#baron zemo x reader insert

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Two: The Deal and A Meal

Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

The Missing Title

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Summary: After rounding up the entourage and getting debriefed on the mission, Madripoor and a woman named Selby await. Despite not knowing much about the place, it seems someone has a plan and it’s made clear what part you’ll have to play.

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: Insecurity, Sexism, Dubcon, Threats, Violence, Cursing, Illegal Activities, Guns, Attempted Assassinations

A/N: I intended to originally go through all of the second episode within this chapter, but it turned out to be way too long, so I had to cut it short and split it up into two (possibly three knowing what I plan for the next chapter) parts. It'll be fun though, I know it! (aka the 'meal' part of the title might have been previously in reference to a certain someone.) and thank you again to @imamotherfuckingstar-lord for essentially beta’ing for me ❤️

After a stale biscuit offered by the elderly gentleman you've come to learn is named Oeznick, and a glass of water, you'd fallen asleep. The flight passed fairly quickly, and it wasn't until you were an hour outside the drop-off point that a warm and sturdy hand placed itself upon your shoulder. "wecken," an accented voice meets your ears as you stir from your peaceful nap.

"Rise an' shine," Sam's voice calls from off in the distance. Eyes blinking open you follow the calloused fingers up to its owner, surprised to find that it's the Baron who's woken you.

"When you're ready to change, I've placed your outfit in the lavatory," Zemo explains, hand lifting from your shoulder to gesture where the aircraft's restrooms are. Upon righting yourself, you find Sam running his hands down the lapels of his suit. With your half-awake state you're unable to bite back the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Hey, I didn't pick this, okay? If you wanna thank anyone, thank the maniac over here- better yet, thank Buck since he's the one who got us into this mess in the first place." Sam turns his argument on his counterpart, the mischievously playful twinkle in his eyes landing on the man still sitting in his seat from earlier. Leg crossed over the other, small notebook open in his lap, Bucky raises his gaze to your friend.

"Yeah, like you wouldn't be doing something just as-- if not even more--dangerous if it weren't for my idea," the soldier retorts.

"So I'm hearing that this maniac is actually perhaps saving you some grace?" Zemo chips in, a smug look upon his face.

"Ha, you wish," Sam's voice bites back as you shake your head in amusement, exiting the cabin.

The lavatory is far more immaculate than you'd anticipated, the sleek shedua door leading into a room bordered with, and a sink cabinet made from the same polished material. There are rolls of towels sitting on a shelf beside the sink. Eyes taking in your groggy features reflected in the back-lit mirror, you don't spot the outfit until your eyes see a pop of color. Dangling from a hanger placed on the hooks at the back of the door is a satin cherry red dress.

With gentle fingers, you run them along the soft fabric. It happens to be one of your favorites, even if you're sure many people enjoy the smooth touch of it. Though you may consider whether your undergarments will work with this outfit--let alone if it'll even fit you--there's no better answer than seeing for yourself. After all, Zemo had said that this was for you. There's no other wardrobe in here, so it's not like you can pretend otherwise. It only takes a second to double-check and make sure you'd locked the doors and there are no cameras or an unfortunate happenstance of a double-sided mirror. With everything in the clear, you quickly undress, partially excited by the thought of trying on such a sexy and luxurious dress.

As you tug it up in place, shoulders supporting the straps, you're careful with it, not wanting to mar or maim it in any way. After all, it's not every day you're handling such expensive things. Initially, you'd been concerned about your undergarments, and while your bra straps are showing, it seems that simply tucking them beneath the draped fabric lining your chest doesn't leave behind a visible trace of the economic brand you own. The only issue is what follows next. Upon zipping up the back as high as you can, you find that the dress is snug against your curves. While that's not a style you usually go for and leaves you feeling somewhat exposed, you don't mind the way it looks on you.

