#zemo x f!reader

[nocapesdahling]

Life Eternal

Helmut Zemo x F! Reader

My Masterlist

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

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

Rating: M (18+, Minors DNI please)

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

Word Count: 9.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

While you deliberated, he continued to watch you patiently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasped, “Hel…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

You had taken too long already.

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

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

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

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

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

He was so dramatic and you loved it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And your wife?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And he’s your Captain America?”

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

Sam sighed, “Here we go again.”

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback:

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

You closed yours with a snap and placed it down.

“My Hel.”

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

“Yes.” His voice was giddy with anticipation.

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

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

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

End Flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Masterlist

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

[myfictionaldreams]

😈Kinktober Masterlist 2022

Better late than never, am I right? Hello my dears, welcome to my first ever Kinktober and only a month late!

I hope you enjoy them as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. Warnings will be included in each fic, so please read these before proceeding.

main masterlists // AO3

Day 1: Hair pulling ~ Eddie Munson x f!reader

Day 2: Mommy kink ~ Steven Grant x f!reader

Day 3: Double penetration ~ Steve / Bucky x f!reader

Day 4: Begging ~ Frank Castle x f!reader

Day 5: Clothed sex ~ Loki x f!reader

Day 6: Menstruation ~ Bucky x f!reader

Day 7: Milking ~ James Potter x f!reader

Day 8: Fucking Machines ~ Helmut Zemo x f!reader

Day 9: Anal Sex ~ Tony Stark x f!reader

Day 10: Overstimulation ~ Lee Bodecker x f!reader

Day 11: Sensory Deprivation ~ Jake Lockley x f!reader

Day 12: Ruined Orgasm ~ Mafia! Steve Rogers x f!reader

Day 13: Fisting ~ Sirius Black x f!reader

Day 14: Orgasm Denial/Delay ~ Remus Lupin x f!reader

Day 15: Begging ~ Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Day 16: First Time ~ Steven Grant x f!reader

Day 17: Magic ~ Draco Malfoy x f!reader

Day 18: Cockwarming ~ Professor Remus Lupin x f!reader

Day 19: Dacryphilia ~ Eddie Munson x f!reader

Day 20: Breeding ~ Frank Castle x f!reader

Day 21: Praise Kink ~ Marc Spector x f!reader

Day 22: Size Difference ~ James / Sirius x f!reader

Day 23: Hate Fucking ~ Helmut Zemo x f!reader

Day 24: Choking ~ Steve / Bucky x f!reader

Day 25: Face Sitting ~ Eddie Munson x f!reader

Day 26: Somnophilia ~ Lee Bodecker x f!reader

Day 27: Keeping Quiet ~ Draco Malfoy x f!reader

Day 28: Car Sex ~ Jake Lockley x f!reader

Day 29: Aftercare ~ The marauders x f!reader

Day 30: Squirting ~ Steve Rogers x f!reader

Day 31: Voyeurism/Exhibitionist~ Remus + Sirius/James x f!reader 

#kinktober #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #marauders smut #poly!marauders #james potter smut #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #lee bodecker smut #helmut smut #hp smut #marvel smut #stranger things smut #steven grant smut #jake lockley smut #marc spector smut #draco malfoy smut #loki smut #frank castle smut

[eddiemuonson]

good partner

Summary: You get a call from Sam asking to help him and Bucky find the Super Soldiers, and get Zemo out of prison. You're still not done with your mission, but the former Winter Soldier doesn't like the idea of you around. This is mostly based on episode 4 of the show, "The Whole World is Watching". I wanted to write something light but you can request a smut.

Warning: Angst, mentions of The Winter Soldier, fluff | Word count: 4k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

A loud thud echoed through the loft as Zemo hit his back against the hard floor. You stomped your foot on his chest and heard him grunt against gritted teeth.

"I'm in this case as well. You're just a rat who got lucky from getting out of a cell" You spat out. Both Sam and Bucky trying hard not to snort.

The baron still kept his gaze at you, holding your foot so tight you almost stumbled. He got up on his foot and wrapped a hand around your bicep.

"Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage. I can't trust you" He locked his eyes on yours and squeezed his fingers on your skin.

You let out a dry scoff. They should've let him die in that prison. Behind your back, Sam was about to step in. Zemo had shifted his demeanor to a cold look. "You let them do it. Stay out of it".

"And who are you to say shit about what I should or should not do?" Raising your voice, he didn't flinch.

The man pointed a finger at you as a warning, still holding his damn tea cup. Only a slight second later, Bucky shattered the glass against the wall and pulled him by his collar.

"You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?" The soldier asked him. He tightened his metal wrist and you could see his shoulder grow wide.

Sam stood next to him, resting a hand on his forearm. "Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing".

Bucky still had him in his grip. Zemo didn't hold any expression, otherwise. It was infuriating. "You want some cherry blossom tea?"

You watched as the taller man twisted his collar. "You fucking touch her again, I'll break your neck". He shoved the baron backward and left the living room.

You were surprised, to say the least. Bucky was annoyed you were on this mission with them. He thought you were actually missing a few points and messing with their plan.

But much to his dismay, Sam agreed to have you on board and didn't complain about your work. Said his partner was just being grumpy.

The former Winter Soldier was leaning against the countertop, his hands gripping tightly against the edge. You offered a glass of water, which he denied.

The Falcon was somewhere else making a call, which left you alone with an irritated soldier and a trash bag of an ex-prisoner.

"Don't let him get through your head" You whispered, standing close to Bucky. He didn't look back at you. "It's what he likes to do. Ever since the last time you engaged".

He gulped harshly, it was back when he was being accused of planning a bombing in Vienna. And then, when he was held hostage in Germany, where Zemo broke him and brought Winter Soldier back.

"I don't like him either. But it's easier if we just ignore" You tried to humor him, but he still wasn't in the mood for interaction.

"Would that work if I ignored you as well?" Bucky lifted his eyes to meet yours. He had a stupid faux grin on his face.

As soon as he didn't get a response, he walked past you and made his way back to follow Sam, leaving you alone with Zemo.

~~

You're all gathered around as The Falcon goes through the plan again. Refusing to tag along with Zemo, you had to agree and make Bucky company.

They tracked Karli Morgenthau to a memorial service. But John Walker and his partner figured out the exact same plan. All you wanted to do was get all the serum back.

That is, if you didn't run into the shittiest Captain America while you and Bucky walked up the alley. You could literally hear him tightening his fists, his metal arm already functioning.

"Ah! How’d you find us now?" The soldier carried an unamused tone in his voice. You watched as John and his partner got closer to you both.

"You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?" He wasn't wrong, but you knew Bucky was past that now.

The Captain motioned his head towards you, measuring you from head to toe. "New Avenger?"

You snorted out loud and cracked a laugh. Your stomach was starting to cramp and the soldier next to you watched as John held a confused look.

"She's just a partner" He shrugged. "Sam asked for her help".

"Yeah, but not just a partner. So you better not step foot on our plans" Bucky knows how much of a menace you are.

He can't disagree with the fact that you can actually start a fight with the wrong people and not fear them.

John snorted and you narrowed your eyes at him. "Yeah, right. You wanna meet Karli, there will be civilians there. There's a high risk of casualties".

"No one's asking for your opinion, Cap. Sam is gonna talk to her and reason her" You tried to face him, but his demeanor didn't go down on you.

"She blew up a fucking building with people in it. If he's in there alone with a Super Soldier, he's getting himself killed".

Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's dealt with worse".

You were waiting inside the building while Sam tried to convince Karli. John couldn't stop pacing back and forth, even Zemo seemed annoyed already.

He started complaining about how dangerous it was, but the soldier next to you made sure it hadn't even been ten minutes yet.

Already done with his bullshit, you shifted on your foot. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. You weren't supposed to be there in the first place. He knows you're highly qualified and if shit went down you'd protect yourself.

And even though he's still pissed you're there, he can't wrap his head around the fact that this could be really dangerous for you.

John almost towered over Bucky, he was deadpanning at the Captain. "This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins".

"Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?" He tried getting into his head, but the man next to you did nothing but chuckle.

"You really don't know Sam, do you?" You chimed in and watched as John narrowed his eyes at you. "You come in here parading this new shield which, by the way, doesn't fucking belong to you and you want to dictate shit?"

By this point, he really wishes he could hit a woman. Bucky notices how John moves his body and tries to face you, but he doesn't let him.

"You better keep your distance" He warned the Captain, who took a few steps back and raised his hands in surrender.

John didn't wait five more minutes and decided to intervene in their conversation. Karli was fast enough and knocked them down before running away. You couldn't find her in the maze, but Zemo made sure to destroy the serums she had. Or he thought so.

~~

Back in the loft, the German man was lying on the couch with a soft fabric covering his eyes. He was talking about how Super Soldiers weren't allowed to exist.

In gets Bucky as he sighs before taking his jacket off. You couldn't take your eyes off his firm body, his strong arms, and perfectly shaped abs.

You were sitting opposite to him as he was on his back, just staring at his entire body. He poured a glass of whiskey before speaking up about his suspicions about John.

"Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy" He says as he rests his lips on the rim of the glass.

"Good thing you recognize that" You let out a laugh, and he snaps his eyes at you.

Bucky rolls his eyes and speaks through the glass. "You should have a look in the mirror".

You're taken aback by his response and open your mouth, ready for retaliation, but he speaks up again. "Shouldn't have given him the shield".

Sam stood next to him and pointed a finger, but you defended him. "He didn't give it".

You're sitting on the couch with your arms crossed against your chest. The former Winter Soldier walks toward you before crouching in front of you.

"Steve definitely didn't. And you're past the point of giving an opinion here. I said this mission wasn't for you".

He was too annoyed today, that's for sure. But that didn't give him the right to be a brat with you all the time. And you should ignore him, but the bickering gets him all the time.

You lift your torso and fill the gap between your faces. His brows are furrowed. "You don't get to say what I should or should not do".

The staring lingers for a while until the new captain barges into the loft asking for you all to turn Zemo over.

"Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today" Sam walks over to him.

John tries to tease your friend before the Wakandans enter the loft. They peacefully ask to turn Zemo as well, but a fight bursts in the room.

You run towards the corner of the room behind a pillar, while the wakandan knocks the captain and his friend down. The other three men are standing there, watching him get beat up with amused looks on their faces.

"Looking strong, John" Bucky teases and you snort loudly. He snaps his head your way and grins.

The soldier tries reasoning with Ayo, but she pulls herself away from him and continues to fight against John and his partner. Both him and Sam are too busy to notice that Zemo is trying to get away.

You run after him and hold the door knobs before he can lock himself. "Where the hell you think you're going?"

"Let go, or I'll shoot you" He warns, but you paid no mind. Only then, he gripped his gun quickly before shoving you backward, locking himself.

You looked over your shoulders and watched as Bucky was kneeling on the floor, grabbing his metal arm.

"Shit" You mutter and rush to him. "Everything okay?"

He carried a different look for a slight second, almost vulnerable. He reattached his arm back. Bucky looked at you and nodded. You grabbed his limb and carefully inspected it.

"Did you know they could do that?" He was still glancing down at you. His blue eyes were soft and light. He shook his head and clanked his arm.

Later on, Zemo was still nowhere near to be found, while Sam and Bucky were pissed they missed him.

"How could you not hold him back?" Your friend was messaging a few people he knew might know about him.

"I tried. He pointed a fucking gun to my head" You snapped.

The other man sat next to you on the stool by the countertop. He let out a sharp inhale. "Was it even loaded? He could've just tricked you".

"How the fuck would I know?" Your face was millimeters away from his once again. Your breath was fanning his face and you watched as he tightened his jaw.

"Know why I hate this fucking plan? Because you had one job today and you couldn't even do it" You closed your fists and clicked your jaw at his words.

"As much as I know Sam would bow down to you and say you're a great partner. I beg to differ" He got from his seat and walked with his heavy boots against the floor toward the couch.

Your voice cut through the air with bitterness and you immediately regretted it. "Sometimes you're no different from the Winter Soldier".

He stopped his tracks and spun around. Quickly, Bucky captured your face with his metal hand and squeezed your cheeks, making you pout.

"What the fuck did you just say?" His forehead was brushing yours and you could see rage in his eyes.

"Let go of her. She's just disappointed" Sam gave you a cold look before handling his partner. He grabbed Bucky by the shoulder before the man shoved your face.

You were sitting alone in the loft during the night, trying to book a flight home. Obviously, your plan to help with the mission became a disaster, nonetheless, from the beginning you knew Bucky didn't agree on this.

He thought you couldn't keep up with the plan and he was right. You were making things worse at this point. You wanted to help them, you tracked the Super Soldiers and you helped with Zemo, but that was just it.

Now you're debating whether you should just go without warning or not. Sam is going to be pissed at the end of it. He knows you're better than that, and after what you told Bucky there's no way you can face him again.

Your friend watched you from the corner of the hallway. He knows you're hurting from what happened, you wouldn't snap like that if his partner didn't push you. Sam talked to him, but he was too angry to actually forgive you.

He didn't blame him either.

"Hey, you going to sleep or what?" Sam asked as soon as he dropped his weight on the couch next to you. He peeked through your screen and saw it. "Woah, you're not leaving right? This isn't over. I still need you. We need to find Zemo".

"You can do that without me. You did it before. Besides, he's out there because of me. And Bucky is tired of my face".

He closed your laptop, and you glanced at him. "I can do it, but I don't want to. S'why I reached out to you. And we're gonna find him, he needs us too".

"And Bucky... I think it's just his sexual frustration talking" He laughed as you gasped at his words.

"Sam, what the fuck?"

"Dude doesn't even go on dates, he's probably nervous having a woman around. He's always been grumpy, I think it's in his nature. He'll come around at some point" He grinned at you.

"That's not my problem. He keeps pushing me, I'll fight back" You didn't need to look at him to see he was definitely enjoying the playfulness.

"You guys should just have sex. This is so annoying" Sam grabbed his phone as you choked on your own spit.

"For the love of God, drop this conversation before I snap at you too".

He handed the phone to you, saying Karli was threatening his sister and his nephews. She wants to find him, alone.

He has other plans, of course. But you can't even think about accepting the idea before Bucky gets to talk.

"He doesn't need to know. I'll go with him, you meet us there".

~~

You watched as he and Bucky fought the Super Soldiers along with John and his partner. They were beating each other up relentlessly.

One of them pulled a pocket knife and tried stabbing Bucky and you gasped. He shielded himself, dropping the object close to their face.

He had a snapped cut on his nose, and his jaw was split up. His knuckles were bloody red. Sam was in better shape than his friend, though.

You were shocked when you saw John's partner sitting unconscious on the floor. The captain rushed to him, too desperate to make any sense.

You pulled Bucky and Sam away and ran out of the building. "We gotta get the hell out of here now. He's gonna kill the kid" Your hands were shaking, and you almost tripped on your foot.

"Hey, woah. What are you doing here?" Bucky stopped in his tracks, looking back.

"Let's argue later, dipshit" Sam shouted at the soldier as you kept running.

In the loft, you asked Bucky to sit on the stool as you worked on his injuries. Starting on his nose, he hissed at the contact with the wet cloth.

"Keep steady, crybaby" You whispered and he looked up at you.

You cleaned the dried blood from his face and managed to apply some saline solution. The entire time, he kept his gaze on you. He noticed how focused you were on his injuries and how gently you managed it.

He held his hands up as you cleaned up his knuckles. They were red from all the punching, and it surprised you how he was still human besides the serum.

You squeeze his hands lightly, too embarrassed to look back at him before apologizing. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. It was a really shitty thing to say, and you don't deserve it. I was an asshole".

Bucky trailed his eyes to scan your face. He had a peaceful look. "I shouldn't have pushed you either. I was just annoyed Sam brought someone up to this mess".

"I accepted it. There's no right or wrong, I wanted to help". You were both still brushing your fingertips against each other.

"You're not bad after all" He mused and you chuckled. "I just- I don't think I can keep losing people".

You saw his raw personality right in front of you. That man who kept his serious and defensive demeanor was showing his true self. It was hard to miss it.

Your hand grasped his jawline, carefully rubbing his skin. He almost faltered. "That won't happen. I got two Avengers to protect me".

He snorted, showing his teeth when he laughed. "Should've seen that coming".

"And more than anyone else, you deserve that happiness. You just need to stop lying about your nightmares".

"How do you-" He was about to ask and you tilt your head.

"Sam and I talk. I know it's hard to erase the past. But you're James again, you're you" Your other hand is still holding him tightly.

Bucky refuses to look at you for a moment. And when he does, his eyes are glassy. "It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me".

You smack your lips. "You need to stop thinking you're making amends. You need to give them closure, be of service for them. Stop thinking like you still owe them just an apology".

He drops his head and bites his lip. You hold his chin up and force him to look at you. "You're not that guy anymore".

You were about to get closer for the hundredth time. Maybe close the gap between you and pull him in for a kiss. Not because you feel bad for him, for his past. But because you feel warmth when you're close to him.

You feel like he could hold the world above your head and fight for you.

That was when his phone started ringing. John killed that kid out of revenge.

~~

You finally meet Sam's sister, Sarah, after he invites you and Bucky home to help him fix his boat. A lot of their neighbors are also helping. There's a gathering with food and drinks by the lake, and every kid is excited to see the soldier. They're all lining up to hang up on his metal arm.

You're watching in the distance as he and Sarah chat about something, while two kids hang themselves on his limb. He seems lighter, happy even.

He has a different look on his face. Especially after Sam finally decided to become who he was supposed to be.

Bucky walks toward you holding two cans of beer in his hand. "You want one?"

He holds one out for you, and you accept it.

"The kids love you, you know?" You speak after sipping on your drink.

"What can I say? I'm pretty charming" He leans against the wall next to you, watching as the sun sets. There's a hue of orange in the sky.

"They only like you because of your arm. Don't get too cocky" You shove him by the arm playfully and he holds your hand for leverage.

Bucky pulls you closer to his body, his chest is heaving against yours. He's taller, so he has to look down at you.

"So you don't think I'm charming?" His words are too soft, but his grip on your waist is almost tight.

"I didn't say that" You smirk and he uses his other hand to rub the pad of his thumb on your lower lip.

The moment you felt his skin against yours, it felt like everything slowed down. Even though he was desperate to finally give you the kiss he'd been wishing for, it was obvious he was too nervous.

Sam's words lingered in your head. He was definitely in need of dates and he refused to accept it. Whatever changed his mind made you realize he had a soft spot for you.

That's what made you take the first step. You finally closed the distance and crashed your lips against his. It tasted like beer. The tiniest movement of your tongue had him groaning in the back of his throat and it almost made you smile.

He slid his tongue against yours and tilted his head for better access. He wished he wasn't holding a beer right now because all he wanted to do was cradle your face and pull you in for a deeper kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and Bucky faltered as you grasped his lip between your teeth. Both tongues were fighting for dominance and you shivered.

The fresh taste of beer in your mouth made his heart flutter inside his chest. His heart was racing and pounding against his ribcage and he felt like the air got knocked out of his lungs.

You both had to pull out for air, his hand not leaving your body for a second. Resting your forehead against his, you watched as he kept his eyes closed.

"I'm glad you're happier now. I can see it right through you"

"Someone gave me a nudge. And Sam is a great friend, much to my disappointment" He joked, giving your lips a chaste peck.

"He said some pretty nasty things about you the other day" You laughed as he displayed a surprised look on his face.

"Oh, he's a dead man".

"Hmm, he might be right" You sipped on your beer, watching as Bucky placed a hand on his hip.

"What was it about?" The soldier mirrored you with his beer.

Getting closer to his face, you spoke against his lips. Voice low and teasing "You'll have to find out".

You gasped as he pulled you harder against his body and kissed you again. This time, it had a different impact, he was rough and needy.

A growth beneath you brushed against your body, and you chuckled between the kiss. Bucky had to pull away from you. He lowered his head and shook it.

"I might know what he meant" He barely had time to laugh as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You didn't even have time to tell Sam goodbye. Next thing you know, you were both in his hotel room, filling the air with a lot of passion and moaning.

You woke up the next day with a weight on you. His metal arm was spread above your body.

Jesus, they needed to get blackout curtains in the bedrooms. You slightly opened one of your eyes and peeked through your lashes as you saw Bucky peacefully sleeping close to you.

A smile escaped from your lips at the thought of the previous night.

Happiness crossed your mind when you cradled his face and traced his jawline. He was definitely happy. And hopefully, soon, the nightmares would go away.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[urdepressedslut]

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

[winterarmyy]

Promise Me | Part III

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 4.2k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst but happy ending. The anticipation, the hesitation, yup it was real in this one. Not enough dialogue in my opinion but meh my brain was not braining. Bucky's scene before their official reunion.

P/S: Yeay, it's a wrap. Sorry for the delay guys. I'm still sick but feeling better, so that's a good news! This is the final part if the mini series, I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Louisiana, 2024 – New beginning

War after war, from one fight into another, Bucky finally had the chance to catch a breath for himself. With the flagsmashers gone and Sam being the new Captain America just as Steve envisioned, there was a moment of peace for Bucky's tortured soul to finally rest.

He sat at the deck area of Sam's ship, watching the sun meets the ocean over the horizon, occasionally sipping on his probably fifth bottle of beer.

When he drowned himself in the memories of the events that happened these past few months, suddenly the tranquil of the sunset ahead of him doesn't interest him the least; not when a certain person had been occupying his mind.

Replaying all the twists and turns of his journey fighting those rogue group of super soldiers, one person had been but remained a mystery to him.

The Deathstalker.

It was the one puzzle piece that didn't seemed fit in the picture. As if she was plucked out entirely from a different story, a riddle that would lead him into another adventure beyond the unknown.

He still remembered the way her hands trembled against his face, tears pooling in her eyes that then fell into her mask as she muttered his name again and again.

Bucky gulped as his eyes loomed over hers, "Who are you?"

The Deathstalker seemed to be taken aback by his question. Her mutterings stopped and her eyes locked on his blue ones; there was hesitation in her gaze, or a contemplation of an answer that Bucky was dying to know.

"I-- i'm--" her words stumbled as her feet dragged backwards, putting some space between herself and Bucky.

Bucky's heart stammered in anticipation, he had a gut feeling that she wasn't just someone that he had crossed path with once or twice. He could tell they had some kind of a long history, a deeper connection; Where? When? He wasn't sure. He just knew it that there was something special between them, especially when she looked at him with such eyes.

But before she could give a definite answer, multiple groups of bounty hunters started to re-gather in their area. Zemo came in clutch with a car, picking up the injured Sam with the help of Sharon.

Bucky can hear Sharon's voice yelling out his name yet he didn't move an inch and within minutes they were surrounded by the hunters.

What was it that gave him such courage to court death just to hear her answer? Was it just purely out of curiosity or was it some kind of delusional hope that intrigued his soul?

Y/N looked around to assess their dire situation before gazing up at the taller. She knew this wasn't the best time for the truth and her hesitation only makes it worst.

But when, Bucky held out his hand towards her, "Come with me." there was a strong pull that made her wanted to just give in and take his hand.

