#zemo x reader
Zemo: Croissants: dropped
Y/N: Road: works ahead
Joaquin: BBQ sauce: on my titties
Sam: Shavacado: fre
Sharon: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead
Bucky, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.
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Imagine Being Zemo’s Sugar Babies
A/N: This gif totally makes it look like Sam and Bucky are Zemo’s bodyguards and I love it.
Like Sam and Bucky, Zemo decided to give you a better life, allowing you and the boys to live with him.
All the high-end clothes, jewelry, shoes, and electronics you could ever ask for.
All the best food and drinks would be at your disposable. Even when the four of you would be at home or in hiding.
Endless parties around the world and attending professional or private meetings.
Front row seats to concerts, private art exhibitions, and fashion shows.
While Sam would change his mind about sending Zemo back to prison once he realized how well the four of you worked together.
No matter how perfectly weird it was.
You would never have to drive anywhere. Zemo or Sam would always take the wheel, or have a personal driver.
On the occasion where you did have to drive, Bucky would always accompany you, even if you had to go to the grocery store.
Bonding with Sam and Bucky.
So much bonding!
Those boys would do anything and everything in their power to protect you. And you would do the same for them.
Being the voice of reason whenever Sam and Bucky didn't see eye to eye with Zemo.
Sam and Bucky would be your best friends, as well as Zemo, but the three of you agreed to keep everything platonic, in fear of slipping up.
But when the time came to travel to Madripoor, you and Bucky would secretly lock fingers, despite you being Zemo’s “personal bodyguard” for the evening, and Bucky “stepping” into the Winter Soldier’s shoes again.
Once you and Zemo got separated from the boys, you immediately defended him, all the way until you all got back to the plane.
As soon as you landed in Latvia, Bucky couldn’t contain his feelings anymore, and confessed to you. You felt the same way for him and agreed to form a relationship in secret, only for Zemo and Sam to constantly tease you about it.
A/N pt. 2: I WANT this so much..
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Hi ! 8 + Helmut Zemo, please ? 🎇
Exhaustion (Zemo x Reader)
Prompt: “Come Here, I’ll carry you.”
Word Count: 395
“Schatzi” means Sweetheart
The relief you felt as you and Zemo walked through the door of your home was immense. After being out all day shopping, you were exhausted, and although he didn’t say anything, you knew he was too.
You kicked off your shoes, “We’re never going shopping again.”
Zemo smiled and hung his coat on the rack, “You’re the one who insisted we go to every store in the mall, schatzi.”
“Well you’re the one who told me I could buy whatever I wanted! You can’t tell me something like that, I’m too picky Hel, I wanna buy everything!”
He looked down at the many bags hanging from his arms, most likely cutting off circulation. “From the looks of it, you did buy everything.”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed a few of the bags, helping him carry them to the living room. You both sat everything on the couch and you looked over at the stairs.
“Oh what I would give for a hot bath right now,” you fell onto an empty spot on the couch, your back aching.
“Why don’t you go take one then?” Zemo was looking through the stuff that was bought, pulling out the new bottle of his favorite cologne.
“Because,” you frowned, “I don’t wanna go upstairs, my feet hurt.”
Zemo sighed. “Come here, I’ll carry you.”
Before you even had a chance to reject, he was picking you up, one arm supporting your back, the other looped under the bend of your knees. You gasped in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.
He chuckled and started making his way up the stairs.
“If you drop me-“
“I won’t, relax dear.”
True to his word, he didn’t drop you. He even went the extra mile, taking you to the master bathroom and sat you down on the counter next to the sink.
You watched as he went around, gathering towels, a fluffy loofah, and a silk robe, setting them all on the table next to the bath. Then, he started running the bath water, making sure it was the perfect temperature.
He looked to you once he deemed everything ready, and you couldn’t help but to walk over and kiss him. “You treat me so well, Helmut.”
“I simply treat you like the queen you are, my dear.” He placed a kiss to your forehead, “Enjoy your bath.”
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The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 1/?
Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.
While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo reflects upon his relationship to you, his only tether to his wife and closest friend.
Slow burn, previous relationships, angst, various mentions of death & mourning. You both lost your spouse. You're a regular civilian person. Zemo's wife's name is Heike because of comics.
Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won't say what she looks like but I envision her as a POC.)
I meant to write a one-shot but as it turns out I have feelings for this man.
I'll have part two by the end of the day and hope to update steadily.
He looks forward to coming face-to-face with Karli, the girl responsible for the birth of a new faction of Super Soldiers. His plan was simple really: He would find her and end her, just as he did Nagel.
Sam and James lack the conviction to do what needs to be done. It’s that weakness that makes Helmut invaluable—that and he’s the one with the private jet.
It’s night, so he prepares a meal for the three of them in the little kitchen near the cockpit.
As delicious aromas permeate the air, James relaxes on the couch near the back of the plane. Sam sits across from him, attempting to contact an associate. He hopes the man can help them find Karli’s mentor, Donya Madani.
But Helmut knows from experience how strenuous locating displaced persons can be.
After all, when the Avengers left Sokovia in an irreparable state, he searched displacement camps for his remaining friends and family—finding the dead was much easier.
Sam’s associate won’t find Donya as long as she’s alive. They’ll have to wait.
In the meantime, the jet would need refueling, and he simply refuses to spend his time listening to Sam and James bicker about shields and symbols. They would need somewhere to stay.
“Now what?” James asks, his voice and disposition bitter as Helmut hands him the plate. He eyes the meal with suspicion.
“We wait” Sam can barely withhold his frustration with James, but he accepts the food with a nod.
“For how long?”
“For as long as it takes.”
Whatever this is between them, it’s fraying—ripping at the seams.
If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.
Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.
“I know of a place we can go until then.” Helmut settles down into his chair and orders Oeznik to adjust their course towards Spain. He’d know where to port.
The journey would be long and annoying, but he would handle it as handled every arduous thing: with patience and a glass of whiskey.
And his impending headache will be well worth it; he can’t wait to see you again.
You were a friend of his wife, an artist she met at University.
Heike longed to see the world outside the trappings of nobility and studied abroad. She didn’t expect to meet a friend so quickly.
You were there for the important dates — the engagement, the wedding, and the baby.
He’s known you for years.
But despite your presence in his life, Helmut never really thought to consider you a friend, not really. Heike liked you, you were kind, and the rest mattered little to him.
But when his wife hosted dinner for her milestone birthday, your life became entangled with his. Because on that day, you caught the eye of his oldest friend, Dominik.
His family had been nobility once, many years ago, but Dominik had no title; he was free to live his life with impunity. Society wouldn’t care if the person he married was Sokovian or not, and no one would talk if they weren’t from old money. There might have been looks or whispers, but most were content to him be.
He could have chased after anyone—but you enchanted him from the beginning. You came from a different world, a different place; he valued your perspective and admired your art.
“They would make such a cute couple, wouldn’t they?” Heike asked that evening, her eyes filled with mischievous glee.
Helmut remembered a particular day when he found his friend thumbing through a pile of books you considered 'essential reading.' He was never meant to read them all at once, but he was determined to impress you.