Vision set on the mirror again, you find yourself running your hands down your sides as you take it in. The red material definitely contrasts against your skin, making your features pop in a different way than the more plain clothes you'd previously been adorning. Doing a slow spin, you take it all in; that's when you notice the issue... your panty-line is visible. Not to mention, the dress has a pretty high slit that ends just below the middle of one thigh. This realization causes the faint smile that'd appeared on your lips to turn downward.

Nevertheless, you continue. After all, that's only one hangup; there's plenty more to be done. Luckily, you'd brought some makeup with you. At the time you hadn't been sure why, but now the last-minute item you'd thrown in your duffle has clearly come to use. Though there could be debate on what sort of makeup style would look best in not only your picked outfit, but for whatever part you're playing. Escort? Lover? Arm Candy? Prostitute? You decide for yourself. Going for a classic smokey eye, eyeliner, and red lipstick, you make sure you look every point the part you're to play.

It's then that the final pieces come into play. There'd been a black cardboard box lying on the counter. Inside, you'd found a pair of black high stiletto heels which had a diamond encrusted floral-looking pattern attached to the back. Lips parting in a silent "wow," you can't help but enjoy them. The shoes fit perfectly, to your surprise, and while everything is in place, you decide that you're finally ready to return to the men.

"Holy...." Sam draws out the syllables as his mouth hangs open. Bucky's eyebrows raise as his blue gaze rakes over your body, taking in all the details.

"du siehst-" Zemo shakes his head, "wunderschön aus," he comments. Gloved hands tugging on the lapels of his coat, he clears his throat before turning his gaze back upon the men. "Hopefully everything is to your liking." While he doesn't look at you, the comment was in your direction, that much you know. Bucky nods in agreement.

"Never seen you so dressed up before," Sam teases, a playful smile arcing across his lips.

Eyebrows raising in surprise and amusement, you lift a finger to beckon him over. Sam obeys. "Firstly, you've seen me at the annual galas many times- and-" you clear your throat and quietly lean toward him, clearly going to whisper something. Sam recognizes this and lets you have access to his ear. "There might be a slight problem." The hint of concern in your tone is what makes him lean back far enough to gauge your reaction.

"Oh no- what is it?" He asks, not bothering to lower his voice. This comment garners the attention of everyone in the cabin, all the men turning their gaze on you. With a swallow of the anxiety rising to your throat, you try not to crumble under their gaze. Bucky senses your nerves and looks back out the window. Zemo turns his gaze away just enough to let you two remain in his peripheral vision, but make you think otherwise.

A hand gently gripping the bicep of Sam's suit, you lean in again. "You..." you sigh, turning your face away for a moment to gather yourself, "can see my panties. Clearly. I-"

"Okay-" Sam interrupts, instantly retreating from your touch as he puts his hands up. "I don't really need to hear about that, but I'm sure it's fine! It's fine- no one will notice." With a speedy glance toward the problem, his lips purse into a line. The reaction is what causes the men to return their gazes upon you, clearly left out of the loop.

"I don't- I don't know what to do about it," you whisper-yell in Sam's direction. With another look away from the men, your hair concealing the embarrassed look on your face, you gather yourself again. A sigh escapes your lips. "I don't know if I should-"

"What's the issue?" Zemo asks, clearly piqued in interest. While his hands clasp together, you can't be sure if you've offended him by the slight raise of his brow, or if he's simply determined to resolve whatever it is that's bothering you. Lips parting once more, your eyes turn back toward Sam.

"Don't look at me," he reasserts, hands raising in a childish manner. It's as if he's pawning you off to some strange man. You suppose he is, though you know how close he and Bucky are. Is Bucky a better judge though? A better critic of this? "I... think you actually oughta ask Zemo. He'd probably know better- no offense," he turns the latter half on Bucky. Almost as if he'd been on the same trail of thought as you.