And Bucky didn't know why he reached out for her, but it felt right. She glanced in between his hand and his pleading eyes, her own hand twitching, almost submitting to her desire but the last minute she decided to stand on her ground.

Y/N ended up turning her back and fled away, leaving her lover's hand hanging and his question unanswered.

Through the time that Bucky was deep in his memories, he may or may not have unintentionally bored his gaze towards Sarah's direction, which only triggered Sam into a protective brother that he is, "Don't flirt with my sister." He warned.

Bucky briefly scoffed and denied his accusations, "I'm not." He sipped on his bottle as he averted his gaze away.

The look on Sam's face seemed like he was trying to glare into Bucky's soul; he was sceptical with the his deflection. But the brunette only rolled his eyes in response as he spoke, "Seriously. I'm not interested." He continued before Sam couldn't interject, "Not that there's anything wrong with her.. it's just..." 

Seeing Bucky's struggles to find an excuse, Sam curiously quirked, "It's just that you already have a girl in mind?" He suggested.

There was a hint of softness in Bucky's smile when he ran his thumb across the glossy sticker of the bottle, "I had a girl." He spoke dearly as his eyes diluted into another spiral of scattered memories of his past lover, "I had the best girl."

Since the truth that was unfolded in Madripoor, Y/N had been keeping tabs on Bucky. At first, she couldn't believe it. She had to put everything about the super soldier serum on hold, to uncover more of Bucky's survival.

As it turn out, he managed to survive the fall from the train back in 1945 and had been brainwashed into a lethal weapon for Hydra for years after that.

His identity had been a secret for decades but since the fall of Hydra a few years back, the whole world knew who the Winter Soldier was. However, the people in the underground world was much fond of his villain's name, rather than the name of a war hero when it comes to addressing him.

Therefore, the lack of use of his real name had been one of the reason why Y/N was not aware of his existence. Not to mention, when he made his first public appearance when the bombing at Washington D.C. happened, she was determined to leave anything related to her past life behind and was trying to live a new life away in Singapore.

Then, a few years after that, when she came back to New York during the first year of the blip, Bucky was unfortunately, one of the people who vanished.

But, those things doesn't matter anymore now that she knew he was alive. Her Bucky. Her James. He's alive. Y/N couldn't remember the last time she was this happy, this overjoyed. That night, she couldn't sleep very well; not when her heart was working overtime all through the night.

Ever since then, she had been lurking around Bucky and Sam most of the time. Besides, her own mission of making sure the super soldier serum doesn't fall into the wrong hands and to put an end to the flagsmasher, Y/N was also there just to see Bucky.

She couldn't help it.

Imagine living a somewhat immortal life without a piece of your heart for decades. Withering to the fact that you can never see your lover, not in life nor in death; Or spending days and nights, missing and longing for his soul to be one with yours again.

And then suddenly discovering he was still alive.

Of course, she would use any excuse to see him every single day without fail. But at the same time, she didn't want to make things more complicated than it already was. With the crisis of the vigilante super soldiers, she didn't think it would be wise to reveal herself to Bucky anytime soon.

So, she stayed in the shadows instead, refuse to make herself known to Bucky. Whether as the Deathstalker or as Y/N.

Except for that one time that she decided to help him.

Bucky looked around the parking lot, trying to make a decision on which vehicle would be easiest for him to hijack. That was when he heard her signature robotic voice, "Hey, sarge!" She yelled.

He followed her voice upwards to see her feet dangling in the air, as she sat on the edge of the metal of the fire escape stairs. He hadn't seen her since their first encounter at Madripoor, "You..." Bucky whispered quietly.

Now that he thought about it, did she just call him by his title?

She titled her head to the side, "Do you require any assistance, sargent?" She asked nonchalantly as if they have been buddies for years.

Yup, she did used his title. 

Bucky's signature frown only deepened when she insinuated a jest-like tone. He wasn't sure whether she was trying to appear friendly in order to help him or slow him down. So be safe, his defence went up when he straighten his back into a stance.

When Y/N saw how his guard changed, she decided to get straight to the point, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James" she leaned as if it'll close the distance between them.

She wondered if her words trigger a memory in him; after all, she did use the similar sentence in 1943 when Steve rescued him from Hydra's captivity. But the lack of response from Bucky told her otherwise. Perhaps, it was too long of past for him to remember, or it wasn't significant enough for him.

Bucky's brows quirked when she yelled, "Heads up." and his hand rose up to catch whatever it was she threw down at him.

Y/N briefly titled her head forward as she spoke, "Far left. The black bike." In which Bucky briefly followed her directions, to indeed see a black bike parked at the spot.

Bucky wordlessly turned his head back and gaze up at her with a questioning look on his face. He couldn't see her behind that mask she was wearing but if he could, he would've see her smiling, "You need it more than I do."

It has been a few months since that night. And she was still lurking somewhere in the dark. Everywhere he goes, she will be right around the corner; watching, observing.

Even now, when she found herself standing on one of the boardwalk in Louisiana, near where Sam's boat resides. There was no denying that she was sort of being a creep, basically stalking Bucky from where she was standing.

From this distance, she could see that Bucky was having the time of his life entertaining the kids with his left arm; or maybe the kids were, when they compete each other on how long they can last hanging from the vibranium metal.

Y/N just had to smile seeing him happy like this. Her heart bloomed with warmth that she never thought she would ever had the chance feel again. Bucky looked as if he was finally at peace, and that made her doubt if it was a good idea to insert herself in his life now.

She believed that he derserve a happy ending. After all he had gone through all those years, he should be able to have the luxury of having a completely new life, a new beginning. Away from the past that are just filled with painful memories and dreadful suffering. To find love again and live a long happy life where she is nothing but a distant memory.

He deserve that.

But is that what she truly wanted?

Brooklyn, 2024 – Truth Untold

"That'll be $25, sir." The red-haired smiled as she handed Bucky his usual order. He paid accordingly as he took it off her hands and walked out of the cozy little shop at the corner of the busy city street.

His gloved hand gripped onto the stem of the bouquet, as his dark and tall silhouette slithered through the crowd. Everybody seemed to be entranced with whatever it was on the screen of their phones, while Bucky felt like he was out of place and time with arrangement of primroses in his hands.

The hustle bustle of the city slowly transitioned into a much calmer and quieter scenary. He walked passed the rusty, almost deteriorating entrance gate, nodding to the old ground keeper as he passed by. He knew he could get lost if he doesn't keep his focus, yet his eyes remained on the petals of the flowers, gambling his trust in his feet to bring him to the only spot they recognized.

"Hey, doll." Bucky greeted, gripping on the stem a little tighter as he read the name of his lover on the worn-looking headstone. Months of cleaning and tending her grave, it still looked grey and sombre compared to when he first visited; but that tends to happen to a grave is been left out since the 70's.

He lowered into a crouching position and placed the flowers in front of the headstone, "I'm sorry I've been missing some weeks on ya. Duty calls." Bucky knew that wasn't a good excuse to miss their dates but the flagsmashers events had caused him to skip this little Tuesday routine of his.

As depressing it might sound, he missed coming here.

Besides going to therapy, this has been the only place where Bucky talks the most about his feelings. Though it might be completely a one-sided conversation, but he could spend hours talking to her. Telling her anything and everything that's been going on in that pretty head of his. No matter how scrambled and messy it was up there.

Bucky traced his fingers to the words engraved in the stone; it read 'Beloved daughter, sister, aunt, and friend.' Each title were delightful as they were but then again, she could've been 'a lovely wife' and 'a great mother', but she didn't.

"Why didn't you?" Bucky whispered quietly. "I just know that men must've been thrilled chasing after you, begging on their knees for your hand." He chuckled as he remembered all those times when his friends would ogle over her whenever he brought her out for a dance, "And you'd be a wonderful mother too." Knowing her gentle nature and how the kids in the hospital adored her, he just knew she would be.

His heart pierced painfully to think that she might have grown old alone, and died without family of her own. "You should've live a happy life, y/n. Marry a good man, build a family." Tears that pooled started to drip from the corner of his eyes, each tore an aching sob from his throat, "And I wished I could've be there with you."

It wasn't rare for Bucky to cry during his visits to Y/N's grave. He is the most vulnerable when he's with her; even in death, being around her has been comforting for his soul.

Y/N could clearly hear the sound of his sniffles when she stood closer to him like this. She spend day after day, gathering the courage and figuring out what to say if she ever confronted Bucky.

But in the end, the fact that Bucky was just within her reach, living, breathing; it broke whatever plan she had in her mind.

It still felt like a dream. A lucid one.

Bucky knew that was someone standing behind him; but he felt no sorts of vendetta from the person and if they mean him any harm, they would've done it sooner. He roughly stroke his palm across his face in effort to hide the tears streaks away and took a deep breath as he stood on his feet.

Whoever he had in mind, well it was definitely not that person who was standing behind him right now. It totally caught him off guard when he saw the Deathstalker standing in front of him instead of any other familiar faces.

Though her identity was still hidden, but instead of her combat attire, she was in a much comfortable clothes. Casual sneakers, basic jeans, an oversize sweater, its hood pulled over her head and a soft cloth mask covering her lower face.

Despite the change of style, her eyes were still the same. Big, brown and Bucky could only describe them to be filled with curiosity and concern as they looked up at him. He could feel the burn from the drag of her gaze on each part of his features; the softness of his lips, the red of his nose and especially the puffiness of his eyes.

He broke the silence when he started the conversation, "I assume that you're not going to fight me." He said, "At least you don't look like you're equipped for it..." Bucky pointed out the obvious.

Y/N took a few seconds of silent blinking before she responded with a shook of her head.

The lack of verbal response somehow caused him to feel slightly awkward. Rubbing the back on his neck, Bucky titled his head to the side, "So... you're here for your bike?" He asked. He still hold on to the bike that she lend to him, though it was back at his place, if that's what she wanted.

Her eyes curved into a pair of cresent moons, a side effect of a smile that Bucky couldn't see. She shook her head again to deny his speculation.

Bucky pointed out at the graveyard around them when he asked, "Uhh...are you here for a visit too?" He doubt it but it was worth to try.

Y/N looked over his shoulder, reading the familiar name engraved on the headstone behind him, before locking her eyes back to his. She shook her head yet again.

Bucky was starting to get why Sam felt annoyed with his staring problem now that he had first hand experience. Though she wasn't glaring at him like he would at Sam, but still, she was staring at him most of the time. And the lack of words made it more noticeable. "You don't talk much do you?" He asked, there was a hint of passive-aggressive in his tone.

And Y/N recognized that tone anywhere. She was surprised that that part of him hasn't change since the 40's. She remembered how Bucky would use this tone whenever he was irritated but he didn't want to be a jerk and yell out his frustration.

The fact that she still managed to notice this little quirks of his after all these years made her chuckle amusingly. There wasn't a voice changer now, it was just her voice; raw and unfiltered. And even if it was muffled behind the cloth of her mask, her laugh sounded awfully familiar to Bucky.

It sounded pretty and soft, that it tickled something in deep within his chest but not enough to trigger any memory from his subconcious, "Then, what are you doing here?" He asked curiously.

It took a moment of blinking silence before Y/N grabbed onto the fabric of her hood; she pulled it back and it revealed her slightly wavy hair dipped in raven. Bucky watched intently as her index finger slipped into the tiny slot at the side of her nose, hooking it on the fabric of her mask.

And those mere seconds of hesitation triggered the tears to form in her eyes. Her heart beating fast, tiredlessly pumping blood through the veins of her body yet her fingers still runs cold with fear.

Between the thumping sound of her own heartbeat, she might have second guessed her own decision of revealing her identity. Thinking that maybe it was best to leave the truth untold. Because what if Bucky refused to believe her?

It would truly destroy her; this time, beyond repair.

Y/N briefly closed her eyes as she breathed in, she then pulled the mask down to reveal her face. The crack in her voice betrayed the smile that curved on her trembling lips, "I'm here for you." She finally spoke.

The upward movement of muscle around her cheeks pushed her tears out, letting it flow from the corner of her eyes. She didn't dare to look at him in the face for too long, so her eyes casted downwards to where her feet dug the ground.

Decades passed and it might have been several lifetimes for Y/N since the 40's but it only felt like it was yesterday for Bucky. Especially when he had lived many years of his life to either be awake for the Winter Soldier or asleep in the freezing chambers.

All of which were just scattered of loose memories to him now. It haunted him, yes. But sometimes he couldn't tell if it was just a series of nightmares or actual reality. Thus, he tends to feel as if he had lost his sense of time. That is why he always felt out of place in the modern society.

Inside, he felt like he was still the man he was in the 40's; just thrusted forward in time. And since he started to tap into the memories of himself in those olden times, it made him felt like it hasn't been that long for Bucky since he last saw her.

Yes, he felt like it was just short distance of time but his soul certainly didn't feel the same. It had been deprived of its other half for far too long.

All the images of their time together flashed rapidly through his mind; every touch, every kiss, every laughter and even every tears they ever shared, all came rushing in like untamed waves crashing to the shore.

The beautiful strings of chaos in his head hadn't calm the slightest, in fact it pushed Bucky to move forward; to catch her silhouette before it could disappear on him like the way it always does in his dreams.

Y/N's vision was blocked when Bucky smushed her face to his chest, trapping her in an unbreakable embrace as he whispered her name, "y/n?"

Was he talking to her or was he talking to himself? Because he didn't stop muttering her name as if it was some sort of a ritual chanting.

Bucky's hand briefly roamed her body from the back of her head, barely passing her shoulders, across the spine and then folded around her waist, drawing her in; impossibly closer.

That was when she felt his body shake; much like herself, Bucky was crying for the lost time that they will never make back, for the pieces of hearts broken in those decades that they lived without one another.

Bucky had witness some unbelievable things throughout his long life on this earth; lots of mind-boggling creation of man-made technology, actual magic and sorcerers, aliens and literal Gods.

He should know that nothing is impossible. Yet, holding Y/N in his arms felt unbelievably surreal to him.

Before she managed to draw in the air, her body felt the need to melt into his form. She can feel his firm grasp around her frame, and feel how rapid his heart beating on her cheek.

At that moment, she couldn't help but to find resemblance of him to his past habits; he way he holds her, how his fingers would occasionally dance across her body, or how his nose would nudge into her hair.

Even his scent remained the same. At least the essence of it were unchanged.

Being in his arms reminded her of the whispers of promises Bucky made to her, "You promised to come home." Y/N tried to steady her breath, "You promised to come back to me."

Bucky pulled her head back, cradling her face in the contrast of his hands; one was once warm and another that felt familiar. He desperately wiped her tears away with his thumbs, almost too rough of a caress but surprisingly it brought more relief than pain to her.

Even in the sorrow and grief, anger managed to slipped through when she growled, "You dickhead, you left me behind." Though it was weak, her punches still hits the target perfectly.

Repeatedly slamming her tiny fists on his sturdy chest. The chest that were caged with heavy remorse and regret. And there wasn't really anything he could say to sooth the pain that she felt when he died.

Bucky knew that, but he had to say something, anything, "I-doll, I'm so sorry..." He was drowning her with his eyes, flooding her heart with his tears as his hand ran through her hair. Soft as he remembered it to be; at least compared from the lucid dreams she was starring in.

"Shhh!" Y/N hushed him quickly, "Just please..." her breath shuddered when she inhaled.

She didn't spend most of her lifetimes to hear an apology, not from him. If anything, he should swear on his life to never leave again, to stay this time around and always. She tugged him closer, lips hovering over each other's, just one nudge away to finally get the sweet taste of it, "...never again."

And when he kissed her, it tastes of her tears. But it was beyond fulfilling. Like their lost soul were finally being able to touch again. The gentle need, the tender crave of his kiss was enough to forge her trust back into its former glory.

And all of the sudden Bucky felt like he was drowning again; like he was desperate to breathe and she was the air. He kissed her again, and again, and again. As if he needed the taste of her lips to survive the waves; like she was his lighthouse in dark.

When they finally set apart, she wanted to speak but all she can do was croak, "Don't leave me, not again." Bucky's lips curved into a loving smile and he nods once. He folded her frame in his arms, tightly and closely; his whisper was ever-so-soft when he promised, "Never."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Did you notice two dialogue throwback from when Bucky was rescued in 1943? "I didnt come all the way here to fight with you, James" and "I'm here for you" Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one. Thanks for reading and maybe tell you what you think?

#winterarmyyfics #promise me au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #tfatws!bucky #winter soldier!bucky

[therenlover]

Always For A Second (Usually At The Start) - A Helmut Zemo x Reader fic

"And when I imagine life when it's mine / I can try to picture faceless folk to love a thousand times / But always for a second, and usually at the start / You're in the image posing with a cradled beating heart" - Katie Gregson MacLeod, i'm worried it will always be you

Synopsis: Leaving Helmut for good had been the biggest, most final choice you'd ever had to make. Two years later, he's in your living room again. This time, though, things are different.

Tags: Explicit Smut (+18), Exes, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch!Zemo, Oral (Fem Receiving), Service Top!Zemo, Aftercare, Bucky is Mentioned Too Much

Rating: E (+18) Minors DNI

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 8,600~

-------------

“I didn’t expect you to come crawling back so soon, schatz,”

The restaurant was crowded enough that nobody heard Helmut’s words, curt and cloying and so fucking familiar. Still, my face heated. It always would for him, no matter how much my common sense protested by body’s reactions. How dare he be so damn effective at getting under my skin? 

Some over-expensive brown liquor sloshed against the rim of the glass in my hand as I lifted it less than gracefully from the table, dribbling down the edge of my mouth as I guided it to my lips and drank deeply. “For one, two years isn’t soon,” I started, swallowing. “Two, you’re the asshole who showed up in my apartment like a robber, which makes you the one who came crawling back. I was just nice enough to let you take me for a free meal to get you the hell out. Three,” I set the glass down sharply, “don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I still haven’t forgiven you,” 

“Apologies,” 

He didn’t mean it. 

“Still, it’s too soon to expect any sort of kindness from you,” he continued, “If I recall correctly, you said you’d rather die than suffer through another night with me for the rest of eternity. I believe an eternity has yet to pass… and yet, here we are,”

His matter of fact tone left little up for debate, unless I wanted to reach for my fork and maim his smug face. Instead, I bit my tongue and swallowed another mouthful of whatever I was drinking.

For once I was glad to be surrounded by the kind of noisy, faceless jumble of humanity that usually made my skin crawl. F. Scott Fitzgerald was on to something with his theories on large crowds and intimacy; there was no better place for two war criminals to meet than the corner booth of a hazy restaurant, lounging and drinking, covered by the blanket of sweet anonymity. Anyone who glanced our way would see two normal human beings sharing a meal in peaceable silence, sharing sparse conversation between bites of this and that. 

They would see lovers.

The thought left a lump in my throat. 

Maybe I looked uncomfortable enough that they would presume, correctly, that we were ex-lovers. I wasn’t hopeful about it, though. 

Helmut noticed, of course, but I knew he would. He had always had an almost supernatural sense for these things, like he could tune into my emotional radio on a frequency I didn’t even fully know myself. Enemy or ally or… otherwise, it was a constant to be seen through and picked apart like carrion. An appetizer for the fights to come. Thankfully, though, he chose to have mercy on me this time in a rare show of respect. Instead of wrapping his lips around another snide comment- even though I could tell it was burning a bitter hole into the tip of his tongue behind his clenched teeth- he chose to pick up a ring of calamari from the plate between us. He held it up to examine the crust in the dim lamplight before placing it delicately against his lips, pulling it from the fork in one bite. Still, he couldn’t be too gracious. Helmut held eye contact as he went.

I could only managed a disgusted sigh but found myself mirrored as his teeth sunk into the squid and his brow furrowed. 

“Bad?” I asked.

He chewed for a good while before managing to swallow the offending clump down, gagging all the way. “Despite my recent diet, that might be the worst thing I’ve eaten in a long while,”

A laugh escaped me before I even knew it was there. “You managed to pick a restaurant where our appetizer is worse than prison food? Serves you right for ordering seafood in the midwest,” 

“I suppose it does.” He nudged the plate towards me with a growing smirk, “See for yourself. I’d hate to see it wasted, and as you said, it is ours. I can’t be expected to finish it alone,” 

As if under the spell of his charisma all over again, I followed his instructions without a second thought. It was just as bad as I anticipated. 

Things were off to a bad start from the moment the tines of my fork hit the batter. The breading seemed to squelch under the pressure, sagging and giving way into meat that was somehow both rubbery and gelatinous, if that was even possible, and if the texture seemed bad outside of my mouth it was even worse inside. Somewhere between its fishy tang and the overly salted batter, there was a bitter, almost sour note that seemed to permeate further with every chew. I spit the macerated glob into my napkin before even attempting to swallow down the remaining spit. 

Across the table, Zemo grinned at my misfortune. “Let’s hope our entrees are less offensive to our palettes,” 

“Fuck off,” I muttered, lips turning up at the edges. 

“You can curse all you want at my poor choice of venue, but I can tell you’re glad you’re the one who ordered the pasta instead of the steak,” 

I went for my glass again, letting the liquor with a name I couldn’t pronounce burn all the way down my throat and into my chest. “I hate that you’re always right, Helmut. Can’t you be wrong, just once? Leave some correctness for the rest of us,” 

Maybe it was the lighting, soft and amber against the dark wood of the table to mask the bloody steaks that would sit below, or maybe it was the music, something old and swinging that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but knew from the radio in my grandmother’s car as a child, or maybe, just maybe, it was the crows feet that popped up around Helmut’s eyes when he smiled that hadn’t been quite so prominent the last time I’d seen him, but no matter the cause, the solid iron wall I had put up around my heart when I walked out of the Baron’s life those two year sago seemed to soften. Weakened, somehow. It was like someone took a blowtorch right to the center of my defenses. Something in me screamed that they had never been all that strong to begin with. 

I only noticed I’d been staring when he looked away, clearing his throat and wiping his thin mouth with the napkin from his lap. 

There went my hand. Helmut, 1. Me, 0… Well, 1, if leaving him those years ago counted for anything, and I refused to believe that it hadn’t. That the blow to his ego hadn’t given me at least a slight upper hand compared to the naive girl I had been in comparison when I first met him. There had been so much good in the world then. 

The silence dragged on as if the structural flaws of my guarded heart could patch themselves up with the defenses created from just a few silent moments between us. That’s all it would take for me to remember all the reasons this would never work: all the pain, the sleepless nights, the snide comments that turned into biting replies that grew into massive, earth-shattering fights that exploded into days or weeks or months living alone in a house with him. One by one, the memories flooded back, reminding me exactly why it had taken me almost two years to find enough peace within myself that I wouldn’t decide to shoot the man in front of me on sight. My heart hardened by the second.

“I saw your concert,” 

I was simultaneously thawed and frozen all over again. “How did you-“ 

“James mentioned it,” 

“You still talk to Bucky?” 

“Here and there,” 

The conversation lapsed into silence. 

He had… been there? I didn’t even bother to think about the talk I’d have to have with Bucky about my privacy, too focused on the more important matter at hand. 