"I asked about her favorites," he told him, "She really likes to read."
Endlessly curious, Helmut read them too. (He found the one on Pre-Columbian art extremely insightful, as was the one on Marvin Gaye.)
But it wasn’t until a year later that he realized the true depth of his feelings for you.
Usually, when Dominik received your amorous letters, he would grin and gloat about it.
“Look,” he would say, waving the envelope around as if it were your banner. “I have someone waiting for me.“
But one night, after a tough mission near the border of Lithuania, Helmut watched his friend pull your letter from the pocket of his uniform. The night was damp and freezing from the rain, but he read it quickly, thumbing at the wrinkled page with a smile.
He was happy for him, happy for you.
So Helmut watched your courtship from afar, offering advice and guidance where he could. Eventually, he attended your wedding.
It took a great deal of compromise for you to move to Sokovia (you found the contemporary art and film cultures lacking) but once you did, he and Heike entertained you on holidays.
There had been no children between you, but there was plenty of love.
There was so much love. In fact, someone found your letter in his pocket on the day they pulled him from the rubble of Novi Grad.
“Does anyone know where his wife is?” An officer asked.
“Does anyone know where anyone is?” Another replied.
It was an endless cycle of death and sorrow. People found soldiers and civilians buried.
Some were alive, most were dead.
People cried, families broke apart, people begged and fell limp in the streets.
Helmut buried his entire family.
You buried the love of your life.
Not for the first time did you have something in common, but this was the first thing that truly mattered.
You had no one left.
You made a beautiful speech at the service, one that spoke to the volumes of love you had for him.
"I loved him," you said, "and he loved me. He made me feel welcome, made me feel safe."
But when the service was over, you stood at the site of his freshly dug grave (just one in a long row of others) to say your private goodbyes.
After a while, Helmut joined you.
"I stand here and yet… I still can’t believe it.” You said, eyes cast down. “They’re gone.”
All because of the Avengers.
“What will I do without him?”
“… I’ll take care of you,” he promised.
“Thank you, Helmut. But… I…” You wanted to tell him you’d be alright. But the lie lodged itself in the back of your throat and a sob pushed forward instead. You cried.
“Please… It’s what they would have wanted. Heike and Carl… they adored you. I can do this much at least.“
You, the only thing he had left of the ones he loved.
He didn’t want to let you go.
Thanks for reading! Look out for part two! The reader will have more interaction with Zemo.
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Dude Cursed is right up my alley I fuckin love the idea bless you
💜 I'm so excited to hear that! 💜
I really want to go for some dark gothic vibes. 😍 Honestly, I'm excited for it myself! Been putting together a little Pinterest board to help with visualisation and everything 😂
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Hi! Hope you are having a lovely day! I was wondering if you could do a concept where Zemo has to marry again (pretending that he didn't go to prison ) and if you could make the reader British so I can subtly live through it. Thank you!! :)
[Oh my-, I absolutely love the idea of Zemo finding love again & going as far as tying the knot! Hope your day is going great, too! <3] | Headcanons for Zemo & others are open!
Zemo Marrying A British!Reader Headcanons
[no pronouns used]
First of all, the moment his eyes fell to your figure, he knew you would somehow change his life, though he was not quite sure how.
You were absolutely gorgeous & while he was not a man to care too much about looks, simply because personality was the most important trait for him, you made his body act out in the best way possible. One look & he was utterly smitten.
But it seemed like you had some tricks up your sleeves. Your first conversation had him falling head over heels. You talked about everything & nothing in particular. Small talk.
BUT YOUR ACCENT!
It was no secret that he was a sucker for the way you pronounced words with such casualty because you were not even aware that your voice could have that effect on someone else.
When you two talked, it was the sweetest mix of accents that was so different & yet blended together seamlessly.
While it was not the only reason for you guys to end up dating (Zemo could have written a list with thousands of reason, honestly. For example your shared love for tea.) it was definitely a part of why you were so interesting to him.
Dating, for once, was alright but when he found himself craving to show you how truly in love he was with you, he came across a border he had set for himself.
Marriage. After his family died, he promised himself to never marry again. It was some sort of loyalty to his wife & his son.
Then you waltzed into his life & the urge to break his promise became harder to resist each & every day. Because you smiled at him like he was the only one in this universe. You cared for him with such gentleness, it made him doubt if he even deserved it. You.
It was worth taking a risk & he finally found enough courage to ask you.
You watched his innocent, almost shy eyes as he was down on one knee, showcasing the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.
You said yes. Of course you did. Anything else would not have made sense.
The wedding took place in your hometown. It was Zemo’s idea. Because maybe he kind of fell in love with British accents? With yours in the first place, if you were entirely honest.
It was just the two of you, a small ceremony. Just like you had always dreamed.
During your vows, Zemo was completely vulnerable in front of you. Opening up about his fears of taking that step again but finding the needed courage inside of your big heart you offered to him. He ended his speech with a bit more humor, just like you expected him to.
“I must say, my love, your accent was a curse I could not resist.”
MY Ko-fi PAGE | Marvel-Masterlist
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Omg I just saw your “cursed” post and lemme tell you this. It’s going to wreck and kill me in the best way possible, I just know it lol
😂😂😂 Thank you so much, sweetheart.
I'm super excited! Once the idea for cropped up of a Zemo 'Beauty and the Beast' style AU, I couldn't get it out of my head. ♥️
It's going to be so much fun! 🥰
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me: I desperately want to write some zemo smut but I’m stuck on a premise
my id: literally just write about him jacking off while thinking about the reader???
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Very short. Soft... i tried. It's for Jasper :))
Ship: Zemo x Male!reader (Jasper's self insert)
Summary: Maple Syrup isn't the only thing sweet about this particular morning.
im so sorry if this is terrible
The smell of cinnamon wafted across the kitchen as butter sizzled in the circular frying pan. Two slices of French toast caked with egg, cinnamon and brown sugar, were slowly toasting away as Jasper wiped up the counter.
It was nearly four o’clock in the morning, and the young man’s eyes burned from exhaustion. However, he couldn’t sleep. He’d woke up around an hour ago after a rather… disturbing nightmare. Not even snuggling up to his lover in bed could ease the anxiety that lingered.
So, the blonde boy found himself bustling about the spacious kitchen of his home. Trying to tip toe across the ceramic tile floor as he decided to become Gordon Ramsay at the crack of dawn.
The almost headache inducing aroma of the burning cinnamon had Jasper in a bit of a daze, his brain not quite awake. The boy flipped his toast, and flecks of hot liquid butter spat at him. Jasper jumped back with a gasp, which would have been a yelp of surprise if there wasn’t someone else asleep.
The sound of bare feet padding down the hallway alerted Jasper that his attempts at keeping quiet had failed. A man’s loud yawn came echoing down the hall before he came into view.
Standing in his wrinkled cotton boxers and long, dark navy blue house coat, Zemo blinked a few times. He squinted in the bright kitchen lights, his eyes not quite adjusting. The older man stretched out his arms, and wobbled through the threshold. The poor man looked like he'd slept through Armageddon.
