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waywardxrhea · 2 months

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Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

You are working with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo to get intel on the Power Broker when the night takes an unexpected turn...

content warnings: minors DNI (18+) - smut (semi-public, oral - male receiving, fingering), PWP, jealousy, groping, drinking, language, name calling (slut - not by Bucky), some violence.

“You can come out now,” Helmut Zemo called to you through the bathroom door of his private jet you were currently holed up in after getting ready for an evening of espionage.

“I feel weird…” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and you were getting ready for an intel gathering mission and this time it was your turn to gather intel. Why that meant you had to have your tits nearly falling out of the dress Zemo picked out, you didn’t know, but you were so close to getting the break you needed you would do nearly anything to get answers.

“Everyone feels weird at these things. The dresses are uncomfortable but when you’re somewhere looking at art you need to look like art yourself,” he told you.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving yourself one more once over as the plane started to descend.

On anyone else you would have said the dress was gorgeous. It flowed like a river when you walked, it was sparkly enough to be seen from space, and the combination of the low cut neckline and the slit in the leg was enough to make the devil himself blush. It just wasn’t you. Ever since you became an agent for SHIELD, the CIA, and now freelancing with this band of misfits, you’d grown accustomed to wearing pants and tactical gear and in your downtime it was leggings and chunky sweaters. Nothing even the slightest bit revealing.

So when you exited the bathroom you couldn’t help the blush that creeped up your neck as Sam gave a low whistle from where he stood in his steel blue pressed tux, saying, “Man you’re looking good!”

“Can it,” you told him, rolling your eyes and shoving your hands into the pockets of the dress. That part at least Zemo took your advice on when designing the dress which you guessed you were grateful for…

“I told you you’d look beautiful,” Zemo said. “A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a sarcastic smile, turning away and rolling your eyes.

As you turned away, Bucky emerged into the main area of the plane, adjusting his tie and giving you a once over. “I think you’ve made him speechless,” Sam said teasingly, nudging Bucky in the ribs after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Sam had always teased the two of you because he knew you liked Bucky but you’d just never made a move. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me, you’d always told yourself. Besides, he’s on those dating apps and all, so that’s proof he isn’t interested, not in you...

“No time for puppy eyes, we’re here,” Zemo said as the plane touched down. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I go in first and blend in for a while. Admire the art, catch the attention of the target, chat him up for a bit. Once I get what we need on the Power Broker I’ll excuse myself to the restroom and we make a break for it.”

“Correct,” he told you with a nod.

“The three of us will go in separately and pretend to look at the art while making sure things don’t go sideways,” Sam added.

“Right again. What is the code word for if you become compromised?”

“Champagne,” you told him instantly. Now this was the stuff you were built for.

“Are we ready?” Zemo asked as the group approached the door to the jet.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, making your way to the door and carefully picking your way down the steps to head into the party.

“Don’t strut or anything,” Sam told you teasingly as he watched you feign confidence on your way in.

“Shut up, I don’t strut,” you snapped.

“You do tend to strut when you’re in heels,” Zemo said.

“Okay let’s not focus on my walk you guys!” you said before approaching the door to the art show.

“Here, let me get that for you ma’am,” a suited man said, opening the door for you with a smile and a wink.

You gave him a smug raise of your eyebrows in return as you walked through the door, narrowly missing the hand that was outstretched, no doubt trying to cop a feel. “I feel gross…” you mumbled as you walked further in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray nearby.

While looking around, something caught your eye so you made my way to an art piece that you had only ever seen in textbooks. It was beautiful… A man slid up next to you to admire the piece as well, and casually asked, “You like it? It’s one of a kind.”

“It’s wonderful, I didn’t know this piece was even on the market!” you said, wonder in your eyes over the art in front of you.

“Maybe it could be yours if you give me something in exchange,” the man said suggestively, making you throw up a little in your mouth.

You turned to see who the man was and saw that it was the target. Like some miracle he had walked up to you, but you weren’t about to take it for granted. So as much as it pained you to do it, you reached over to his arm and brushed your fingers over it and asked in your most innocently seductive voice, “And what may that be?”

“All right we’re all in, if this guy goes too far, say something and we’ll come get you,” Sam told you through the earpiece as he casually made his way over to the nearby bar.

While he said this, you and the man made your way over to the VIP area where you two sat down on a couch and were served drinks of your choice. He glanced down at your breasts quickly before asking, “So what’s your name darlin? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You giggled and put on the charm as you walked two fingers up his chest, telling him, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would,” he replied, placing a hand on the bare portion of your thigh. He snaked his other arm around your back and rested his hand on your ass, pulling you close. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to attend these events alone.”

“Play your cards right and I could be your plus one from now on…” you told him, the corners of your lips turning up in a small smile.

The next half hour felt like forever as you pushed for more drinks for your pleasant company and innocently sweet talked your way into the answers you needed. When you felt like you had enough intel to make our next move, you sweetly told him, “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the girls’ room. These drinks went right through me!”

“I’ll be here when you get back sweetheart,” he told you with a smile as you got up, grabbing your ass once more when you stood.

As you turned the corner to make it seem convincing that you were actually looking for the restroom, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you toward them. You just about took them out before realizing that it was just Bucky. “What the hell, Buck?” you asked, taken aback.

He put his finger to his ear, turning off his coms before whispering sharply, “Why’d you let him touch you like that?”

“W-what?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

“We’re getting out of here, you two need to get out before we’re compromised,” Zemo told you over the coms.

“Be there in a minute,” you told him before turning your own off, following Bucky’s actions. Getting back to his question, you said, “I did what I had to do to get answers. Why do you care?”

“Because no one should be touching you like that,” he replied, looking deep into your eyes.

You laughed a bit before asking sarcastically, “Oh yeah because it should be you right?”

What happened next shocked you to the core. Because Bucky, the man who had stolen your heart, said, “Yes,” before crashing his lips down onto yours, pinning you against the wall hard. A million thoughts ran through your mind and your head spun as you tried to process what was happening all while sinking into his soft lips.

“Bucky…” you whispered between kisses as he held you close. Never breaking the makeout session, he felt around for any door handle he could find before pulling you into whatever room it revealed.

Once the pair of you were in the room, he hiked you up onto the counter before resting his forehead on yours, saying, “It killed me seeing that bastard touching you like that. I wanted it to be me.”

With your senses finally kicked in after the shock of the kiss, you shook your head and whispered, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because of how I look right now. If we were back at the hotel and I was in my leggings and sweater you’d just look the other way…”

“No,” he said as he looked deep into your eyes, pulling away and taking your hand in his. “This is something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I never had the courage to say it until now. I thought I could push away my feelings in order to not compromise our friendship and partnership but… I wanted to kill that guy for touching you like that.”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but nothing came out. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. When you got back to it, your hands wandered each other's bodies desperately, Bucky’s metal hand slipping under your dress to cup your breast and mess with your sensitive nipple. You gasped at the cool touch and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

As you ran one hand through his hair, he slowly slid his right hand down to your thighs, not moving any further than there without permission. Not even caring how dirty it made you feel to do so, at the touch you spread your legs for him and pulled away for a moment to whisper, “Please touch me…”

“As you wish,” he whispered, taking no time at all to begin toying with your swollen clit. He nipped at your earlobe before mumbling, “God you’re so wet.”

“That’s because you drive me crazy,” you admitted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while gently pushing two fingers in and feeling around for that special spot inside.

“Oh God yes,” you whimpered, your head rolling back as he found what he was looking for. No one had touched you like this in so long and it just felt so good and so…right with it being him.

He added his thumb to the mix, rubbing your clit while his fingers worked their magic and you had to bite your knuckle to keep from screaming, it felt so good. Seeing your reaction, Bucky smirked and started kissing your neck, telling you between kisses, “I guess we shoulda talked about it because I’ve been dreaming of this for a while. First chance I get after tonight, I’m fuckin’ you into oblivion, doll.”

Those words were all it took to bring you impossibly closer to the edge. The idea of Bucky doing unspeakable things to you made everything that much better and you could feel yourself shaking as you approached your high. “Bucky…” you whispered shakily.

Bucky stood there just admiring you as he picked up the pace of his fingers inside your sensitive cunt. He gave you a sideways smile before whispering, “God, just look at you. You’re so beautiful. Those little gasps and whimpers all for me? That’s enough to make me wanna go all night,” he said, making you even weaker in the knees. Your head rolled back and your breathing started to become uneven as he worked his magic inside, the pace somehow getting more vigorous the closer he brought you to release. The smirk was audible in his voice as he added, “Come on doll, I can tell you’re close, just cum for me.”

And just like that with a few more strokes of his fingers you were experiencing the most intense orgasm you had in years. “Oh my God, fuck…” you moaned before he captured your lips on his own once more while you rode it out on his fingers which continued to pump in and out lazily as you clenched around them.

“I think I can get used to that sound,” he told you with a smile once he pulled back from your kiss.

You couldn’t help the school-girl-like giggle that escaped your lips before you got serious again, kissing him after jumping off the countertop. You spun the two of you around and pinned him to the counter this time, your fingers trailing their way down to his belt and messing with the buckle waiting for permission. “You don’t gotta do anything for me right now, the others are waiting. I’m sure they’re getting worried,” he told you.

“I think for once you need to put yourself before others,” you whispered, ghosting your fingers over the prominent tent in his slacks.

He chuckled before giving in, saying, “Make it quick.”

“Oh trust me I can do that,” you told him with a wink before undoing his belt buckle and letting his slacks fall to his ankles. You toyed with the waistband of his underwear for a moment before pulling them down as you sank onto your knees in front of him.

As you kissed the swollen tip of his penis he sucked in air through his teeth, telling you, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled and ran one finger on the underside of his cock, the vein pulsing beneath your touch, and that had him like putty in your hands and asking, “Please?”

With that final almost whimper of a please from the man standing above you, you took his impressive length in your mouth. You got as far back as you could before beginning to bob your head, his right hand gently resting in your hair to guide you while his left had a death grip on the counter behind him.

When you hollowed out your cheeks, Bucky’s knees almost buckled and he tightened his grip on your hair. At this you pulled back and teased his head with your tongue before going back in. The way his breath hitched in his throat and the way he started moving his hips showed he was losing the restraint he had on himself meaning that he was close, so you used your hand to work what you couldn’t with your mouth and that’s exactly when he lost it.

He had never felt anything like the feeling he was experiencing right now as he gently thrust his hips forward, relishing in the feeling of pure pleasure he was getting from your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell!” he groaned as he came to his high, his warm release filling your mouth while his grip on the counter tightened, his metal hand breaking the marble in the process.

Coming back up to eye level with him after he finished, you smirked before telling him, “Quiet down Sergeant, you don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

“Oh next time you’ll be regretting that, doll,” he growled playfully before pulling his clothes back up while you fixed your makeup with what you brought in your pockets. As you fixed your hair too, he looked at you in the mirror and said, “Really though, that was nice. Something I’ve been wanting for a while.”

“Me too,” you replied, kissing him tenderly once you looked presentable again.

After you and Bucky got yourselves calmed down from all the excitement you headed back out to the party so you could go back to the jet. As Bucky adjusted his belt while the pair of you exited the room, you noticed the man from earlier was standing down the hall talking with someone. He seemed to notice Bucky adjusting his belt and that goofy smile on his face so he rolled his eyes and shoved past you, muttering, “Slut.”

“What did you just call her?” Bucky asked, sudden white hot rage filling his whole body.

“I called her what she is, a slut!” the man spat loudly.

And that was all it took for Bucky to wind back and punch the man in the face, taking care to use his metal arm to do so. Once the man was on the ground, Bucky took the man’s collar in his hand, yanking him up and growling, “Don’t you ever talk about a woman like that again. Got it?”

“Got it!” the man whimpered as Bucky threw him back down on the ground.

With that settled, you two left the party and got back to the jet, walking hand in hand. Sam took one look at you and told Zemo, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“We don’t know that!” Zemo retorted defensively.

“Oh don’t we now?” Sam asked with a laugh. He turned his attention to the pair of you and asked, “Did you or did you not go MIA so you could have sex?”

“I- What- We-” you tried to say, stumbling over your words as your face heated up.

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled before saying, “Whichever one bet that we had sex lost.”

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously.

“But did you at least do something?” Sam asked, fishing in his wallet for a twenty.

“That’s for us to know and you to not find out,” Bucky replied, kissing your knuckles before leading you to a seat on the plane where you could rest your feet for the flight. As you sat down and relaxed into Bucky’s strong embrace, you had a feeling that tonight was the first of many pleasurable nights to come.

a/n: so this is my first one shot on tumblr! I wrote this one night when I just couldn't get Bucky out of my head, I hope y'all enjoy!

and if you don't follow me or know my account, feel free to check out my Steve Rogers long fic here!

#bucky barnes x reader #smut #marvel #bucky barnes #oneshot

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

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Protect me

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: With Zemo hanging around, you begin to feel very protective over Bucky.

♡ Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of buckys trauma, anxiety attack

You were on edge ever since Zemo showed up, knowing what he put Bucky through made you feel extremely protective over him.

Your cheeks were flushed with rage, your nostrils flaring in attempt to hold yourself back from killing Zemo yourself. Zemo would try and be civil, starting small talk, being extra nice. You weren’t having any of it, you were snappy and short with him. Trying to keep conversation to a minimum, knowing that the second you opened your mouth, shit would go down.

Zemo found it hilarious and found the whole act to be entertaining. Now he was pestering you with dumb questions, making it his goal to get you to break. He found it pathetic that someone like you, was trying to protect someone like The Winter Soldier.

Bucky on the other hand found it adorable, and felt incredibly special with your protectiveness. His heart attempted to explode at every tiny gesture you’d make.

Always putting yourself in between him and Zemo. You changing the subject if Zemo tried to poke at Bucky’s trauma. Making sure you kept him reassured that he was okay. That the words don’t work on him anymore when he started to overthink.

All these things adding to the list of why he loves you.

Although Bucky loved seeing your protective side, he knew you were holding back much more than you were letting off. He could tell you were incredibly anxious, from the second Zemo joined their group.