The venue was grungy, a basement bar with a small stage serving the communities aspiring comedians and desperate punk-rock garage dwellers just waiting for their big break. I had barely had the guts to pay the booking fee, though. It was just me, a piano, and my guitar for an hour and a half set of mostly cover songs that had gone better than I’d expected, but hadn’t been anything crazy. The crowd was appreciative and respectful. Several people had left tips, even more giving me a congratulatory clap on the back as I left the building that night, promising to “stream my EP” whenever I released it, despite the fact that I had no plans to do any such thing. Still, I couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t seen his face in the crowd. I couldn’t name what I was feeling as I imagined it; visualized his face on the other side of the smoky room, leaned against the bar with his dark eyes catching hold of mine…

“You came and you didn’t say anything? Not even a hello?” 

Helmut laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “And risk my life over a free concert? No.” He paused, “Despite my tendency to sometimes be… less than kind, I knew it would rattle you to see me. I didn’t want to throw you off before your performance.” 

I didn’t have much of anything to say in response. Instead, I picked at the paper straw wrapper in my lap and tried to look anywhere but in his direction, shoving down whatever was welling up in my chest. He wouldn’t let things go, though. He never could. That was half of why we’d never work. Every time I tried to drop an uncomfortable subject he’d be there to pick it up with a snide comment or two. It was an easy rhythm. Too easy. I had never wanted to fall back into it and yet, here I was, almost excited to snipe his next words down. 

“Cain misses you,” He continued. 

I folded the straw wrapper in my hands, pulling at the crease as I thought about the doberman puppy I had left behind. He would be so big now, as big as the one I’d taken with me was now. My heart ached at the thought. 

“I doubt he remembers me after all this time,” 

“Of course he does,” Helmut’s voice was low. It was almost hypnotic, the way he carried himself. He could fool anyone. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my stomach that couldn’t have been the calamari, he could still fool me. “He’s quite the troublemaker. More times than I can count he’s evaded me in the house, only to be found asleep in your old closet. I think he remembers your scent,” 

“Thats…” I sat quiet for a moment, pursing through choices of words in my mind, mulling over the sharp accented way he pronounced the t in scent, “Sad. Really sad. Makes me wish I could’ve taken them both,” 

“And what of Brutus?”

“He’s good,” A smile crossed my face. “Big, as you saw tonight. I remember when we got them, they told us they’d be 60 pounds at most, but I swear Brutus must’ve snuck in with the rest of those puppies, because he’s massive. Headbutts me every time I walk through the door wondering where I was. He’s a good boy, though. Keeps watch while I sleep, just in case.”

“Just in case I decided to let myself in through the window one night?”

I let myself laugh without judgement this time, reaching for my water. “Looks like it was all for nothing, then. Who knew he’d just let intruders come waltzing in off of the fire escape?” 

“Am I truly considered an intruder in your home?” He asked it as if the answer wasn’t obvious. As if there were any other answer I could possibly give. As if I could’ve wanted him there. His earnestness almost hurt as much as his taunting did, maybe more, because even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, there was a soft ring of truth to his words. 

I took the cowards way out. “I don’t know, what do you think?” 

It was a vulnerability to not give a straight answer, the kind of weak spot that Helmut would catch wind of in an instant before using it to unravel someone piece by piece. Not a no, but certainly not a yes, and the fact that it hadn’t been a resounding yes was enough to glean that maybe, deep down, I wasn’t hating this dinner. He would see through me. Rip me to shreds for the subtle admittance that I hadn’t hated seeing him waiting for me on the couch when I walked through my door, even if I hadn’t expected or wanted him there in the first place. 

I found it was better to lie by omission than to fully lie and let him see through me to the more important truth; For as much as I despised everything about him, I had missed Helmut Zemo. I had missed his stupid expensive taste and the tilt of his stupid head and his stupid shiny white smile. I had missed seeing his coat hung up beside the door and knowing what waited for me inside. It was sick how I had loved him. How I had loved every minute of him picking me apart by the seams and putting me back together. Who could possibly crave their own destruction? Who could live knowing that to be loved was to be deconstructed down to the bone and laid bare as something lesser, something so small compared to the great destroyer I devoted myself to. 

How could he let me live like that if he truly saw through me? 

And that was why I had to leave. 

Loving Helmut Zemo was no way to live. I knew that. I had known that the day I picked up my dog and walked out of our home with nothing but my wallet, car keys, phone, and a polaroid picture of his silhouette. Somehow, I knew that he knew that too. Why else would I move on so suddenly, so sharply, removing every piece of the life we’d built to start myself fresh? A new me, I had said. A new chapter. Yet here I was across from him, shredded bits of paper littering my lap as he puppeteered my heart right back into his arms. 

No. I couldn’t let it happen. 

Not again. 

“Listen, baron,” I didn’t let him answer my rhetorical question. It wouldn’t be wise to let him gain the upper hand again. It wouldn’t be smart to let myself stay weak. “I appreciate dinner. It’s been surprisingly lovely to catch up with you. I’m glad to know you’re not dead, and its great to know Cain is doing well, but I know you weren’t here to tell me that over a plate of mediocre pasta,” 

Helmut smiled, his head in its signature tilt, and swished his own glass a bit. The ice was all but melted giving the liquor an almost clear quality as it diluted. Not a sip had been taken. “Ask the question, schatz,” 

“Why are you here? Why did you stalk me here and break into my apartment when I made it clear that you weren’t welcome in my life?” My words came out so matter of fact even I almost recoiled at them. Not unemotional but detached. 

“Um, who had the chicken alfredo?”

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I looked up at the poor waiter, hot plates in hand, as he took in our table at just the wrong time. Five minutes earlier he would have walked in on polite conversation about the dogs or the shitty appetizers. Now, though, he stood between a man who was known to kill for the things he wanted and me, the one thing he could never have again. 

Surprisingly, though, Helmut waved a hand towards me as I froze. There were none of the usual dramatics, just polite chatter with the waiter as he set my plate in front of me and left Helmut with his, taking the offending calamari plate away with him as he scurried away, surely to tell his coworkers about the crazy exes at the corner table. Helmut didn't even carry on with his answer. He just started tucking in to his steak and potatoes, not sparing me a single glance. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t memorized the way his eyes looked in the low light of a restaurant across from me, I would think he’d been replaced by a skrull.

Where was the tearing? The shredding? The utter evisceration of my waiting throat as he drank deeply of my darkest, most shameful thoughts only to spit them out for the world to see. Where was that shame? In the before times, in the times that the two of us had been a we, he never would have paused to mind a waiter. The world would have revolved around him as he laid me bare, no matter who watched or waited in the wings. What changed? 

How had I not noticed his docility until now?

The pasta was decent. It was better than anything I would’ve made at home, at least. I barely thought about it, though, letting my body go through the motions of eating mechanically while my mind went over a million things I could say. What could I say? There was nothing left to. We had gone over every possibility before I had left, at least I thought we had. Whatever we were was dead. That was certain. But what we could be…

I swallowed hard before I could choke on a relatively large piece of broccoli I neglected to chew in my trance. 

Helmut seemed to be in a painfully similar situation. One look at his plate showed a steak cut into tiny pieces. Almost none of it looked eaten, just diced into a pile and shuffled around a bit on the plate to mix with the potatoes, smashed down from their neat ice cream scoop globe and spread with the back of a fork. 

With a sigh, I set down my fork, pasta already forgotten. 

“Lost your appetite?” 

He paused his fiddling with his fork and knife, mirroring me and letting the utensils rest on the table beside his plate. It was odd to see him rattled. Strange to watch his eyes roll up to the ceiling and pause there, as if he was searching for the right words to say. He always knew just what to say to cut the deepest. Maybe it was foreign for him to not want to cut; To find a soft word, instead of a sharpened one. His mouth opened one… two…three times. Open and shut, open and shut. I couldn’t help but hurt for him. The man of many words was finally struck dumb. 

Finally, it came. 

“I’m sorry,” 

I had anticipated a selfish reply, a demand for me to come back and put the past two years behind us, but time had changed him. It had changed us both. He was no longer the man he had been when he was first freed from behind bars, vengeful and biting and so deeply afraid of being alone again, but I was no longer the lost girl I had been either. I did not need to be destroyed to breathe. I could feel tears pricking up in my eyes as he reached a hand across the table to search for my own. It was such a familiar sight in a time of uncertainty. I kept my hands firmly in my lap, though. I would not give him the satisfaction. 

More, I would not give him hope.

“Come home, schatz,”  

There it was. 

I couldn’t hold in the bitter, wet laugh that bubbled up through me, more at my own foolishness than at anything else. He had changed, yes, but some things never would. 

“Helmut,” The word hurt to say. It was altogether both familiar and unfamiliar, covered in a thick layer of dust from time, but nothing could erase the fact that it had once been used over and over, like a prayer, as easy as breathing or saying my own name. “You know I can’t,” 

He let his hand slink back to his side. “I had to try, you know,”

“I know,” The words were a whisper. 

So this was closure? 

The table was quiet. There was no desperation from Helmut’s side, no attempts to sway me or sudden outbursts of resentment. It was almost peaceful. His voice was sad but there was no manipulation in it. We laid our cards of the table as the game we’d played for years finally came to an end. 

“You were right about us, when you left,” he laughed, “I was, as you so aptly put it, a massive ass. I was still so deeply disillusioned about this world and the horrors of it. It was as if everyone around me was just another cog in it all, even you. I thought if I could puppet it all, make things go my way, everything could just be quiet. The horrors would finally stop. The memories would finally stop. I took it too far, though. I took it out on you. For that, I will never be sorry enough,” 

I put up a hand. “Helmut, you don’t have to do this-“

“I want to,”

His voice was delicate but didn’t waver. For the first time I wondered if this was more about what he needed to say than about what I needed to hear. I nodded him on. Without me even thinking about what I was doing, my hand caught his across the table.

“I wanted to run after you the same day you left. I nearly did, too, before I thought better of it. Then I really thought of what you said. What I did. It was then that I decided I had to change for the better, not for you but for myself. Only then would I allow myself to try again. So I did. I spent my time deconstructing the things I had seen and done and finally facing my own demons. I’m not perfect- believe me -but there are many things I have… worked on, for lack of a better word. James was surprisingly helpful throughout it all,” 

“Is that why you’ve been talking?” My thumb stroked over his knuckles, pausing on a scar. 

“More or less. I needed advice on how to overcome my atrocities, and I owed him an apology either way. He told me about your concert because he thought I would be ready to make amends, and yet I found myself unable to speak to you because I knew that if I did, I would have to beg you for forgiveness, and that is not something I will allow myself to do from anyone. Not now, nor ever,”

I let myself pull away. This was not a movie. There was no happy ending for the two of us at the end of this conversation. It was a chance to clear the air and let go of our grievances before going our separate ways. Treating it any other way would only hurt us both. “Why break in, then, and drag this all out over dinner? Why not just knock on my door, apologize, and leave?”

“I couldn’t have you slamming the door in my face and leaving me to apologize to the wall, now could I?” 

We shared a sad smile, a knowing one. “I guess that’s true.” 

“I needed to know you would hear what I had to say until the end,” he paused, “And one last confession. I must admit, I could not walk away without sharing dinner with you one last time. It’s selfish, as I am selfish, but I could not see you again without truly seeing you, more than just as you shouted at me and threw me to the curb,” 

“You think so little of me?” I asked. There was no bite in it. 

“No, I think so little of myself,” he finally took a sip from his glass, “Any anger on your part is warranted,” 

We did not speak again for a long while. Helmut methodically went through the bite-sized pieces of steak on his plate as I finished the alfredo, which had grown cold in the time it took to sort things out. There was no quiet conversation, no jokes or shared stories in the glow of the lamps overhead. Instead we sat in peaceable silence and breathed in the finality of it all. I was almost grateful for it. I never would have imagined sharing a meal like this with him in all of the years I had known him and loved him. If it was to be the last, and it was, we would savor every moment of each others company. Every moment not spent on my meal was devoted to memorizing the line of his jaw and the shape of his eyes as he did the same for me. 

By the time the waiter came to ask about dessert, I could have written sonnets about his face alone, and by the time he returned with the check, paid discreetly with a 40% tip for his troubles on Helmut’s card, I had committed the sound of his breathing to my mind. I could only hope the memory would last this time.

Realistically, I knew it wouldn’t. 

I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as we approached the front of the restaurant together, pausing awkwardly outside the door as we exited out onto the street. 

“So, this is it,” My hands found the pockets of my coat as I rocked onto the balls of my feet. 

Helmut smiled softly in the lamplight. “Let me walk you home,” 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” 

“Says who? I have to follow you either way, my car is parked down the block,” He offered me his arm. 

I took it far quicker than I should have, relishing in the scent of his cologne. Even after all these years he had never switched to another brand, and I refused to admit to anyone else but myself that I was grateful for it. Instead I leaned into his warmth. “Well, it’s only a few blocks anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt,” and with that, we were off. 

The night was cool. Summer had given in to the pull of a lush fall, the temperatures dropping to a comfortable but windy chill when the sun fell below the horizon. The leaves were not yet falling but they’d begun their slow transformation from green into a mosaic of reds and yellows and greens, forming a rustling canopy above the sidewalk that allowed a flash of stars and moon through the foliage every few steps. 

We were not the only pair walking through the streets that night, but if you had asked me about it later I would have said we were the only two people in the whole city, matching each other step for step under the flickering streetlights. Helmut’s crows feet were in full force as he laughed at my terrible jokes, and I couldn’t help but feel warmth rush through my neck and cheeks as he recounted the moment we first met. 

It had been fall then, too. A brief, chance encounter in the streets of Paris was all it was, a night spend with a stranger, until I had seen him again in Sibera, and again in Germany, and again on the Raft, and again, and again, and again, and again…

He had been younger then, much younger, and still raw with grief, but I had loved him even then.

I was so lost in my own memories that I almost missed the stairs up to my apartment, but Helmut paused there, keeping me rooted with him even though the look in his eyes told me he almost kept walking past, hoping to gain one more turn around the block before he had to let me go. He didn't, though. This was the end of the line. 

My arm slipped easily from its place against his own, hand catching briefly on the crook of his elbow. “Walk me to my door?”

His laugh felt almost nervous, a paid mockery of my own earlier reticence. “I don’t think that’s wise,” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman, baron?” 

“I have never claimed that,” For a moment, when he paused, I thought that would be that. I would turn my back, ascend the stairs, and turn around to find he’d shifted back into the shadows from whence he came, but then the moonlight caught on his soft, wet eyes. “But for you, schatz, I try to be,” 

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say as we walked up the front steps and into the building. 

It had been so angry last time. I had vomited up every hateful, raging, repressed thought that I had shoved down into my chest over the course of our turbulent time together all at once and left without a second glance. This time, though, it felt wrong to end things without giving him credit for all of the other things, the things I had forgotten in the midst of all the chaos that surrounded us. How could I thank him? How could I tell him every wonderful thing about himself only to close the door in his face a moment later? I spent the whole trip up to my apartment trying to find a way to express even an ounce of what I felt, and then it was far too late. 

We stood there on my novelty doormat, boots settled over the dirty cartoon chickens, hands in our pockets, and breathed in the stale hallway air. 

“Thank you for dinner,” I said. If I shut off my heart and my mind and every other little betraying ache in my bones it was like it had been all those years ago. We were just meeting. This was the end of our very first date. There was a future instead of a past in the time that lay beyond us. 

Helmut averted his eyes from mine. I could tell he was pretending too. “Of course,” 

“I’ll see you again,” I lied, “I mean, it’s inevitable. We’ll end up at Bucky’s place at the same time,” 

“Or run into each other at a busy cafe,” he offered. 

“Exactly! Or our cells will end up next to each other in maximum security prison,” I laughed, but it caught, pathetic, in the back of my throat.  

He took a step back, boots leaving my doorstep. “I look forward to it, whenever it may be,” 

My shaking hands found my keys, an autopilot motion I had done a million times, and the door to my apartment swung open. I could hear Brutus in his kennel, beginning to whine the moment he heard me come home, but I paused there for a moment, one foot in and one foot out. 

“Goodbye, Helmut,” 

“Sleep well, schatz,” 

I stepped inside and locked the door without turning around for a last look. 

My tears came quicker than expected as I took in the room around me. It was the antithesis of my home with Helmut, all whites and beiges and grays from the sparse walls to the lonely couch against the wall. There was one great shock of black, though; a solid footprint on the windowsill. One last souvenir to remember him by. 

I had done the right thing. 

I had to have done the right thing. 

Life with Helmut was hell. It was exciting and lush and romantic and alluring but it was destructive and painful too. It would mean being seen and unseen for the rest of my life, living with the ghosts of those lost in Novi Grad. He would never stop being the man his grief had created. He was just too broken… wasn’t he? 

All at once I knew I had to see him again. This wasn’t going to be the end. There were still so many chances to make it right. 

Before I knew my own feelings, I was undoing the latch and throwing my door open, only to find him there, feet planted solidly on that stupid welcome mat and fist raised to lift the knocker. Our eyes locked. 

We didn’t need words then. 

No, all I needed was his lips on mine and my hands in his hair. It was a need easily rectified. 

He didn’t pull away as I grabbed the edges of his ridiculous fur coat and dragged him in for a kiss, letting the remains of that day’s lipstick smear against his chapped lips as the parted and made way for me. It was like a piece of my puzzle fell back into place, like the thing that had been lying dormant in my empty chest for the past two years had jumped to life and jumped into my throat. The tears weren’t coming anymore, though Helmut’s cheeks felt wet when I guided one of my hands to rest against it, dragging him closer. I needed him urgently. I needed all of it. Every moment I had missed. 

At least one time in my entire tiny, useless life I needed to know him as he had always known me. I had to see him through eyes that would know every atom of him by heart. 

It could have lasted second or hours. I was lost in it; lost in every heartbeat and the messy clack of teeth on teeth as we remembered exactly how our mouths locked into each other. There was no need to breathe. I would happily drown in him if he would let me. Through the passion I distinctly remembered this fervor, the endless need for him. It wasn’t frightening anymore, though. I knew how to walk away. We both did. 

This time I didn’t want to. 

Helmut was the first to pull away. His mouth was wet and red as he panted there, just a breath away from diving in for more, but he pulled away when I advanced again, instead choosing to speak between placing kisses on my cheeks and down my jaw. “I couldn’t let you walk away from me. Not again,” his voice shook as he kissed me, “Does that make me a bad man? Does that mean you can’t love me?” 

I could only breathe a laugh as I pressed my chest to him. No measure of closeness was enough. I needed him to cover every inch of me. “I don’t think I could stop loving you if I tried, and I’ve tried,” 

“Please, stop trying,”

With that, he caught me in another kiss. 

“We should probably go inside,” I panted, gesturing towards the apartment with my head and Helmut nodded, maneuvering us over the threshold and into the barren entryway of the home  I’d made without him. It didn’t matter, though. That wasn’t what I was focused on. Instead, my hands were more focused on pulling his coat from his shoulders and discarding it loosely in the direction of the coat rack between fevered kisses. 

The old Helmut would’ve pulled away and make some snarky remark about keeping the place clean. This Helmut, though- my Helmut, as I had selfishly started to refer to him mentally in the past few moments -just dragged me in closer after his arms were freed, letting his hand drift to the small of my back but not even an inch lower.

Suddenly, though, things seemed to cool. The kisses grew shorter, softer. His arms still held me but seemed to loosen their grip. 

“Tell me you want this,” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear, “That you want me,” 

Ah. So that’s what this is. 

“Helmut, of course I do-“ 

“That’s not enough,” his voice was laced with a rare seriousness as he pulled away to look at me properly. His brown eyes glowed a million honeyed colors under the shitty, flickering overhead lighting I should have replaced months ago. They flitted from my swollen mouth to my cheeks to my watery eyes as his hand came up to cup my cheeks again. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake or a bad decision you’ll regret the second we finish,” 

The rest went unsaid. 

(Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me this means something to you, even if it doesn’t mean as much as it does to me. Tell me I won’t wake up alone tomorrow morning. Tell me anything and everything except the cruel reality that neither of us really knows what the future looks like once this is over)

I simply nodded my head, coming in for one closed mouth kiss. “I want this. I want you. Whatever I choose to do next, you’ll be a part of the decision. No more running away,” 

Like a shot, we were off to the races again. 

It was hard to detach our bodies long enough to give Brutus a treat to quiet him down, harder still to lead him to the bedroom and drop his hand long enough to turn on a nearby lamp, but somehow I managed. For all of the small things I’d forgotten about Helmut in the two years we’d spent apart, his bitten nails and the silhouette of his nose and the sound of his labored breathing as he took in my body with something akin to animalistic hunger, it was easy to fall back into the rhythm we’d always found ourselves in intimately. 

His shirt came off first, exposing the soft curve of his stomach. I kissed down from his neck to his chest, letting myself pause on each and every pinkish scar that graced his flesh. I made a mental note to ask him about a few new ones, including a wicked one across his collarbone that still puckered into an inch long divot in his flesh. My fingers followed my mouth, mapping every inch of his flesh. They caught on every soft yielding place he offered, a worship on the altar of his body, dragging his flesh ever so slightly but never enough to leave a scratch or bruise. 

I would not mark him any more than the world already had. It was not my purpose to remold him into my image. Instead I would venerate what he was, what he had become. 

Helmut had put so much effort into changing himself, rebreaking the things that had never healed correctly and setting them right again. I refused to let him break down to splinters again. Not on my watch. 

He shuddered at my attentions. 

“Let me see you?” It was a question, not a demand, and how could I deny him when he asked so nicely? 

I stood up again, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against the hem of my t-shirt, the gentle scratch of nails on skin as he lifted it over my head. When he looked at me, it was like he was looking at the most precious thing in the world. Usually he was so hungry for it that there was never a pause once my shirt was discarded. My bra would be thrown off with it, then my pants, then my underwear, all in such quick succession that I barely distinguished one article from the next in the order of things. This time, though, he paused, hands just inches from my bare flesh. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispered to me like a prayer, a confession, “I don’t think I can hold back much longer,” 

Slowly, deliberately, I stepped forward and pressed my body into his awaiting hands. He squeezed my hips once, gentle, and twice. Then they were roaming up to the clasp on my bra with that usual hunger again, freeing my breasts for his attentions. I don’t exactly recall how he manhandled me on to the bed, I was too busy feeling the hard press of his bulge through his crisp dress slacks. The first thing I was fully cognizant of was his hot breath on my sternum as he hovered over me, still standing but bent at the waist, boxing me in with his knees. 

“So fucking sweet,” he whispered before taking one of my nipples between his lips and laving his tongue over the hardening tip. 

I felt like a live wire. Heat was building everywhere. Dazzling electricity shot through my head and fingers and toes and cunt and gods especially my breasts. They were always my weak spot, and how he knew it, how he knew me. I wanted to thrash against him, to buck and gain his attention where I really needed it, but his body above mine held me fast, keeping me right where he wanted me, vulnerable to him and his specific brand of torture. With a particularly sharp pinch and a well timed suck he had me keening against him, curling into his every move. 