“Good… morning-” he said in a hoarse, scratchy voice. Jasper looked up from his frying pain and smiled softly. He watched fondly as Zemo made his way over to the stove slowly, slightly disoriented from the lights.
“Morning. You’re up early.” The blonde boy spoke quietly as he prodded at the French toast with a fork. Zemo peered into the pain and inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes as he moved closer, wrapping his tired arms around Jasper’s waist from behind. He rested his chin on the boy’s shoulder for a moment.
“I couldn’t help myself. The bed was cold.” The Sokovian said with a faint smile on his thin lips. Jasper leaned into his chest, and couldn’t resist the urge to smile himself when Zemo planted a sweet morning kiss to his cheek.
“I had I nightmare… I would have stayed-”
“No need to apologize, Schatz.” Zemo cooed as he loosened his arms and headed for the refrigerator. His hand lingered on Jasper’s hip for the fraction of a second. The older man yanked open the fridge door, retrieving the carton of two percent milk.
Zemo had the absolute audacity to pop the corner of the carton and drink right from the lip. Jasper caught this from the corner of his eye as he plated the French toast and shot Zemo an unimpressed look.
“Really?” he asked. Zemo stopped mid swallow and his eyes looked over at his lover, before slowly lowering the carton. He outstretched his arm with a smile. A little bit of a milk mustache on his upper lip, making the man look silly. Jasper simply rolled his eyes with a smile and turned off the top burner on the stove.
Jasper reached above the stove and opened the cupboard, the hinges squeaking a little as he did. The blonde boy grabbed the glass syrup bottle from the shelf and carried it with him.
He walked across the kitchen to the center piece island with elegant barstools seated across the ledge. A large light fixture hung above, illuminating even the tiniest specs of black in the white marble counter top. Jasper pulled up a bar stood. Popping the cap of the syrup, he drowned the toast in the sweet, sticky liquid. His stomach rumbled aggressively as his mouth watered, ready for breakfast.
Zemo was pacing around the kitchen, a bit like a lost dog looking for food scraps as he investigated the empty pan, still smoking slightly. The whole kitchen smelled strong of Jasper’s breakfast.
“You wouldn’t happen to have made more of that, would you, Jasper?” Zemo asked tenderly, slowly approaching the center island like he wasn’t about to ask for Jasper’s food. The blue-eyed boy looked down at his two slices of cinnamon toast.
“Grab a fork, we can share-”
Zemo seemed to perk up at this, and he smiled. The Sokovian pulled a little too hard on the silverware draw, causing the cutlery inside to rattle as he picked a fork and shuffled on over. Zemo pulled up a bar stool, sitting to Jasper’s left, his chair angled.
Zemo took it upon himself to start syphoning off pieces from Jasper’s second toast. As the two of them ate, the sun started to peak over the horizon. It washed the kitchen in a warm honey yellow glow.
“What are your diabolical plans for today?” Jasper asked, shoving a rather large piece into his mouth. Zemo gazed up, his dark eyes meeting Jasper’s as he raised a brow.
“Diabolical? Unless you consider reading books and drives to the bakery in Novi Grad ‘diabolical’ I think you will be disappointed.” The older man sighed, and picked at another piece of French toast.
“The only thing I’m disappointed in is they don’t have a Starbucks in Novi Grad.” Jasper complained half-heartedly with a smile. Zemo gave him a puzzled expression for a second.
“I could make you coffee, if you’d like, my love.”
Jasper almost choked on his French toast, trying to suppress a laugh. He covered his mouth as he quickly chewed and swallowed. A breathy chuckle escaping him.
“Zemo. Darling. Love of my life…” jasper looked the man dead in his eyes,
“I love you with all of my heart but I don’t trust your barista skills. Stay away from my coffee maker.” the boy joked with a wide smile. Zemo almost looked offended before making a face and nodding slowly in agreement. As if he even thought of a reason why he shouldn't.
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MACK OH MY FUCKING GOD
i just saw your post about Cursed and i am absolutely living for it!!!! can't wait already hehe
THANK YOU, MY LOVE! 💜
Honestly, I'm super psyched for this one. Need to plan exactly how I'm going to do it. I like the idea of gothic vibes.
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AU! Pro racer Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Work in progress
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Wanna feel like going 100 on a flaming red Ferrari with Niki Lauda but you don't have you're driver license yet and Niki Lauda neither?
I got the perfect thing for you buba ❤️
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Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Zemo stared at his phone which he had sat on his desk. His car has been fixed up and he was about to go test run it, but his mind wasn't focused on the car. All he could think about was you.
Sam pokes his head into the office.
"Ready for the test run?"
Zemo looks up, acting as if his mind hasn't been elsewhere, and nodded. He glances at his phone once more before leaving with Sam.
You hadn't contacted him and he was missing you. He had no idea it would be this bad. It had been a couple of days since you had left and he was wishing time had paused that day, anything to spend a few extra minutes with you.
He looks at his car. He needed to put his racing mind on. He grabs his helmet, and gears up. Once he's in the car, he is in racer mode.
When you stepped off the train, your friend was waiting eagerly. She squealed as she ran over to you and pulled you into a hug. You chuckled as she nearly caused you to fall over.
"I've missed you!"
"I was only gone a couple of days," you chuckle.
"I know, but still. Something super amazing has happened and I'm about to lose my mind!"
"What is it?"
You both begin to leave the station, you eager to hear what is so exciting.
"Remember Tony Stark?"
Of course you did. You had literally seen him that weekend, racing.
As you exit the station, you come to a stop. Right in front of you is a limousine. Sleek, black, and expensive looking.
You look at your friend in shock.
Tony Stark climbs out of the limo before she can. You stare in shock. What was he even doing here? Shouldn't he be off training for the next race? Why was he here?
Your friend skips over to him and he places an arm around her.
"What is happening?"
Your friend smiles away, leaning against the billionaire beside her. Maybe you were imagining this. Tony Stark could not be here.
"Y/N, this is my boyfriend."
You are so sure your brain malfunctioned right there. You drop your bag and try to figure if you actually heard that.
You friend laughs as she grabs your bag and puts it into the limo.
"For real?" You ask, looking at Stark.
"For real." He grins.
"Come on, we'll take you home," your friend urges you into the limo. You cannot believe this is happening.
Once you're all in, your friend gives the driver your address and you all set off. You can only stare as she practically drapes herself over his lap.
You feel so confused.
The car was filled only with silence for the reminder of the ride. It was awkward and suffocating, but there was nothing you could say.
When the limo stopped outside of your apartment, you climbed out. Your friend got out too. You pulled her off to the side.
"How? When? How long has this been a thing?" You ask, rapidly firing out your questions.
"He asked me out. That night a couple weeks ago. At the party. The one you didn't come to."
"And you're only mentioning this now?"
"He asked me to wait, so I did. Then a couple days ago, he called me and said he was ready for to tell people."
"A couple of days ago? Friday?"
You glance back at the car. Friday was race day. Was that a coincidence?
"I'm your friend, why didn't you tell me?"
"I promised I wouldn't until he said I could. I really like him Y/N."
"Do you? Are you in love with him because he's amazing and loves you? Or because he's your favourite pro racer and billionaire?" You narrow you gaze at her.