He had made it clear that you didn’t have to be so strong for him, but you refused and kept up your guard. He knew that eventually things would get better, but for now he felt useless.

The air was thick with tension as Zemo did all the talking with Selby.

You were having a hard time holding yourself together, upset that Bucky had to portray The Winter Soldier again.

Selby kept giving you a judgmental side eye, making you nervous that she was growing suspicious. But otherwise didn’t push too much, and instead focused her attention on Bucky and Sam.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked Zemo, smirking evilly.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo starts, standing up to circle Bucky, “And I give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

Bucky doesn’t budge, standing still with an empty look on his face, staying in character. You clench your hands into fists at Zemo’s words, sneaking a look at Bucky and you swear you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

Zemo continues to circle him, touching him as he makes rounds. Selby grins at his offer, making you sick to your stomach.

“He will do anything you want.” Zemo adds, caressing Bucky’s face. The words and actions had you seeing red, your chest tightening up.

Your nails dug into your palms, drawing crescent shaped cuts, blood starting to pool in your fist.

There was obviously a line that no one wanted to cross, and considering that this plan started over the line… It was too much for you. You couldn’t listen to Zemo talk about Bucky like he wasn’t even there, like he was an object.

Your nose tingled, the familiar warning that you were about to cry, and your fists shook slightly. Zemo and Selby kept talking, but to you it was all muffled.

This wasn’t the place or time to break down, and despite not being able to breathe well, you locked it away, not allowing any tears to fall.

—————————❂—————————

Someone had eventually shot Selby, and that someone ended up revealing themselves as Sharon Carter. One thing led to another, and now everyone was gathered at Sharon’s place.

Bucky had noticed quickly that you hadn’t spoken too much since before the interaction with Selby, and he had grown worried.

You looked paler to him, the gorgeous color in your cheeks gone. You were staring off into space if not listening in the conversation.

He figured it was going to be hard for you to see him back as The Winter Soldier, considering how protective you’ve been. But he was only acting, and he knew you knew that.

Bucky walked over to your staring form near the window, which had an incredible view but he doubted you were actually looking at it.

“Hey doll, you doing okay? You’ve been awfully quiet, which is not like you at all.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but barely saw you flinch from his attempt.

“Baby? Please talk to me.” He pleaded, growing more worried every second you stayed silent.

He wrapped his arms around your frame and it was then he felt you shaking. Pulling away he immediately scanned you over, taking in your balled up hands, noticing streaks of red leaking through the cracks of your fingers. Lastly, he could hear your pained wheezes, like you couldn’t breathe.

“Babydoll, I need you to look at me.” He told you softly, keeping his tone gentle.

Reaching out, he collected your fists into his palms, internally cheering when you moved your head to finally meet his eyes.

“There you are, now I need you to take a deep breath with me okay? C’mon baby, do it with me.” He told you slowly, and watched you take a tiny breath in, wincing when you strained your lungs to expand.

He coached you through a couple more breaths until you were taking in large gulps of air. It was like your brain finally allowed you to process everything as soon as you had enough oxygen.

“There we go, you did so well doll,” Bucky noticed your lip quivering, and watched tears gather in your eyes. “Oh baby, c’mere.”

He scooped you up into his arms, caging you with his embrace. Letting yourself feel the warmth of Bucky’s arms, you let out pained sobs, holding onto him like he was going to disappear.

“I was s-so scared.” She whimpered, causing Bucky to hold you tighter. His heart hurting from how broken you sounded.

“It’s over now baby, you don’t have to be scared.” He cooed, sneaking his metal hand under your shirt to stroke your back, knowing that the coolness brought you comfort in situations like this.

“I hate it when they talk about you like that,” You cried out, “Like you’re— like—“

“It’s okay baby, you don’t have to finish, I know.” He stopped you, knowing your words would’ve brought on a new wave of tears.

“I hated that I couldn’t do anything, I fucking hated it.” You cried.

He frowned, hugging your sobbing form, his heart breaking at the fact that you were upset because he had to portray The Winter Soldier. You were more upset for him, than he was for himself. You were too caring for his heart to handle.

You lifted your face from his chest, leaning up to meet his eyes. You held his face in your hands, looking into his eyes with panic.

“You okay?” You asked him softly, and he melted at your touch, pushing his face further into your hands. Even in this state, you were still worried about him.

“I’m okay babydoll. As long as I’ve got you with me, I’m gonna be okay.” He told you, lifting his flesh hand to gently grab your chin, letting his thumb caress your bottom lip. “Are you okay?”

“Now I am,” You nodded to him, “I just— You’ve already been through so much, and I hate seeing you have to do something so traumatic. I just wanna protect you from everything… I can’t and won’t see you hurt again.”

Bucky’s heart swelled at your words, there wasn’t anyone else that could make him feel as special as you do. You made him feel so important.

He pulled you in, giving your lips a quick but passionate kiss. His flesh hand cradling the back of your head, his metal hand pushing on your lower back, your front meeting his.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I love you too Buck.” You murmured, nuzzling your nose into his.

There was nothing else in the world you’d ever want, all you wanted was right here in his arms.

#reader insert #light angst #fluff #oneshot #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagines #marvel cinematic universe #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #imagine #protective bucky barnes

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hereticpriest · 28 days

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Pyrrhic

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Baron Helmut Zemo x Female Reader

Length: 14k+

Summary: Once, HYDRA sought to create an improved version of the super soldier through breeding the Winter Soldier with another super soldier they made for that express purpose.

Now, fourteen years after escaping HYDRA's clutches, Bucky Barnes comes to you for help with the rise of super soldiers under the title Flagsmashers. Unfortunately, Barnes' feelings drive you closer to Baron Helmut Zemo, and you find yourself hoping for a future for the first time in your life.

Warnings: Unrequited Bucky Barnes/Reader, Bucky Barnes is a bit controlling, Manipulative Helmut Zemo, HYDRA comes with it's own whole bucket of warnings, HYDRA had a secret super soldier breeding program, Reader is a kidnapping victim, Reader is 3/4 Sokovian, P in V sex, oral sex (f receiving), reference to potential purity kink, loss of virginity, reader is touch-adverse, reader is also touch-starved, shower sex, ambiguous ending, consent is discussed multiple times, enthusiastic consent, Helmut Zemo is a consent king. Let me know if I missed something!

“Are you ever going to tell us about this person you’re insisting we need for this mission?” Sam asked as he stepped carefully through the thick brush of the forest around them. Bucky ducked under a large branch, shoulders tense as he practically stalked through the woods. His companions, reluctant as they may be, could tell that he didn’t want to answer the question - he was always evasive, but something about this person was making him especially tense. Sam was just happy that the Baron had kept his mouth shut so far. Considering his royal upbringing, one might think he would struggle on this mostly uphill hike through thick forest and untamed land, however Sam knew he’d been part of an elite Sokovian task force and that he had the strength and stamina to prove it.

“She was called Mat when I knew her, though she hated the title, so I wouldn’t recommend using it. Too fucking young for it anyways.” Bucky spat that last sentence, and Sam raised an eyebrow sceptically, not having the linguistic context to put two and two together. Zemo, however, huffed a breath laced with disdain and curiosity. Bucky shot him a dangerous look over his shoulder, and the Baron raised his hands placatingly, though Sam noticed him roll his eyes the moment Barnes looked away. The tension had been at a record high since Zemo was broken out of the German prison he’d been interred in, and Sam was starting to get sick of playing mediator between them.

“How did you know her?” Sam asked, and James paused mid-step, then turned to his two companions.

“She was held by an offshoot group of HYDRA scientists at a lab in the Czech Republic from the age of eight. They gave her a modified version of the super soldier serum used on the soldiers at the Siberian facility against her will, and they kept her locked in the facility until she escaped when she was eighteen.” Every word was said carefully, and while Sam took that as Bucky struggling to tell the girl’s story, Zemo observed him with open curiosity. He could tell that there was quite a bit that the former Winter Soldier wasn’t telling them.

“Modified how?” He asked, and Barnes scowled, but Sam’s equally curious gaze made him bite his cheek to stop from chewing the Baron out.

“She was… faster than any other super soldier I’ve ever seen. Not as strong physically, but her reaction time is far superior. She heals fast like the rest of us, but they did something to her pain responses. Dulled them, but didn’t remove them completely. She wasn’t as aggressive as the ones in Siberia were. The scientists made some hormonal changes as well.” Bucky shrugged, getting uncomfortable as he mentioned that last part, and Zemo tilted his head, studying his reactions.

“She didn’t want the serum, though? I mean, she was eight when they took her. How old was she when they gave it to her?” Sam asked, and Barnes closed his eyes briefly, his expression pained.

“They gave it to her shortly after she arrived at the facility. Maybe a month. She was just a kid. I could hear her screaming from the other side of the facility. They didn’t put her through the same brainwashing bullshit they did to me, but she wasn’t willing like the other soldiers, so they… they used to beat her until she started to learn to fight back like they wanted. She tried to escape, but they never let her out of the facility.” He replied, “So don’t start up your ‘I need to kill all super soldiers’ bullshit with her, Zemo. She never had a choice.”

The Baron considered his words, pursing his lips for a moment before softening ever so slightly.

“As you say, she was only a child.”

Bucky nodded, then continued his solemn march, cresting the top of the hill and sighing as a dark wood cabin came into view. Smoke trailed from the chimney, and there was a long driveway heading from the cabin to the road they’d abandoned nearly a mile back due to Bucky’s insistence that they approach on foot from the forest lest she know they were coming. An old, beat up pickup truck sat like a rusty silver beacon in the driveway with a large, newer-looking storage box hooked into the bed. There was a storage shed behind the cabin, and an old, large stump that appeared to be used as a woodcutter’s block considering the axe sunk deep into it. The firewood rack was full to the brim against the right wall of the cabin, and a full clothesline hung between the opposite side of the cabin and a sturdy nearby tree.

“You okay, man?” Sam asked, clapping Bucky on the shoulder when the other man didn’t move for over a minute, staring at the cabin trepidatiously. The hundred-and-six year old man was always tense, but his shoulders felt like iron under Sam’s hand.

“She might not be happy to see me.” Barnes admitted, and Sam hummed his acknowledgement, then started trudging down the small slope towards the house. This finally kicked Bucky into movement, and he followed swiftly, pausing only briefly when he spotted your tall frame exiting the shed behind the cabin. There was a Browning Citori against one shoulder, and blood had soaked into the dirty blue plaid shirt you wore. Your knees were muddy from kneeling in the woods. To the far left of the cabin in a clearing past a line of thick trees were two worn stones sticking out of the earth, and you approached calmly, dropping to kneel before them.

“Well, she looks real friendly.” Sam mused, clapping Bucky on the back, “Good luck.”

Five hours earlier, you had thumped a deer carcass down on the butcher table in your shed, then hung your trusty shotgun on the rack behind the door where it belonged. It had taken you a long time to perfect field dressing, and even longer to learn to get good at butchering your meat, but you had learned. You had no choice. Society and its shiny grocery stores full of pre-packaged food were far too dangerous for you. HYDRA still had a hold on the world when you first escaped, and there were still monstrous little tentacles everywhere who had escaped the punishment they deserved for what they had done. You knew how to hunt humans, so animals weren’t such a big stretch. Now, after fourteen years, you were an expert at surviving on your own. You went into town once a month at most, on a different day every time to avoid routine, to pick up the essentials you couldn’t scavenge for yourself.

With the deer butchered and packed away in your meat freezer, you made your way towards the two gravestones just out of view of your cabin. With a heavy sigh, you tucked the shotgun under your chin, sitting with it between your knees, and stared at the cold stones. Upon one, Rickard Stroud. On the other, Imogen Whitley.

“Thank you both. Thank you Imogen, for having mercy on a broken creature and freeing me from my shackles. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you in return. I bet you’re sick of hearing it by now, but I will never forget what you sacrificed for me. Thank you Rickard, for leaving me everything I needed to survive. I wish I could have known you. I hope you wouldn’t be too mad at me for moving into your home, but I promise I’ve tried my best to maintain it with the care you clearly did.”

Bucky jerked forwards as he watched you point the shotgun at yourself, panic racing through his veins at the thought of losing you before he’d even gotten you back. Not that he’d ever had you in the first place - you were a name on his reparations list that he needed to cross off. He was responsible for what happened to you, regardless of whether he was in control of himself or not. The entire choice to upend and ruin your life was made because of him. The inability to make amends sparked every selfish fear response in his body.

“Wait-” The Baron’s gloved hand closed around Bucky’s metal bicep, not quite able to pull him back, but enough to pause his forward momentum, “Look closely, James. Her finger is not on the trigger. This is a ritual.”

Sam felt sympathy coil in his gut as he watched the woman kneel in the dirt, the cold metal against her skin as if it gave her peace. He inwardly acknowledged that if anyone might understand a grief ritual of this specific breed, it might be Zemo, though he didn’t want to give the man the credit. Bucky stared down at her, seeming to deflate before their very eyes, though his face showed some measure of relief. He shrugged Zemo’s hand off of his arm, then continued forwards at a slower pace, no longer panicking. Zemo watched for a moment before following them, noting the way the woman’s head tilted ever-so-slightly in their direction before straightening out again.

Three approached from the southwest. One stomped through the forest despite the ability to soften his steps, one walked with purpose but made a poor attempt to soften his steps, and the third walked leisurely but with an awareness to his gait. All soldiers of varying service, if you weren’t mistaken. One of them was, unfortunately, familiar.

You let out a long, laboured sigh as you laid your shotgun down in front of you, then pushed yourself up from your knees. The footsteps stopped, and you shed your plaid shirt, leaving yourself in only a black undershirt and your muddy sweatpants. If this was going to be a fight, you’d make sure it was one they regretted. You spun to face the trio with a raised eyebrow, biceps flexing, shoulders rolling as you prepared yourself.

“Soldat. Falcon. Ah, and the Baron as well, how curious. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked, noticing Bucky’s gaze fixed on your shotgun, “Relax, Soldat, I’m far too much of a coward.”

The former Winter Soldier scoffed, taking another step closer to you but freezing when you took a step back, “I’m not going to do anything, doll. I’m not… I’m not him anymore.”