How had I lived without him? It was hard to imagine a night not spend here with Helmut, wherever here was, not that that mattered. I was embarrassingly wet. The slickness had gathered enough that I could feel it on my thighs despite my jeans. When I tried to relieve myself, though, the baron caught my hand, tutting softly. 

I expected to have to ask permission. Soft begs escaped my mouth. I needed him. I had no patience for games. Instead, though, he lifted up off of my chest and smiled, pulling my hand to his lips. “Let me help you, love,” 

There are no words in the human language that could adequately represent the sound that escaped my mouth. I could not even begin to try. It continued even as I lifted my hips to shimmy free from my jeans and underwear in one fluid motion, only ceasing when Helmut was on his knees with his face buried in my cunt. I was making different noises then. Loud. Guttural. If I had any mind left at all I would worry what my neighbors thought, to see me out on my doorstep desperately pawing at a man only to hear the noises we were making in tandem now. Thankfully, any sensible thought I had left seemed to fly out the window with Helmut’s first lick to my cunt. 

It was clear that he hadn’t forgotten me, and if he had, the muscle memory was coming back quick. His tongue was deft as it worked its way over my aching nub in a pseudo-figure eight; circling once, twice, and three times before dipping back through my folds. I held him in place this time, though, rocking into his mouth. At some point my hands found their way into his hair. It was so soft between my fingers, so pliable as I pulled against him, desperate for more of him, anything he would good. 

Every time he relented to me. Each sharp jolt was rewarded with a kiss against my thigh or a muttered curse in Sokovian, hot breath teasing my glistening mound. 

He was so giving, so attentive to my every need. He had always been a generous lover, never leaving me wanting for anything, but this felt… different. The way he sucked bruises into my thighs, relenting to each and every sobbing please that escaped my soft lips, was a new and devastating experience. There were no power games left to play, no lording his sexual prowess over me as he brought me slowly closer and closer to the ever distant goalpost, just his mouth on me over and over and over again as he wrung the first orgasm of the night out of me, then the second in short measure, barely ceasing from one to the next.

By the time he decided I’d had my fill, my legs were a trembling mess against his shoulders and my cunt was a sopping mess. 

He grinned a crooked grin at his masterpiece.

“How was that, my love,” 

I could barely catch my breath enough to speak. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, thrumming a frantic drumbeat even as the room quieted. “So good- really really good, Helmut,” 

Slowly, he rose up from his knees, undoing his belt. “Please say my name again, schatz,” 

“Helmut,” My voice was hushed. Reverent. 

He undid the button at his fly, pulling at the band of his boxers. “Again,” 

It fell from my lips like a prayer. “Helmut,”

His cock bounced free, bobbing as he took a sharp, steadying breath. He placed his hand at the base and squeezed slightly. 

“Again,” 

“Helmut,” 

“Fuck, that’s good,” The trance broke momentarily as I gazed up at him, watching the sweat roll down his forehead in shining rivulets despite the chill in the air. He wiped at them with the back of his free hand and smiled sheepishly. “Scoot back and get comfortable, please. I don’t think I’ll last long,” 

I did as he asked, settling against my pillows on the still-made sheets. “Neither will I,” 

“Where are your condoms?” 

“Bedside drawer, way in the back. I’m on the pill too, so no worries,” 

He moved quickly, grabbing a foil package from the small pile I’d accrued, just in case. 

It felt odd to have him be the one using them. 

There had been a few other men who had been invited here, fewer still that made it to the point that Helmut and I were at now. Every time, though, I hadn’t been able to go through with it, because every time they had finally settled themselves above me, I would close my eyes and, just for a moment, see Helmut in their place. It was unsettling the first time, enough so that I sent the guy home right away. The next time, though, it was more thought provoking than anything. I chalked it up to him being my longest lasting sexual partner and left it at that, but now, watching him roll the condom onto his length and crawl into his position over me, I knew. 

I would never get over him, even if I tried for years. My heart had a space carved out in the shape of his own. No matter how long I stayed away, I would never find something quite like what we had. He was it. This was what people dreamed about. And to think, I had almost let it slip away…

He slid one hand into mine, lacing our fingers together in the gentle lamplight. “Are you ready for me?” 

“More than ready,” My thighs spread as I canted my hips up.

Physically and mentally and every other possible way I needed him. I was prepared. 

So Helmut pumped himself once with his free hand before guiding himself into my wet heat. 

It was impossible to last long once we were finally complete. 

Feeling him inside me was like knowing the truth of the universe. It was comfortable, and thrilling, and so deliciously enough. He filled me well, finding his rhythm as he swore and released my hand to prop himself up more comfortably. We were linked together like the final pieces of a puzzle. I closed my eyes at let myself relish in it. 

There was nothing left to worry over while Helmut was inside of me. All thoughts that weren’t of him were banished. It was something to be cherished, every thrust paired with a whispered confession of love from one of us, a fleeting kiss, a curse, a plea… We laid ourselves bare. I let my legs wrap around his warm, soft hips as he rutted into me, bringing a hand between us to circle my clit once more. Even after everything he refused to leave me behind while he chased his own pleasure. It didn’t take much to send me tumbling over the edge into oblivion. 

As always, Helmut followed me down. 

His thrusts quickened, then stilled as he came to rest upon me, panting and heaving and begging for breath. I didn’t care much. He smelled of cologne and sweat as I buried my face in his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could feel him soften inside of me but I was far too spent to urge him to move.

We only shifted apart when he slipped free of me.

Helmut quickly kissed my forehead and gathered himself up, shuffling to the trash can to discard the used condom and grab a tissue to wipe himself up. I didn’t let myself move an inch. If I moved, would the bliss run away? Would I realize what I’d done? I let myself lay instead, eyes closed, panting in the autumn chill as my lover approached and wiped up our beautiful mess as gently as he could manage. With one last kiss to my thigh, he discarded the rag, opened the window, and crawled back into bed with me. 

The process was indelicate, a lot of awkward shuffling of sticky limbs, but we were settled beneath the blankets soon enough. Helmut stroked his fingers down my arm languidly while kissing the back of my neck. 

I broke the peace between us. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what this means for us,” 

He sighed gently. His breath was soothing and familiar against my shoulder. “That’s not something we have to decide at this very moment,” 

“But I just don’t want you to think this means something… or at least something more than it does? If that makes sense? I don’t know,”

“Schatz, please,” 

“I want to keep my own place, at least for now. I don’t know what that means for when I’ll see you or if we’ll keep doing this,” I gestured vaguely to my nude body beneath the sheets, “or if we’re even a thing anymore, bu-“ 

Helmut reached his arm around us, placing a quieting finger over my lips and another soft kiss against my shoulder. 

“I swear, your mind sounds even louder than mine,” 

“Sorry,” 

“No reason to be,” His hand left my lips, running down to my stomach and pulling me back towards the softness of his chest. “As for your questions, I shall respect your wishes about distance and housing and labels, whatever they may be. That being said, as long as you’re still up for… this, as you put it, I will never deny you, no matter the distance. I would cross oceans for you,” 

A cum-drunk, half-asleep giggle escaped me as he nuzzled in, kissing my ear. 

“Thank you,” 

“No, thank you,” he matched my laughter with his own, “I believe this is what James would call post nut clarity,” 

“Now you ruined it!” I huffed. The faux anger only lasted a moment, though, before I was rolling to face him, cheek pressed to the soft, downy hair of his chest. “I love you, Helmut.” 

“I love you too, sweet girl. Now sleep. I’ll get up and deal with the dog once you’re resting,” 

For the first time in two years, I breathed in the scent of Helmut’s cologne before lapsing into a peaceful sleep.

---------

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is my first foray into smut in literal years, and it was literally all written within a 12 hour period, so I hope any mistakes weren't enough to take away from your enjoyment. Comments are always appreciated, but never expected. See you on the next authors note!

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #daniel brühl #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo smut #marvel smut

[hereticpriest]

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

[addict-rat]

Your Eyes Betray You

Summary: You have a rivalry with Zemo and his team, but you also have mixed feelings with him, in one mission you both finally end up saying what you feel and more.

Words count: 2880

Paring: Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Warnings: +18 Explict, swering, very poorly written smut, wall sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v. 

Author’s note: Buenas, I just want to say a few things, frist this is my frist smut written in english, that leads to the second thing english not my first language I know a bit of the language but still learning so I used a translator from time to time if you see a mistake in the grammar or in general please let me know, I accept criticism but I don’t tolerate hate comments or similar. I probably gonna write more fanficons so I accept request in the future and I in the process of writing a Namor fanfic x!Reader. Gracias enjoy the fic :D

My masterlist.  

Your career as a government agent was going pretty well. Not long ago you had been promoted to a position now you have your own team of agents to lead although you still had to follow orders from your superior, Secretary Ross. you could say that you had done everything to be where you were now, and you knew that one day you would be in a higher position than the one you were currently in, you worked hard to have a record of success in most of your missions, that was one of the reasons why you were given this position, however everything changed when you met your now "enemies" the Thunderbolts.

Thunderbolts was a team similar to yours except they had two supersoldiers, Ava Starr better known as Phantom, Justin Hammer and criminal mastermind who more than once could take you down. While your team was not bad, the problem was that it turns out you were not the best person to lead, since most of your life you had and preferred to work on your own.

Valentina and Ross were on the same path, therefore Thunderbolts and your team ended up on the same mission so you saw them very often, they were a headache for you because you knew you had a half chance of succeeding in the mission and a half chance of losing because of them.

Everyone already knew each other, it was like seeing co-workers who had been together for many years, but as team leader you knew all the opposing team better, especially their leader.

Helmut Zemo.

Being both team leaders you had faced him before, at first you could say you had no opinion of him, after meeting him on a mission where you lost, you began to hate him especially when you realized how much you found yourself thinking about him, you were not going to admit the obvious you had to stay focused on what mattered.

                                                             You weren't a fan of missions that involved having to infiltrate parties and looking like you were enjoying being there, usually these types of missions you would send someone from your team, but this time you had to go, so there you were finishing your fifth drink. You were waiting for the host of the party to come out of his office so you could go and get some files that could put a big f behind bars, you heard in one of your headphones that he had already left his office and that you could move on, so you preferred to go and finish the mission instead of having your sixth drink, you walked straight to where there was a crowd of people dancing.

"I thought you didn't like these kinds of events" you pulled away a little when you saw how close you were to him "I don't I'm here beacuse of work, look like you a really having fun" you said in a mocking tone "I'm here beacuse of work too and your distracting me, can you even fight in that? "You tried to ignore the previous comment even though you still felt that feeling that had become recurrent in your stomach and you knew that he was the reason for your behavior. Your thoughts left you when you heard one of your colleagues telling you to hurry before he went back to his office "I don't have time for this and yes I can fight in this" you said walking to where you should have been a few minutes ago.

You felt someone pulling you by your arm so hard that you ended up glued to the body of the man who had pulled you, obviously it had to be the last person you wanted to see here and who in fact you were expecting to see.

The mansion you were in was so ridiculously big that it took you a little longer to get there, in some corridors there were people around so you had to find another way or wait for them to leave. You were a little more relieved that you were so close, you just had to look for the files and leave being as cautious as possible. Already in front of the door you looked to the sides before placing your hand on the door handle but before you could open the door, you were a little scared since no one had warned you that someone was already inside but your concern was gone when you saw Zemo in the door frame, the two looked at each other for a few minutes, you still did not understand how he had arrived so fast.

"If you are looking for the same as me, good luck, I doubt you will find a copy" whenever he was in advantage or beat you he always put that mocking smile, you saw him walking away while you doubted if you were really looking for the same or were different motives of the mission, but still you went after him, you approached him and he stopped walking when you reached him "Do you really want took me into a fight in that dress?" he asked this time looking at you again from head to toe "Do you want to try me? Baron" he approached you, cornering you in the wall "Do you know I love when you use my title?" you were going to answer him but you both became alert when you heard footsteps and you heard your team warning you that someone was coming in the corridor, obviously it was going to be suspicious to see you two standing near the office and there was no time to go anywhere else.

You grabbed Zemo by his coat and pulled him closer to you, you whispered an almost inaudible "sorry" before you started kissing him, obviously nobody was going to suspect two lovers looking for a place to be alone, at first Zemo was a little astonished he didn't expect you to do that, but he understood that it was to cover the two of you and not to raise suspicions, so he didn't let go of you, his leg got between yours applying some pressure, which made you moan in the kiss, he took the opportunity to dominate more the kiss and taste inside you, you didn't want to admit it but it was the first time you had been kissed so well.

You remembered that this was your chance to look for the files in his coat, your hands traveled through Zemo's coat, trying to find the files but he noticed what you were doing, he took your hands and slammed them against the wall, pulling something out of you between a sigh and a moan, something you were going to regret later "You like that don't you? You like it when someone else takes control" He said close to your lips, you started to move your hips a little on the leg he had between yours, you did it by mere instinct you hadn't even noticed, " Egear are we? " He murmured as he left a path of kisses from your jaw to your neck, you let out a gasp as you felt his wet kisses, your weak legs brought you back to reality and you saw that there was no one but the two of you in the hallway "T- they're already gone" Zemo let go of your wrists "Yes, I know they left like two minutes ago" he left a kiss on your cheek "Looking for this, Draga? "He took out a small usb from his coat and put it back almost immediately, while you were still stunned and bewildered by what had just happened a few seconds ago.

You followed him down another corridor when you had already put your feet on the ground again, when you got to the corner where he had crossed he was not there, you looked around, but it was useless, there was no one there, you walked back from where you came but you saw from afar that a group of people were coming and you saw that from the other side of the corridor as well. For a moment you were paralyzed, but they dragged you to another small room, that looked like a cellar or something similar, the room was only illuminated by the small lines of the shutter that almost completely covered the window of the door.

"What..."

You couldn't finish.

"Shhh."

"Don't shhh to me"

He put his hand on your mouth "Shhhh" you heard murmurs that were going to close where you were, you did not pay attention to what they were talking, you were more focused on watching him even with the little light that came from the hallway, his dark eyes staring at the door where he had you nailed, you saw how he frowned to concentrate on what the other people were talking, his dark hair well combed and how soft it seemed to be, you wanted to pass your hand touching him.

"Enjoying the view?" He ask with that cooky smirt and removed his hand from your mouth "I do, although I preferred the way you looked in the hallway" he tilt his head, his hands went to your hips "You didn't look at me like you hated me... but you don't, do you? Well you did at first, but then you pretended to" Your eyes widened in amazement, after all this time you were still impressed by how capable he was of reading you despite how good you were at pretending.

"Your eyes, your eyes betrayed you" he replied as if he knew what you were going to ask, it was no secret that he no longer saw you as if his gaze could kill you, at first he detested you especially you being the one who had beaten him a few times, but that had been a long time ago.

Your lips approached his, when it finally looked like your lips were about to touch his, he moved a few inches away from you "Tell me what do you want, darling?" You bite your lip, his hand slowly went down to the hem of your dress, caressing your thighs under your dress "Please, please Helmut... Touch me, make me yours please fuck me please" you begged pathetically for the other man to touch you, you never thought you would beg like that for anyone ever in your life, but for him, you didn't mind doing it.

This time it was his lips that found you and he drank you in almost the same way he had done in the past kiss, his kisses went down to your neck and his hands this time went up your dress to your waist and into your panties playing with the now wet fabric, you were about to beg for more, when you heard the rustle of the fabric tearing, You gave a gasp of astonishment that quickly turned into a more erotic one as you felt his fingers in your wet folds "You won't need these" he said finishing removing your panties "You already so wet for me" one of his hands took your leg to lift it a little, your fingernails dug into his shoulders to steady you.

"Don't stop Zemo ples...Ah" Two of his long and thick fingers penetrated into your wet cunt, his fingers curled in that place that made you forget where you were. "Ah" you moaned loudly feeling how his fingers stretched you and at the same time his thumb started massaging circles in your clit. You began to feel that sensation in your belly that indicated your orgasm was beginning to form, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders. His lips so close to yours that you could feel his breaths heaving and he could feel your gasps and moans.

"Zemo... I..." His lips caught your lips in a kiss before you could raise your voice any more, you heard footsteps and murmurs outside, across the hall but they gradually receded. "You have to be a little more quite, my love... As much I would love to hear you, we can't let anyone hear us, do you understand?" Zemo asked you shortly after you came down from your state of pleasure. "Yes, Baron" you said he kissed you again, this time a little shorter "Good girl" you were surprised when he turned and your face pressed into the door, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling as well as the zipper of his pants, one of his hands was on your hip gripping you tightly then you were to find the bruise in the shape of his hand on your hip, with his other hand he said the tip of his cock was moving in your wet folds "Stop teasing me, baron please" a choked moan came from your lips as you felt him slowly penetrate you, it was much bigger than you had thought, your count trembling with the strecht as inch after inch.

You both let out a sigh when he fully stettled, both of his hands on your hips "Fuck, you're so thigt" He whisper in your ear leaving a path of kisses and hickeys in your neck, you moved your head to the side leaving him more space, you let out a loud moan when you felt his teeth penetrating the skin between your neck and shoulder "Oh! Don't mark me you possesive... Oh fuck" you whimper when you felt how he came out completely and penetrated you again in a single movement, his nails dug into your hips while he came out and entered you in a constant pace, Zemo grabbed you by the neck turning your head so he could kiss you, his kisses were hungry, a little violent, you tried to follow the same rhythm as him returning him with kisses full of lust and needy, you didn't separate until you were both out of breath, a loud moan came from your lips when he hit that place that left you wanting more, your back arched and he noticed it by the way your legs weakened and by the way your walls squeezed his cock, his pace this time faster hitting that sweet place. Even though you wanted to be quiet because you were not exactly alone, anyone could pass through the hallway and hear you, but Zemo made it difficult for you to be quiet, his arm grabbed your hips while the other one massaged your clitoris, a gasp escaped your lips from the pleasure he was giving you, it wasn't a few minutes later when you felt your second orgasm come again.

"I'm so close... I'm gonna come" you let out a loud moan "Come for my draga" he grabbed your neck bringing your head to his shoulder, he applied a little pressure to your neck, which brought you to your second orgasm with a sigh and a gasping moan, Zemo waited until your breathing was no longer so agitated and came back with the same pace he had before. You felt his seed fill you deep inside your walls, you heard profanities between Sokovian and Ingles in between cut off by his agitated breathing.

After a few minutes you both had come down from your euphoria, you felt Zemo's lips on your bare shoulder, his short but affectionate kisses were going up to your cheek, his hand grabbed your jaw returning it to his face leaving a soft and affectionate kiss on your lips, you kissed him back, you let out a whimper in the middle of the kiss when he came out of you, you felt his semen going down your thighs "We could have had fun a long time ago... you know it was much better than I had fantasized..." you weren't going to admit that you had also dated him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud at least not today. you know it was much better than I had fantasized" you weren't going to admit that you had also fooled around with him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud to him at least not today. You both began to arrange yourselves to hide any kind of evidence. You looked for your panties on the floor, when you found them they were torn "Great, now I have to go back without underwear thanks Zemo" you said showing him your ruined panties, Zemo took them out of your hands and put them in his coat "I will buy you new ones, and next time I won't tear them" you both left the room and walked down the hall "So now we will do this on every mission we see each other" You smirk devilish "I can't promise you that I won't, but I'd prefer it to be somewhere more private" they both laughed a little "What a strange way to propose a date but ok I'll take it" they both headed for the exit and went their separate ways to where each team was waiting for them, and there Zemo noticed that you had removed the usb.

#zemo x you #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #marvel #fanfic #zemo smut #zemo fanfic #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo #zemo x reader smut #zemo x you smut #zemo x y/n smut #baron zemo x reader smut #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel au #thunderbolts #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl #female reader

[stevesbestgirl]

Marvel Masterlist

Please see under the cut for my Marvel characters masterlist! Current characters include: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Stucky, Natasha Romanoff, Loki, Helmut Zemo, Steven Grant, and Johnny Storm. This also includes my Eddie/Venom fic (It took place when they were in the MCU, so it counts). Enjoy!

Find my main Masterlist here!

Because it needs to be said, no one has my permission to translate or repost my fics anywhere.

Key:

🔥 - smut

❤ - fluff

💀 - angst (always with a happy ending because I am soft)

💫 - my favorites

One Shots:

Drunk Enough (Steve Rogers x Reader) ❤ 💫

-> Star Spangled (Steve Rogers x Reader) ❤

Teamwork (Steve Rogers x GN!Reader)  ❤

Series:

A Moment of Your Time (Mob!Bucky x f!Reader) ❤ 🔥

One Shots:

A Walk in the Park (Bucky x f!Reader)  🔥

Shades of Gray (FATWS!Bucky x enhanced!Flagsmasher!Reader) 💀

Sunshine (ex!Bucky x Reader) 💀❤

Hooked (Captain Hook!Bucky x Lost!Reader) 💀❤

Last Call (Biker!Bucky x f!Reader) ❤ 💫

Shooting Blind (Bucky x Reader)  ❤ 💫

In the Pit (Pit Boss!Bucky x f!Reader)  🔥

Secrets (Bucky Barnes x f!Reader)  ❤

One Shots

Dolled Up (Stucky x f!Reader) 🔥 💫

Late Nights (Stucky x f!Reader)  🔥 💫

Performance Review (CEO!Stucky x Reader) ❤

Down to Business (dark!CEO!Stucky x Reader) ❤

The Auction (Mafia!Stucky x Reader) ❤ 🔥 💫

Part 1 Part 2

Sticky Notes (Stucky x Reader)  ❤

Series:

Vanaheim Storms (Loki x f!Reader)  ❤ 💫 Completed

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

One Shots:

Bock Haben (Zemo x f!Reader) 🔥 💫

Blind Date with Daddy!Zemo (Daddy!Zemo x F!Reader) ❤

One Shots:

Don't Be Afraid (Steven Grant x Reader) 💀❤

Excited (Steven Grant x Reader) ❤🔥

Love Languages with the Moon Boys  ❤

Series:

Phases of the Moon (Steven Grant x f!Reader)  ❤

Masterlist

One Shots:

We Are Drunk (Eddie/Venom x f!Reader) 🔥

Drabbles:

There Was One Bed (Johnny Storm X f!Reader)  ❤

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #helmut zemo x reader #loki x reader #steven grant x reader #eddie brock x reader #venom x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #moon knight x reader #masterlist #mine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[undercoverpena]

interesting

I decided, thanks to some kind souls in my DMs to indulge. I know he’s not why many of you are here, but if you’re a fan of wcrp, you’ll know how much I loved writing zemo.

helmut zemo x f!reader summary: zemo wants you alone. you want him. an: alludes to smut, this man owns me rn, or has done for a while. WC: 1.1k part two

++++++++++++++++

Helmut Zemo has done bad things.

He knows this. Accepts it.

He would argue he isn’t a bad person. Even if his actions, his choices dictate him as one.