Her jaw is clenched, eyes hazy with tears.
"That's not fair."
"It's very fair. I don't think you've thought this through."
She let's her tears fall, drops your bag at your feet, pushes you back, and then climbs into the car. You watch the limo drive off before you pick up your bag and go inside your home.
Something didn't sit right with you.
You throw your bag on your bed, deciding to unpack later, and slump down on your sofa. Your mind flickered to Zemo.
You hadn't contacted him. You could have done so on the train. You grab your phone and send him a message.
You: Hey :) I hope I didn't keep you waiting.
You put the phone down and wait. He was probably busy, but you would wait. Closing your eyes, you could almost imagine being back in his car, speeding down the road like crazy. You missed that feeling.
Life was too slow now.
You yearned to be a part of Zemo's lifestyle. You wanted to be beside him, cheering his name, watching as he wins against Stark.
Speaking of, you would have to make arrangements. You needed to check your work schedule and make sure you had that weekend off.
You didn't want to miss a race.
You feel asleep with those thoughts. The wind in your hair, laughter filling the car, Zemo looking over at you with a smile. He was right there in your dreams.
Zemo had done several laps up and down the runway. He would take it down to the track tomorrow to test it out proper, but for now it was in great condition.
The moment he changed out of his gear, he went to collect his things from the office. Picking up his phone, his heart leaped with joy when he saw the text.
You: Hey :) I hope I didn't keep you waiting.
He smiled at his phone and immediately saved your number.
It felt right to put you in his phone like that. He mentally scolded himself for getting carried away, but he didn't change it. He left it like that and replied.
Zemo: You did, but I'll forgive you. You can make it up to me when I see you next.
He smiled as he tucked his phone away and prepared to head home. On the drive home, his mind turned to you again. There was a silly grin on his face. He would take this third race as a sign. If you showed up, he would take you for that drink, and maybe something would happen. He was not ready to let you go just yet.
A thought crossed his mind.
What if he visited you before the race? He would surely be able to get you to give up your address to him. You would with the drive up. Maybe next could take a peek into your life.
Would you like that?
Never before had he questioned himself so much. When it came to you, there was doubt in his mind. It's not as if you were his anyway. Friend? Yes, quite possibly. Nothing more.
Yet, he yearned for it.
Would you enter his world if invited you? Perhaps he would keep that question up his sleeve until the time seemed right.
It wasn't until he was at home that he got a reply. You must have been busy.
You: That's fair. Assuming I make it, of course.
He smiled at your response.
Zemo: I'll be disappointed if you don't come. I may need your luck again.
You: Yes, because that went so well last time.
Zemo: My losing was no your fault. I blame Stark.
There was several minutes of silence before your next response.
You: How is the car?
Zemo: In working order. I'm going to tinker with it some more. I won't stop until it's up to standard.
You: You must be very busy then.
Zemo: Not too busy that I can't talk to you.
It was so easy to be all bold when you were communicating by text.
You: Cute, but I'm not falling for that ;)
Two could play that game, it seemed.
Zemo: May I ask you something?
You: Of course
Zemo: Where do you work?
You: Why? I can tell you now, it's no where as cool as your job.
Zemo: I want to know more about you.
There was another pause before your response. This one was a little longer than other and Zemo wondered if he had crossed a line.
Then you replied.
You: At cafe, it's called The Redwing. Nice enough place, but not as exciting as your job.
The Redwing? He had heard that name before. Sam came to mind as he thought about it. Zemo smiled.
Zemo: Sounds interesting to me.
You: If you say so. No fast cars here though, just people wanting coffee.
Zemo: I want to hear more, but perhaps some other time. I should eat before I fall asleep on my couch. See you soon?
A couple minutes go by, and then:
You: Maybe ;)
He smiled a smug grin as he put his phone down. He would see you soon, you just didn't know how soon.
Seemed like Zemo had a call to make.
@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch
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It has just become known to me that fanfic trades are a thing!?!?
Bitch I'm ready. Who wants a trade?
I need angsty,hurt/comfort Zemo x male reader content please.
Just fluff stuff no NSFW.
I can write for Steve, Bucky, Tony, Zemo. (Might be able to do others, just ask)
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Love and support | Helmut Zemo
Requested by anon
Autistic reader. I tried my best with the research I did. I hope this is alright. I apologise for any inaccuracies.
I've done this as headcanons as I couldn't come up with a good plot for a fic 😔 I hope that's alright.
Zemo is very attentive.
He does whatever he needs to make sure you're happy and comfortable.
He's always keeping an eye on you.
Knowing him means a lot of things can happen, and it can be overwhelming.
Zemo will never put you out of your comfort zone unless absolutely necessary.
He always has time for you.
Anything you want to do or share, he'll be there.
Does not take kindly to anyone who has nothing nice to say about you.
Zemo is an extremely patient man.
He will happily sit and talk with you for hours about anything and everything.
Hates to see you get upset over things.
But he always knows how to cheer you up.
You can ask him for anything.
Say the word and it's yours.
Knows all your little cues.
Will leave you alone when needed.
But he will always be near by incase you need him.
He knows you can struggle sometimes, but it's all OK because he will help you.
There is nothing he won't do for you.
This man has all the love and care you could ask for.
Loves how happy you get over things you're passionate about.
Never gets tired of listening to talk passionately about things you love.
May even indulge himself into your passions too.
He likes to feel a part of your world.
If everything becomes too much, he is right there beside you.
As I said before, there is nothing he won't do to help you.
Call his name and he'll come running.
Where Zemo is concerned, you're safest by his side.
@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406
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Two of my miniseries will continue with an actual schedule!
"Gold Rush" (Sebastian Stan x Reader): two parts are out already & three more are planned/written. Part three will be posted on Saturday & the last two each on the following Saturdays. [tags are open]
"Stockholm Syndrome" (Helmut Zemo x Reader): the second part will be posted this Sunday & the last one the following week. Be aware that this series will have an 18+ rating! [tags are open]
As always: all works will be crossposted on my AO3 so if you don't wanna miss anything, make sure to follow me there :)
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Cursed is absolutely going to kill me, isn't it?
It's going to kill me. The concept popped into my head three days ago and I haven't been able to think of anything else since.
I've always loved the 'Beauty and the Beast' story. In-fact, my own WIP is a very loose rendition of the story but more a fantasy-horror style with a darker ending!
Also, the tale of Hades and Persephone has always been one of my favourite myths, and the two are so similar that it made sense to take elements from both.
I also really think that the styles suit Zemo? You could just see his character as the intense Hades/Beast type.
✨Anyhow, incase you missed it I'm planning a Zemo AU✨
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Candy Coated 4
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), oral, fingering, coercion, control, power play.
This is dark!Zemo x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: You’ve always felt like you’re running from behind to catch up, but after a chance encounter with an enigmatic man, your life gets ahead of you.
Note: Tomorrow is the finale for Birch!Loki and then if you guys are into it, I can post the first part of Birch!Sam? Or I don’t know. I have to finish some things that I have half done as well, including a Jensen one shot, the next chapter of this, and hopefully some long-awaited Secrets?