The Falcon put his hand on Barnes’ shoulder as if to hold him back and steady him all in one shot while the former Winter Soldier processed your fear of him, guilt eating away at his guts. The Baron leaned against a tree nearby to observe, just out of the way to avoid getting in the middle of any conflict.

“I know what you are, Barnes. Better than most.” You replied, glancing from him to the Baron and taking the time to stare at him from top to bottom, curious, “You’re working with Zemo. I would assume that meant you were here to kill me, but you would have chosen an easier method, surely. Which means that there’s another super soldier or two running about, and you’ve decided to try and bring me along. Why?”

Bucky squirmed as your intense stare moved from the now slightly flushed Baron back to him, and he clenched his fists a few times to work through the nerves.

“I’ve known where you were for a while. Look, I don’t want to call you… that, so what name are you using these days? Your old name?” You don’t answer him right away, brow arched sceptically as you observe his expression. “You’re long overdue for an apology, and we need someone who can go toe-to-toe with super soldiers.”

You scoffed, turning your back on them.

“I don’t have- I’ve been going by Stroud, after the guy who owned this cabin before I found it. My old name is no one’s business but mine, Barnes. He certainly doesn’t need to know any more about me than he already does. I’d like to be offended that you brought a man to my doorstep who will no doubt want me dead, but I suppose that the greater good calls, doesn’t it?” You asked, gesturing towards Zemo, whose somewhat conflicted expression did nothing to quell your worry.

“I don’t want you dead, liebling. You did not choose your fate, and you’ve kept to yourself instead of enforcing your will on others.” The Baron said confidently, and you acknowledged him with a nod, then turned a twisted smirk towards Barnes.

“You didn’t tell them my whole story, clearly. Was that to protect me, James, or was it to protect yourself?” You asked, and both Sam and Zemo turned their concerned gazes to the former soldier. You picked up your shotgun lazily, marching towards the house.

“Why don’t we go inside and Barnes can tell you the whole story. From the beginning, since he remembers all of it. Take off your shoes - if you track mud through my house I’ll make you regret it.” You called over your shoulder, tapping off your boots on the porch then heading through the door. Once inside, you kicked them off and headed towards your bedroom to get changed. When you returned, the Baron was standing in your kitchen making tea while Barnes and Sam took up every inch of space on the small sofa. You claimed your armchair after scooting it at least a foot out of Bucky’s reach.

“Well, go ahead, James. Tell them my sordid tale. Or, at least, the parts you conveniently left out.” You encouraged him, accepting the tea that Zemo offered you with a soft ‘Danke’. He nodded, returning shortly after with a tray of tea and water for himself and the others. When he sat in the other armchair no more than a foot or two away from you, you didn’t scoot away, simply looked him up and down quickly as if assessing a threat. His demure smile did little to soothe you, but you weren’t scared of him in this situation - he was much more terrifying when he had the time and space to plan your demise.

“Stroud was eight when… when I was sent to kidnap her. She spent her summers and school breaks in Sokovia, but grew up in Canada, chosen because she had no genetic deficiencies or hereditary health issues. She was on vacation with her parents visiting her family in Sokovia when they sent me. I… I took her to the lab just outside of Prague, and HYDRA left me there for a couple of months while she settled in. They unfroze me up a couple times through the years to… to test her.” Bucky explained, watching Sam and Zemo’s faces to see their reactions.

“Your family is Sokovian?” The Baron asked, and you shrugged your shoulders but nodded.

“My father, and my mother’s maternal side. They were in Novigrad.” You explained, and he gave you a sympathetic nod, “Tell them the rest, James. I don’t believe the news will make my Baron want to kill me any more, now that he knows I’m one of his citizens.”

It was said teasingly, but from the way Zemo shifted in his seat and pursed his lips, you didn’t think you were far off. You could understand - he had lost his homeland, and you were a relic of that, using it against him to protect yourself shamelessly.

“The scientists chose her because… they liked her genetics. She didn’t have any concerning genes, hereditary health conditions, and none of her family suffered from any obvious addictions…” Bucky took a deep, steadying breath before continuing, “This was important to them because… because they wanted to… they theorised that breeding two super soldiers might create a stronger variant.”

Silence reigned, while you sipped your tea patiently, letting the men absorb that painful and disgusting truth. Sam got up from the sofa, clearly needing to pace, his hands resting on his hips as he thought it over. Bucky seemed to sink into the sofa on the other hand, as if he could hide from this somehow. Zemo rubbed his hand over his mouth, lost in thought, but it seemed that the most active of them all found his voice first.

“So they made you kidnap a child so they could turn her into your… what, baby mama?” Sam asked, his sneering face matching yours. He wasn’t mad at Bucky, obviously, but the entire concept of this was entirely antithetical to his worldview and moral structure.

“Does that seem so far out of the realm of possibility for the psychotic eugenic-freak nazis, Falcon?” You asked, and he shuddered visibly, “I wasn’t trained the same way as the Widows, or the other Soldiers. I didn’t need to be. I was just a broodmare, and the Winter Soldier was to be my eighteenth birthday present. Shame they didn’t put a bow on him.”

Zemo squeezed his eyes closed in your periphery, his jaw clenched tightly, and you took pity on the men who were clearly struggling with this reveal. Sam’s fury was evident, his whole being like an exposed nerve upon which his last remaining vestiges of control were barely a bandaid. The Baron, however, kept himself far more under wraps than the other two. There were signs, of course, to his discomfort, but he restrained himself in a way that Sam and Bucky both were incapable of.

“I’m still… God, pleasantly surprised sounds terrible, but it was a shock that they waited until you were eighteen. I… I still have nightmares about that day. And only partially because you tried to bite my throat out.” Bucky said, trying to sound playful on that last part despite the trauma you were all discussing. He didn’t quite achieve the tone he was trying to set, and you gave him a serious look, bordering on sympathy.

“Tried? James, I nearly got your jugular. You had to go into surgery immediately, that’s the only reason they stopped the whole thing.” You reminded him, and he shrugged, clearly thinking he deserved it, “Enough about me. Tell me what brings three of the four horsemen to my doorstep.”

Barnes huffed a breath through his nose at the reference, but Sam stepped in to show you the video from Torres and explain the Flagsmashers to you. You hummed along appropriately, considering his words as he described the truck fight to you, and explained who the hell John Walker was when he came up. When Sam was done, you turned your gaze to the man who’d kidnapped you so many years ago and narrowed your eyes, dubious rather than angry.

“You come to my home bringing death and destruction to my doorstep, Barnes. Why? You think you’re enough to bring me into the light? I have weathered much darker storms, Soldat. I have kept to myself while your so called Avengers ripped themselves and each other apart. Why do you think I will join you now to squash this little resistance? All that your friends have done is raise the bar for sinister minds. I am not like you, James, I never wanted this. I never wanted to be a soldier, or to save the world. I wanted to be a gardener. I had such… Lofty aspirations. As if my hands can do anything now but destroy.”

You stood as you finished your tirade, eerily calm as you walked towards the kitchen, giving the men space. For your safety and theirs. You placed a box of your favourite tea on the counter, examining your kitchen for anything you would want to bring with you if you decided to accept.

“The people who have this serum are dangerous, doll. We don’t know how many there are, what their plan is, and how bad things will get. I need backup. I need someone who can withstand a fight against them, or this might go south.” Barnes explained as best as he could, “You’re hiding here, barely living. I get it. But you deserve better. If you help us, we can back you up against whatever remnants of HYDRA are left if they come for you. You could live a better life.”

You scoffed, splaying your hands out on the countertop to brace yourself as you considered your choices.

In the end, you think it must’ve been inevitable. What else could you have done?

Music pounds in your ears as you walk through a crowd towards the bar, your arm delicately linked with that of the Baron. No one knew you here despite your brief stint while you were roaming the world aimlessly in an attempt at getting away from your past, and having you as backup that blended in rather than outwardly dressed as a soldier was the best choice, according to Zemo. You weren’t sure you’d be much help at all - after years in the quiet of the woods by yourself, the bar was overwhelming at best. But, Zemo had been confident when he presented you with a dress that you were certain despite knowing very little about dresses that must have cost a fortune, and told you your role. Tonight, you would be arm candy. It had taken ages to get yourself groomed enough to pass as anything but a wild woman, but you had to admit as you admired yourself in the mirror that you did clean up well.

Despite knowing he is more of a threat than he appears - evident in the bulge of his bicep against your arm if nothing else - the man is a comforting presence. His grip on your waist is possessively tight as he guides you in front of him at the bar, caging you in with his body. His nose bumps against your ear and you shiver as he whispers against it.

“What would you like to drink, schatz?”

“Whiskey, please, Baron.” You say back, louder than he had asked you, looking at the bartender through your lashes. He hums a response, greeting Sam and asking for his drink order while he pours a shot for Zemo. You watch over the rim of your glass as Sam struggles with his repulsive drink, distracted by the soft stroking of Zemo’s hand over your stomach, and his lips against your neck. Something about having constant, roving contact with him is making it easier to tune out every other overstimulating input in the bar. You wonder if he planned it this way, or if he’s simply putting on a show. You can feel Bucky glaring at him, but the Baron seems nonplussed by the Winter Soldier’s ire.

You aren't a huge fan of physical contact, but Zemo had quietly explained his plan to you on the plane ride to Madripoor, and cleared what he might have to do to enforce your role with you. It was far more than you expected from the man, but the consideration was worthwhile in making you trust him at least a little. You had a safe word, which had been a new concept to you that Zemo had surprisingly patiently explained while studiously ignoring the way that Barnes glared daggers at his back. You weren't entirely sure what James' problem was with Zemo and you specifically, but you were putting it down to either base male ego due to the fact that you were intended for him (a gross concept) or protective instinct (less gross, but unnecessary). Or both, perhaps. He was only human, after all.

The Sokovian had done a good job of pretending that Barnes didn't exist, focused entirely on you as he explained that he may have to touch you quite intimately, and likely would have to kiss you. Selby was a woman who delighted in the obscene at times, and had a taste for pretty things. She might demand a show of perversion to prove you weren't a spy while simultaneously getting her rocks off. You gave him permission to do what he had to do, and promised that after the events were over, you would check in with him privately. You had to admit, you were impressed by his genuine show of concern, and the amount of effort he was putting into establishing consent and trust with you.

Even now, he kept his body between yours and anyone else's in a way that protected your personal space but seemed possessive to the outward eye. A man approaches Zemo from behind, telling him that the message from above is that he isn't welcome, and you splay your hands across his stomach to brace him, staring up into his eyes to see if he needs you. He speaks to the man calmly, and you slip your hand under his shirt to trace along his ribs, your gaze moving between your date for the night and the man ‘interrupting’ it like you were simply an impatient girl. The man leaves, and you listen as Zemo explains the power broker, pausing briefly and switching to Russian as a hand clasps around his shoulder.

"Winter Soldier. Attack."

The man is swiftly removed, and you watch around Zemo's shoulder as Barnes goes on the attack, your arms slipping around the Baron's waist in a way that he clearly approves of from the rumble he lets out, and the hand that covers yours to hold you in place. He’s smirking as he watches the fight, and you scoff as he pushes another body at Bucky before making a snarky comment to Sam about how little it took for him to fall back into form. Like it wasn’t his fault. You roll your eyes, pressing closer to the Baron as if trying to watch the fight, and using that closeness to whisper in his ear,

“Try to enjoy this a little less, Baron. You’re being too obvious. S’a flimsy basis for the wedge you’re trying to drive.”

You feel him shiver against you, and his honey eyes find yours over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Apologies, häschen.”

Soon enough, the violence ends and you are brought back to meet Selby, letting the Baron guide you into his lap as if you belonged there. A large, warm hand closes around the meat of your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and you watch Selby's eyes track the movement with a hunger that makes you squirm against the man beneath you. Barnes and Sam watch with disapproval on their faces, though they snap back into character swiftly enough it goes unnoticed. The Baron gives you two squeezes, and you settle, draping yourself back against his chest with your head on his shoulder, face tucked demurely into his neck.

"She's a pretty thing, isn't she? New pet, Zemo? Last I heard you were in a German lockup. How'd you get out, and how'd you get a sweet little thing like that so quickly?" Selby asks, and Zemo laughs.

"People like us will always find a way." He remarks, "As for this little häschen... she hopped her way to me when she found out I was free, like a good little girl."

Selby's gaze digs into you, and you lift your head from Zemo's shoulder to trail kisses along his jaw, murmuring a quiet 'Hel, baby, I'm bored.' against his skin. You say it just loud enough to be heard, and you can see Selby out of the corner of your eye, her eyes glued to your thighs as if staring hard enough would make them open. You pointedly ignore the stirring you feel beneath you, knowing he’s only a man and at that, a man who’d been imprisoned for eight long years. It probably has nothing to do with you. The conversation continues around you as Zemo offers Selby the Winter Soldier in exchange for information about the super soldier serum, and you do your job well despite having no experience to draw on beyond the seconds the Winter Soldier had his hands on you before you nearly tore his throat out with your teeth. The Baron shivers as you kiss along his jugular, stopping briefly mid-sentence to squeeze your thigh with one hand while the other grips your hair and pulls you back.

“Häschen, I am working. You will wait.” He reprimands you gently, nipping your lower lip when you pout dramatically. Liquid fire floods your veins, and you have to clench your thighs to temporarily quell the burn even though you know he’ll feel it and probably know why.

“Give the girl a bone, Baron, she’s clearly gagging for it.” Selby commands, and you know from her tone that you’ve ignited her. Zemo glances at Selby briefly before sliding his hand further up under your dress, his fingertips skimming across your cunt. He gives you a startled look when he realises you’ve forgone wearing underwear, but masks it quickly before Selby could notice. You’re mortified to find that you’re soaked, and he can definitely feel it. He knows. The little hitch in his breath at the realisation makes your cunt throb.

“I’ve been trying to teach her patience, Selby. You know how easily a brat is born without a firm hand.” He reminds her somewhat playfully, and Selby smirks as she watches him spread your legs a little. It’s embarrassing to know she can see you, and she is shameless about tilting her head to take a long look, but you knew it was a possibility and you didn’t blame him for it. You try for an eager look instead of nervous, but yelp as Zemo’s hand slaps your cunt with a loud and worryingly wet-sounding smack, “She will get what she wants when she earns it.”