Which is why he shouldn’t have kissed you.

But now he has, he can’t stop thinking about it.

The two of you could have sold the lie to Selby with words alone. He’s heard you talk, heard how you can wrap those around your finger in many languages. He also knows the kiss had been an easy out—one which stirred something that didn’t need stirring.

And now the two of you are alone.

Again.

Which is why he pours himself a drink, something strong, something with an amber shade. He considers downing it before refilling, but decides instead to pour you one.

Because he’s hospitable.

He stares at the back of your head, hating how hard you’re pretending to be indifferent. Despising that you’re pretending you’re not unravelling too—because he knows you are.

For a long time, knowing, and understanding people, was his business.

Which is why he’s moving across the room until he’s beside you, offering out the crystal-cut glass to you.

“Drink?”

If your surprised, you don’t show it. Likely instead chanting that ‘You should hate him.’ And maybe, you should. Even as the dark orange liquid sloshes when your hand takes it.

“Thought it would make being around me more… interesting?”

He hears you scoff as he sits on the opposite corner, hearing it followed by the noticeable sound of ice meeting the glass when you take a sip. Because the room is silent, holding its own breath as though waiting for the two of you to snap.

Not that he’ll be the one to do so first.

And, from what he can tell of you, you’re going to hold out as long as you can before you do. He can tell, from the way you avoid his eyes, even as he sits in your peripheral at the other corner of the sofa, enough of a distance, but not enough to likely stop your cheeks from burning, ears and chest wanting to follow suit.

“I don’t need interesting.”

He studies you.

Because he knows you do.

He’s not sure he’s met another soul who needs interesting, who is more bored than him.

But, he’s bored because he made a choice—took revenge. A choice he never regrets, but wonders if he could have done it differently, smarter. Had his cake and eaten it too.

He knows why he’s bored, but he can’t quite place why you are. His dark eyes scanning over you, wondering if the answer is just beneath a layer or two.

Like the fact that you keep pretending that, in another world, in another life, you likely wouldn’t have this faux-hate when it comes to him. One he can sense.

The same as he did on the plane, when the others slept.

When you looked at him, without trying to look at him.

When you smirked when he spoke Sokovian, when he made a comment about your book and your eyes shimmered as if finally meeting someone who challenged you.

It would be a lie to say he didn’t think the same. It had been a long time since he’d met someone with plump lips and curves who could make his brain work harder, and not just smarter.

“You don’t feel it’s necessary to… what did James say, babysit me?”

It would be easy to ignore him. Easier.

But, from the way your shoulders tense, he can tell you’re not one for preservation, not one to back down from a fight.

It’s the very reason he suspects that you’re here, wrapped up in international issues and gallivanting without worries of breaking the laws in cities he suspects you’d love to explore.

“I don’t.”

“Because you don’t believe I can do harm?”

You smile, but he’s not sure they’re at his words—or his digging. “You blew up a building, meaning you are, by definition, harmful.”

He tilts his head, not vanishing the smile which begins to grace his lips. Because he sees it. Before you speak it.

“But, no. I don’t believe you’ll do harm here. To us…”

“To you?” He adds.

Motioning the glass to swirl, before taking a sip, a delicate—almost hidden—smirk behind it. One that is taking more effort than he likes to keep hidden.

Especially when he realises that your pressing your thighs together, that your eyes keep darting from his to his lips. The same as his do, when you’re not paying as much attention.

A devious, and clever game of cat and mouse.

He has to wonder if it’s his features or his chivalry which has caught you by surprise. Remembering your surprise when he asked if he could wrap his arm around you during the showdown in the seedy bar.

As though you hadn’t considered he’d be kind.

“Would you? Harm me, I mean?” You ask, smirking as you take another sip.

He watches you, noticing how you don’t shudder this time, noticing how you’re growing used to the taste. Something which both makes him smirk and spread his thighs.

Leaning back, he swallows, sweeping his eyes over you. Letting the silence sit, just for a moment.

“Not intentionally.”

You nod, short, brief. Before you drain your glass, placing it down on the table, meeting his eyes with the same determination he’s usually sporting whenever he finds himself around you.

“I think you’ve been locked up for so long, you wouldn’t know how to harm a woman. Not in the way you’re insinuating,” you add.

He hears the way you are slowing down your words by just a touch, elongating some, but not all.

“I would never question whether you could kill one, maim one. I’ve seen the evidence of that. But I’m not sure you remember how to please one.”

He swallows before he’s aware, he can feel heat spreading across his stomach. A growing need running through his veins.

“You should be careful.”

“Doesn’t seem interesting,” you retort.

And the corner of his lips twitch, an almost smile. “No. I suppose it doesn’t.”

Your eyes narrow, in either confusion or surprise, he isn’t sure.

“But, Liebling. If you want to know whether I would be able to fuck you, like you so need, all you have to do is ask.”

Your smirk falls, lips parting. He watches as you shift in your seat, thighs pressing together more than before.

He drains his own glass, placing it down on the table, the sound vibrating across the room.

“I think now is when you should use your words, Liebling.”

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #Helmut Zemo smut #Helmut Zemo x reader smut #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #zemo x you #daniel Brühl x Reader

[adulting-sucks]

Captain Asshat Lives Here

Summary: You saved Steve, however he is living up to being America’s Asshat. Will you two ever get along? A slow burn

Steve Rogers x Female Enhanced Reader

Warnings: 18+ please. Smut (oral m and f receiving, p in v, fingers galore), mentions of Rape and forced loss of pregnancy, torture, and kind of mean Steve.

Word count: 8.5 K, I’m sorry that I have no chill

I have to thank @peyton-warren , who has helped me get this out of my brain and onto this page, and for betaing this multiple times for me. You are a godsend, you’ve helped me more than you know. Story is under the cut.

Next Part: Where There's a Bucky, There's an Asshat

You ran, blood dripping from the stab wound in your leg, trying to lose the asshole chasing you through the trees. Steve fucking Rogers just couldn’t leave well enough alone, and now he cost you this Hydra base, along with a pint of blood. He wasn’t even aware of your presence until you saved his ass from the knife. You’re welcome, you thought, your lungs burning from lack of oxygen.

You heard the shield before you saw it, dodging and rolling to the side just in time. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he going after you when you clearly weren’t the enemy? If you ever saw Bucky again, you were going to have a long talk about his choice in friends and colleagues.

You started to feel light headed, you blood pressure suddenly plunging. You looked down at your wound, the blood seeping out even faster, the wound now torn even more, most likely from the stop, drop, and roll you just did. You tried applying more pressure to your wound, tearing a strip of your shirt off the bottom to tie around it. You looked up, Rogers standing over you, telling you not to move.

“Fuck. One of you is bad enough, three of you is a fucking nightmare,” you reply just before passing out. Steve stooped down, applying a pressure wrap to your wound while calling for an extraction. He looked down at you, wondering why you saved him. He didn’t know who you were, but he was sure as hell going to find out.

————————————————————

“What have we got, Captain Rogers, and since when do you bring home strays ?” Doc asked, meeting Steve at the bay doors to help transport you to the emergency med bay. Sam and Clint pushed the bed you were cuffed to past Steve and Doc as he gave her the rundown.

“She’s got a large stab wound to her leg. I tried to put as much pressure on it as possible, but it’s pretty deep. She lost consciousness before I got her on the jet. I have no idea who she is, but that knife was meant for me and she took the hit,” Steve said, staring at you with curiosity and distrust.

“Let me take a look at her and see what were dealing with” Doc said, removing the pressure dressing as she stared at your wounded leg. “Holy fuck. Captain, I thought you and Buck were the only super soldiers left after Zemo cleared the rest out.” She pulled the pressure wrap off, finding a semi healed wound, the skin pink and raised on the outside, the gash already connected and healing with new tissue.

“We are, why do you ask?” Steve responded, apprehension written all over his features. He stopped the conversation he was having with Sam and Clint and came over to the side of the bed Doc was on.

“I ask because her wound is almost completely healed. The knife clipped her femoral artery, she should have bled out long before now.” Doc looked you over from head to toe, seeing if there were any other wounds she may have missed. You had a few scattered bruises, but those looked almost completely healed.

“Who the hell is she, and what the fuck is going on?” Steve asked himself, trying to figure out what your place in all of this was. As Doc was checking your pupillary reflex, Steve texted Bucky to head down to the med bay immediately.

“What’s so important, Steve? Wizard and I were just in the middle of something,” Bucky said as he entered the room. “Hey beautiful,” Bucky murmured, kissing Doc on the forehead.

“Hey handsome,” Doc replied, stopping to smile at her soldier. “Are we still for dinner and dancing tonight?”

“Since when does Rusty Bucket know how to dance?” Sam said, causing Clint and Doc to laugh. Bucky shot a warning glance at Sam and threw the closest object to him, a bedpan, at the bird man’s head.

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent dancer, right Steve?” Bucky defended, twirling Doc under his arm before dipping her back and placing a kiss on her neck.

“Yeah, fantastic. Can we get back to work please?” Steve retorted, his gaze focused on you. “Bucky, were there any other super soldiers Zemo may have missed?” Steve turned to face his friend, concern etched in his features.

“All work and no play makes Steve a dull boy,” Clint teased as he made his way out of the room before Steve could reprimand him. Sam followed suit, twirling and bowing to Bucky as the metal hand flipped Sam the bird.

“Not that I know….holy fuck. Steve, where did you find her?” Bucky asked urgently, moving to your bedside. “It can’t be, she died,” he said to himself.

————————————————————

You slowly opened your eyes, the bright lights of the room harsh, the sound of the heart monitor steady, starting to speed up the more conscious you became, your fight or flight kicking in when you realized you were restrained. You had worked too hard for this to happen again, you would die before letting Hydra experiment on you again.

“Hey, hey, relax. It’s Bucky, you’re going to hurt yourself.” You had started thrashing, unable to hear anything above your heart pounding in your ears. You felt hands grab you, making you fight even more.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!” you screamed, kicking Steve in the face since your legs weren’t restrained. “YOU BETTER FUCKING KILL ME THIS TIME! I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS TO ME AGAIN!”

“What the fuck?!” Steve yelled, rubbing his jaw where your foot connected. He looked in your eyes where he saw nothing but anger and fear. Who were you yelling at, and what did they do to you? The only other person he had seen react this way was Bucky when he was still the Winter Soldier.

“Okay, that’s it. Everyone except Bucky get out,” Doc demanded for your benefit as you struggled like a wild animal. When you heard Doc say Bucky, you looked to your side, your face flooding with recognition and relief. Bucky moved to remove your restraints while Doc cleared the room.

“Are you seriously removing her restraints? She just kicked me in the face!” Steve yelled, shaking Doc off as he watched Bucky.

“Can’t say it wasn’t deserved,” Doc mumbled as she once again ordered Steve out. He finally turned and left, making his concerns known the entire time.

“Bucky, where am I? Did they get us again? I thought you got out,” you said, reaching out to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. It was a ritual between the two of you during your time with Hydra. Bucky reached out and touched your face also, confirming he was in fact real.

“I did, I got out and got better, all because of you,” he said, tears falling freely down his face. “They told me you were dead. I looked for you, but when there was no trace, I buried you.”

“I had to die to make them stop. Did you make it to Wakanda?? I reached out to Shuri when I heard you were out. I knew she would be the only one who could help you,” you replied, dropping your hands from Bucky’s face, your eyes moving to Doc, anxiety instantly rising at the sight of the stranger.

“That was you?” Bucky quietly asked, moving closer to Doc to show you could trust her. “I made it. I am no longer Soldat. I also got a fucking goat and new arm out of the deal too,” he chuckled. Your eyes drifted back to him, then back to Doc. Your heart healed just a little when you saw the love shine in Doc’s eyes as she looked at her super soldier.

“This is Doc, she is the doctor on staff here and also my girl,” Bucky said as a way of introduction between the two of you. “Is it okay if she takes a look at you, just to make sure you’re okay and healed correctly?” Bucky asked.

You looked over at Doc, appreciative of her allowing you to move at your own pace. You nodded your head, throwing a tentative smile her way as she moved closer.

“How did you end up in the same area as Steve?” Bucky asked as Doc listened to your lungs and heart. She then flashed the penlight in your eyes, making you wince.

“You mean Captain Asshat?” you replied, irritated by the mere mention of him. “I was following up on a lead for that Hydra base, and Asshat got in the way. I fucking got stabbed for him and he couldn’t even be bothered to say think you.” You pulled your pants back up while Bucky and Doc laughed at your colorful description of their friend, knowing just how uptight and stubborn he could be.

“He’s not that bad, he just doesn’t trust easily, especially with anything that has to do with Hydra,” Bucky advised, even more amused when you rolled your eyes and started pouting. He knew you and Steve were pretty much the same person and couldn’t wait to see how this turned out.

“Whatever. I’m just saying, a thank you for taking a hit never hurt anyone.” Doc laughed as she finished up, amused not only by your commentary, but also at seeing the anger on Steve’s face as he walked in and overheard you.

“Why would I thank you? I didn’t ask you to do anything for me,” Steve answered, irritation lacing his reply which earned him another eye roll, completely exaggerated to anger him further. You looked at Bucky, whispering for him not to say anything to Steve about you. Not yet at least, as you didn’t fully trust Asshat either.

“Doc, when you clear her, I need her for questioning,” Steve said, ignoring your theatrics. Bucky sat smiling, loving that Steve was getting a run for his money. You stuck your tongue out at the Captain behind his back, immediately plastering a fake smile on your face when Steve turned around trying to figure out what was so funny to Bucky.

“I’d like to keep her overnight, even though she’s already healed, just as a precaution. If she’s up to it and agrees, you may speak with her tomorrow,” Doc answered, knowing how pushy Steve could be when working. You shot Doc a look of appreciation for treating you like a human and not a prisoner.

Steve wasn’t happy with her reply, but he knew better than to argue with the good doctor. He’d made that mistake one time, and only one time after he questioned her treatment of Bucky after a particularly difficult and dangerous mission. He then had to deal with Bucky when he regained consciousness and was informed by Doc of what had transpired. Nope, he would not do that again. He may be stubborn, but he did not have a death wish.

“Fine, she can rest tonight.” Steve conceded. He turned and walked away, his face red, features skewed with agitation.

“How considerate of you, Captain Asshat. I will forever be indebted to you for this kindness,” you mocked, sarcasm dripping from every word spoken. You bowed to Steve, laughing when he stopped walking and looked at you, rage turning his face red.

“Why are you like this?” Steve asked, his jaw clenched, hands balled into fists as he stared at you. “I did you a favor bringing you here, you should have a little more consideration and class.”

“Okay, put the claws away,” Bucky grumbled, moving between the two of you before any physical fighting could start. “As much as this amuses me, you two are going to have to try and get along.” Bucky pushed Steve out the med bay doors, nodding his head as he listened to his oldest friend vent about you.

Doc chuckled, extremely amused by the fact that you and Steve were perfect for each other, you just hadn’t realized it yet. “Come on, there’s an extra room on my floor where you can clean up and get some sleep. I’ll have Bucky bring you some clothes to change into.”

You and Doc talked a little, typical small talk, getting to know you questions, until you reached the floor. As Doc led you to your room, she turned around and said “He isn’t as bad as you think he is. Steve is actually very kind, and he cares for everyone with a big, open heart. Be gentle with him. His heart is fragile.” She turned and walked to her apartment, leaving you to your thoughts. Maybe she was right, maybe you were being too hard on Asshat. You would stop eventually, but right now it was just too entertaining.

————————————————————

It started the way it always did. The flashbacks of torture, experiments performed with no anesthesia, the mind erasure performed anytime you let even a hint of non compliance slip through, the tortured screams of Bucky, your only friend and comfort during these moments. You heard screaming, thinking this was just part of the nightmare, not realizing this was actually you screaming as you slept.

You felt Bucky before you heard him, his grip on your shoulders tight as he tried to wake you. “Hey, hey, come back. It’s a nightmare, come back,” he yelled, trying to make you hear him above your own piercing screams.

Doc slapped you across your cheek, purely to shock your system and bring you out of your nightmare. You opened your eyes, sweat pouring down your face, your eyes taking a minute to focus on the people in front of you.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, and swallowed a deep breath. Your entire body was trembling, almost as if you had a fever and your body was chilled.

“Hey. It’s just the nightmares, remember?” Bucky asked, pulling your hands to rest on his cheeks to show you he was real. You nodded your head, inhaling, exhaling, allowing the nightmare to end.

“Come on. Bucky has Wizard for moments just like this,” Doc said, walking towards the door. Bucky smiled reassuringly, holding his hand out to help you up.

“Wizard?” You followed apprehensively yet curious. “What the fuck is a Wizard and why do you have one?” you say softly, talking to yourself out loud. You see Doc open the door, and when you hear Wizard bleat, you can’t help the squeal that escapes your throat.

“Holy shit. You really do have a fucking goat!” you exclaim, dropping to your knees as Wizard throws his head into your hands. You instantly feel relaxed, the tension slipping out of your body as you pet the goat. “Shuri always did love her goats.” You chuckle as Wizard starts to nibble on your hair, his tongue running up the side of your face.

“Did she try to send you home with one too?” Bucky asked, doubled over in laughter. Doc sat on the other side of Wizard, who turned around and nuzzled the other woman affectionately.

“She tried, but I had other plans. I told her as soon as I had completed my mission, I would come back and take one home with me, wherever that ends up being.” The three of you were so wrapped up in Wizard and sharing memories of Wakanda, you missed a certain Captain standing down the hall.

Steve had heard the screams, thinking Bucky was having one of his nightmares, which he hadn’t had since Doc came into his life. He then feared your sudden appearance had triggered the nightmares again, and assumed this little meeting was Doc comforting Bucky.

Steve wanted to stay and listen, his distrust of you growing stronger every time you talked back or acted like a brat. And he was most definitely not an Asshat. As he felt his blood pressure rise, he decided to head to the gym to blow off some steam. He stopped when he heard Bucky’s voice, but didn’t feel right listening in on his friend.

“So, do you want to talk about them?” Bucky asked softly, concern etched in his handsome features. You refused to look at him, scared your emotions would explode, making you weaker than you already were. No. You didn’t want to talk. Wizard sensed your anxiety, moving to sit on your lap, like a dog, and eat your socks. It was oddly comforting, allowing you to relax.

“It was bad after you left, Bucky. They knew I had helped you escape and they made me pay.” You tried your best to harden your emotions, emotions made you weak, but even you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. With Doc on your left, Wizard in your lap, and Bucky in front, you started to tell your story.

“Every day was a new form of torture. They tried to give me powers the way they did with the Maximoff twins, but nothing ever worked. When they failed, I would be beaten. It ranged from punching to electrocution and drowning. There was one guard assigned to watch me every night. And every night, he did more than watch.” You stopped, unable to say the word. Even now, you couldn’t escape the trauma of what he did to you.

“Well, I ended up in a family way, and Hydra wasn’t happy. They stopped the growth, removing the offending part, no anesthesia or care given. Once I’d stopped bleeding, they decided to to try a new brand of torture: asphyxiation. They would squeeze until my heart and breathing stopped, only to bring me back with electrical shocks.” You gazed down at Wizard, unable to look Bucky or Doc in the eye. This was the first time you’d ever spoken about what happened, and it would also be the last.

“They let me escape, not knowing I’d been training myself to slow my heartbeat for as long as possible. If they thought I was dead, they would be done with me. And it worked. After I they threw my body out, I ran as fast as I could, trying to reach any of my old contacts for help. I managed to reach one, and he got me to Shuri. Shuri broke whatever hold Hydra had, but she couldn’t reverse the serum. I’m okay with that now, I think it saved my life. I started taking them down, until Asshat got in the way.”

Bucky looked at you, knowing better than to show any pity. You weren’t weak, you weren’t defenseless, and he was nothing but proud of you and amazed by you. Doc quietly cried in the corner, trying to hide as she didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“It’s okay, Doc. I cried my tears a long time ago. I’m okay.” Wizard bleated, sensing the need for a break in the tension. Everyone laughed, you dropping a pet and kiss on the little goat’s head. “On that note, I’m going for a run before Cap comes for me.” You got up and waved to the others, heading to your room to change and leave. A run would do you some good, hopefully clearing your head before the Dapper Douche came to collect you.

“How long do you think it will take these idiots to see they are perfect for each other?” Doc asked Bucky, laying her head on his shoulder as she pet Wizard. She heard Bucky’s chuckle rumble in his chest as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“They are the most stubborn people I have ever met, so I’m assuming it will hit them like a bulldozer at the worst possible moment.”

Bucky stood up and offered his hands to Doc to help her up. “I am quite wired though, so maybe I’ll head to the gym and burn off some of this energy,” Bucky said as he walked back to their shared apartment.

“I have a way for you to burn off some energy, Sergeant,” Doc replied, pulling her super soldier towards their bedroom. “Not only will it be cardio, but we’ll also work those core muscles.” Bucky’s laughter carried down the hall as the couple shut themselves in for their workout.

————————————————————

You’d just walked into the kitchen, fresh from your ten mile run, stopping at the fridge to grab something to drink. You heard footsteps behind you, and an all too familiar sigh. With a roll of your eyes, you turned around to face the very annoyed captain.

“What did I do now, Captain Ass?” you asked, your smile fake and plastered so wide, your wisdom teeth were visible.

“Can you start a conversation without insults?” he asked, his distaste written all over his face. “I saved your life, you could be a little grateful.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right. Let me try this again. Thank you so much for getting in my way, forcing me to take a stab for you because you weren’t paying attention. Thank you for kidnapping me then treating me like an enemy as I lay unconscious. And thank you for making me feel so incredibly fucking welcome with your questions. Did I cover everything?” you asked, taking a drink from your bottle of water, thrilled at the anger twisting over Steve’s face, his cheeks red.

“Why should I trust you? I never asked you to save me. You were at a fucking Hydra base, but I’m supposed to believe you aren’t on their side?” Steve yelled, causing you to flinch.

“You don’t know anything about me, Captain,” you replied, anger in your voice, your body starting to shake. You curled your hands into fists at your side, your nails creating bloody craters in your palms. You felt your blood pressure rise, heat flushing your entire body.

“You’re right, I don’t. Let’s be honest, you haven’t been very forthcoming either. And that makes me think you work for Hydra, that your ‘sweet’ demeanor is just a means to an end, just like your ‘friendship’ with Bucky!”

Steve moved closer, causing you to step back until you were trapped between him and the wall, one arm on each side of your head. You started to feel the familiar panic start at not being able to escape, your heart pounding, vision blurring with tears. “Back. Off.” you said, jaw clenched so hard your teeth were grinding.

“Why? So you can run and tell everyone how the mean old Captain yelled at you? Tell me what the fuck you’re doing here, and maybe I’ll back off. Otherwise, we can head to a cell and you can stay there until you’re ready to tell the truth,” Steve sneered, ecstatic at your reaction. Steve thought he was making you angry, so angry you might slip up, not realizing you were actually terrified.