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
You watched yourself in the floor length mirror. Your hands fumbled to tuck the top of the towel firmly under. You could feel the humidity seeping in from just a few feet behind the door. The large change room was vacant and lent to your sense of desolation.
Everything around you was so lush. You’d never been to a spa before and you couldn’t even guess at the price tag paid for your visit. You could hardly bask in it, not only because of the circumstance of the man who brought you there, but because you couldn’t help but languish in the mire of your roommates’ chagrin.
It wasn’t about the rent, Mal insisted, it was that you were leaving so suddenly and without explanation. You did your best to convince her that it was for your internship, to get closer to the ministry, but the arrival of the movers hardly helped her believe you. Oliver said little as was his habit but his demeanour was less than passive. You promised you’d still see them but even that could not assuage them.
You carried it with you. The car ride, that day just you and the Baron in a glossy black sports car, was mostly silent as you kept from chewing your nails under the weight of the not so happy departure. Your overnight bag was in the backseat and the white lingerie was just beneath the zipper. Your escort hardly comforted you with his few careless and mostly lurid words.
You snapped back to the present, almost dizzy from how quickly that man turned your life upside down. You were here in the lap of luxury, in the shadow of his wife. You pressed your hands to the front of the towel, fingers spread wide, and exhaled. You cleared your throat and nodded at yourself in the mirror. You really did look pathetic, no wonder he scouted you out among the pack.
You took the robe from the hook and pulled it around you. You went to the door and peeked out into the hall. He was there, waiting, robe open without a care as only a short towel wrapped around his lower half. The rug of dark hair along his chest thinned out down his stomach and disappeared beneath the fluffy linen. He raised a brow and titled his head at you as you forced yourself out from behind the door.
“No need to be modest,” he intoned, “I’ve bought out the entire sauna. We will have our privacy.”
He held you his hand and you stared at it for just a second. You took it and let him guide you further down the mosaic tile to the large arched doors. Two attendants stood without and pulled them open as you neared. You stepped through into the steamy room and they quickly closed you in.
You mimicked him as he let you go and removed his robe to hang by the door. You did the same, squirming at the bareness of your shoulders and legs, quickly fixing your towel before it could slip away.
“I hope you are not so forgetful as me but I did not ask,” he purred as he led you along to a long curved bench, “did you bring it?”
It. You knew what he meant. You sat beside him as he leaned back on his hands and basked in the wet warmth. You couldn’t relax, you crossed your legs and arms and hunched forward as once more you sank into despairing thoughts.
You shouldn’t be here as movers were in your apartment, disturbing your roommates. You shouldn’t be moving into a married man’s penthouse, you shouldn’t be working a position you hadn’t earned.
You wiped your forehead shakily and winced as his hand stretched over the back of your towel.
“You’re so tense, you must let the steam do its work,” he rubbed you through the fabric, “you earned the break.”
“I earned none of it,” you murmured, “I don’t think--” you tried to stand and he caught your arm. You looked at him and tried not shy away from his dark eyes. His forehead wrinkled haughtily, “I will leave the ministry, you can take back all you’ve given me, and I will pay you back once I--”
“You’ve quit your job, as I told you to, you’ve left your meagre hospice, and you’ve come this far,” he said, “you are being so good, do you really want to ruin all that?”
You gulped and your face fell. You turned your chin down. He won so easily and even as you said those words, thought aloud desperately, you knew it was all a bunch of pretense. Why were you still holding out?
He was right, you knew when you accepted his first gift that it was more than just a kind gesture. Your insecurity may have told you otherwise but you were an adult and you couldn’t hide behind naivete any longer.
“Sit back,” he nudged you until your back met the low stone edge and you held yourself up with stiff arms as you tried to relax, “just… breathe… close your eyes.”
You bit your tongue and slowly lowered your lashes. You quivered as he ran his knuckles along your bare arm and traced a line over your collar bone. His hot breath mingled with the steam and his lips followed his fingertips.
You gripped the bench and every muscle in your body was strung like a bow. His touch added to the flurry in your stomach and chest. He kissed and nipped your neck and you did nothing to stop him. You couldn’t tell if you were paralysed by fear or futility.
He tickled your thigh and you pushed your legs together. He tutted and poked his fingers into the tender flesh until you let your knees fall apart. He trailed up the inside of your leg and purred. He raised his head and grabbed your chin with his other hand. He held your chin and kissed you as he teased the little patch of hair beneath your towel.
“I can help you relax, dear,” he rasped and kissed you again.
He delved between your folds and sent a shiver through you as he grazed your clit. He swirled his fingers around your sensitive bud and you gasped into his mouth as his tongue poked past your lips. You grabbed his arm but didn’t push him away.
Amidst the confusion of your body and mind, you wondered if maybe he would tire of you once it was over. Maybe if you let him get what he wanted, he would leave you alone. There was little logic in the hope but it made his trespass easier.
He slid his fingers along your cunt, lingering along your clit until you slickened against him. He hooked his leg over yours and forced your knees wider. His other arm wrapped around you and held your head as he kissed you deeper and prodded along your entrance. You tried to pull back but he kept you against him and pushed inside with two fingers.
You squeezed his arm tighter and groaned into his mouth. He pressed his thumb to your clit as he curled his fingers inside of you. You trembled as your flesh both crawled and sang at his touch.
He released your head, his arm still snaked around you and buried his face in your shoulder as his hot breath brushed along your skin. Your towel came undone and bared you entirely. He hummed and dipped his head lower as he forced you to lean back until you were parallel with the bench. You reached up to hold yourself up against the next stone seat.
You laid in a painful limbo over the bench, legs arched against the stone as he bent to take your nipple in his mouth, his hand moving faster with each ragged pant from your chest. Your thighs squeezed his hand and the blood rushed to your head and pulsed as you sensed your climax closing in.
You cried out, muffling it with your palm as you contorted on the stone and he nuzzled between your tits as he urged you through your orgasm. You bit down on the heel of your hand as the ripples faded out and left you breathless and buzzing.
He sat up and pulled you against him, his arm at your waist, and he shifted on the bench. He grinned at you with smoky eyes and dropped his arm. He pushed your numb legs together and brought your towel back up over your chest and knotted it firmly in the middle. He sighed and his damp fingers danced along your neck.
“Now I think I might have some trouble relaxing,” he remarked and sat straight, leaning back once more with his legs out casually, his towel tented indecently, “but I will try.”
You were in a daze when you returned to the room. The immense suite was on ground level and opened up to a private pool and serene landscape beyond. Everything was pristine white and polished marble. It was finer than any place you’d ever been and reminded you again of your debt to this man. Still your mind was too fuzzy to feel terribly.
You laid face down as the hired masseuse kneaded at your muscles, Zemo on the table next to you. As nice as it felt, not all kinks could be smoothed out. When at last your series of masks, massages, and wraps were finished, you felt entirely unlike yourself. You felt as if this man was molding you to fit his needs. You knew he was.
You sat in your robe after the last of the staff left, a glass of sparkling wine in your hand. The bubbles made you hiccup and you quickly gave up on trying to finish it as Zemo nursed a glass of dark liquor and peered out through the open sliding doors. The sky dimmed slowly beyond and cast an azure tint over the pool.