Something in that makes you sigh, and Zemo lets out a soft breath of a laugh, catching your lips in a kiss that sends fire through your veins. Your first kiss, somehow at 32, and it’s all a bit of a game. At least it’s a good one, the Baron’s soft lips moving gently against yours, guiding you to respond to him as his hand cups your jaw. His thumb traces over your cheek, tongue slipping past your lips to taste you, and you try desperately to make it seem like you aren’t as inexperienced as you are.

“Now that you’ve had your fun-” Selby begins as you part, leaving a string of saliva connecting you, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of Sam’s cellphone. You close your eyes, biting your cheek to restrain any noise of frustration, then shift in Zemo’s lap as if nothing is wrong at all while you survey the room for all aggressors and exits.

“Answer it. On speaker.”

Sam does, and you listen with a roll of your eyes as the man has a conversation with his sister. Strong hands hold you as the tension in the room mounts, until Sarah says her brother’s name, and the jig is up. Fortunately, Selby is swiftly assassinated. Unfortunately, Selby is now dead, and it appears as if it is your fault. Walking the streets of Madripoor’s Lowtown knowing that a bounty is likely already set on your head with the dings of phones all around you as the soundtrack of your departure is, you find, a great way to raise your blood pressure.

As all hell breaks loose, Zemo drags you in the opposite direction as Sam and Bucky, and you let him despite the obvious warning signals. You’re touched by how protective he acts, tucking you behind him when someone gets into your path. He efficiently takes out a man with a handgun, pilfering it from his body and leading you through several alleyways until you meet up with Sam and Bucky just as their pursuers are executed.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo remarks to the two men, and you hum, keen ears picking up the crunch of boots just as Sharon Carter rounds into the alley with you all.

“Well this is too perfect.” She chimes, gun pointed directly at the Baron instead of Sam or Bucky. Instinct flares, and you move before you can rethink your actions, one hand clasping around her wrist to remove the gun while the other jabs sharply into her elbows to buckle her arms and stop her from being able to immediately retaliate. You turn the gun on her, grip confident as you step out of her reach.

“Who the fuck are you?” She asks, sneering as you place yourself between her and Zemo. She shifts as if trying to get an angle on him, and you mirror her effortlessly, eyebrow raised as you wait for her next move.

“You do not need to know.” You reply, tuning out the world to listen to her heart pound.

“What are you, Zemo’s new guard dog?”

You smirk. The Baron’s gaze sits heavy between your shoulders, and you wonder at his expression. Barnes and Wilson’s are less difficult to imagine.

“Woof.”

Sam and Bucky intervene to explain the situation, and you take the gun from Zemo before the others can demand it, surprised that he lets you so easily. His eyes burrow into you, and you tilt your head nearly in time with him, both of you attempting to understand each other as in the background, Sharon offers you all a place to stay in Hightown. As the boys negotiate with Sharon for her cooperation, you duck into the bathroom to clean up, pulling up the skirt of your dress. There are bruises on your thighs already, your healing factor taking you through the process faster than any human body could. More worrying to you is how wet you are. It’s not as if you don’t understand what is happening - you have a lack of experience, not knowledge - and it’s not as if you’ve never touched yourself. Unfortunately, your night isn’t over, and the cause of your apparent arousal was waiting in the other room. You’d pointed a gun at the proprietor of the house for him less than an hour prior. The instinct to protect was strong in you - it always has been, and apparently, you wanted to protect Zemo. Why? Because he had been kind to you?

You breathe out a heavy sigh, cleaning yourself up liberally before you head back into the other room, and you catch Zemo’s eyes darkening as he looks upon you. At first, you’re uncertain why, until you see his gaze flicker down to your pelvis and you remember that he’s the only one in the room aware that you aren’t wearing underwear. You bite your lip, hoping perhaps that he’ll forget or misunderstand how wet you were. You think you might die if he brings it up.

“Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay out of trouble and I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon says as she heads upstairs, and Zemo smirks as he shrugs, one hand open palmed in faux innocence while the other grips his tumbler of whiskey.

“Trouble?”

You have to give it to Sharon, she definitely knows how to throw a party.

You move through the crowd as the beat pounds in your ears, dodging drunken party goers with a supernatural alacrity gifted to you by the serum. The blue neons cast a surprisingly attractive light across the crowd, and you watch with growing amusement as Sam flirts with a girl while pretending to examine a gorgeous Monet. Bucky tries to get you to stay close to him, but you dip under his arm and continue on your path to the bar, ignoring the way he calls after you. A shot glass is slid into your hand moments after you smell him approaching. Warm and musky and delicious, with traces of leather and old books lingering on the edges of your awareness.

“We should talk.” The Baron murmurs, and you nod despite wanting to run, turning to him to find yourself once more caged between his body and the bar. You take a breath, clenching your thighs again as he examines your expression like he’s dissecting you.

“When the night is over, as promised, we will talk.” You reply, taking the shot easily after clinking it against his glass. He raises his glass to you, then takes the shot as if it isn't even alcohol, keeping his eyes on you. In this light, they’re more chocolate than honey, but no less expressive. You wonder if he’s getting drunk - your tolerance is better than any human’s, and you’re not sure how much it takes someone who isn’t a super soldier to begin to feel it - since he’s now on his third or fourth drink at the very least tonight.

“My room or yours?” Zemo asks, and you consider it before offering him a faint shrug.

“Yours will do. I can’t promise Buck won’t be trying to break my door down for an unnecessary heart-to-heart.”

The Baron smirks, and you lean up to kiss his cheek as you slip past him, feeling him lean into it but not letting yourself dwell on it, “Have some fun, Zemo. I’ll come find you in a little bit. Be safe.”

“Tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.” Sam mutters to you, and you hum, looking away from the painting Bucky is showing you to follow the other man’s gaze. It doesn’t take long for either super soldier to spot what has caught his attention, and you stifle a laugh, pushing at Sam’s shoulder playfully. Bucky’s snort and subsequent coughing on his drink makes your laughter break through, and you end up gripping Sam’s shirt for stability as you try to get a hold of yourself.

“He’s a rich boy, Sam, I’m sure you’d look much the same if you tried your hand at a slow waltz.” You tease, drawing a chuckle from Barnes. He leans closer to you, hand sweeping over your lower back in what you’re sure is probably a platonic way, but still gives you the heebie-jeebies as he reminds you that you don’t need to defend the Baron. His lips are too close to your ear, and he’s looking at you too intensely for you to handle despite his playful smile. You turn your back to Zemo to look at both Bucky and Sam, stepping out of the former Winter Soldier’s reach.

“So, who’s gonna go save him from himself and show him how to actually dance? Any takers? Consider it charity work if it makes you feel better.” You grin at them, your tone playful despite how tense you are, and Sam snorts.

“How d’you know how to dance? You’re basically a homeschool kid on steroids.”

That draws a genuine laugh from you, and you shrug your shoulders as you begin backing towards the Baron, decision made.

“I spent years roaming Europe and at least a month clubbing here in Madripoor, Sam. I may not have experience in a lot of things, but dancing is definitely not one of them. You keep Buck here unmolested by the masses, and I’ll handle our Baron.” You tease.

“Yeah, you’ll handle him alright. Gross.” Sam retorts mostly under his breath, only audible to you due to your enhanced hearing. You’re laughing as you approach Zemo, and you boldly slide an arm around his waist from behind as you press yourself up against his back, grinning as he startles. He twists to face you, and his smile is more open - genuine - as he takes you in. You’re not sure if he’s just decided he likes you, or if he’s a little tipsy.

“You’ve never danced like this before, Baron.” You state plainly, and he laughs, almost bashful but not quite as he shrugs his broad shoulders.

“Perhaps not, but I am enjoying myself.” He retorts, letting you guide him until his hips are pressing into yours, winding with the music in a way that can’t possibly be anything but intimate. You’re not sure why it’s so easy for you to touch and be touched by Zemo, when Bucky laying a hand on you sends shivers down your spine, but you don’t want to think on that too heavily right now under the blue neon lights and the pulsing of the music. As the crowd closes in around you, you move with them, all the while guiding Zemo through it. He’s observant, and he learns quickly, watching the rest of the crowd move until finally he feels confident. You grin as he presses against your back, his arm looping around your waist slowly enough that you could escape it if you so desired. His chin brushes your shoulder, and you’re tempted to look at him to see what he’s looking at, but you get distracted by a man who had been approaching you until he froze a couple feet away. You tilt your head curiously as he turns around and walks the other way, but Zemo’s mouth brushes against the back of your neck, and you scoff as you put two and two together.

“Protective or possessive, Baron?” You ask him boldly, and he smiles against your skin as if he isn’t surprised by the question at all.

“Oh, I believe both should cover it, schatzi.” he replies, guiding you towards the bar with a gentle hand on your back, “You don’t like when people touch you, even if you like them well enough. You flinched when Sharon touched your arm to apologise for her presumed insult, you shy away from Sam even though you laugh and smile with him often, and I don’t think I need to begin to touch on your avoidance of Barnes. I appear to be exempt from that, however I didn’t think he would be. I apologise if I was presumptuous.”

You order a drink for the both of you, as well as a shot each, laughing to yourself despite being a little touched by his observance.

“No, you’re not sorry. You know you were presumptuous, you’re just banking on the fact that you’re right. And now, when I tell you you are, it will reinforce your behaviour in the future.” You inform him, letting him cage you against the bar for the third time this night, “Fortunately, I’m okay with your presumptuousness, in this circumstance.”

Zemo clinks his shot against yours, and you both take them together, laughing when you spot an incredulous Sam and a frustrated Bucky staring directly at you. His metal arm is tense, hand fisted, and you’re glad he isn’t holding on to anything because it would most certainly be crushed by now. You give them a cheeky wave, and have to bite back your snicker when Zemo, seemingly noticing their attention, pulls you tighter to him so he can press his smug little smirk into the curve of your neck.

“You’re going to get yourself attacked soon, you know?” You ask in a sing-song voice, and he chuckles against your skin, collecting his drink and letting you lead him through the rows of stolen artwork. He lets you take his hand and squeezes gently, keeping no more than a step behind you the whole way.

“I’m certain I can handle it.” He retorts, and you laugh for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. You can’t remember the last time you laughed so much. You can’t remember the last time your life felt so full.

“Man, you really are trouble, aren’t you Baron?”

‘Interogating’ Nagel is a complete shitshow. You don’t blame Zemo for what he did, despite Sam and Bucky’s endless irritation. Nagel was smart enough to recreate and refine the super soldier serum, and he had to be stopped. He worked for HYDRA. You hadn’t had the chance to ask, but you were sure he easily could’ve been involved in the project that created you. He was the type who would never stop, no matter what got in his way - this was his life’s work. He was the type who would keep recreating it and refining it until he made even worse monsters than he already had.

You were just thankful that Zemo dragged you out with him before the second explosion, even if you would’ve been fine with the others. You didn’t have a gun, and a firefight would have been less than ideal, though you knew you could handle it. The Baron takes down several men while wearing a purple mask before you could even try to help him, and you roll your eyes as you follow him through the rows of shipping containers until he finds a car that makes his eyes light up. You can’t help a fond smile as he helps you into the passenger seat as if you need it, and you kick your feet up onto the dash. He offers you a surprisingly boyish grin, and you don’t feel any inclination to move away when his gloved hand closes around your thigh through your jeans, giving you a gentle squeeze that sears through you. You close your hand around his, and his gaze burns through you as he starts to drive, only looking away when he absolutely has to.

You’re going to die if he doesn’t tuck that stupid lock of hair out of his face.

Following the trail to Karli Morgenthau to Riga was simple with the use of Zemo’s jet, but you didn’t know the trials and tribulations that awaited you when you made it to his home in Latvia. While Bucky went on a walk to be sneaky, the Baron gave you and Sam a tour of his house, which you were kind of in love with. The style of the house was stunning, and you found yourself looking around excitedly for the next subtle detail that would catch your eye. Sam was quick to agree when Zemo offered you one of the three bedrooms to stay in by yourself, claiming the master as expected, and leaving the third to Sam and James. Then, he told you you could wear any clothing you found, that the second bathroom had a shower if you needed it, and departed into the master to clean up.

Sam gave you the honour first, and you tried to be efficient with your time, turning the water up just on the right side of too hot while you scrubbed yourself down. Once you were done, you dressed in a large purple dress shirt paired with a stolen pair of boxers that covered up enough of your thighs to be decent.

Now, sitting in the living room watching Zemo in his navy silk robe as he moved confidently around the kitchen, you wish you would’ve chosen anything else. When he first saw you, his eyes had burned into you. Now, you had three pairs of eyes on you for very different reasons, and you wanted to punch someone in the mouth. Sam’s gaze is a bit disdainful, since he detests Zemo and finds it incredibly uncomfortable that you don’t. Zemo looks equal parts smug and starving, which you wouldn’t mind so much if it weren’t for James glaring between the two of you like you’d both insulted him. His glare was softer on you, sure, but it was still uncomfortable when he had no right to be upset with you for wearing clean clothes. It wasn’t your fault that they’d rushed you out of your house when you agreed to help, and you’d only packed a couple of outfits.

As the boys discuss Karli, you find yourself lost in thought. What was your endgame, here? The Flagsmashers had attacked the GRC (who could all get fucked if you were being honest) instead of simply stealing from them, blowing up a building with several people still inside. There was a death toll now. That changed things. You could sympathise with Morgenthau, but you weren’t at all comfortable with her possession of the super soldier serum - both the vials of it, and that which ran through her and her companions' veins. At this point, she seemed to be escalating, and there was nothing worse than the escalation of a being with unnatural abilities. Power corrupts, and it was beginning to corrupt her if it hadn’t already warped her mind.

The Baron rants about the serum, and Karli, and you sigh as you hop up onto the counter. Sam wants to save Karli, you know it, and you’re sad for him. You know she won’t give up, no matter the cost. Nothing could outweigh her aspirations at this point. Hopefully, speaking to her at Danya’s funeral would help, but you were aware it was equally as likely to feed Karli’s anger as it was her compassion. Your eyes track the turkish delight that Zemo tosses to Sam and you have to restrain a grin at the way he says ‘Titi’.