“No, please. Don’t lock me up,” you said, your voice strained and quiet. You didn’t know you were crying until you felt the tears run down your neck, landing on the back of your hands. “Can’t be locked up again…please, please move,” you whispered, pushing on Steve’s chest. Even with your super strength, you had a hard time moving the man. When you couldn’t get free, you dropped to the floor, your knees pulled up to your chest as you rocked back and forth repeating nonsense.

“What the fuck kind of game are you playing?” Steve yelled, grabbing your arm to force you to stand. You pulled your arm out of his grasp, screaming for him to leave you alone. With a wild look in your eyes, you beat your fists on his chest yelling for him to move, to stop, to never touch you again.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Doc yelled as she ran into the room. “Steve, what the fuck are you doing? Back off, now!” Doc demanded, grabbing your arms and turning you to look at her. It took a moment, but once you realized Doc was the one touching you, you stopped fighting, immediately breaking down as she hugged you.

“What in the entire fuck is wrong with you? Bucky, you better come get Rogers before I knock his ass out!” Doc yelled to the Sergeant, steering you towards her med bay.

“You couldn’t just leave her alone? You had to push and push. You have no idea what she has been through, Steve. No fucking clue!” Bucky reprimanded. “What Hydra did to me doesn’t even scratch the surface of what they did to her!”

“Wait, she was a prisoner? Like you?” Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck and dropping his eyes in shame. He’d had no idea, hadn’t even bothered to give you a chance to explain. “Bucky, tell me what the fuck is going on here. Who is this woman?” Bucky started to tell Steve about your time together when he was the Winter Soldier, how you defended him, helped him escape, how you were tortured and raped, left for dead. He explained that Wakanda had been your doing, and how if you hadn’t been there, he never would have been released from Hydra’s control.

Steve’s face drained of all color as Bucky continued. How could he have been so blind? You weren’t the bad guy, you were trying to erase Hydra, saving his life was because you were on the same side, not because you had an ulterior motive. “Fuck, Bucky. What have I done?” Steve said, completely embarrassed and regretful. He’d never acted this way towards anyone before, but he’d treated you no better than Hydra had. He was so ashamed and angry.

“You need to make this right, Steve,” Bucky said as he walked away, heading towards the lab to check on you. Steve moved to the living room, sinking down on the couch, trying to figure out how to make things right. He’d never been so wrong before, so judgemental. He of all people, knew what it was like to be judged and bullied, yet here he was, acting every bit the bully. Bucky was right, he had to fix this, no matter what. He decided to go for a to clear his head and come up with an apology.

————————————————————

When Doc got you into the med bay, you were completely incoherent and in shock, suffering a panic attack from Rogers badgering. Doc pulled up two milligrams of Ativan, giving you the injection in your left ass cheek to help calm you down. Fucking Steve Rogers. While she loved him, she also knew how stubborn he could be, especially with someone he saw as a threat to those he loved.

You closed your eyes and slipped into unconsciousness, the medication taking immediate effect. Bucky walked in to check on you, relief flooding him immediately as he saw you sedated. He asked Doc how you were, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.

Doc let loose a stream profanities and threats, ending with one Steven Grant Rogers being neutered if his attitude didn’t change immediately. Bucky laughed, falling even more in love with his girl.

“I know he means well, that he’s protecting those he cares about, but she is a victim and he treated her like a criminal. She did nothing to him, NOTHING!” Doc screamed, tears streaming down her face.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. I talked to him. He knows now, and he looked devastated. He knows he was acting out of character. I don’t think he’s figured out why, though,” Bucky said.

“Well, he better figure it out soon if he wants to keep his balls,” Doc grumbled. “Speaking of the fucking devil,” she said as Steve entered the med bay.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve said, holding his hands up in surrender. “White flag. I fucked up, I know it. Can I sit with her?” Steve asked quietly, looking over at you. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, he just knew he had to try. He sat in the chair on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. Steve had no idea what had gotten into him.

“You upset her, even the tiniest bit, I will remove your balls and shove them so far up your ass, your mouth will get pregnant,” Doc warned as Bucky pulled her out of the room, unable to hold back his laughter. A threat from Doc was like a hiss from a spicy, cute kitten. Steve grabbed your hand and rested his forehead on it, waiting for you to wake up.

————————————————————

Your hand felt warm, very warm and very heavy. Why was your hand so warm and the rest of you chilled? Why couldn’t you move your hand? Why couldn’t you open your eyes? Something squeezed your hand causing you to squeeze it back.

“Hi.” You slowly opened your eyes, trying to turn your head towards the source, your head foggy from the medication. As your eyes started to focus on those annoying baby blues, you tried pulling your hand away.

Steve squeezed your hand again, begging you to stop and listen. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but I am so sorry.” He grabbed your other hand, enveloping both of yours in his, his eyes pleading with you. You nodded your head, allowing him to continue.

“I don’t know what came over me, and I know that is no excuse. I cannot apologize nearly enough for my behavior. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’m hoping you and I can start over.” He raised those puppy dog eyes, sincerity shining through.

“Bucky told you, didn’t he?” you said, unable to hold eye contact. You were familiar with what pity looked like and you didn’t want it from anyone, but especially not from Steve. You weren’t sure why, but you wanted him to see you as strong, not weak and broken. “You don’t need to pity me, I’ve made it this far.”

He squeezed your hands again. “Hey, look at me. I don’t pity you, not at all. I think you are amazing. You are strong, resilient, and if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my best friend with me right now.” As he stared at you, he couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment at his admission. He dropped your hands, rubbing the back of his neck, anxiously waiting for you to speak.

“I forgive you, Asshat. And I’m sorry too. I just had way too much fun pushing your buttons…”

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you alone…”

You both looked at each other as you spoke at the same time. “You…you don’t have to leave, you know, if you want to talk or something,” you offered, trying to spend more time with this infuriating man. Who you noticed had amazing eyes, wonderful arms, hands that you wanted running over every inch of your body…oh, what the fuck was happening to you.

Steve sat back down, smiling at the invitation to stay. He never noticed how pretty your eyes were, never noticed how your hair enhanced the color even more. Your neck was so inviting, and he found himself wanting to kiss and nip down to your collarbone, over your breasts. He stopped, his eyes moving back to your face, scared that he’d been caught checking you out like a teenager.

You both turned at the sound of the med bay door opening, glad for the interruption as both of your minds had started going down a different road.

“Is the war over?” you heard Bucky ask, slowly walking in just in case anything went flying. Bucky knew your temper and also knew your habit of throwing objects at peoples heads when angry. Bucky took in the scene around him, looking at both you and Steve, expressions on both of your faces flustered and embarrassed. He smiled very wide when he realized just what he’d interrupted.

“I’m going to head to my room…”

“I need to go see what Sam is up to…” you and Steve said at the same time as you walked away.

Doc walked in just as you two left, asking Bucky how things were going in here, checking to see if any of the equipment would need replacing. Bucky just smiled, wrapping his arms around Doc and kissing her neck. “I think they’re finally figuring it out,” he chuckled as he led you out of the room.

————————————————————

“What the fuck is happening to me?” you asked Wizard, feeding the goat a slice of apple, while he stared at you. “I know, I know, I’m a moron.” You continued your conversation, completely unaware that Steve was standing right outside the door.

Steve stood listening to your commentary, smiling to himself. He’d just been having this conversation with himself, making the decision to talk to you about whatever was happening. He didn’t know exactly when his feelings began to shift; if he was being completely honest, you’d been on his mind since he met you. You stepped in front of a knife for him, you challenged him at every turn and never backed down, and you had a strength about you that was so quiet yet so powerful.

“He wouldn’t see me in the same light I do him, not after someone like Peggy Carter. Or hell, even Sharon. I most definitely do not compare to women of that stature. No one wants the broken box of crayons.” You giggled as Wizard nibbled your cheek, trying to get more apples from you. “Okay, maybe you would want the broken crayons because they probably all taste the same.”

“Is that what you honestly believe? That I see you as broken?” Steve asked, walking into the room and kneeling to pet Wizard. He looked at your face, staring into your eyes, trying to ascertain your true thoughts. You dropped your gaze, shame and embarrassment flooding your body.

“Were you eavesdropping, Asshat?” You held another slice of apple out to your furry friend, needing his comfort for this conversation as vulnerability was never your strongest moment. You rarely allowed yourself the chance to be in this position, never wanting to be seen as weak in the eyes of those around you. You may be a super soldier, but it didn’t stop your insecurities.

“Is that what you think? You honestly think I see you as broken?” Steve asked, grasping your chin to make you look at him, ignoring the chomps Wizard was bestowing on his shirt.

“You are resilient, selfless, a pain in the fucking ass, sarcastic, but above all, you’re just you,” Steve continued, his bright blues shining with honesty. You tried to look away, suddenly shy, your discomfort fading into something else.

You looked at Steve’s lips, then back to his eyes, slowly finding yourself leaning in closer unintentionally.

Steve started leaning in also, slowly closing his eyes as both your faces inched closer and closer, your heart beating so loudly, you know he heard it. To be fair, you could also hear his, enhanced hearing and all.

Just as your lips touched, as you felt his breath fanning your mouth, so close you could taste the mint from his toothpaste…just as you finally kissed this pain in your ass, Wizard popped between you two, nibbling on your cheek, then turning to do the same to Steve’s nose.

You both laughed, doubling over as Wizard continued to yell for attention and food. With tears streaming down your face, you turned to see Doc and Bucky standing in the doorway, amusement all around. You looked back at Steve, placing your hands on his cheek, your forehead pressed to his, needing to reassure yourself of him being there, just as you did with Bucky.

“Thank you for being real,” you whispered.

————————————————————

The next few weeks were something you’d never experienced: calm and peaceful. You and Steve spent a lot of time getting to know each other, going for runs, watching TV, working out, sparring. Your feelings blossomed, but the best thing about the entire situation is how he was willing to go at your pace.

After everything that had happened, your assault and the events that followed mainly, you didn’t know if you’d ever feel desire again, especially sexually. Although you knew it wasn’t your fault, it still made you feel as if you were less than, leading to feeling broken. But Steve put you back together, sealing your cracks and pieces with twenty four karat gold, like the Japanese did with their valuables, proving nothing is ever truly broken. Some cracks just need to be filled and brought together.

Everything was so great and you were finally happy, which is why the lie hurt you so much. It was a small lie, maybe more of a hidden truth, but it cut deep nonetheless.

You’d just finished your morning run, and headed to the kitchen to grab some water when you heard the conversation. You stopped, not wanting the other two super soldiers to hear you, or sense your presence.

“Do we have confirmation this is actually a Hydra base?” you heard Steve ask as you watched him rub his face in frustration.

“Yeah, we got confirmation from Hill today,” Sam said. You felt your body stiffen, fear pumping through your veins. You’d almost allowed yourself to forget about all of this, living in a bubble filled with bliss. For the first time in a long time, you’d allowed yourself to forget, but you always knew the other shoe would drop.

“Fury wants us out in an hour. But no one tells anyone else about this mission. I don’t want her spiraling back down to where she was before,” Steve said.

You heard him sigh, and you understood why he was asking everyone to lie to you , but it didn’t hurt any less. You left, your mind and heart battling the other, however you knew what you had to do. You headed to your room, changed, and leaving before they realized you were gone

After changing, you wrote a quick note, placing it on your nightstand, then made your way down to the plane hangar, needing to commandeer one if you were going to beat the men.

You stopped the first crewman you saw. “Hey, Justin,” you said, reading the name tag hanging from his coveralls. “Hill has me going on a mission, are any of the jets ready to go?” You plastered your face with the biggest smile you could muster, batting your eyes. Justin returned your smile, pointing you to the left.

You thanked him, making your way over to the jet. You performed all checks, (it wouldn’t do you any good to die before you reached the base), plugged in your destination coordinates, and took off. You may not make it out, but you’d sure as fuck go down swinging.

————————————————————

Steve made his way down the hall to your room, wanting to see you before he left. As he waited for you to answer his knock, he took a deep breath, holding it in, thinking about what he was going to tell you.

He knocked again, and again. After his third attempt, he opened your door, worried something had happened. As he looked around your room, calling your name, his eyes fell to the note you’d written before you left.

As he read your words, his heart dropped. He turned and ran out of your room, stopping at Bucky’s door. Panicked, he knocked incessantly until he answered.

“She’s gone,” Steve said, pushing your note into Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s eyes widened, turning to his friend. He nodded at Steve, no words needing to be exchanged. Both men ran down the hall, stopping to grab Clint and Sam. You already had a half hour head start, but he’d be damned if you didn’t come back with him.

————————————————————

You heard him before you saw him, feeling his anger roll off in waves. If steam could actually appear out of someone’s ears, you’d be scorched right now.

You heard him yell your name, running behind you, his shield flying past your head as he took out three Hydra agents rushing you. You kept running, not even stopping to spare a glance Steve’s way.

You heard him yell your name again, followed by a string of expletives, but you kept your focus ahead of you, your mission the only thing on your mind, your heart still hurting over the lie.

“Goddamnit, Asshat,” you yelled back, jumping over the bodies as they landed beside you, almost causing you to lose your balance and fall on your face. “I have this handled.” You stopped, seeing all of the enemies down, and turned to Steve. “Why the fuck are you even here?”

“Why the fuck am I here? Why are you here? What were you thinking, coming here alone?” Steve yelled, his anger and fear colliding at seeing you unharmed.

“I was thinking maybe I had finally found a decent man, and a new group of friends, only to be lied to by them all.” Tears of frustration ran down your cheeks, upsetting you even more. This was not the time for tears, but your emotions were overflowing.

Steve’s face fell, guilt etched in all of his features before his face turned stern once more. “We didn’t lie to you, we were protecting you, I WAS PROTECTING YOU!” Steve yelled, grabbing your arms, making you face him.

You looked up at him about to yell back when a movement caught your attention. Acting on instinct, you pushed Steve out of the way, the bullet that was meant for his head now residing in your right side under your ribs. “Fuck!” you screamed, falling to the ground trying to get some pressure on your wound.

You were losing blood fast, your super healing not yet kicking in, causing your blood pressure to start dropping, your eyesight starting to go dark. “Not again, damnit.”

Steve turned, seeing you go down, rushing to your side. He threw his shield hitting the shooter in the head before turning his attention back to you. “Fuck. I need a transport out now. She’s been shot.”

Steve gathered you into his arms, his anger fading for just a moment as he stared at your lifeless body. He’d never felt so helpless, nor had anyone ever taken a bullet for him. Damnit, where was Barton with the jet? He applied more pressure to your wound, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the aircraft landing near him.

Steve didn’t leave your side the entire flight back, his relief and worry turning to anger once again as you healed. You had regained consciousness, but didn’t open your eyes. You knew Steve was aware you were awake, his super soldier senses picking up the change in breathing and heart rate.

When the jet landed in the hangar, Clint, Sam, and Bucky deplaned, only after Steve had reassured the men that he would stay with you. You could feel the anger rolling off him as you stayed still, pretending you were still out.

“I know you’re awake,” he said tersely, dropping your hand as he stood up. You silently cursed, not remotely in the mood to deal with the drama about to unfold. You stood slowly, waiting for the yelling to begin as you became overly fascinated with a lint ball on the floor.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Again, you put your life in danger for no reason, not only going alone but jumping in front of a bullet? Do you have a death wish?”

“That’s an awfully angry way to say ‘Thank you for saving my life. Again’,” you retorted, still not looking at Steve, your own anger bubbling over.

“Why would I thank you for almost getting killed?” Steve screamed, no longer able to control himself. He knew this would scare you, maybe make you hate him, but he couldn’t stop. His mind replayed him holding your lifeless body on a loop, causing him a new level of fear he’d never felt before.

“THE GUN WAS AIMED AT YOUR HEAD, YOU FUCKING ASS!” you screamed back, finally finding your own strength, knowing you were just protecting him, same as he tried to do with you because you knew there was no longer you without him. He’d become a part of you, and no matter how hurt you were, you wouldn’t let him go.

Steve took a deep breath, watching you intensely. “Fuck it,” he said as he stepped forward, grabbing the back of your head as he pulled you in for a kiss. It was heavy, all teeth and tongue, words not enough to explain what either of you were feeling at this moment.

You pushed back, still angry, however as you looked into his eyes, his need and hunger written all over, you pulled him back in, kissing him harder and deeper as he wound his hand in your hair.

He pulled away, looking down at you, searching for permission, not wanting to push you before you were ready. What he found was you staring back, feral in stance and hunger. As he reached for you again, you slammed him against the wall, all but growling when you commanded him to stay. He let you take control, knowing your past, knowing this is what you needed and wanted.

You removed his uniform, tearing the top in the process as you grew impatient with the leather barrier. You dropped to your knees, his large cock in your face. You reached out, grasping the base firmly, stroking up and down his length, spreading his precum over the head down the shaft.

He moved to grab your hair, lifting his hips off the wall as he tried to push his cock even closer to your mouth. You pushed him back, pinning his hands by his hips, both firmly planted against the wall and once again commanded him to stay.

“Rogers, if you move one more time, you won’t get to cum,” you told him before sucking the spongy, angry tip of his cock into your mouth. You looked up as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper down your throat, gagging as you took all he gave you.

As he looked down, he couldn’t remember ever seeing something so fucking erotic and beautiful in his life. You continued to stare up at him, your tears mixing with your drool and precum, tasting every inch of this man.

“Fuck, damnit. I don’t think I’ll last much longer,” he said, his lust filled eyes barely showing a hint of his normal blue, pupils blown. You continued your assault, taking him even deeper, feeling it in your throat. He looked down, the sight of his dick bulging out of your throat too much. As you felt him start to cum, you doubled down, sucking and milking him as long as you could, until every last drop was swallowed.

You stood up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you finally allowed him to move, his eyes staring at you, waiting for you to give consent. You looked back, nodding your head almost imperceptibly, giving in to your body’s demands.

“My turn,” he said, picking you up, pulling your pants off, and throwing your back against the wall, your thighs around his head as he dove right in, eating your cunt as if he’d been starved. You barely had time to steady yourself on his shoulders, before you felt the first orgasm washing over you.

He continued his meal, his tongue working your clit over and over, catapulting you over the edge again, his tongue ruthless. You grabbed his hair as he pinned your legs, adding two fingers as he sent you over the edge a third time.

He licked, sucked, and drank every last bit of you, swearing he had never tasted anything as good as this, becoming an instant addict of you. When he’d had all you had to offer, he moved your legs down, wrapping them around his waist, stopping to remove your top and bra.

You both stared at each other, him waiting for permission, you finally admitting how you truly felt. He returned your gaze, stopping to kiss you deeply and sensually, trying to convey every ounce of his affection for you across his lips.

He pulled back, lining his cock with your entrance, waiting for you to say yes, to open yourself to him completely. You nodded your head and felt him slowly start to push in. You threw your head back against the wall, his face in your neck, both breathing heavily as he pushed in inch by agonizing inch.

“Please,” you whined, not sure what you were asking for. You felt him slide all the way in, both of you taking a minute to adjust. He slowly pulled out, his mouth sucking and licking every drop of sweat from your neck before sliding back in, his pace torture.

He started fucking you faster, each thrust forcing your back up the wall just a bit as he deepened his angle. Still pinned against the wall, all you could do was hold on as he tore you apart then put you right back together, fast and deep.

You felt his hand slide between your bodies, his fingers rubbing over you overly sensitive clit, moving faster and faster as he continued until you tipped over the edge, cumming again all over him.

“I have never seen a more beautiful sight than your face when you cum,” he said as he fucked you through your orgasm, your mind completely full of just him. You felt his thrusts start to stutter, his hips pounding an uneven pattern until he came, his cum running down your legs.

He leaned his head on your shoulder as you both panted, coming down together. He kissed you, slowly and deeply, still inside of you. He pulled away, leaning his forehead on yours for a moment before he lifted his head again, his eyes searching yours.

“I never want to hold your lifeless body again,” he said, explaining his reaction earlier, apologizing for losing his temper. “I haven’t been that scared in a long time, and the thought of losing you scared me more than I was ready to admit.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t consider your point of view.” You kissed him, pouring every ounce of affection you were feeling into it. “Please don’t hide things from me, especially missions. You may not want me to go, but this is who I am. From now on, it’s a decision we make together.”

He nodded, finally accepting you for exactly who you are, your fight and strength part of what drew him to you in the first place. You both stood still, your bodies still completely entwined, neither wanting to ruin the moment.

As he set you down and you went about getting dressed, you heard Stark on comms, telling you two if anything was broken or needed cleaning, it was coming out of your next paycheck. You laughed, walking hand in hand. You weren’t quite sure what you were walking towards, but you would do that together also.

#steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve x reader #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans characters #marvel #steve rogers smut #Wizard the goat #Bucky x Doc

[lunarbuck]

Dance With The Devil (6)

Pairing: mafia!Loki x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.3k

Summary: Sacrifices are made, and realizations come to light, but is it too late?

Warnings: violence, severe/fatal injury, blood, death 👀 (not really specified, implied i guess?), angst, crying, fluff, smoochin'

A/N: Even though I thought I wouldn't be able to post, I pulled through!! yay :) I'm sad that the series is ending... we only have one left after this 😭 thank you for sticking through it :)))

series masterlist | main masterlist | script | fic playlist

Chapter 5 / Chapter 7

Loki

I hear a quiet knock on the door, but I do not turn at the sound.

“Pardon me, Loki.” The voice of Mrs. Peters carries across the room.

“Leave me in peace,” I reply, staring at the rose between my fingers. My flower had given it to me the day we’d spent all afternoon in the garden. As if it is aware of her absence, it has started to wilt and die, but it is all I have of her now.

“The house is under attack!” She says, her voice full of urgency. I hear the sound of tires on the pavement, footsteps on the driveway, guns being loaded. “What should we do?” She isn’t really asking me what they should do; she knows. She’s only asking to try and get me to join in the fight. But I don’t want to fight. Not anymore.

“It doesn’t matter now. Just let them come.” A petal falls from the rose, and I can’t help but find it poetic, fitting for this moment.

Mrs. Peters storms out of the room, clearly upset that I’m not jumping to defend the home. I am rooted where I stand, unable to move, unable to continue on.

Flower

You throw your body against the freight container door, but it’s no use. It won’t budge. You have no idea how long you’ve been trying to get it open, but your body aches, and it feels like it’s been hours. Days even.

Your father is curled up in the corner, shivering so hard you can practically hear his teeth chattering.

There’s no way out, and the reality of it all hits you like a brick. You sink down against the wall and press the heels of your hand to your eyes. You have no idea if Loki knows what’s happening. No one is going to look for you; no one is going to find you.

You shuffle over to where your father lays and rub his back, trying to bring him even an ounce of comfort. He can’t be in here for long; he needs to be seen by a doctor. 

Time passes slowly as you wait and wait. Eventually, your father falls asleep, but you refuse to. You refuse to let your guard down for even a second.

Suddenly, footsteps crunch on the dirt outside the container, and your head shoots up. You’re standing in an instant, protecting your father from whoever is on the other side.