“Well, dear,” he turned and sat in one of the armchairs, “I think I have waited long enough.”
You twined your fingers through each other and sat up. The corners of his lips curved and his lashes flicked as he looked you up and down.
“I want to see it,” he said, “it did look so nice in the picture.”
You smiled sheepishly, or maybe it was grimace, and stood. You went to the dresser where the staff had unpacked your bag. That was embarrassing but you figure there was little disillusion left between you and the baron.
You took the baby doll and without looking back, you scurried into the bathroom and locked yourself in. That was it. Once you put this thing on and walked through the door, it was done. You were going to fuck a married man for an internship and money. Your whole future would be owed to him.
You avoided your reflection as you took off the robe and pulled on the skimpy panties and lacy baby doll. You knew you looked ridiculous. You deleted the picture off your side of the chat right after sending because of that. You turned to the door and staggered back.
You sat on the lid of the toilet and gripped the edge of the sink. You couldn’t help but let the fit overwhelm you as your breathing picked up. You bent over and rocked as you tried to focus. You looked around, name five blue things. Well, everything was fucking white!
You counted the tiles instead and eventually calmed enough to stand up again. You shook out the nerves as best you could and crossed to the door. You pulled it open and found the baron exactly as you left him. He drained the last of his drink and looked over at you with delight.
“Ah, even better in person,” he stood and you stopped just outside the bathroom as he neared, “come on, let me see all of it.”
He twirled his finger in the air and you turned. He dragged his hand over your ass and you squeaked in surprise. He quickly pushed his arms around you and pulled you back against him. You felt his arousal as he cupped your tits through the fabric and squeezed.
“You’re so sexy, baby girl,” he swayed you against him, “you like it when I call you baby girl?”
You wanted to rip his hands away and run but you didn’t. You closed your eyes and wetted your dry lips. “Yes,” you lied.
“Mmm,” he rocked his hips, “I could fuck you just like this.”
You went rigid as he pulled down the cups of the lingerie and teased your nipples with his thumbs. He nuzzled the back of your head as he rocked you with him. He slid the fabric back up over your chest and his hands glided down your stomach and to your hips.
“Tell me you want me, baby girl,” he purred, “tell me you want my dick.”
Your eyes opened suddenly and you nearly choked as he gripped your hips. He prodded you impatiently with his erection and you shuddered.
“I want…” you croaked and caught your breath, “I want your dick…”
“My lord,” he added, “you may call me ‘my lord’ when I fuck you.”
“I want you dick, my lord,” you repeated the antiquated title, the words demeaning in themselves, reminding you of how low you truly were.
“Go,” he turned you with him and nudge you towards the bed, “up on there.”
He pointed you ahead of him and you went to the bed. You climbed up on the mattress as he followed. You heard the swish of fabric and looked back to find him entirely naked, his robe disposed on the floor. You quickly averted your eyes as his cock bobbed before him as he came closer.
“Turn, all the way,” he said, “stay on your knees.”
You did as he said and when he was at the foot of the bed, he took your hands and placed them flat on the mattress. He drew away and stroked his length as he angled it at your face. He stepped up and ran his tip along your lips.
You gulped and forced your mouth open. He slid past your lips and across your tongue. He poked at the back of your throat and moaned as you struggled to take him deeper. He eased back and tried again, tilting his hips until he could glide in further.
You gagged and he pushed until your lips met his skin. He bent over you and felt along your back, groping your ass as he thrust his hips carefully. Your through tightened around him as you tried not to choke and his hands rested on your waist as he moved your body against him.
The sloppy noises filled the room and stoked the flame of both humiliation and delight. He stood back and reached under your arms to once more play with your tits, as his other hand stretched over your throat and he felt himself moving beneath.
“Oh, baby girl, I knew you could be good for me,” he snarled, “just like that.”
Your jaw ached as he used your mouth. You grasped at his thigh and slapped as he sped up. You weren’t sure you could handle much more. You were out of breath, your head spinning, and you felt another fit rising.
Suddenly, he pulled out and hissed as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. He gritted his teeth as you spit hung off his tip and he chuckled.
“That was close,” he said, “too good, baby girl.”
You looked up at him and wiped your mouth. He inhaled deeply as his eyes roved over you.
“Lay back,” he said, “it’s your turn… you know I can be generous, baby girl.”
You pushed yourself back on your heels and pulled your legs out from beneath you and laid back. He climbed onto the mattress and grabbed your ankles as he parted your legs and settled between them. He planted his hands beside your thighs and bent over you. He pressed his nose to the thin crotch of your panties.
He moved so that you felt his hot breath through the fabric and moved his mouth against it. He didn’t bother moving them aside as he kept on. Soon enough, you felt your peak nearing and pushed your pelvis into him as you came through your panties.
“So delicate,” he sat up and rubbed your wet panties with his hand, “so responsive.”
You shakily touched your cheeks as you peered up at him. He snapped his fingers and curled his index as he directed you wordlessly.
You sat up with a weak “my lord” on your swollen lips and he sat back as he drew you over his lap. He directed you down until you felt his tip against your panties and he reached between you to tug aside the fabric. He angled his cock past your entrance and you moaned through your teeth. He sank into you as you gripped his shoulders tightly.
Your walls were snug around his cock as he pushed his face between your tits. He kept a hand on your hip, the other hooked over your shoulder as he moved you against him. He rocked his pelvis in time with your body and your hands slipped over his shoulders. You hugged his head as he nipped and sucked at your nipples.
You closed your eyes as the last of your doubt slaked away and you descended into the sheer pleasure of the moment. He filled you so completely that every move sent a ripple through you. Your clit brushed against his pelvis firmly and added to the pressure in your core.
You clung to him tighter as suddenly you were jolted and he flipped you easily onto the mattress. He stayed inside of you as he pinned you beneath him and gripped the side of your head as he pressed his cheek to yours. He panted down your neck as he fucked you into the mattress and you felt as if you would implode.
“Do you want to cum, baby girl?” he asked.
“Ask nicely and you can cum,” he growled.
“Can I cum… my lord?” you breathed.
“Manners,” he warned.
“Please, can I cum, my lord?” you asked again and groaned.
He thrust harder and faster and whispered against your temple, “cum”. You cried out and writhed against him, clawing at his back as you came. He grunted and lifted his head as he spread his hand over your chest and jerked roughly. Each dip moved you higher up the mattress until your crown hit the headboard.
He bared his teeth as he pulled out of you quickly and pushed open the front of the baby doll top. He stroked himself onto your stomach as his voice fizzled into the air and his hot cum spurted over your skin. He quaked as he finished and dropped his hand from his dick. He huffed and bit his lip as he admired the mess he’d made.
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The Last Chthonian
Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader
A/N: Part 11 is finally finished lovelies! Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! 🖤🔮🖤
Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside.
Warnings: language, violence, and blood
It felt as if time was slowing down as Sam’s phone kept vibrating, everyone’s eyes trained on him awaiting to hear who was on the other line. Zemo had sat back down beside you and you leaned into him to keep up your act, and as you glanced at his profile, you saw that he was deep in thought, probably running the scenario through his head.