“Zemo is right. Karli is dangerous. It’s worth trying to speak to her to see if she can be reasoned with, but you can’t hold out too much hope, Sam. It’ll break your heart when she fails you. And she will.”

Zemo gestures to you in agreement, and you hum as he plucks a turkish delight from the dish, reaching for it. To Sam and Bucky’s disgust, he unwraps it for you, and you open your mouth obediently for it even though you might’ve normally protested. Bugging Sam and James was beginning to become a sport.

“Come on, man.” Sam grumbles under his breath as you lick the sugar from the Baron’s fingertips, and you flip him off blindly, grinning around the sweet treat. Zemo’s eyes are all molten chocolate as he watches you chew.

“Okay, you know what? I’m starving. I’m getting food. Buck, c’mon. If she wants to spend her time with the Baron, we might as well let her keep an eye on him, and get ourselves some time without him.” Sam remarks, slapping Bucky’s arm, and the two depart while you shout over your shoulder for them to bring dinner home for you. Once they’re gone, Zemo raises an eyebrow at you.

“We didn’t get to talk.” He reminds you, and you nod, “I would like to. Have I made you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head, and he examines your expression for honesty before continuing, “I hoped Selby wouldn’t take an interest in you. I apologise for… groping you the way I did. I hope I did not cause you undue discomfort. Thank you, for disarming Miss Carter when she pointed the gun at me in Madripoor.”

Shrugging, you lean towards him a little, trying to read his face despite feeling as if you know what he wants.

“Her interest made her ask fewer questions. You don’t have to apologise for touching me - you asked permission before the mission, and I enjoyed it, as I’m sure you’re aware. I know that Sam and Barnes don’t trust you, but I trust what I know of you - you’ve gone out of your way to establish consent with me when you didn’t have to, you’ve protected me despite the serum that pumps through my veins, and I know you want to put an end to the Flagsmashers if only because they chose their fate. I don’t agree with everything you’ve done, Zemo, but I… I like who you are, and I can understand your choices even if I don’t approve of them.” You explain, rolling your lip over your teeth, and he moves a little closer to you.

“Helmut.” He murmurs, and you smile, watching as he drops a hand to your knee to see if you’ll protest, “I would like it if you would call me Helmut.”

“Not Hel?” You ask playfully, grinning as his grip tightens, pulling you to the edge of the counter as he steps between your legs.

“If you want to feel the softness of my bed while I reclaim my stolen clothes, by all means.” Zemo replies, and your pupils dilate as you consider the possibilities. The consequences. He’s so close, and you clench your knees around his hips, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. You swallow it, cupping his cheeks in your hands as your lips press against his. It takes very little effort for Zemo to lift you into his arms, and he carries you to the master bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him so he can drop you on his bed in privacy. He wouldn’t put it past Barnes or Sam to interrupt them on purpose.

“You weren’t kidding - this is way softer than the bed you gave me, Hel.” You tease, and he chuckles as he crawls over you, pressing you back into the sheets. He doesn’t hover over you like you might’ve thought he would. Instead, he lays mostly on top of you, hips against yours, and you feel smothered by him in the best way possible. He kisses you softly at first, but his passion grows as you respond fiercely, your hands gliding through his hair to get a good grip.

“Have you done this before, liebling?” He asks quietly, hushed with the intimacy of the closeness between you. You shake your head, locking your legs around his hips as you comb your fingers through his hair.

“When I was… before I escaped, they made the Winter Soldier pin me to my bed and… he was about to put it inside, so I leaned up and bit his neck as hard as I could. Since then, I haven’t had much desire. I danced a lot at clubs around Europe and in Madripoor when I was running from HYDRA before I found my cabin, to get used to people, but I never… I never indulged. You were my first kiss.” You admit, curling his hair around your fingers, and you can see the way his pupils dilate at that. He captures your lips again, and you feel the rumble of his moan against you, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Do you have a purity kink, Helmut?” You ask with a giggle, and he nips at your collarbone, grinding his hips into you.

“Perhaps. I hadn’t thought of it before,” He admits breathlessly, pausing to suck a dark mark into your neck, “I like the idea of being the only man to have you.”

Warm hands slowly unbutton the shirt you’re wearing, and you lay your head back with a gasp as your Baron’s lips trail kisses down over every inch of exposed skin. He smirks against your sternum, murmuring sweetness in Sokovian that has you sighing and tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I understand you, you know?” You whisper, and he blinks up at you as you’ve cut him off in the middle of waxing poetic about the size and shape of your breasts. He raises an eyebrow, tweaking your nipple between his fingers and biting down gently on the curve of your breast.

“I know, liebling. I can feel you tremble as you burn for me.”

You grab at his robe in retaliation, shoving it down over his shoulders insistently while he simultaneously tries to get his stolen boxers off of you. It doesn’t go very well for either of you, so he sits back out of reach to take off his robe for you, leaving himself in only a pair of boxers similar to the ones you’re wearing. Your fingertips rake through his chest hair as he crawls over you, and he sighs at the feeling, pulling your legs around him. In one easy movement, he pulls you up into his lap, one hand holding your lower back while the other strips his shirt from you. He kisses you slowly, sliding his hands into your boxers to grasp at your ass, squeezing as he pushes your hips together so you can feel how much he wants you.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” Zemo whispers against your lips, forcing himself to part from you despite how much he’d rather not. He kisses along your neck as he waits for you to answer, thumbs stroking over your nipples as he grinds against you.

“I’m inexperienced, Hel, I’m not dead.” You retort with a laugh, gripping his hair, “You feel bigger than the toys I’ve used though.”

That draws a hum from your Baron, and he lays you back on the bed, hooking his fingers in your boxers so he can drag them down your legs to toss them behind him. You look down at the tent in his boxers, wetting your lips and slowly spreading your legs for him, letting him take a good long look at what he has done to you. A low groan slips from his lips and he skims his hands up your thighs to soothe the tremble in them.

“I won’t hurt you, schatz.” He reminds you, gentle but serious, and you nod to say you know and understand. You glance at his boxers again, and he follows your gaze, quickly realising what you want. You watch as he shuffles out of the tight fabric, tossing it off the side of the bed and giving you a chance to stare at him. You’ve seen a cock before from a distance, but your only other close-up experience hadn’t put you in a position to see anything and while the Winter Soldier was being taken away by medical staff, you were unable to see anything, too busy with the taste of blood and flesh in your mouth. It didn’t help that one of the scientists took it upon himself to backhand you as punishment for your act of self-defence, sending you reeling.

Helmut Zemo is a gifted man. You can’t help but stare as he gives his cock a couple slow strokes to ease his discomfort, thumb stroking over the head to collect his precum to ease the glide. He’s bigger than you expected, thick enough that you aren’t sure how he’s going to fit, and long enough that you know he’s going to bump against your cervix with every thrust. You swallow hard, mentally trying to compare his cock to the toys you’ve used in the past, and trembling as you realise he’s easily twice as thick.

Sensing your panic, Zemo crawls onto the bed with you, covering you with his body again as he presses kisses to your lips. Your legs wrap almost instinctively around his waist, but he doesn’t try to take advantage of the position, focusing on intimacy instead of quick pleasures.

“Relax, liebling. I’m right here. I have you.” he murmurs as he nuzzles against your cheek, and you let out a breathy sigh, clutching at his back. He strokes his hands up and down over your sides until you relax under his touch, then begins a slow trail of kisses down your chest and stomach. You sigh as you realise what he’s doing, and your head falls back against the pillows before his lips even manage to make contact with the wet, aching heat of your cunt. His hands close around your thighs from below, pushing them up and apart as he plants a kiss against you, then swipes the flat of his tongue up through your cunt all the way up to flick across your clit. You shudder, and he holds you a little tighter, delving in with soft licks and sucking kisses that have you grabbing at the sheets beneath you.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you whimper his name as he swirls his tongue around your clit then sucks it into his mouth, his eyes dark as night as he stares up at you to watch your face. Every move is calculated, running off of your reactions and looking to draw out more, desperate to feel you fall apart for him. It isn’t until his fingers gently prod at your entrance that you feel anything but pleasure. A small spike of fear, soothed by a gentle kiss to your tummy that feels unexpectedly sweet.

One finger, and then a second fill you, but you feel no pain. It’s about the same girth as the toy you’ve used, but no toy has ever been able to stroke across that spot inside of you with such surgical precision. His lips close around your clit, and you let out a cry as the dual sensations overwhelm you, trying your damnedest not to yank on his hair though you’re sure you fail since he grunts against you. There is nothing urgent or rushed about this - this is a slow, methodical dismantling of every rational thought, every worry, every fear you’ve ever had. This is a reconstruction on a spiritual level, replacing worries with pleasure, and fears with happiness, and thoughts with need.

You realise as you have the thought to tell Zemo how good he’s making you feel that there’s certainly no question about it. You didn’t even notice how much noise you were making, the soft whines and moans falling from your lips completely unrestrained, and it’s as if you zone back into your surroundings only to have them wiped away. A crook of your Baron’s fingers and a particularly hard suck on your clit have you tossing your head back against the pillows and shouting his name, “Baron!” and “Helmut!” in equal measure.

You return to yourself again to find yourself cradled in your Baron’s arms, his nose nuzzling gently against your cheekbone as he strokes your back, your thighs clenched around his hips as he presses you bodily into the mattress. You blink, and he smiles at the sight of you, dipping down for a gentle kiss that makes you tremble.

“Oh.” You whisper, and he laughs softly.

“Are you okay, schatz? Do you need a minute?” Helmut asks. You shake your head urgently, tangling your fingers in his hair so you can pull him into a kiss that has him moaning into your mouth. You chase the taste of yourself, tongue sliding across his, then part with a gasp.

“I need you.” You whisper, and he groans against your lips, grinding his hips into yours.

“You have me.” He promises, pushing himself up a little so he can take himself in hand and press the head of his cock against your desperate cunt.

“Now, Hel. Don’t make me wait.”

His groan reverberates through you as he pushes inside, inch by inch, carving his way through your insides. By the time he bottoms out, you’re panting for breath, clinging to his back as he presses his chest to yours. The closeness soothes you, and keeps you from digging in your nails.

“Fuck.” You moan, and he groans in response, nodding against your shoulder.

“You’re so tight, schatz, you’re strangling my cock.” He murmurs without a hint of complaint in his tone. You don’t think you’ll ever be ready when he finally starts to pull out, but his next thrust drives the breath from your lungs, and you sob, tears in your eyes from the pleasure. He kisses them away so gently that you nearly want to cry again, whispering to you about how beautiful you are, how perfect you feel around him, and how desperately he needs you to be his.

“I am!” You proclaim, and he groans his approval, catching your lips in a kiss that sends fire racing through your veins. His pace has been brutally slow so far, but he begins to move faster now, each thrust driving him in to the hilt. It feels like punishment. It feels like atoning. It feels like rebirth. It feels like a new beginning without the fear that’s kept you trapped in the woods all by yourself for so many years you felt like giving up. Blunt teeth clamp around your neck and you shudder, tilting your head back to bare more of it to him.

“Mine.” He mutters around your skin, and you nod frantically.

“Yours. And you’re mine, Helmut. My Baron. I won’t give you back.” You insist, and his laugh is broken by a groan. By the time he releases his hold on you, you’ve got a fresh bruise darkening on your throat.

“You may have to, schatz. Your friends don’t want me out of prison.” He reminds you softly even as he shatters you into pieces, each thrust breaking you apart and putting you back together again. You clutch him tighter to you like somehow, in the shattering and reassembling, he can become part of you. Pressure builds inside of you until you feel fit to explode.

“F-Fuck them.” You growl, and he reaches between you to stroke your clit, gritting his teeth. He groans - nearly growls - as he comes, filling you to the brim and fucking it in deeper with his next couple of thrusts. The heat sends you reeling, and you choke on a gasp as your orgasm breaks across you like a tsunami, washing you clean.

Laying together, panting for breath under your Baron’s sturdy weight, you realise the choice you’ve made for yourself. He’s gentle as he pulls out of you, stroking your legs to make sure you aren’t too stiff, and reaching for his towel to clean you up.

“Perhaps, showering after this might have been a wiser choice.” He murmurs, and you shake your head.

“No, clean was nice, I would’ve been self conscious otherwise. This was perfect. I’ll shower again if I have to.”

That draws a soft laugh from Zemo’s lips, and he curls around you, nuzzling his face into your neck, “Do you need anything from me?”

You contemplate his question for a moment, then hum softly to yourself, nodding.

“Just hold me a little longer. I promise I’ll get up soon.”

Helmut rolls his eyes, pressing kisses along the line of your shoulder as he strokes his hands down over your body.

“You’re in no rush, liebling. We have time.”

You sigh, because you know that you really don’t.

You’re reminded that Baron Helmut Zemo had a child before you as well as a wife when he interacts with the children in Riga. You overhear him speaking to them, and acknowledge them with a nod when he gestures to you and tells them you’re safe too. You know this will likely come back to bite you, but you let Zemo play his games. He’s got a plan, clearly, and you’re happy enough to go along with it. At least someone has one.

Ever since Sam and Bucky got back to the house, they’ve been giving you odd looks, and you can see the judgement in their eyes. You aren’t quite sure if they think you’re too stupid to know yourself and have just been wrapped up in Zemo’s sugary lies, or if they think you’ve switched sides somehow, but either way it’s beginning to get on your nerves. You aren’t a child, and you’re not stupid. You know when someone is lying to you, and you don’t sense mistruths or even manipulation from your Baron.

As Zemo leads you back into the house with Bucky and Sam, the argument starts up again. Sam believes in Karli’s goodness, while Bucky is being more practical. You roll your eyes as you sit beside Sam, and Zemo admits that he knows where the funeral for Donya will be.

“Keep talking.” Bucky snaps, and you breath out a heavy sigh. Like that’ll ever happen.

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo replies simply. You watch as Bucky stands, grabbing Zemo’s glass and tossing it at the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” He asks, and you plant your feet loudly, startling both men.