The lock clangs as someone tries to unlock it, but a moment later, you hear a loud snap, and the door swings open. A man dressed all in black stands on the other side, a pair of bolt cutters in hand. 

“Come with me,” the man says, gesturing with his open hand. You shake your head, stepping closer to your father. “We don’t have time for this,” he grumbles, stalking into the container.

“Don’t touch him!” you shout, pushing the man away. He doesn’t flinch; he easily slips past you and gently picks up your father.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the man says, turning toward you. “We need to go before someone comes to check on you.” He walks out without another word, and you stare, stunned for a moment, before jogging to catch up with him.

The man places your father in the backseat of a car and buckles him in before opening the passenger’s side door for you. Hesitantly, you climb in and try to calm your breath.

“Who are you?” you ask as the man starts the car. 

“Charlie Peters,” he replies, pulling out of the lot and onto the road. You still don’t recognize the area; Zemo’s men took you and your father so far away from town. Your jaw drops as you connect the dots. This is Mrs. Peters’ son.

“I met your mom,” you say, settling into the leather seat. “She’s a wonderful woman.” Charlie’s eyes crinkle in the corners at your words; that’s probably as much of a smile as you’re going to get from the man.

“Yeah, she is.” You stare out the window and watch the road speed by.

“How’d you find us?” Charlie turns onto the main road toward town, and you finally start to recognize your surroundings.

“Well, I work for the Laufeysons, but I’ve been watching Zemo for a while. None of his men are good at keeping shit to themselves, so I heard about your capture and knew I had to come get you.” 

“And where are you taking us now?” You know he’s not headed in the direction of your house, but he’s also not headed back toward Loki’s.

“The Family doctor,” he says simply. The rest of the ride is spent in silence, and 10 minutes later, he pulls up outside of a single-story home. On shaky legs, you help your father into the home. Charlie talks to the doctor, who quickly begins taking your papa’s vitals. It’s nice to know that he’s being taken care of, but you’re still on edge. Your mind constantly drifts to Loki and what could possibly be happening to him. Zemo and Griffin are out for blood. You know Loki is strong but is he strong enough to take on this attack?

Charlie nudges your arm with his elbow, offering a steaming cup of tea to you. You mutter a quiet thank you and sip it, letting the warmth fill your chest. 

“Thank you for bringing us here,” you whisper, watching the doctor administer some sort of treatment to your father. Charlie just shrugs.

“There is no need to thank me, I know how important you are to Loki and everyone at the house.” Your heart stutters at the thought of everyone else at the house. Levi, Cade, and Mrs. Peters have become your family in the short time you’ve been in Loki’s care. You can’t imagine what you’d do if they were hurt.

“Do you know if they’re okay?” You ask, chewing your lower lip. This time, Charlie’s brow furrows, and you can tell he’s hesitating to tell you

“Please, Charlie, I need to know.” Guilt creeps through your bones, settling in your gut. 

Charlie shifts uneasily on his feet and pulls out his phone, scrolling through until he finds what he wants. “They haven’t been able to get into the house yet, but it’ll happen soon. Loki hasn’t mobilized anyone yet, I don’t think he will.” 

“What?” You can’t believe this. Loki is just going to sit there and let it happen.

“That’s all I know, but Loki can handle himself. You don’t need to worry about him.” You shake your head; there’s no way you won’t worry about Loki and the people in that house. Charlie steps away from you to talk to the doctor, and you don’t give yourself time to think. You blow your papa a kiss and quietly walk toward the door. Charlie must not have expected you to try to leave because as you approach the entryway table, you see his car keys. You grab them and dart out the door before he can notice you’ve disappeared.

The second you start the car, Charlie bolts out of the house, yelling at you to get out. You just grit your teeth and ignore him, pulling out of the driveway and out onto the road.

The car’s GPS doesn’t have any locations saved, but you’re able to figure out how to get back to Loki’s mansion without too much trouble. As you pull up to the house, you see the fleet of black SUVs that had surrounded you earlier, the ones that had stolen you and papa from the hospital. 

Men dressed all in black fire at each other out on the lawn and within the house, sending bodies falling left and right. You stumble out of the car and onto the pavement. Rain beats down on you, soaking you to the bone, but you don’t care. From where you stand, you can see Loki watching it all happen from the balcony of the West Wing, almost as if he hasn’t moved from where you left him.

It’s hard to believe that not even a day has passed since he gave you the necklace you now clutch between your shaking fingers. 

You watch as Loki turns and walks into his office as if in a trance. Once he’s out of sight, you scramble toward the house, ducking behind trees and cars for protection. As you get closer to the house, you see Cade tending to a wounded man a few feet away. You slip on the wet pavement, and his eyes shoot to you.

“What– what are you doing here?” He asks, patting the man on the shoulder before jogging over to you. Cade helps you up and holds your shoulders tightly, scanning your face with a kind of care you hadn’t expected him capable of.

In all honesty, you’re not really sure why you’re here. It’s not like you can stop the attack. Deep down, you know that you just want to be with him. You want to be here with Loki no matter what. He’s been alone for so long; you don’t want him to be alone in this too.

“Where is he?” You ask instead of explaining. Cade shakes his head but grips your hand in his, tugging you behind him toward the house. He covers you when you’re spotted, but he doesn’t let you get hurt. As he guides you through the battlefield, your eyes catch on the balcony of the west wing again. Though this time, you see Loki and a figure behind him. You don’t even think as you pull yourself from Cade’s grip and run toward the balcony.

“Loki!” You scream, the sound tearing from your chest. “No!”

Griffin throws himself at Loki, nearly toppling them both over the edge of the balcony. Though you know both men are armed, you know Griffin well enough that he’s a cocky bastard and will try to win with only his strength. 

Loki doesn’t even fight; he just lets Griffin take him down and beat him with his fists. You can’t tear your eyes away, even as Cade rushes to your side. He grabs your arm, but you’re stuck where you stand. You scream up at Loki and Griffin, but either they don’t hear, or they don’t care. 

“Come on,” Cade grunts, trying to pull you away. You push at his arm, tears streaming down your face.

“Why isn’t he fighting back?” You yell partially at Cade but mostly at Loki. Cade doesn’t respond. He just pushes you behind an overturned car as another round of gunfire blares through the air. 

Griffin, seemingly fed up with Loki’s lack of fight, pulls out his gun. You watch, bile rising in your throat as he fires down at Loki. His body shudders at the impact, and you scream again. You fight against Cade’s hold, but he won’t let you go. 

Loki

Blood pours from my wound, and I cradle my arm, rolling up onto my knees. He fires a few shots into the air, clearly trying to scare me and anyone else on my side into submission. But I’ve already succumbed. There is nothing left for me with her gone. Today there will be a changing of the ranks; I will be cast out from my family and everything I’ve known.  

Griffin yells at me as I grip my shoulder. “Get up! Get up! What’s the matter, Loki? Too kind and gentle to fight back?” He’s angry that I won’t give chase, that I won’t turn into the monster he knows me to be. I look down at the ground below, rain dripping from my hair into my eyes. Thunder claps loudly, but it doesn’t mask the sound of Griffin reloading his gun. 

“Griffin!” someone screams, the sound ripping from their throat. “Stop!” Griffin turns to look, anger rolling off of him in waves.

The thunder doesn’t mask the sound of my flower’s voice shouting at him to stop. I see her out on the lawn, fighting against Cade’s hold.

A smile tugs at my lips at the sight of her, disheveled and furious in the rain. “My beautiful flower.” I manage to stand as Griffin stalks to the other side of the balcony.

“Griffin, don’t!” She screams again, breaking out of Cade’s arms and running toward the house as quickly as she can.

Griffin uses my distraction to his advantage, swinging his gun at my jaw, but seeing her has lit a fire in my heart. I catch his wrist, forcing him back as I stand at my full height. I knock the weapon from his hand and hear it clatter to the ground below us. 

Without his weapon, Griffin is weak. I swing at him, my fist connecting with his face. I am stronger than him, but my wounded shoulder prevents me from using all my strength. I push him back enough to slip away, hiding in the shadows as I cover my wound.

I hear Griffin’s footsteps approaching, the section of roof we are on is large, but he will find me in a moment. “Come on out and fight!” He stops walking and begins laughing to himself. “Were you in love with her, Loki? Did you honestly think she’d want you when she had someone like me?”

A growl rips from my chest as I lunge at Griffin, tackling him.

Griffin backs away from me, holding his arms out. “It’s over, Loki! She’s mine!”

I shake my head. Fuck him. The thought of her hands on another man, the thought of someone else tainting her skin with their touch sends fury ripping through me. Now that I have had her, that she has slipped her way into my heart she is mine. I am hers, she owns me heart and soul. No one has ever made me feel this way, I don’t want anyone but her. 

I tackle him once more and grip him by the throat, whipping a large knife out of my belt. I shove it through his shoulder, pinning him to the roof. He howls in pain as I remove my pistol from its holster and place it against his forehead.

Griffin goes pale, shaking beneath me, unwilling to take the punishment for his actions. Like a pussy, he starts begging me for his life. “Don’t kill me! Please, don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything! Anything!”

I click the safety off and put a bullet in the chamber. My finger rests on the trigger, ready to press, but I don’t. I stare at the man below me and shock myself as I stand, stepping away from him.

From the balcony above me, I hear a voice call to me. “Loki!” I turn and see her. My beauty, tears and rain streaking her face.

I call back to her, choking on her name. I climb up the roof to her, pulling myself up on the side of the balcony. She stands in front of me, gripping my shoulders. I don’t even feel the pain in my wound. She has erased it all.

“You came back,” I whisper, unable to believe she is here.

She stares back at me, shaking her head and smiling softly as if she, too, cannot believe it. I feel her tug on me, trying to pull me over the ledge, and I move to help her when something tears its way into my back.

I cry out in pain as Griffin lodges the blade I’d stabbed him with into my back. My flower grips me as I sway with the movement of Griffin pulling it out. He tries to stab me again, but this time, his grip slips. He doesn’t have someone on the other side to hold him steady.

Griffin falls for what feels like an eternity, and I do not look down to see where he lands.

My flower doubles her efforts to pull me to safety, and I do my best to climb up, but I feel the strength pouring from my wounds.

Black invades my vision as she lays me on the balcony. Her face is all I see as I fight to keep my eyes open. Her beautiful bright eyes, her kind smile. The pain overcomes me, and I finally give in, letting my eyes fall shut.

Flower

As Loki’s eyes close, you feel the world cave in. 

“Loki,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face, melding with the raindrops that soak your skin.

Loki’s eyes flicker open, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “You came back.” This time it isn’t a question; he doesn’t doubt what he sees before him. His hand reaches to your cheek, fingers fitting around your jaw and back into your hair, holding you how he always would.

“Of course I came back. I couldn’t let them-- This is all my fault. If only I’d gotten here sooner--” You lean your face into his hand, placing your fingers over his, trying to get closer to his embrace.

“Your beauty has started wars, my pet, and you think I would not fight for you?” You shake your head, this never should have happened. “Maybe it’s better this way,” Loki grunts, a slight smirk upon his lips. His thumb brushes the tears from your cheek.

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll be all right. We’re together now,” you sniffle, trying to hold your voice steady. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see,” you can’t hide the way your words crack, but you want to be strong. For him. For Loki. 

“At least I got to see you one last time.” 

As his hand falls from your face, your world shatters. Your heart stops beating, the Earth stops turning. 

“No... please, no...”

The rain beats down on you as you collapse on top of Loki’s quiet form. You sob into his chest, holding onto the lapel of his jacket.

You are oblivious to the watchful eyes of Cade, Levi, and Mrs. Peters on you, the sad glances they exchange, knowing their fate is sealed.

“No, no,” you sob, lifting your head to look at Loki’s face. You touch your forehead to his, wishing he would just open his eyes and smile at you as if it were all some stupid joke. “Please don’t leave me. I love you.” Tilting your head, you press a final kiss to his lips, still soft and warm.

Thunder cracks loudly above you, and footsteps scuff against the wet cement. Warm hands press against your back, and a loud sob escapes from your lips. Mrs. Peters crouches beside you, moving your soaking hair from your face. Even though you’re draped over Loki’s body, she still embraces you.

“I’m not going to make you come inside,” she whispers, gently running her fingers along your spine. “I’m not going to make you do anything, dear.” You nod, sobbing into Loki’s chest. New footsteps, and then Levi is crouching down on the other side of Loki. He places a hand on Loki’s forehead, a mournful look stitched into his features. 

“Zemo’s men are either all dead or contained. There’s a doctor here, though; she should come out here,” he says gently. You nod, and Levi waves out the doctor. She looks young, but if she’s employed by the Laufeysons, she must be trustworthy. You hold onto Loki’s hand as she examines Loki. You don’t know how he can be saved at this point. His wounds are too severe.

Cade steps out as well and crouches beside you and Levi. “They’re here.” His voice is low and gruff, it’s filled with grief. He turns to you and gives you a sad look. “Loki’s uncle,” he explains. “He’s here to take over since the contract wasn’t fulfilled.” Contract?

He’s running out of time.

You shake your head, not ready to admit all that this means for Loki’s people.

“You love him?” The doctor asks you, pulling your attention. 

You stare at her, head foggy from tonight’s events. “Yes,” you whisper. The doctor nods, then calls over a man. They speak in hurried whispers before two more men come to the doctor’s side. 

“We need to bring him inside if we’re going to help him,” she tells you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You nod, and the second you do, the men lift Loki and carry him back into the west wing.

You wake slowly, eyes struggling to open fully. Your body feels heavy, but your head is clear. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus, but when they do you see Mrs. Peters in the chair beside the bed. You’re drowning in pillows and blankets; part of you wants to settle back in and go back to sleep.

The other part of you doesn’t let you forget what happened to Loki.

You shoot upright, head spinning at the movement. “Loki,” you whisper, throat dry.

“It’s okay, dear,” Mrs. Peters says, quickly moving to your side. “Shh, shh.” She places her hand on your head and eases you back into bed.

“What– what’s going on?” You ask as she brings a glass of water to you.

“You’ve been asleep for quite some time, dear. You were sick, so surely that was part of it, but I think the rest was fear.” You sip the water and nod, images of Loki’s lifeless wounded body on the wet balcony flashing through your mind.

Mrs. Peters opens her mouth to speak again, but you shake your head. You don’t want to hear more about that night or what happened to Loki. 

Even though your head protests, you shuffle out of the pile of blankets. You slide out of bed on unsteady legs and take a deep breath. Mrs. Peters follows close behind, and you walk out of the room and into the hallway. Even though each step feels impossible, you finally make it to the kitchen.

Mrs. Peters jumps into action, making you a quick breakfast while you stare out the kitchen window to the yard outside. It’s hard to believe that a few days ago, it was a battlefield littered with bodies. When she places the food in front of you, you eat despite not feeling hungry.

Time passes strangely, your thoughts muddled. What happens next? Where do you go from here?

You move through the days in a trance, each day bleeding into the next. It takes almost three days for the fog in your mind to clear. Something has been happening in the house, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Levi and Cade have been checking in on you, but you don’t want to talk to anyone. You just sit with your thoughts and wait for something to change. Wait for something to get better.

Tonight, the sky is clear, and the stars shine brightly through the darkness. You find yourself on the balcony in the west wing.

You stare out at the sky, looking for answers. Even just standing out here makes your throat tight with emotion. Images of Loki bleeding to death in front of you flash before your eyes. You can practically feel him, his presence with you now.

You tell yourself there’s no use standing out here, so you turn around to leave when your breath catches.

Loki leans against the entry to the balcony, a hand braced against the wall, the other pushing hair out of his face. Tears bloom in your eyes, and you make no effort to hold them back. You want to run to him, but your feet don’t move.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, cocking his head and grinning mischievously. Loki slowly walks toward you, masking his injuries well but not well enough to deceive you into thinking he is fully healed.

You spring forward when he is only a few steps away, practically launching yourself at him. Loki catches you in his embrace, enveloping you with his long arms. 

“It’s you,” you whisper into his chest, hearing his heart beating wildly beneath his ribs.

“It’s me,” he whispers, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your tears are wetting his shirt, but you don’t care.

“You’re alive.”

“Yes, my flower, I’m alive.” You tilt your chin up and find Loki already looking down at you, bright eyes shining with adoration. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes gleaming, and kisses you.

He lifts you off your feet, not breaking contact, and takes your breath away. His kiss is all-encompassing. It scares away any doubt you ever had of Loki’s strength. It’s a balm soothing your wounds.

It’s all him.

The fairytales might’ve gotten something right. The feeling of being in Loki’s arms again, of his hands holding you, of his lips pressing against yours, is magic. Right now, you’re invincible as long as you’re with Loki. 

Even though the day you met him, you thought Loki was a monster, there’s something there… it’s always been there; you just weren’t ready to see it.

“My beauty,” he whispers, breaking from the kiss. He still holds you, still doesn’t let you out of his embrace. “I thought I’d lost you.”

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “You could never lose me,” you reply. Loki smiles that mischievous grin that makes your heart thud and laughs.

“I love you,” he says, voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest. “I love you.”

“Loki,” you can barely speak, barely breathe, at his confession. His bright eyes stare deeply into yours, seeing right through you, and you melt. “I love you.”

All is right in the world as Loki kisses you breathless. He carries you back into the home, through his office, and to a room you’ve never been into before. A large bed catches your attention, and Loki wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, sending laughter bursting through you.

He tosses you onto the bed and climbs on top of you, crowding you with his larger body. Your heart sings with the feeling of truly being at home. At peace.

Papa always told you that home is where the heart is. Truer words have never been spoken.

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#jane’s writing #dance with the devil #loki laufeyson #loki x f!reader #beauty and the beast #fairytale retelling #mafia au #loki #loki laufeyson marvel #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #loki laufeysin x f!reader #loki x you #loki x reader #loki laufeyson smut. #loki fluff #loki smut. #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #fem reader #marvel au #marvel fan fiction

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 23: Hate Fucking - Helmut Zemo

Kinktober Day 23: Hate Fucking - Helmut Zemo x f!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, set during tfatws, enemies to fuck buddies, making out, quickie, wall sex, biting, marking, size kink, kitchen sex, creampie,  nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link

His presence had been a pain in your ass for the entire mission. In fact, you couldn’t help but complain about him constantly since the second Bucky had broken him out of prison, nearly walking away from the entire situation as Zemo strolled through the door.

A small part of you understood why he was needed but by god, he was making it difficult with his condescending, manipulative, self-righteous arrogance constantly being a thorn in your side, there was only so far you could be pushed.

“You’re not leaving me with him!” you argued, trying to block the exit.

“Sorry kid, you know we need someone to keep an eye on him” Bucky tried to reason, sighing as you wouldn’t move out of his way.

“Then I’ll go with Sam! Just don’t leave me with him, I can’t be held accountable for my actions if I’m left alone with him” you tried to bargain but you knew it was a waste of time.

“I also do not need a babysitter James” Zemo pipped up from where he sat reading his book, lounging on the couch.

You and Bucky gave him a pointed look, he did of course need someone looking after him, he was a fugitive after all.

“Listen, we won’t be away for long, just sit a few feet away from each other and you’ll be fine” Bucky squeezed your shoulder once more gently moving you away from the door, walking out without looking back, not giving you the chance to argue back.

Turning on the spot you began to open your mouth to argue with Sam but he gave you a sympathetic smile, “sorry kid, we won’t be long, try not to kill each other until we’re back”. He too left, locking the door behind him leaving you alone with Helmut who didn’t seem phased by the situation but you knew he was just as angered as you were.

You weren’t subtle with your movements, stomping with heavy feet over to the armchair, not caring that you looked childish in any way, fed up that you were being left behind once again in the mission to do the job that held no value.

Scrolling through your phone, you become easily lost in tik toks, helping the time to pass and trying not to laugh as each video scrolled by, trying to keep the scowl on your face just in case Zemo looked over, not quite caring in the pettiness you were displaying.

A sudden movement out of the corner of your peripheral vision had you sitting bolt upright, reaching for the gun that was strapped tightly to the holster of your thigh, pointing it in Zemo’s direction as he gently stood.

Lazily holding his hands up, he continued walking, not phased at all by your threat. “Easy dragă, I’m just going to use the bathroom”. Taking a second to determine whether you believed him, you finally relaxed your stance.

“Don’t call me that” you mumbled, slotting the gun back into its place and watching with keen eyes as he moved to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Your eyes then shifted towards your phone timer, watching as it ticked by, with each passing minute, your stomach churned in anticipation. When it had officially been 10 minutes, you were striding towards the door, banging heavily against the wood with your fist.

Zemo opened the door instantly, a smirk teasing you on his face like he had been waiting for you to do this, testing to see how long it would take you.

“I’m not going anywhere dragă, you really need to relax” the Baron leant against the doorframe, crossing his arms as his eyes travelled up and down your form.

“Not so easy to do with such an arrogant prick in the room”.

Helmut’s smirk shifted to a smile, “you seem awfully pent up”.

The way he was staring at you had your insides twisting but you weren’t sure in what way, feeling unnerved you began to step away, muttering, “whatever Helmut”. However, a firm grip around your arm stopped your movements, spinning you back to look at the Baron. “If you don’t remove yourself from my arm, you’re a dead man Zemo”.

One thing you should have accounted for was his training, forgetting momentarily, not having enough time to dig your heels into the carpet as he was able to shove you back into a nearby wall, lungs being winded by the impact. “What the fuck-”

He was quick, quicker than you had expected him to be as he was able both disarm you, the gun now skidding across the floor, and your arms being pinned to your side.

“No more talking from you” his voice was low, not aggressive like you’d expected it to be compared to his actions, instead it was laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You tried to squeeze out of his grip, knees lifting to kick him but he leaned his weight heavily over you, leaving you momentarily defenceless.

It also meant that he was so close to your face that you could smell his expensive aftershave, citrusy with a hint of smoke. “Why do you fight me so much dragă?”

His question threw you through a loop, confusion settling across your expression, eyes dropping to watch his lips as he spoke but that was only due to the close proximity. “You know why I hate you Zemo, that’s no fucking reason to slam me against the wall”.

Helmut chuckled darkly, his own eyes searching over your face, “oh I have every reason to slam you into the wall dragă”. Before your brain could overthink his works, and understand the connotations behind his emphasis, Zemo dipped his head, lips lazily connecting with yours.

Initially, you were too shocked to turn your face away, eyes wide as you could feel the scratch of his facial hair against the softness of your cheeks. The man holding you close shifted back an inch, eyes darting between yours trying to gauge your reaction.

You couldn’t even think, not with your head anyway as a deep ache began to radiate between your legs so as his face hovered close to yours, you moved first.

The kiss was chaotic, with no rhythme just licking, pulling lips with teeth, both trying to frantically kiss the other harder, not being able to move quick enough, heads tilting from side to side as his hands finally released their grip on your arms, giving you the freedom, to pull his jumper, chest bumping harder against yours.

You’d not even realised just how pent up you truly were as a strong thigh pushed between your legs leaving your cunt grinding down on the muscle, mouth opening in a quick gasp before it was swallowed up by Helmut’s tongue dancing with your own.