“Answer it. On speaker.” Selby ordered as she had stood up, staring at Sam in the eye while she pointed at him. She was really starting to get on your nerves now and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there.
You locked eyes with Sam as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and answered it. “Hello?”
“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” You heard Sarah’s voice on the other line.
Shit. You were fucked.
Licking your lips, you used your telepathic abilities to tap into Zemo and Bucky’s brain, your eyes following Selby as she started to stroll around the room.
You watched how Zemo and Bucky’s eyes shifted to you when hearing your voice, only to see you looking to the floor without ever opening your mouth.
“Relax, it’s me. Don’t look at me and act like nothing is happening.” You gave them a cautionary look. “I’m sorry to have to get into your heads, but we are in deep shit and this isn’t going to end well. Just think about what you want to say and we can communicate from there.”
“You’re....you’re in our heads?” You heard Zemo’s thoughts.
“Yes, I already said that.”
“So.....how are we supposed to get out of this one?” Bucky asked.
“Well at this rate, There is no other way than to fight our way out. We’re about to have a large bounty on our heads.”
“Y/n is right.” Zemo added. “We must be prepared.”
“You got any plans Zemo?” You asked him.
“Just make it out alive.”
You nodded your head slightly, signaling that you were prepared for what was about to happen next. Selby had crossed behind the sofa you and Zemo sat on, dragging her fingers through the top of the back part of the sofa. You could’ve sworn you felt her wretched fingers graze over your bare shoulder and through your hair as she passed by, making you straighten up in repulsion and clutch the seat of the couch with balled fists, accidentally brushing the side of your exposed thigh against Zemo’s in the process. Zemo side glanced at you after feeling your thigh brush against his, seeing you shift in your seat with an uncomfortable look hidden on your face. And from the way Selby had now crossed over to his side of the Sofa, he knew what had happened to upset you. Sam and Bucky saw the whole thing, the way she laid her fingers on you made their skin crawl, they clenched their fists as they were more than ready to get you out of this hellhole and to a safer place.
“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam cleared his throat as he planned out what to say while trying to stay in character.
“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” You could hear the irritation in Sarah’s voice as you studied the faces of everyone around you, honing in on their vital signs to where you could almost see their heart beat, blood flow, and rise in body temperature. Their bodies released an odor that you were all too familiar with, that near acidic smell, adrenaline. You saw it pump through their veins as the guards hovered their fingers over the triggers of their guns. They were already starting to have doubts about the four of you.
“What situation, Sarah? Say it.”
“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.”
“The bank.” Sam scoffed before chuckling lightly. “Yeah. Laundered so much. Yeah, they’ll come around.”
“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”
As every exchange between Sam and Sarah went by, the more your hands itched to grab your dagger as you waited for the precise moment to strike. You could practically hear your heartbeat and the clock on the wall drowning out the sound of everything else in the room, the clicking of the hand second by second, as if taunting you about the little amount of time you had left.
“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.” Sam stared straight ahead. You could already tell from his face that he was not at all confident about how this was going to go down.
“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.”
“Sam?” Selby looked at the four of you. “Who’s Sam? Kill them!”
Bang! There was the sound of a gunshot and shattered glass, and the next thing you knew, Selby was shot in front of you, her coat now spreading with blood from the wound in her chest as she fell to the floor dead, right when you were about to run your dagger through her yourself. You couldn’t find sight of who the shooter was as one of the security sent a dead center shot towards Zemo’s head. You widened your eyes and shot your arm out in front of Zemo’s face, the bullet bouncing off your metal cuff with a sizzling sound and falling to the floor in a crumbled ball. Thank the gods for Olympian steel. Zemo and the security guard gave you a surprised look from how you just deflected the shot, giving you the chance to slip up the slit of your dress to grab your dagger. You threw your dagger at the guard, watching it fly through the air before hitting him straight in the chest, making him fall over.
You and Zemo jumped up from the couch as two more guards shot at you in the process, more bullets falling to the floor as you deflected them all. Zemo grabbed the gun of one of them before hitting him in the head with it, knocking him out cold. You charged at the other one, pulling your sword out from your back before raising it above you and bringing it down in a diagonal motion, slicing the guard across the chest. You winced as some of the blood had splattered on your face, causing you to wipe it off with the back of your hand. Bucky and Sam had taken care of the other two before going off to the other side of the room. You shoved your sword down on the floor so that it stood upright before kneeling over to take your heels off. Sam, Bucky, and Zemo stared at you in shock from what you did as you headed over to them barefoot with your sword in one hand, stopping to stoop over one of the dead guards to pull your dagger out of his chest before giving it a flick to get rid of the blood.
“What the hell was that? You had a sword with you this whole time?” Sam hissed.
“Never mind that. We have bigger problems. They’re going to pin this on us.” You breathed out as you slipped your sword back on your back and your dagger back on the strap on your thigh.
“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo sighed before heading out as you followed him.
You heard the sound of everyone’s phone notification going off, telling them of Shelby’s death and the bounty on your heads.
“This is not good.” Zemo mentioned as he glanced at everyone, some who now had their eyes following you.
Bullets went flying over your head as people approached you with their guns out, shooting at you.
“Shit!” Sam shouted as he and the others ducked.
“More guns?” You rolled your eyes. Using your powers, your eyes returned to their natural Olympian color before glowing a bright violet as you created a shield in front of you to protect you and the three, the bullets disintegrating when coming into contact with your shield. Your eyes widened as you looked down at your hands in horror and saw how they were starting to change to an unnatural death like color, slowly starting to spread up your arms in a vein like manner while your hands had become almost claw like with sharp pointed nails. Oh no. This was not good, you didn’t need the others seeing this. Cursing under your breath with a flick of your wrist, you used your powers to throw the attackers into a nearby wall before letting your shield disappear. You glanced down at your hands with a bit of relief as you saw them return to their natural skin tone. This was definitely not good and you needed to get it sorted out before they found out.
“Let’s go!” You told them as you started to run, down the crime ridden street, not even caring that you weren’t wearing any shoes but cursing under your breath for your choice of not wearing a bra because of the damned dress, making you press your arm over them to hold them in place.
“I can’t run in these heels!” You heard Sam say as he struggled to keep up.
Your heart was pounding as you ran from the people after your heads, the sound of gunshots echoing in the streets. Making sure to stay in front of Bucky, Sam, and Zemo, you used a combination of defense and offense, lighting up the streets in flashes of violet as you blocked off the bullets and threw bolts of energy through your attackers. All the while being cautious of maintaining your appearance. As you came to a small clearing, you found yourself surrounded before more gunshots were heard, but this time they were directed at your attackers, the bullets coming from one of the windows of the buildings.
“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo spoke up as he looked around with a gun in his hand after shooting one of the attackers himself.
“Well, this is too perfect.” You heard a woman approach with a gun pointed at Zemo, using one of her hands to drop her hood. “Drop it, Zemo.”
“Sharon?” You caught your breath as you furrowed your brows at her, surprised to see her. You never had the chance to meet her but you were wondering what she was doing here.
