people looking for information on the Power Broker. We’re going to find out who this bastard is. I’ll keep you updated.”

“I would appreciate that. Goodbye, Stephan.”

Zemo hurried out of the house and climbed into his car, impatiently tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Took you long enough. What did you forget?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Zemo answered, distractedly. His jaw was tight with anger; all the different ways he could kill Stephan flicking through his mind like a horrifying picture book.

Chanel practically ran out of the house and threw herself into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”

Zemo stomped his foot on the gas, and they sped off.

“Damn, what’s got you two so on edge?” Sam turned around to look out the back window, half expecting the house to be in flames.

“Nothing.” Chanel and Zemo snapped at the same time.

Chanel eyed Zemo suspiciously; he looked ready to murder someone.

He tried to pull himself together and offered her a tight smile, “I don’t think any of us are sad to say goodbye to your possessive ex-boyfriend. Or is he no longer an ex?”

Bucky turned his head toward the conversation, interested to hear her response.

“He’s very much an ex.”

“Splendid. You deserve so much better. We can all breathe a sigh of relief. Right, Sam?”

Sam grunted his approval. “Yeah, he’s a peach. I can really see the appeal,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry about him; I don’t know what got into him today. I swear he’s not usually like that.”

Sam just gave her a concerned look.

This is definitely a conversation we are having later.

“James?” Zemo prompted.

“Not my business,” Bucky replied shortly. “Can you just drive? We don’t need conversation.”

“Apologies.” Zemo turned on the radio, and they all sat in silence.

Chanel sank a little in her seat as she chewed on her cheek. Bucky sounded particularly broody.

How am I going to make this right?

She felt exhausted from being pulled in so many directions. She knew she couldn’t stay there with Stephan, but part of her wondered if that was her best chance at happiness. She shook the thought out of her head, Sam was her priority, and she couldn’t make both of them happy.

As they passed through the gate, leaving the villa in the rearview mirror, a fleet of unmarked black sedans sped past them. Chanel turned in her seat and watched as they entered the gate. She knew those cars well. They belonged to Stephan’s number one henchman.

Probably helping him with the Power Broker stuff, but why so many of them?

Stephan stepped out onto the front steps as the cars pulled into the driveway. His duffle bag was slung over his shoulder, his phone in his hand as he watched a blinking dot on a map move farther away from his home.

“How long until the plane is ready?” He asked of the large man that met him on the steps.

“It will be ready for take-off as soon as you arrive.”

Stephan nodded. “And you have prepared the others?” His gaze was focused on the three tough-looking men that were approaching.

“They know it won’t tickle if that’s what you mean.”

“Good, it doesn’t take long. Manfred will administer the serum. When they’re done, send them straight to the airstrip to meet the rest of us. We don’t have much time.”

“Understood,” the large man motioned for the others to go inside.

The three men nodded to Stephan respectfully as they passed.

Stephan ran his hand through his hair, the team he was assembling calmed him a little, but it wasn’t enough. He had a small army but a limited supply of serum. “Did you get in touch with—what was her name? The Flag-Smasher girl.”

The large man frowned; he didn’t like disappointing his boss. “I did, but she’s not selling.”

Stephan scoffed, “Not selling? Did you tell her how much we were offering her?”

“She said her movement was more important than money. I can keep trying; everyone has a price.”

Stephan’s jaw was locked as he glanced back down at the moving dot on his phone. “No. If she doesn’t want to do it the easy way, well—" Stephan left his sentence unfinished as he began walking to the SUV, his eyes glued to his phone.

“I’ll let you know their whereabouts as soon as I get a solid lead,” the man called after him.

Stephan waved his hand in acknowledgment as he climbed into the back of the SUV. Each one that followed carried more men dressed in tactical gear, ready to follow Stephan into war.

As they pulled away from the villa, he wondered if it might be overkill. His eyes drifted back to the blinking dot on his phone, and he made a mental list of all the people he would have to go through to get what he wanted.

Not overkill. I will get her back, no matter what.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky x poc!reader #bucky x black!reader #original characters #helmut zemo #sam wilson #tfatws #MCU fanfiction

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