Zemo seemed to be moving with just as much passion and ferocity as his hands dropped to the zipper of your jeans, you wanted this, want to get rid of some of that tension before you exploded. Releasing the grip on his jumper, your hands mirrored his, gripping his belt and hastily undoing it but not as smoothly as his, your hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline.

“Fuck” you grunted as your jeans were harshly pulled down with your underwear to your knees and before you could do the same to him, your body was being turned, face now being pushed up against the cool wall, hips being jutted out slightly.

“Hurry up” he couldn’t have moved any quicker if he tried as he pulled out his cock, you couldn’t even see it over your shoulder from the positioning, only realising he had even released himself when his lips attached to your ear lobe and the hard press of his tip moved against your cunt.

Zemo swears as he feels how wet you are, only taking a second to compose himself before tilting his hips up. He was bigger than you had expected, your pussy trembling with the stretch as inch after inch delved deeper. He was moving too slow so with a grunt you pushed your hips backwards, taking the remainder of his cock causing you both to shudder, you felt so full but you still needed more.

It seemed that Helmut was experiencing as much urgency as he began to fuck you hard, his hand disappearing into your head, tugging back your head to expose your neck giving him the perfect opportunity to bite the junction between neck and shoulder.

“Ah! Don’t fucking mark me you possessive freak” he chuckled, licking over the spot that he had just bit to soothe the skin before putting all of his energy to thrust deeper and harder, your face aching from the impact of your body being pushed forward but you didn’t care, finding some sick joy in the mixture of pleasure and pain.

His lips were back teasing the shell of your ear, “you should stop fighting me all the time, we could have such great fun”.

“Shut up and fuck me, Zemo”.

Saying his name seemed to snap something within him, his cock pulling all the way out leaving you feeling oddly empty before he was dragging you over the island in the middle of the kitchen, not without its difficulties with your jeans halfway down your legs.

Just as you felt like you were about to fall on your face, you found yourself being pushed until your front was against the marble countertop and before you could react, Zemo was fucking you again. His grip on your hips was harsh enough that you knew they would be bruises later but you didn’t care, mouth gaping open releasing a steady stream of moans.

His thrusts were hitting you so deep, stroking against all of the beautiful spots within, your juices coating him, causing each thrust to squelch. You felt it now, Zemo moving so quickly that you didn’t have time to dwell in that blissful build-up, it was simply just there tight and arousing and then you were cuming, hard, walls fluttering around his cock.

The tight grip your cunt had on him was nearly overwhelming for the Baron as his thrusts faltered and he too was cuming, coating you with every ounce of cum that he had in his tightened balls. His seed spilt out of you, dripping down your thighs as he all but collapse against your back.

It didn’t take long for him to recover, however, silently easing his cock out and walking away without another word but you were fine with that, rushing to the bathroom to clean yourself. It also took longer than you expected as you had to wash your face repeatedly to try and get the glazed “I’ve just been fucked” expression off of your face.

Re-entering the main room, you noted that Zemo had returned to the couch, reading the same book as before acting like nothing had even happened so you sat as well, trying not to glance at him every few seconds, mind both overthinking and blank at the same time, the only sign that something had actually happened was the slight pulsing still tingling in your cunt.

Only a few moments later the front door was unlocking, and Sam and Bucky returned from wherever they had visited.

“Good to see you two haven’t killed each other” Bucky commented, dropping into the chair adjacent to yours.

“I can be good sometimes, Barnes” you retorted, noticing the slight smirk on Zemo’s lips.

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo smut #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo imagine #marvel smut #marvel one shot #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #mine*

[eddiemuonson]

Break Free - Bucky Barnes x f!Reader / Part 3

Summary: You were an infiltrated nurse working for HYDRA and takes care of Bucky Barnes, who's still triggered and being used as The Winter Soldier.

Part Two

Warnings: blood, violence, fluff

Word count: 2.4k

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You felt every little hair on your body chill, and your spine stiffened by the look Bucky gave you. He didn't remember you this time. He didn't know it was you. He only knew you were his mission.

He walked towards you while holding a knife in one hand and used his metal arm to grab your neck, making you gasp for air. His grip was tight, and he never left his gaze, his blue eyes were darkened, his frown showing pure hatred.

Alexander Pierce was standing by the cell, watching you almost fall apart in front of him, because that's what he wanted.

Barnes pointed the knife on your stomach, and you flinched, trying to find strength to make him recognize you. You tried to hold his arms, but he's too strong and shakes you off of him.

"Bucky, it's me. It's (Y/N). Please, don't do that", you beg. Your voice is wavering as you try too hard to keep yourself alive. You feel the tip of the knife piercing slowly through your skin and you groan.

"I am not Bucky", he said. His voice as cold as his metal arm touch. He still looked at you like he wanted to make you his trophy.

"Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you think that, for a second, you'd outsmart me?", Pierce asked. He walked towards both of you, standing behind Bucky. "You think you can come to my place, fool on my people and leave without paying for that?".

The Winter Soldier still had your neck around his metal hand, while slowly pushing the knife on you. You felt your skin burning.

"What makes you think we're that stupid, you bitch?", Alexander came closer to you, and you tried to hold his gaze. At the same time, you looked at Barnes again, with pleading eyes.

"Please. Just don't", you tried holding your tears that started streaming down your cheeks, your body was stiffened and you were sweating from all the stress.

For a slight second, James noticed his eyes flicker, and he felt a stomp in his brain. He let go of your neck, holding your arm closer to him, taking you out of the cell.

"She's my mission, I'm going to finish it", he said, simply. He walked on your side outside your cell, and Pierce asked him where he was taking you. "I'll take it from here."

You weren't sure it was safe out there with him, especially when he's been triggered for less than an hour, and he always acted dangerous by then. You were walking in a hallway you never learned about and felt his grip loosen when a man stood a few steps away from you two.

You've seen him there before. Once, at least. He said he was German, and he wanted to work for HYDRA, but by the time they turned him down. He had this different way of looking at Bucky, and you straightened your sight.

"Hello, James", he said. "You might remember me, I'm Helmut Zemo". Oh, so that's the one. He was holding a .40 in his hand. Zemo didn't make a move, you felt Barnes breathing on your neck and realized this wouldn't be a conversation.

The soldier fired without a warning, but the other guy had learned how to dodge and had good reflexes and started shooting against him as well. Nothing would be more terrifying than standing there in the middle of a shooting, while Bucky tried to protect you.

"She's not your mission anymore, Barnes. She's worth a lot of money now, millions of dollars, I might say". Helmut sounded like you were some kind of gambling game he was about to win, and then the feeling of regret hit you in the pit of your stomach.

You didn't want all of this to be happening, but if you were to guess, you kinda could see that coming. Zemo aimed the artifact straight to your face, in an attempt to shoot you dead instead of making you suffer, but James made his metal arm an armor and the bullet ricocheted.

Bucky made you run with him, your body completely glued to his while he was looking for a way out. You still had no idea what he wanted to do with you at that point, but he saved you anyway.

While he was trying to find a way of getting out, going unnoticed, Zemo made his presence more than surprising and choked Bucky from behind. You let go of him for a second and stumbled on a pile of boxes, making a lot of folders hit the floor, papers spreading all over.

There were countless notes about super soldiers and people who were given the serum. There were pictures of them, reports and applications. Maybe there was something about him there, but you didn't have time to look for it.

Maybe you should, but that would slow you down. "Fuck it", you thought. You crouched on the floor, picking up all the papers you could, flipping through them. You spent several minutes looking for it, both of them still fighting hand to hand, leaving bruises on each other.

The sound of a shot makes you feel goosebumps in your body, and you look up, watching Barnes lean on a table, holding his flesh arm. Helmut was dead-staring at him, holding his gun while aiming for his head.

As soon as you get up, you get his attention, trying to confront him. "You want to play a hero only to get money, I thought you were smarter than that".

He looked at you, letting out a sarcastic laugh. His facial expression changed to amusement, while he was walking towards you to get closer. Zemo made it to you, and his expression changed once again.

"And you should know a woman doesn't get to be as important for the system as you think", he replied, slowly. He let out a scoff, turning around, looking at Bucky.

The soldier started to get on his feet, but Helmut stopped him, pointing the gun at him again.

"No, I'll be back to you in a second. No, I want you-", he said, now pointing at you. "To know no bitch screws around like that with my people".

His people? You thought he wanted to work there. You thought he was trying to get something from them, sure, but to understand he was already one of them made you tremble.

"And you know why you were his mission? Because that's what you deserve. You are playing a smart-ass princess who helps the others, but you're just another scumbag here". His words were thrown out like shrapnel, and they hit you hard.

You obviously didn't expect to be treated nicely there, considering the kind of company you were working for. But you had no idea you'd be one to be with a gun pointed at you.

Barnes was silent until he realized Zemo's words affected you in a way that made the soldier strike his knife on the man's back. You heard a low groan and watched as he searched for an object in his pocket and landed it on the floor.

You only had time to feel your heart thumping in your ears before you could run only a few feet away and the small device blew up the room. Helmut was lying on the ground, the knife still placed on his back. You were on your back on the floor, the entire room filled with fog and wreckage all over.

Your body hurt and it weighed you down, your legs were weak from all the stress and fright you've been through. Panting, you stood up and started looking for Bucky across the room, there were piles of ripped papers all over, the furniture was in a million pieces and Zemo was probably dead, at least you hoped.

You found Barnes unconscious again, he was bleeding through his arm and his face was injured from the fight and the blow up. It didn't take longer for him to wake up again, coughing from the dust.

"Hey, hey. It's me", you grabbed his face gently, and he looked at you concerned.

"What the hell are you still doing here? He could've killed you", he said. You weren't sure it was the Winter Soldier, but you could tell when Bucky was a little softer to you.

"So? You could've killed me too", you replied. He looked confused. You helped each other out of the building, sneaking through the vent he found. You were both miserable, and it took you ages to finally find an exit, but it happened.

You didn't want to think about it now, you didn't know exactly what to expect from him if he's not Bucky yet. You didn't know if it was safe to stay with him, but he wasn't trying to kill you, and he pulled you out of the living hell inside that company.

Pierce was still alive, though. And you thought maybe it would be a good chance to actually ask Steve to deal with him instead. You remembered of a place you were told about a few months back, one place out of the city no one would find, besides you and your coworkers.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You found a gas station where you and Bucky cleaned up yourselves and took a bus to the place. You didn't have clothes with you, you probably didn't even have your phone, but it was probably for the best anyway.

As soon as you got there, the man responsible for the small houses recognized you as one of his private investigator friends and let you in. It was like a motel facility, but it was secure. You paid the man a few extra bucks and asked him to go get some clothes and shop at the drugstore, which he did with no complaint.

The facility worked as a refuge, and it was hard for any other person to find it unless you have the location. You and James walked over a mile until you find it. You were bruised, and had to stitch yourself up.

Barnes still hadn't said a word since you took the bus, and it wasn't like he was going to say anything. You didn't care to leave the bedroom as it could be a good chance for him to escape, so you stayed as close as you could.

And then again you were there to patch him up, give him painkillers and treat him like a loyal patient for the hundredth time. He still didn't interact even then. While you were removing the remaining of the bullet, he sat still in the bathroom toilet, eyes looking at nowhere specifically.

It hit you again to see the amount of scars in his body, the small bruises with dry blood. The way his body language works every time you touch him to take care of him explains a little why he never actually killed you.

"You should not be near me", Bucky said, still looking straight. You didn't care about what he actually thought. You didn't care he was a threat.

When you didn't respond to what he said, he grabbed your wrist with his metal hand and squeezed it a bit. You stared at him, surprised by his sudden movement. He still had that frown, he carried a little of gray in his blue eyes.

"Don't get closer", he whispered. You knew why he was doing that. You knew he was trying to protect you from himself. But like a magnet, you gripped his chin, forcing him to look at your eyes.

"Bucky. I know you're there", you breathed. He didn't change his expression, but you could see his eyes flickered for a slight second. "Please, I want to do it".

He didn't say anything else, letting your wrist loose so you could finish patching him up. The way he looked vulnerable made your legs waver and your heart started beating faster.

You couldn't help but look how built up he was, how well worked out he looked, his abs perfectly shaped, his arms with big biceps. He felt your gaze upon him and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving you in your trance.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

After taking your shower and getting something to eat, you were ready to get in bed. You were sharing a king-sized bed, and there weren't any other single ones in the building. Barnes was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling like he was frozen.

You crawled until you reached his flesh arm, he felt an electricity there. He looked at your hand on his skin and then looked at you. He had the same confusing ones after he woke up from the trigger.

You settled closer to him, leaving traces of your fingers in his arms until you reached his scruffy beard. He was still looking at you, sort of amazed. His blood was burning inside him, and he wasn't sure it was a good idea to stay so close to you.

Deep in his mind, it felt the right thing to do. He cupped your cheek with the metal hand and bashed his lips into yours. It felt desperate, it felt warm, it felt messy, needy. When he felt your tongue caressing his, Bucky shivered under your gentle touch.

He groaned on your mouth, and it sent a shockwave through your whole body. You fixed the hair that was falling on his face and he sighed. Bucky didn't know he actually needed to kiss you this much until he felt it.

He doesn't remember being his old self, he doesn't remember he actually had a bit of your taste the other day. He knows, though, that the reason he wouldn't kill you, that the reason he never actually went after you to kill you, was because you were always there.

You were always the one who would clean him up, who would take care of his wounds, of his injuries, of his mess. You never actually complained about it, and you would always show how much you cared eventually.

Barnes gripped your waist with his metal arm in order to pull you closer, like you'd merge into him. He was desperate to feel your touch a little more than that, but at the same time he didn't want to feel like he was depending on it to feel sane.

When he broke the kiss, the soldier rested his forehead into yours, holding your hand with his. He opened his eyes to look at you, realizing something was different. It took him a moment, but he finally figured out what it was.

"Hey, it's me again", Bucky said. You felt your heart warm up and this time, you had no intention of stopping that kiss.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfic #userashe #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[anasweetlywrites]

Fanfics / Imagines recommendation list - Part 3

─────────── •°• ❀ •°• •° ❀ •°• ───────────

► ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ◄

Another blog with fanfics I like and recommend so whenever I’ll want to read again I can tap the link and other people can discover them as well~

Warning !!! : smut,fluff,angst . All of them are x reader.

Notes :

I have more saved in my drafts and reblog them or add them in another list like this one~

I'm also working when I can on recommendation lists with stories with other fandoms kinda like a warning? cuz you'll see me reblogging or posting lists with anime or something else other than marvel related content

Steve Rogers

Say it Steve @ussgallifrey

Wake Up Call Steve @ardentcupid

All these 3 by @punani

My girl Steve

Dead of the night Steve

+ this one with Christ Evans Before the birds sing  

It's great @disasterofastory

Fingering with mafia!Steve  @angrythingstarlight

butterfly  @lanadelreyscokewhor3

it’s artistic vision,pumpkin @lanadelreyscokewhor3

+ this one with Christ Evans Three @rocketrhap3000

Bucky Barnes

Comfort  @buckyodinson

Submission  @peachstyles

Overly worried and Touch starved @multi-stann

Blurry lines @idy-ll-ique

Foot massage @tomhollandsstan

Sauna @tomhollandsstan

Stress reliever @lanadelreyscokewhor3

Heat @heavysoldat

in the late hours, i’m yours to have boxer!roommate!Bucky @cityofstqrs

+ this one with Sebastian Stan Good girl  @rocketrhap3000

Bucky x reader x other characters

Dolled up Stucky x female!reader @stevesbestgirl

Siberia Stucky x female!reader @hellsenthero

Looks Like Your Husband Has No Objections  Bucky x female!reader x Zemo @becca-e-barnes

+this one with Zemo 

Zemo x F!Reader Headcanons - Cramps @buckyodinson

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[mrsmaxwelllord]

VIPEROUS – true self

Pairing: Dark!Zemo X F!Reader

Sumarry: You arrive home only to find out that you've gotten pregnant by the worst man you can think of.

Words: 1,5K

Warnings: zemo is not so sweet in this one. unplanned pregnancy. loneliness. daydreaming. self-doubt. fear. drink-spiking.

A/N: First of all, i know that unplanned pregnancy isn't everybody favorite plot and I'M SORRY.

But you didn't thought I'd name a fic "viperous" and not write zemo at his fcking worst, did you?

previous chapter

.

You had discovered it pretty early on.

 After parting ways with the boys, you were feeling furious. You didn’t bother saying your goodbyes or listening to theirs, you simply held your bags and walked away from Zemo’s private jet; no turning back, no fake smile. Although, you could pull your pissed expression only for a few minutes, as soon as you turned a corner tears blurred your vision.

 Nonetheless, you went your way. In less than 24 hours you got to your home country and ten hours later you arrived in the dense rainforest you called home. It took you a few days to settle in again, to forget — or better, to ignore — the fateful events and get back to your routine.

 You stayed recluse at your house for a bit more than a month, before you had to come down to the nearest village; your supplies had their days counted and you could no longer postpone a visit to the hospital, the wound in your ribs had healed but the area was still too sore.

 You were expecting a broken rib or two, but the blood test they ran came out with a different outcome. One that you had no idea how to deal with.

 A pregnancy. You were about six weeks pregnant. It was very hard to understand the simple sentence coming out of your Doctor's mouth, it seemed impossible even; but you haven't used any protection the last time you were intimate with someone.

 It was obvious to you who the father was and it terrified you. Zemo was miles away running away from James and Sam after having managed to kill Karli Morgenthau and half the members of the Flag-Smasher. He didn’t know your whereabouts or condition, yet even the idea of him finding out was enough to make you shiver. His actions in the past decade made it clear that he loved his son, yet, you didn’t know how he’d react this time around with a woman he didn’t know nor loved – all while hiding from her own friends.

 You weren't sure if you wanted to keep it, but something was clear in that moment: he could never know, no one could.

 So after getting the exam result and making sure your ribs were okay, you scheduled a prenatal appointment with a discreet Doctor in a distant city and went your way home.

.

 You had a lot to think about. Parenting a child was hard enough with the help of others, but completely alone… Yet, you realised quite fast you wanted to keep it. 

 You also realised that you didn’t know shit about babies. You spend the first trimester of your pregnancy researching and studying everything you could, buying everything the internet said you’d need and having horrible nightmares almost every week.

 Because you were worrying about everything at once, three month went by fast.

 The lovely lady who owned the grocery store you go to regularly became your acquaintance and gave you very good tips. Your most dear tea recipe — the one that could treat the worst of nauseas or anxiety — was given from her and even some sleeping position for when your belly gets too big. You were visiting her more and more, especially because your nightmare was making you kinda paranoid.

 There were two that seemed to never let you in peace. The first one involved the Avengers taking the baby away and was very simple, it was always James or Sam and you were left alone, crying. The second, though, was more stange; you had the baby in your hands, feeding him, and there was always a figure looking at you. Later, you followed their cry to a cradle, but it was empty and you knew exactly who took it.

 Most nights you wake up in a cold sweat. And you end up always thinking of Zemo. You tried your best to let it go, to forget about him but you were feeling really guilty and scared.

 In Madripoor, when you were in his arms, every concern you had seemed to go away and you longed for that feeling on a daily basis. You knew you couldn't have that. You didn't know where the hell he was, or wanted to be with a man who killed a child without any guilt. You agreed with Sam about Karli and really thought a solution could have been made if Zemo hadn't shot her – as you later found out.

 Sure, you wanted to feel the comfort of someone's warmth against you. You wanted to not have to think about the possible outcome of failing as a Mother. You wished you weren't feeling so alone.

 You wanted to have everything Helmut offered you in whispers back in that dirty town.

 However, you knew he could never leave the Raft if he ever gets caught and telling him of the child growing inside you would kill him because he couldn't be present. No matter how much you wished. So you resumed the little life you built for yourself.

 Sunbathing in the morning with a book in hand, eating healthy foods you were learning how to cook and visiting the small village down the hill once a week so you didn't feel so lonely.

 On the bad days, you liked to daydream about being someone's housewife; taking care of the chores got a lot easier when you were waiting for your husband to come back from work. Yet not even your silly little dreams could save you from the solitude late at night, when there was only your pillow with a cologne similar to his to hold on to.

.

 It was raining again — a thunderstorm this time. Lately it has been raining a lot, more than you had been accustomed to; not that you disliked it, you adored watching the lightning and thunder. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows you could see the sky clearly, the trees surrounding your house danced and howled as the thunder approached. 

 It was late in the night and you were terribly tired, but you simply could not let a thunderstorm go unwatched. In your childhood, you were terrified of them, you always ran to hide under your blankets with your teddy bear, but, somewhere in your teen years you became bewitched by the loud noise and the flashing lights.

 You were thinking of Helmut again, but, this time, something felt odd. It was almost like you could feel him thinking of you as well. A silly thought really, that you were connected somehow. You took a deep breath and rested in the chair.

 The idea of having a soulmate pleased you but the rational part of you knew you just wanted someone who you could trust fully and completely. A national terrorist couldn’t be that person. Especially not a dead one.

 Less than a week ago the news of him startled you, he had… died. They didn't specify exactly what happened in the little newspaper article except that the Winter Soldier had found Zemo after his attack on Captain America – well, John Walker – and that ended with his death. What was obviously a lie, James wouldn’t kill him. Would he? You were too afraid of looking deep into it. Perhaps… No. It hurted you to think about it.

 You reached out to grab your mug on the coffee table, but that felt like too much effort. In fact, everything felt overwhelming; you could not get up when you heard the front door keys moving, or when the sound around the house got close. Something was wrong with you, the tea made you way too sleepy. You tried to get up.

 When you turned around leaning on the armchair, your eyes got caught like a deer’s by the fleshlight on a road.

 There, standing at the door, the most frightful ghost of all. The soaking wet Baron stared right into your soul before smiling softly.

 “Liébling, what are you doing awake at this hour? Don’t you know it is bad for the baby?”

 You gasped and reached out for something on the coffee table, but ended up dropping the mug on the ground. The shattering startled you even more, in an attempt to get away you stepped into a piece of broken glass and fell down.

 The ghost of Helmut Zemo tried to approach, but upon seeing you hurt yourself further gave up.

 Now the palm of your hands were bleeding as well and you were hiding half of your body, still transfixed. The need to protect your womb was there, urging you to cover your belly with your hands or tighten the cardigan around you, but you resisted it.

 “I promised you I have no intention of hurting you. Ever” he whispered, taking a hesitant step.

 You couldn’t bring yourself to answer the ghost, shaking your head and raising your bloody hands to your face.

 “Liébling. Let me help you.”

 The sleepiness was now worse than before, you could feel yourself slipping away. Then you realise.

 “Helmut, what did you put in my drink?” He took the final steps to you and held you tight. The blood stained his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind a bit, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it chastely.

 “Don’t worry now. I’ll take care of you” he kissed your temple and your cheeks. Before falling unconscious, you remember thinking he still smelled the same.

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