“Simmer down before I fucking make you.” You snap, while Sam gets up to stop Bucky.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” The leveller head says, drawing a snort from you, “Let me make a call.”

You roll your eyes, holding your hand out for a cup.

“You need to stop antagonising them. I don’t want to have to hurt them, Helmut.”

The arrival of John Walker throws a wrench in things. The new Captain America with everything to prove is not a stable resource, and you want nothing to do with him. As he approaches, all ramped up to 11 like it's his new state of being, you put yourself between him and Zemo.

“This better be an unbelievable explanation-”

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam insists, his gaze flicking to you, and you tilt your head innocently as if you’ve no idea what he means.

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo explains, beginning to move past Walker. John puts a hand on Zemo’s chest, and you grab it before it can make contact, holding onto him tightly.

“Well whe-”

“Awww, ain’t this romantic?” You ask teasingly, giving him a gentle shove out of Zemo’s way. He scowls at you, and you let him go to slip by with your Baron.

“All we know is, it’s a memorial.” Sam continues behind you, and you ignore the argument as Walker tries to ‘reason’ with Sam. Thank God for Lemar, as he seems to be the only thing keeping Walker in line.

“We’ll deal with you later.” Walker states firmly, pointing first to Zemo, and then you.

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo replies, and you walk with him towards the little girl he’d been speaking to about Donya’s funeral. She leads you into a building, and you growl as Walker pushes Zemo, handcuffing him to a metal furnace door. Bucky hooks his arms under your armpits to stop you from fighting back, and you kick your legs out to smack against Walker’s stupid shield, running up his back and flipping over Barnes. He fights to get ahold of you, throwing you to the ground finally when you keep getting loose.

“Hey, you’ve got ten minutes-” Walker shouts after Sam.

“Really?” Zemo asks as he tests his handcuffs. His gaze finds you, checking you’re alright before looking back at John Walker.

“-then we’re going things my way.” The new Captain America finishes, making you roll your eyes.

“Aggressive.” Helmut comments, and you snort, “but I get it.”

You eye the handcuffs, but Zemo shakes his head, and you sigh.

“So, who the fuck is this?” John asks, and Bucky shakes his head.

“She’s none of your fucking business, Walker. Don’t look at her.”

Lemar and John both put their hands up, brows raised as they examine you, and you lean against the furnace door next to your Baron to keep an eye on the situation. Walker is clearly falling apart, staring at his shield like a psychopath, and you catch Lemar looking at you. You raise an eyebrow, then look at Walker and nod towards him. He follows your gaze, but doesn’t say anything.

“Uh-uh. No, no, no, this is a bad idea.” Walker starts, and you let Barnes field this one, knowing it won’t end well. You step closer to Zemo, watching the clearly unstable man with wariness in your eyes. You don’t want to have anything to do with him if you can avoid it. He goes after Sam, Lemar and Bucky at his back, and you rush to follow after giving Zemo a pointed look to take care of himself.

“You’re going to ruin it, Walker, give Sam a fucking chance. It’s like you want blood, you fucking maniac. What kind of Captain America doesn’t believe in peaceful conversation to avoid violence!?”

Your words fall on deaf ears, and you watch Karli run, Bucky close on her heels. You bolt off into the maze of the building, looking for where Karli could have gone, only to jump at a gunshot. You run in that direction, gunshots ringing in your ears, and you pray Zemo’s okay. You enter the room just moments after a shield collides with Zemo’s head, blue liquid and glass sprayed across the floor, and Karli nowhere to be found. You growl so deeply your chest feels like it’s about to come apart, and you’re across the room before you even know it.

“WALKER!”

Your fist nearly meets Walker’s spine, but Bucky grabs it, wrenching you back.

“NO! He could’ve killed him! You’re no Captain America, you fucking monster, I’ll tear you to pieces! Let me at him, Buck, I could kill him right here and solve all your problems. I’m already on the run, what’s one more stain on my name? Let me hurt him, please, come on, let me hurt him!” You shout, worming in Barnes’ grasp, but he’s stronger than you. All you’ve got on him is speed.

“Control your rabid dog.” Walker snaps, and you scream with frustration. Barnes drags you a few feet away, holding you tightly to him while you rage. Walker and Lemar leave, and only then does he let go of you, letting you sink to lift Zemo into your arms. You stand easily with his weight, your face permanently etched into a sneer as you stalk past Sam towards your Baron’s home. Sam follows you, watching as you lay Zemo down on the couch and get a cold towel for his head. When he wakes with a groan of pain, you bring him a drink, covering his eyes before he can open them.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, and you sigh.

“Barnes held me back. I was gonna break his spine.”

“Jesus Christ, kid, what the hell?” Sam asks, and you roll your eyes.

“He deserves worse. He’s a loose fucking cannon and you know it. The title is too much for him - it’s making him insane.” You spit as you stalk out of the room, “I need to wash up. If Walker shows him, tell him I’m going to rip his spine out and strangle him with it.”

Zemo laughs, but Sam scoffs, slamming down into an armchair with a muttered curse about excessive violence.

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

“I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” You hear the tail end of Sam and Bucky’s argument as you exit the bathroom, tossing your bag down as the door slams open from Walker’s kick.

“Alright, that’s it, let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Walker orders as he stalks in with Lemar at his back.

“Hey, now, slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re running in here is your mouth.” Sam retorts calmly, “Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today, and we’ll need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam, huh?” John asks, and you roll your eyes, moving forwards as Zemo circles the room towards you, “Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

You snort as he does just that, cracking your knuckles, only to be interrupted by the timely arrival of the Dora Milaje. Your shoulders relax, and Zemo gives you a quizzical look, but you don’t respond. They might be coming for Zemo, but Walker won’t be able to help himself. He’ll step right into their way, and get his ass kicked. You watch as exactly as predicted, Walker gets himself an asskicking, and you watch with a smile as you share a drink with your Baron. You’re not even slightly surprised when he grabs your hand and drags you into the bathroom behind him, closing and locking the door once you’ve grabbed your bag.

Together, you flee into the sewers, your hand gripping his as you race towards freedom. No matter how much you wanted to kick Walker’s ass, you know that the Dora Milaje will be able to do a better, and more demoralising job. And that’s what you’d prefer, honestly. You want John Walker broken down to his core as he realises that he never deserved the title of Captain America. Truthfully, he was just a placeholder while Sam figured his shit out.

The message you send to Barnes is simple.

‘If you take him from me, I will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, James Buchanan Barnes.’

You discard the burner phone on a table outside of a cafe, running to catch up with Zemo where he waits in a nearby alley.

“They’ll come for me.” Helmut murmurs as he rubs his soapy hands across your stomach, up to cup your breasts, “I can only escape for so long.”

You snort, leaning back into his arms while your massage shampoo into his hair for him.

“They’ll certainly try. There are plenty of places we can hide.” You insist, sighing happily as he nuzzles against your neck. You dip under the running water to rinse yourself off, stealing a kiss from your Baron once the water runs clear. He swaps places with you and you run your hands over him slowly to rinse the soap away. Once the bubbles have been washed away, he presses you into the wall of the shower, and you gasp as he angles himself.

“Okay?” He asks, breathless, and you nod eagerly, spreading your legs a little wider. He pushes inside of you with a sigh, and you grasp at the tiles, eyes rolling back in your head.

“God, you feel so good around me, liebling. I did not… I did not expect this. I did not expect you.” He murmurs, grabbing your hips and rocking into you.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me.” You whisper, letting him pull you back against him so he can steal a kiss, “I won’t lose you, Helmut. I won’t. If they come for you, I’ll destroy them.”

He sighs, holding you tighter, pressing soothing kisses to your neck, “You cannot, schatz. Do not sacrifice yourself for me.”

His next thrust makes you cry out, and he slips a hand between your thighs to stroke across your clit, driving you closer to the edge. It’s been barely any time at all, but you’ve been pent up with emotions, from aborted fights to nearly losing him. He holds you together as you tip over the edge in his arms, his thrusts quickening before you’ve even caught your breath. He strokes your clit firmly, and you find yourself caught in the drag of the tide, unexpectedly rising to your crest again so quickly you find yourself shaking in his arms.

“I can’t!” You gasp, and he chuckles against your neck.

“You can, and you will. Come for me, schatz. Let your Baron make you feel good.”

You claw at the tiles, pinned between the cold of them and the heat of his chest against your back, and your legs shake as he sends you spiralling over the edge into your end, shouting his name into the steam. He grunts against your neck, biting into your shoulder as he buries himself balls deep inside of you to fill you up. Gentle but strong hands clean you up, then guide you out of the shower and into a warm, plush robe. Your Baron guides you into the bedroom, and then into the bed, crawling in behind you to curl up around your back.

“Sleep, liebling. A nap will make things seem clearer when we wake.”

Together with Zemo, you decide to take your time together to hunt down the HYDRA lab you’d been kept in, and the scientists who may have worked there and escaped their due. Finding the lab was simple enough considering you’d escaped it fourteen years ago on foot. It wasn’t in any of HYDRA’s released records, which worries you. How many more facilities do they have hiding? Zemo watches with a smile on his face as you wrench open the door, breaking its seal as if the metal were molten. Not four steps in, you find the bloody bullet buried in the wall that took Imogen’s life, and you hear her screaming in your head for you to keep running as the blood drained rapidly from her body. There’s a stain on the floor, and it taunts you, outlining part of the shape of a body. You find her tucked into a security office only a few doors down, and Zemo has to lead you away, reading the security logs to discover what happened. Normally, she would have been discarded.

According to the logs, after you broke out, they went into a catastrophic failure, and the entire lab was purged with the loss of their only test subject. They didn’t think you’d make your way back to the lab so nothing was actually removed aside from personnel, but they didn’t need the facility so they closed it down and sealed it in case they needed it at a later date. You hunt through their files with your Baron, comparing them to the records of HYDRA operatives who’ve been found, until you find only one name that hasn’t been tagged.

Vanya Nikitin, one of the lead scientists behind your project. You remember him. He’s the one who hit you after you wounded their precious Winter Soldier. You stare at his picture, chest heaving as you find yourself lost in memories. How he used to touch your face and chest when you were strapped down and losing consciousness. How he stroked your stomach before he unleashed the Winter Soldier on you. How he promised you’d birth an army for them.

“Schatz.”

You jerk out of your spiral and glance at Helmut, letting him guide you over to look at the documents he’s digging through. He gestures to a paper and you muddle your way through it, your Russian rusty at best.

Fertility rates… show remarkable increase.

Your Baron’s hand strokes up and down your spine soothingly, and you crumple the page in your hand, “I can take the morning after pill.”

“You could.” Helmut agreed, sliding his arms around your waist, soothing you with his heat against your back, “For once, liebling, the choice is yours. I am happy to let you make this decision - I will support you if you want a child, and I will support you if you do not. You can have whatever you want.”

You nod, resting against him for a moment and letting yourself breathe. Something about being here with him is soothing. Like you’ve reclaimed the space from such evil, and it is once more just a simple laboratory instead of a place in which you were tormented.

“I can, can’t I? I mean, who the fuck is gonna stop me?”

Helmut smiles against your skin, and you only break away from him a few moments later to begin packing up the documents. Your phone dings, and you pull it out, looking at the screen with a raised eyebrow. You don’t know how the fuck you have reception in here, but it appears you do. The message makes you smile, and you show Helmut, stealing a kiss from him with happiness bubbling in your gut like champagne.

You’re emptying out a filing cabinet when you stumble across gold, pulling out Nikitin’s file and tossing it down on the desk in front of you, open to his personal information.

“Hey, Helmut, how do you feel about hunting for squid?”

“Whatever you like, schatz. I will give you whatever you like.”

“Breaking news. We’ve got a report from the Czech Republic - Two dead and thankfully none injured after an explosion at what appears to be a former HYDRA facility. Captain America Sam Wilson expresses his profound regret at the loss of Baron Helmut Zemo, former Sokovian royalty and the man who once tried to bring the Avengers to ruin. According to Wilson, the other deceased was a woman named Y/N Y/L/N, a victim of a HYDRA plot to create an army of super soldiers by way of forced impregnation of two victims of the super soldier serum. It appears that the two were attempting to destroy the facility in which she had been forcefully confined from the age of eight after she was kidnapped, and were caught when the detonation went off early.

James Buchanan Barnes and Sam Wilson will be holding a vigil for HYDRA victims in Y/L/N’s honour tonight outside of City Hall. A second vigil will be held at the Sokovian Memorial in three days time in honour of the late Baron and his family, to honour all the Sokovian lives lost, and those who no longer have a home.”

#baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo

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gingiesworld · 8 months

Text

Drunken Confessions

Requested : I was thinking about yn, they are bucky's sibling, they are a super soldier too, and they were very serious, doesn't smile and that thing, so when there was a party, Thor decided to give them some of his famous licour wanting to have some emotions from them. When they drink some, they noticed they were feeling different, without problems and everything, so the avengers decided to watch them to see what will happen. Yn wanted to dance with (Nat or Wanda, don't care, you can choose) but they were dancing, yn didn't know they were dancing with their crush. And they told her about it. When they finished, they decided to sleep and when they woke up next morning, they didn't remember anything about last night so they were confused when their friends were laughing when they asked yn about what happened at night.

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Barnes Reader

Warnings : Alcohol use. Thor's famous spirit ;) Fluff

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes twin was also taken by Hydra on a mission during WW2. Of course Bucky only found out during his own battle alongside Steve. Neither of them were able to find them, not until years later. The sixth cryo chamber in Siberia, hidden beneath the death squad that Hydra had created and Zemo had killed.

"Come on Y/N, this will be fun." Bucky patted their back as they walked through the halls of the compound.

"I miss being a ruthless killer sometimes." They mumbled as Bucky laughed. "I hate these kinds of things. I always have. You know this." They pointed their finger at him as he just smirked.

"Besides, Wanda will be there." He teased them as they mumbled a quick shut up before they disappeared to the bar. Getting a glass on old Glennfiddich, their fathers favourite whiskey, one they used to steal on multiple occasions.

"Why are they over there?" Thor questioned as everyone gathered around to watch as Y/N ordered shot after shot.