“You cost me everything.” Sharon spoke as she stopped with her gun still pointed at Zemo.
“Sharon, wait.” Sam stepped in front to try to explain everything. “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.”
“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.”
“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked her.
“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save his ass from his ass.” You watched from the side with a raised brow as Sharon pointed at all three of them. “I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”
“Don’t blow smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam tried to reason.
“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.” Sharon remarked before looking over at you, squinting her eyes as she tried to figure out where she saw you. “Sorry, you’re y/n right? You worked with Thor? What do you have to do with all this?”
“Sam needed my help, Sharon.” You explained. “We could use yours, it would mean a lot.”
Sharon thought it over, looking between you and the others.
“Please.” Bucky added.
“This isn’t over.” Sharon let out a sigh. “I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.”
“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam noted as he took in the interior of the building once you all stepped in after the car ride there.
Your gut was telling you there was something fishy about Sharon that you just couldn’t pinpoint just yet, but you wanted to trust her. You raised a brow at the artwork that was displayed. So Sharon was selling stolen artwork now? You didn’t pay much mind to the details of the area as you followed Sharon through. You were much too focused on washing the blood and makeup off your face as well as changing into something more comfortable. But the one thing you couldn’t get your mind off of was what happened earlier when you were using your powers. It was definitely not a good sign and you were scared of the answers you would get once you searched deeper into it.
“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” Sharon mentioned as she turned to Sam.
“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.”
“No. She means real.” Zemo affirmed after he had taken a look around. “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.”
“It’s true.” Bucky added to Zemo’s comment. “You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.”
“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” Sam was on his phone, obviously trying to search up to confirm what they said was true.
“Yeah. What’s Google say?”
“You guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon suggested once you had entered her living area.
“Hey Sharon.” You faced her. “Where’s your bathroom?”
“Down the hall on the left.”
“Thanks.” You gave her a kind smile before heading to it and locking the door behind you. The men’s eyes followed you as you went into the bathroom, they had noticed how quiet you were on the ride here and how you seemed to be deep in thought, and they were wondering what had happened to have you upset like this. Was it the whole situation with Selby? Were you enraged at them for putting you into this mess?
You had turned on the faucet in the bathroom, letting the water run for a bit as you stared down at your hands once more, as if you were afraid they’d return to that same appearance of death, resembling hands that might have belonged to a demon or an animal. You cursed under your breath as you washed the blood off your face, chest, and arms. As if you didn’t have enough to stress over already. Reaching your hand into your dress pocket, you pulled out your bag that you had shrunk to make it easier to bring along, returning it to it’s normal size so you could pull out a fresh pair of clothes. You changed into your Smashing Pumpkins shirt, a pair of jeans and your docs, throwing on a black leather jacket on top before putting your old attire and sword away. You decided to keep your dagger on you, strapping it to the back of your waist through the slot you had on your belt to help conceal it. As you rummaged through your bag, you grabbed your bracers and strapped them on your arms, concealing them underneath your jacket. At this point you needed to be prepared. Once you were done you returned your bag to a miniature size with a spell, slipping it in your jacket pocket before walking out of the bathroom. You had put on your brave face so questions wouldn’t arise about your behavior as you went to return to where the others were gathered.
“What’d I miss?” You asked as you approached them, politely declining the glass of liquor Sharon offered you.
“Nothing important.” Bucky answered your question. “You didn’t miss much.”
“Yeah?” You raised a brow amusingly as you crossed your arms. “Sounded like bickering to me. You three always have a bone to pick with each other. I could hear you from inside the bathroom..........I’m kidding, relax. Just trying to lighten up the mood.”
“Sharon might be able to find out how to locate our lead.” Zemo caught you up with everything that happened while you were cleaning up in the bathroom.
“Well,” Sharon noted as she got up from the sofa. “I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.”
“Trouble.” Zemo added with a smirk.
“Thank Sharon.” You smiled at her, silently dreading having to go to yet another party. It wasn’t that you didn’t like parties, you weren’t a fan of crowds. And if you were being honest, you wanted nothing more than to eat an entire cheese pizza all by yourself and crash out on the floor at this point. You were exhausted to say the least, and starving. Using your powers had strangely drained some energy out of you and you didn’t know what the cause could be. This had never happened to you before.
Loud bass music filled your ears, making the ground beneath you vibrate with each beat as you arrived at the party downstairs with the others, the dim lights flashing against your face as you followed behind Sam towards the bar. You asked the bartender for a glass of cold water and sat on the barstool, watching people dance in close proximities of each other, your mind still fantasizing about the cheesiest pizza you could be having right now, causing your stomach to grumble.
“I can see you two aren’t a fan of parties.” Sam smirked as he looked at the bored expressions on you and Bucky’s faces. “Mr. I-Only-Listen-To-40s-Music and Ms. I-Only-Listen-To-Beethoven.”
“Beethoven was a genius.” You remarked. “Also, classical music is not the only thing I listen to. I listen to other stuff as well.”
“Yeah, like rock. And about that. I can’t believe you did acid.” Sam quipped as Zemo and Bucky’s eyes were on you now, curious to hear your response.
“Oh for fucks sake Sam. This was back in the 60s. Give me a break. Shit didn’t work anyways.”
“Wait. How the hell, do you take acid and it has no effect on you?”
“Well it’s the same thing as not being able to get drunk Sam. Now stop interrogating me.” You explained before setting your glass of water down on the counter. “Give me a minute guys. I gotta make a phone call.”
You pulled your phone out of your pocket, trying to head outside to where it was much quieter as you searched for the nearest pizza place. Your head was starting to throb from the lack of nutrition and the loud music and bright lights definitely wasn’t helping. You were going to have a damn cheese pizza and no one was going to stop you. Before you could even reach the entrance you felt a pair of strong arms grab your jacket, pulling you into the empty hallway nearby. You dropped your phone out of panic, your self defense mode kicking in as you grabbed the bulky arm of your unknown attacker and twisted it behind his back before shoving him against the wall of the hallway, creating a crack from the impact. The large man grunted from the force you exerted as you pulled out your dagger, setting the sharp blade against his throat, his face hidden from your view due the shadow cast over him.
“You better start talking asshole. You have picked the wrong time to fuck with me.” You growled between gritted teeth, shoving him against the wall again to get him to talk. “Answer me you shit!”
“Easy kid.” The man spoke with a gruff voice, grunting from your tight hold on him. “Is this how you treat an old friend?”
The grip you had on the man loosened, your hand that held your dagger to his throat dropping down to your side as you stared at the back of the man’s head like a deer in headlights. You recognized that voice.
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Helmut Zemo - Masterlist
Everything You Stand For
Helmut Zemo comes to you with an offer. Your revenge and his.
Warnings: Smut, Implied Violence, Implied Violence Against Women (Past), Implied Abuse (Past), Some Angst
When The Stars Went Out
You know Helmut Zemo will find you in this and every life, so why pull the red thread any sooner?
Warnings: Contains smut, some dubcon/noncon elements, references to being choked, aggressive abuse of astronomical terms and flowery language.
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