"They have never been a party person, even before the war." Bucky admitted.

"I have an idea." Thor beamed as he waved his flask.

"This could be fun." Tony smirked as the others nodded as Thor headed over to Y/N, taking a seat beside them.

"How are you settling in Y/N?" He questioned as Y/N nodded.

"Good I guess, although it has been a few months since I have been here." They replied as Thor nodded

"Well I have been off world quite a lot." He told them. "I did bring back some 1000 year old ale with me. Much stronger than that of your mortals."

"Well, give me some." They held their empty glass out to him, watching him as he poured a small amount. "Come on now, more." Thor nodded as he almost filled the glass, smirking as Y/N downed it in one.

"How was it?" He asked them as they hissed.

"Good. Definitely has a bite to it." They told him as their eyes landed on Wanda talking with the girls.

"You like her." Thor stated as Y/N looked at him confused. "You look at her the way I look at Jane."

"Yeah, but she wouldn't ever go for me." Y/N shrugged, turning back and asking the bartender for a refill.

"You won't know unless you try." He nudged them as they finished their drink. Starting to feel the affects of the Asgardian Ale. "Ask her to dance."

"I don't know how to dance to this music." Y/N told him. "I am from the 40's after all."

"Just ask her." With that, Thor left to whisper something in Bucky's ear. As soon as The Mills Brothers came through the speakers, Y/N stood up smiling as they decided to approach Wanda. Dragging her away as the girls laughed.

"What are we doing?" Wanda laughed as Y/N started to dance with her.

"Dancing. I wanted to dance and you seem like a good dance partner." They told her as they moved to the beat.

"I can't dance Y/N." Wanda laughed as they dipped her.

"I just need to make her jealous." They whispered in her ear as Wanda smirked, smelling the ale on their breath.

"Who?" She questioned as Y/N looked at her.

"Wanda." They told her, Wanda held back a blush as they danced. "I think she got the message."

"What?" Wanda questioned as Y/N looked around.

"She's gone." They slurred as they turned to face her. Their eyes widening as they realised in their drunken stupor. "Did I tell you?" They questioned as Wanda nodded with a smirk.

"You wanted to make me jealous by dancing with me." She summed up as they stumbled back.

"I uh. I need to." They ran out of the room as everyone laughed. Bucky recording the whole thing.

The next morning rolled around with Y/N groaning as they entered the kitchen to a bunch of smirking Avengers.

"I am going to kill Thor." They mumbled when they approached the coffee. "There's no coffee. Why is the coffee always the first to go." They murmured as everyone watched them with amusing smirks. "What happened last night?" Y/N asked as they had finally made a fresh pot.

"You do realise that is a bowl?" Nat teased them.

"Yes Natasha. I do." They told her. "A single cup just isn't big enough for me right now. Be thankful it isn't the pan that Wanda cooks her favourite Paprikash in."

"You wanted to make me jealous by dancing with me." They heard Wanda's voice through a speaker.

"Please tell me that was a dream." They placed their head down on the cool surface of the counter. "I thought it was a dream."

"Nope. It was very entertaining." Bucky teased them as Wanda approached them, lifting their head up.

"It could have worked if their was another me." She kissed their cheek before she walked away. Leaving Y/N a blushing mess.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

Was Ich Liebe | Helmut Zemo x gn!reader

summary: when Sam and Bucky ask you and Frank to look after Zemo for a while, you end up feeling something that you never would have expected before.

tws: swearing, smoking, mentions of violence, jealous, possession, drinking

word count: 5433

You and Frank had been living together for years, since before his Punisher years, as he couldn't afford a place on his own, and neither could you; as close friends, family really, it only made sense that the two of you would end up living together somehow. You patched his wounds, you hid him away from everyone who was chasing after him, you kept him a secret when he needed to be; you were his best friend, and at times, it felt a lot like you were his only friend. You enjoyed it, though, being able to spend so much time with him, being able to act like your best friend wasn't also one of the most wanted men on the planet; you were at peace, and whenever Frank snuck in, he felt much the same.

Nobody ever bothered you, nobody came asking for favours, nobody ever disturbed or shattered that peace; Frank made damn sure of that, keeping you and your home together far, far away from his work as the Punisher, the more distance he could make, the better.

It felt redundant to say, but when Frank trudged in with his hand around a guy in a purple mask's fur coat collar, you were more than surprised.

"Frank, what the fuck?"

He shrugged, roughly removing the guy's mask. He didn't miss the way you looked at the stranger. He rolled his eyes. "This here's Zemo."

Zemo went to extend his hand, but Frank slapped it away and glared at him.

"Right," you couldn't take your eyes off of the stranger. "And why's he in our home, exactly?"

Frank sighed, running a hand down his face as he grumbled. "I owe Sam Wilson a favour… he asked if I'd make sure this little shit doesn't go anywhere."

"Oh, great," you muttered. "So now we're in debt to Captain America himself? Well done, Frankie."

"Blame yourself," he growled, shoving the stranger aside. "You were the one that broke his pool table."

"I said I'd pay for it," you pointed out. "Not that I'd babysit a…" you turned to the stranger with a raised brow, "what are you?"

"A Baron," he replied.

You turned back to Frank. "Not that I'd babysit a Baron."

"He's got a rap sheet half a mile long," Frank hissed. "He's lucky he's still breathing."

You shook your head, gesturing for him to leave. "Go make a cup of coffee."

Chuckling, Frank shot you a smile as he dared to move away. "Yessir."

"You bicker like you're siblings," the stranger said.

But you scoffed as you took a seat on the sofa and sighed. "Who are you?"

"Baron Helmut Zemo," he didn't dare to move across the room to shake your hand, not with the Punisher around. "And who are you, gutaussehend?"

"I'm the one that won't rough you up," you laughed softly. "(y/n)."

"A pleasure," he nodded curtly. "Really."

You dared to smile at him. "The feeling's mutual."

Zemo hung his head as he dared to crack a small smile, chewing at the inside of his lip; he was about to say something when Frank came trudging back in, passing you a cup of coffee as he sat beside you.

"Don't listen to a goddamn word he says," Frank rumbled. "I got told he's a great manipulator."

You shrugged your friend off with a shake of your head. "Would you quit complaining?"

"He's responsible for all that bullshit between the Avengers," Frank muttered. "I got every goddamn right to complain… dragging me into their bullshit like this."

"In my defense-"

"Shut it," Frank hissed, glaring at Zemo.

The Winter Soldier had been one thing. Dealing with Sam and Bucky had been one thing. But Frank? Frank really did scare Zemo; word of the Punisher, what he did to people who deserved it, it scared even Zemo. Nobody fucked with the Punisher, and there was a damn good reason for that. Frank wasn't like the others, he wasn't like Sam or Bucky - Frank would kill. From the stories, it sounded like he was happy to do it, too.

"You're scaring him," you said gently.

"Good," Frank scoffed. "I should fucking hope so."

You sighed, shaking your head as you turned to Zemo. "Did he at least grab stuff for you to wear other than that?"

"Yes," Zemo answered with a curt nod.

"Where'd he chuck it?" You set your coffee aside and slapped a hand over Frank's mouth.

"In the car boot," Zemo wanted to smile at the fact that you had so casually covered your friend's mouth, he wanted to laugh when the big bad Punisher dared to lick your palm, making you groan and grumble in disgust.

"You're so fucking disgusting, sometimes," you got up, the sound of Frank's laughter following you as you went and grabbed the car keys. "I'll go get your things, Zemo… don't worry about Frank, he won't bite."

The second the door closed behind you, Frank crossed the room, pinning Zemo to the chair with his hand on his shoulder, his voice low and coarse - the same one he used when talking to the cunts he killed.

"You so much as even fucking look at (y/n), and I'll rip your eyes out," he threatened. "One wrong move, Zemo, that's all it takes and then… one batch, two batch, penny and dime."

Zemo could only nod slowly, he knew what Frank was capable of, everyone did, and he didn't quite fancy being on the receiving end of it. He didn't want to know what Frank would do, from the stories, he knew that the man was capable of great brutality and great graphic gore. He didn't want to find out if they were true.

Frank moved away again, taking his seat on the sofa once more, his jaw clenched as he picked up the television remote and turned it on; it was already playing one of your playlists, this one happened to have a little bit everything - some Tina Turner, some Sabaton, some Trivium, some Slayer, some Metallica, some ABBA. Frank turned the volume up a little, finally relaxing as he leaned back against the soft cushions. Zemo didn't dare to move - not until the door opened and you held up a bag.

"This the one?"

"Yes, thank you," he nodded.

"Come with me," you gestured for him to follow, and he did so with little hesitation. You lead him to the bedrooms. "Now, there's only two - so, uh, would you rather sleep in the same room as the guy who might rip your head off in the middle of the night, or would you rather be woken up by Rammstein at three in the morning?"

"Rammstein sounds… better," he shrugged, entering the room with you. He took a look around and frowned a little; it was nowhere near as bad as the cell in Berlin, but it wasn't exactly the luxury he had known for most of his life, either.

"You can use that cupboard," you pointed over to it. "Unpack your shit, make yourself comfy."

Zemo gently grabbed your wrist when you turned around, pulling you close as he dared to smile, his voice soft and quiet. "Thank you, (y/n)."

You could feel your heartbeat pick up a little, a certain thudding thunder coming to the side of your throat as you looked into those big brown beautiful eyes. "No need to thank me, just… get as comfy as you can."

He dared to let you go, clearing his throat as he turned to his bag and started to take out his things; you sighed as you headed downstairs, finally able to confront Frank.

"You didn't fucking tell me he was fit as fuck, you ass!"

Frank rolled his eyes. "I knew you thought he was your type the second you saw his face."

"Frank, this ain't funny," you growled. "How the fuck are we meant to put him up until Sam and Bucky can grab him, if I'm wanting to fuck him?"

"Easy," Frank shrugged. "Just don't."

You folded your arms across your chest, glaring at him as you clenched your jaw. "Don't you dare hurt him."

"Now," he tutted, raising a brow as he tilted his head a little to the side. "Why would I do that?"

"You said he's got a rap sheet half a mile long," you started, "in your books, he deserves it."

"You ain't wrong," he held up his hands. "But I ain't gonna hurt him. I'm smart enough to know not to piss Captain America off."

"You better be," you warned with a huff. "You really fucking better be."

══════════════════

Frank left that same evening, abandoning you and trusting that you wouldn't do anything stupid, he had work to do, and he knew it would be a while; he had to go two States over and get through a shit tonne of forest, he wasn't going to be less than twelve hours. But he left you in charge of Zemo, hoping that you wouldn't do anything stupid. Really, really hoping.

It was around five minutes after he had left that you had decided to go to bed, with Zemo in the bathroom, you stripped off and yanked a pair of fluffy pyjama bottoms on before crawling into bed; unfortunately for him, Zemo had to have the chair next to the bed instead of an actual mattress. But he had said that it would be fine. You hoped so.

You yanked at the thin blanket, pulling it over you as you rolled onto your side and started to scroll through your phone; you didn't look up when he walked in, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, but then he paused for a moment to look at you. He cleared his throat as he sat down on the chair, pulling a red blanket across his lap as he met your gaze with a soft smile.

"I don't think your friend would like us being so physically close."

"No, but he'll get over it," you chuckled, putting your phone down and smiling back at him. "Y'know, I think there's room enough in this bed for us both… might save your back and your neck a little bit to sleep on an actual mattress."

Zemo bit at the inside of his lip as he let out a shaky breath, not even audible. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," you nodded, moving over to make space for him. "Trust me, that chair ain't fit for sleeping in."

“As long as you’re sure,” he muttered, daring to slip beneath the blanket beside you, careful not to touch you - he wouldn’t dream of such a thing, not unless if you asked him to.

You cleared your throat, getting a little closer until your head was on his chest, and you grabbed the remote for the television, quickly putting on ‘Hostel’ before you dared to relax again.

Zemo wasn’t sure about the film to begin with, if he was honest, as he was never entirely all that keen on films of such a graphic nature, but when he stole a look at you and saw a look in your eyes that could not be mistaken for anything except passion, he started to see it in a different light; he started to respect the film a little more, just because you were so keen on it. It was around halfway through the film when he dared to speak up at last.

“How long is Mister Castle usually gone for?”

“Anywhere from an hour to all night,” you replied quietly, your gaze never leaving the television, “sometimes, he can be gone for days.”

“Does he not worry about you?” Zemo asked with a little bit of genuine concern.

“Sure he does,” you muttered. “But Frank’s known me for a Hell of a long time. He knows I’m not helpless - plus, he keeps his work away.”

He nodded, biting at the inside of his lip again, unable to admit that if he was as close to you as Frank was, he would have been worried sick about so much as stepping out of the house; with a job like Frank’s, it would be more than difficult not to worry about loved ones.

“Besides,” you yawned, stretching and groaning a little. “Uncle Logan is only down the street.”

“Logan?”

“Yeah, Logan,” you nodded. “He was a friend of my family growing up - taught me how to handle myself in a fight. Between him and Frank, there’s really nothing to worry about.”

Zemo had heard that name somewhere before, Sam had mentioned it when talking about a school for gifted youngsters, he was sure that Sam had said there was someone called Logan there - “grumpy old man with can openers between his knuckles,” - but surely it wasn’t the same man; Logan was a very popular name, there was no way it could have been the same man at all.

“But you’re not a-”

“A superhero?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “No. I just know how to fight… and my best friend happens to be one of the most dangerous men to ever exist.”

══════════════════

You weren’t sure when it happened, between the end of ‘Hostel’ and the start of ‘Cabin Fever’, you had fallen asleep somewhere along the lines, your head on Zemo’s chest, one arm across his stomach and the other under his back, your leg thrown over his hip; somewhere along the lines, you had fallen asleep together, but when you woke in the morning, it wasn’t because Frank had done his usual - kicked the end of your bed and asked what you wanted for breakfast - it was because there was an unusual smell coming from the kitchen. It smelled like someone was cooking, but it couldn’t have been; you and Frank rarely had time or money to actually cook meals, and if you ever did, you usually reserved them for special occasions - birthdays, holidays, to celebrate good news - and always reserved it for evening meals.

You were confused, heading downstairs as you rubbed your eyes, immediately going to the fridge first and foremost and pulling out a can of Red Bull; you cracked it open and took a swig before you dared to look at the state of the kitchen.

Zemo, still wearing just his boxers, a tea-towel thrown over his shoulder, turned to you with a smile. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I would make breakfast - as thanks for last night.”

You scratched the back of your neck, furrowing your brows as you tilted your head to the side, slowly nodding. “We don’t usually cook ‘round here, y’know.”

“I can tell,” he said. “Go sit down, it won’t be long.”

“Long enough for me to have a quick smoke?”

“I suppose.”

══════════════════

It went on like that for a while, at least a fair few weeks; you and Zemo would sleep in your bed all cuddled up to one another at night, in the morning he would make breakfast for you and sometimes Frank - when he was around - and then make another meal for dinner just for you and him and a final one for tea - which usually Frank also attended. During the day, you would show Zemo your favourite films and let him show you some of his, you would listen to music together and occasionally dance around, you would talk at length; every now and then, you would even ask Zemo for his help in deciding what to wear for the day, something he was all too happy to help with. He didn’t think it was worth telling you, but he had started to pay your rent for you; when you were busy with something and had your back turned, he would sneak off and pay the landlord - he knew how much living with Frank meant to you, he knew how desperate you both were, and he wanted to at least give his own back in exchange for Frank not gouging his eyes out every time he looked at you. He paid about a year’s worth of rent by the end of the month.

You were getting closer, though, starting to cuddle up on the sofa together whilst watching films, getting so close that you could feel his breath on your features when he pulled you in close whilst dancing; pressing your forehead against his back when he was chopping something up whilst preparing dinner, your arms around his waist; sitting on the counter and talking to him about anything and everything while he was putting a meal together; you stopped eating at opposite ends of the table, preferring to sit right next to one another instead, your knee pressed against his as he leaned into you a little more.

You were getting closer by the day, and you were starting to realise - you didn’t want Zemo to leave. You wanted him to stay, you wanted to know what his kiss tasted like and what his hands would feel like holding yours, you wanted to know what it would be like to go on actual dates with him, you wanted to know what it would be like to belong to him. You knew, though, that such a thing could never happen; if you had been living alone, then it would have been possible, but Frank was not keen on Zemo - even if he did quietly admit to you that he did enjoy the meals that Zemo cooked for you both. So, you went to the one person you knew you could talk to about it: Uncle Logan.

══════════════════

Logan came over on a day where Zemo was in the living room reading, and Frank was off getting the weekly shop; he went down to the bottom of the garden with you, rolled two cigarettes, and gave one to you before lighting his own.

“Alright, what have you done now?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a drag from your cigarette. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Yet,” Logan pointed out, noticing the way you were a little on-edge. “What is it?”

“It’s Zemo,” you muttered, licking your lips and taking a deep breath as you looked at him. “I think… shit, Logan, I think I’ve fallen for him.”

He dared to laugh a little, running a hand through his hair as he nodded. “Look, kid, you want my advice? Just be honest.”

“This coming from the guy who told Magneto and Professor X to fuck themselves,” you hummed. “Honesty isn’t the issue here.”

“Then what is?”

“Frank,” you muttered, sighing heavily. “He fucking hates Zemo and-”

“You and Frank have been friends since you were babies,” Logan huffed. “He might talk and act tough, but you know he’s a softie.”

You raised a brow as you looked him in the eyes, a smile coming to your lips. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Logan rolled his eyes at you as he scoffed. “I helped raise you, (y/n). I know how close you and Frank are, but if you like this guy, your best bet is just to be honest about it, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded. “Thanks, Uncle Logan.”

“Does he know?” He asked. “I mean, this guy hates super-soldiers, right?”

“Right… I didn’t say anything about you, though,” you reassured. “You’re not a super-soldier, anyway. The only thing them cunts altered was your bones.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna piss of the guy who managed to fuck over the Avengers.”

“Didn’t you say that they were the most stupid, idiotic, selfish bastards to exist?”

“Yeah, and I stand by that.”

“I think you should be worried more about him becoming your new best friend, if that’s the case.”

══════════════════

When Logan left, you knew that there was only one thing you had to do, you knew what you had to do and how to do it, but when you saw Zemo in the living room, his legs spread as he read one of your books - it looked a lot like American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis - you weren’t sure if you could go through with it; doubt started to bubble up in your stomach, making it churn as your throat began to feel dry and coarse, you caught your bottom lip between your teeth as you let out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly. Logan told you to just be honest. You dared to move closer, and when Zemo lifted his arms up so that you could sit on his lap, you did so with a quiet eagerness, letting him put an arm around your back whilst leaning it on the sofa’s arm, holding the book in his free hand as he continued to read for a moment; it didn’t exactly take him long to realise that something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“Zemo, what if…” you swallowed thickly, able to feel your heart thud against your chest. “What if I told you I… felt things for you?”

“I would tell you that if your feelings are romantic, then they’re reciprocated,” he admitted with a soft chuckle. “Why?”

“They’re… they’re reciprocated?” You asked quietly, biting at the inside of your top lip.

“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “Over the short time we’ve known each other, (Y/n), I have to admit - I’m very fond of you.”

“So, if I uh, if I asked you out…” you took in another deep breath. “You would say yes?”

“I would,” he nodded again. “Would you flip the page for me, please, mein Bärchen?”

You did as he asked, leaning into him a little more so that your shoulder was pressed into him, letting him rest his chin on top of your head as he hummed softly; you didn’t need a big romantic gesture to know that it was official now, you didn’t need some big dramatic gesture or some long and heated kiss to know. All you needed was the way he held you so close, the way he gently asked for you to turn the page of the book he was borrowing from you.

Now you just had to figure out how to tell Frank.

══════════════════

You didn’t want to tell him right away, as you knew that he would need time and space to process everything, which was why you waited until he announced that he was going away for a while; on the trail of someone who had done things that even Frank wouldn’t mention, but because they were halfway across the goddamn country and then some, Frank had told you that he would be gone for at least a week or two - depending on how slippery and sly the asshole was. It was damn near perfect, until Sam came wandering in while Frank was getting ready to leave.

Frank was out back sorting out what he would need for his little trip, which was where Sam went first and foremost, tapping the Punisher on the shoulder and clearing his throat.

“How’s it going?” Sam asked, letting himself take one of Frank’s beers and cracking it open. He took a quick swig.

Frank sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the workbench and folded his arms across his chest, shrugging. “It ain’t bad, but…”

“But?”

“(y/n) and Zemo are friends now,” Frank chuckled, shaking his head. “They’re actually friends. He’s even managed to befriend Logan.”

“Logan?” Sam let out a whistle as he shook his head. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “It ain’t all that bad, though. I mean, he cooks, and he’s pretty damn good at it, too. He’s been behaving himself, too, thankfully.”

“He better be,” Sam huffed. “Do you need any help with anything? Least I could do for you agreeing to babysit.”

Frank shook his head, smiling at Sam for a moment. “We’re good - besides, we owed you for the pool table.”

Laughing softly, Sam shook his head. “Don’t worry about it… seriously, though, if you need anything, you know where I am.”

“I know, thank you,” Frank nodded, sighing as he made a move to pack up a few more boxes of ammunition. “Y’know, I always did prefer you over the other guy. I’m glad it was you that picked up the shield.”

“Thank you,” Sam smiled back, clapping Frank on the shoulder. “Where are they?”

“Front room,” Frank shrugged. “C’mon, I need something to eat.”

Following Frank inside, Sam couldn’t help but to let out a noise when he looked into the living room; on the sofa, you and Zemo were cuddled up, your lips pressed to his neck and your arm slung over him, the other one beneath your head to give you a little comfort, your leg over his waist as he held onto you tightly. Sam almost couldn’t believe it, but when Frank came to see, he simply shrugged.

“They do it all the time,” he explained, “it’s normal.”

“Normal?” Sam grumbled. “Frank, they’re cuddling.”

“Yeah, for those two, it’s normal,” Frank replied, “shit, it’s nothing me and (y/n) don’t do.”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck as he shook his head, taking a step into the living room and knocking gently on the doorframe; within an instant, you and Zemo perked up, lazily waving at him.

“Ah, Sam,” Zemo smiled. “I wondered when you would come to visit.”

“I’ve seen enough,” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Frank, do you need help getting everything loaded up?”

“Yeah, I could use a hand,” Frank agreed with a shrug. “Car’s out front.”

“Let’s go,” Sam agreed. “You can drop me off on the way, right?”

“Right.”

You waited for the two to leave before you turned to Zemo, biting your lip as you tried not to laugh. “I don’t think they’re happy, y’know.”

“I don’t think they are,” he agreed with a shake of his head, but then he turned to you, and ever so gently, pressed a kiss to your lips. “But at least we’ll be alone for a while, won’t we?”

══════════════════

The first couple of days, everything was fine between you and Zemo; you did everything together as a romantic couple, no longer feeling the need to ever hide anything - not your relationship, not your care for each other. It got to the point where one night, while you were singing and dancing around in the kitchen, probably keeping the entire neighbourhood awake, you stopped - you pulled out your phone, encouraging Zemo to take a picture with you; he was quite eager to do it, even taking a few of him kissing you, his hand on your jaw to keep you close while he took the phone in his other hand and used it to snap the pictures. You debated posting it for a little while, too distracted by the way he held you and how he kissed you, up until his phone rang.

“It’s Frank,” he muttered, handing the phone to you and running a hand through his hair. “Should I answer it?”

“I’ll do it,” you shrugged, clicking the answer button and putting the phone on speaker, leaving it on the closest counter. “Frank, why aren’t you calling my phone?”

“Zemo’s number was at the top,” came the crackly and quiet reply, “how are you doing? Is he behaving?”

Zemo stood beside you, gently coaxing you closer, his hands on the waistband of your jeans as he kept you close, your back against his chest; he tilted his head a little to the side, starting to kiss at your neck gently, forcing you to stifle a laugh and to slap at his wrist.

“Yeah, he’s behaving,” you replied, “we had Logan swing by the other day - didn’t he send you the picture?”

“The one of you two sound asleep out back? Yeah, I saw it.”

"See?" You chuckled, biting down on your bottom lip when Zemo started to gently bite and suck at your neck. "He's behaving."

Zemo grabbed your phone when you nodded at him to let him know he could, going onto your social media and pulling up the picture of you and him; he dared to post it with the caption was ich liebe.

"Yeah, alright," Frank hummed. "Look, I ain't sure when I'll be home."

"What do you mean?" Your voice cracked a little with worry.

"This one's tough," he explained, "slips away every time we come close… it's gonna take a while to catch 'em."

"Oh," you sighed, relief flooding your voice. "So it's not because you're hurt?"

"Aside from a few stinging nettles, I'm fine," he laughed softly. But then there was a vibration sound, and he growled lowly.

"What?" You asked.

"Logan just texted me," he explained, "it's from your social."

"Yeah?" You mused, turning around and letting Zemo pin you against the counter, his hands bracing it tightly as he pressed up against you, welcoming the feeling of one hand in his hair, the other on his jaw. "What'd he say?"

"There's a fucking picture of you," Frank started, "you and Zemo. What the fuck? Are you two-"

"Come on, mein Bärchen, hurry up," Zemo growled, just loud enough for the phone's speakers to pick it up. "I want to kiss you again."

Frank's voice got louder as he repeated the question, "hey, what the fuck?"

Your eyes went wide as you kept your eyes on Zemo, silence following for a minute before you cleared your throat and dared to answer, "don't be mad."

"(y/n), what the fuck?" Frank almost shouted. "You're dating him?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, hanging your head and pressing it against Zemo, welcoming the feeling of his arms around you tightly. "Yeah, we've… we've been doing it for a while…"

"Jesus Christ!" Frank spat. "Y'know what? We'll talk about this when we get back… Jesus Christ…"

══════════════════

It was painful, waiting for Frank to get back home, but the days and nights that you spent with Zemo more than made up for it; the nights cuddled up watching films, the days sat with him as he read, the afternoons lounging in the garden together. It more than made up for the increasing anxiety over how Frank would react when he got home; but when he did, he was… at peace with it. He stopped being so intimidating and aggressive towards Zemo, he started to laugh and joke with him, he started to open up a little; to say the least, you were so glad of that - your best friend and your boyfriend finally getting along. It was all too good to be true.

And when you, Zemo and Frank met up with Matt Murdock at a local pub, suddenly reality hit.

Matt was always flirtatious with you, he always turned on the charm, and he didn't seem to realise that you and Zemo were actually a couple.

"You smell really good tonight, (y/n)," Matt smiled. "Did you switch from your usual stuff?"

"I did, yeah," you confirmed. "You noticed?"

"I always notice when it comes to you," he replied, chuckling softly. "I bet you look really good, too."

"Excuse me," Zemo cleared his throat as he leaned his forearms on the table and hunched over a little. "I don't like it when you flirt with my partner, Mister Murdock."

Matt tilted his head to the side, the pub lights shining on his red glasses. "Sorry? Who are you?"

"Baron Helmut Zemo," he growled, shaking his head. "(y/n)'s boyfriend."

Matt nodded slowly, daring to laugh a little. "My bad. I didn't realise."

"C'mon, it's just a bit of fun," you shrugged. "Right, Matt?"

"Yeah," he leaned back. "It's just fun."

But Zemo didn't like that, and by the time that you were walking home, leaving Frank and Matt to talk business, he was getting rather possessive; you welcomed it when he pulled you into an alleyway, pinning you between cold bricks and his body, his hands either side of your face as he kissed you harshly, enough to make you moan against him, burying a hand in his hair as the other gripped the front of his shirt to try and pull him closer.

"You're mine," Zemo growled against your lips. "Aren't you?"

"All yours," you panted out, desperate and needy for him; his touch, his kiss, anything. "Only yours, Zemo."

"Good," he praised quietly. "Say it again for me, please?"

"I'm all yours and only yours," you said softly, pressing your forehead against his. "I love you."

"I love you, too, mein Bärchen," he whispered, backing off enough to let you crush yourself against his side. "Shall we go home?"

"Yes."

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