"How can I help?" Zemo questions again, taking a step toward you. He tilts his head slightly, clearly trying to deduce the problem as he gives you a once-over. Nose wrinkling up in embarrassment, you let another sigh escape you before letting your head fall for a moment. Clearly, you have to do this. It's fine, though... or at least that's what you keep reminding yourself over and over again in your mind. With a raise of your hand, you summon him over. He obliges, leaving a little space between you as your relationship isn't as close as yours and Sam's. Albeit you'd have thought the man who's more like a brother would be more willing to help and hear out an embarrassing problem than a stranger. Obviously not, it seems.

With a mindless quick lick of your lips, you step closer to the Baron. Closing the space, you place your hand on the bicep of his coat as you lean in to whisper. "I... might have an obvious panty line problem. I don't know if I should take them off, or... I don't know, I mean- there's the slit, and, what if I-"

The touch of his leather-gloved hand resting on your bare arm makes your words come to a stall. "You don't need to worry, Liebling. If you want to dance or are afraid of exposing yourself, you can have my coat. I would, however, suggest taking them off for the mission, at least. Unfortunately, it would raise questions and look out of place for..."

"For...?" You pressure, wanting to have asked him earlier what part it is, exactly, that you'll be playing.

"For a high-end escort," he answers. "If this makes you uncomfortable, you may see if James and Sam are willing to let you await us at the meeting spot." Removing his hand, he remains in the closeness you'd created, wanting to be available for further conversation. However, you're all well aware of the approaching landing.

A shake of your head reveals your answer. "No, I'll do it. I just wasn't sure if that was the best option, or..." your words trail off and you give him a shrug of your shoulders. He nods in understanding.

"Problem solved?" Sam asks from the seat he'd retreated to during your exchange with Zemo. While his eyes (and Bucky's) never left you two, he had no doubts that you'd be able to come to some sort of compromise. A huff of annoyance leaves your lips at Sam's attitude. You roll your eyes in his direction before turning on your heels and heading back to the lavatory.

The last thing you hear before getting out of earshot is Zemo questioning Sam on why he couldn't have an adult conversation with a woman he's so close to.

________

It looks as if it's just rained, and while it smells somewhat revolting there's nothing you can do besides follow the men. Lagging a few steps behind (considering your heels) you can't take your eyes off the magnificent lights. The architecture something to be admired along with the mountains in the distance surrounding the city. Boats sit anchored all along the bay, and you wonder if they're night-fishing, or perhaps partying since the boys had claimed Madripoor was something of a party city when you'd been briefed earlier this afternoon.

"We have to do something about this, I'm the only one who looks like a pimp," Sam complains. "At least you look, fashionable," he gauges your expression, rolling his eyes upon noticing your amusement.

"It's not that bad," you offer, hoping to make him feel better considering he needs the confidence for this plan to work.

"Only an American would think a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing," Zemo states. Your lips part in shock and awe. He's not wrong, however considering who he's responding to, his comment might be a little out of pocket. The generalization of Americans is something you try not to take personally.

Before you can comment on who truly looks like a pimp amongst your group, Zemo continues. "The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger." Tearing your gaze from the water once more, you find that Zemo not only has a phone but is handing it over to Sam.

"He even has a bad nickname," Your friend complains. Tilting the phone so you can see the image, a laugh bursts from your lips. "Hell, he does look like me, though."

"Can't deny that," you add on. If anyone's getting credit, it once again is Zemo. While Sam had criticized Bucky aggressively, you're starting to see why perhaps the Soldier went through with his plan. Continuing down the pavement, heels clacking against the hard material as your eyes roam the expanse of the bridge and city before you, the accompaniment of boots wetly stomping against the ground gives some sort of comfort. You're on your way, this will all be over before you know it.

"You smell this?" Zemo breaks the silence.

"Yeah, what is that? Acid?" Sam questions, indulging the conversation.

"Madripoor," Zemo answers. As a vehicle approaches, the ride Zemo had ordered not long before, he speaks again. "No matter what happens we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error."

If you weren't nervous before, you were now. Although your intrigue about he smells and Zemo's nonanswer have left your mind, you know that anxiety won't help anything. No matter what happens, you have to act believable. Do whatever it takes. There's a reason you joined this mission, and there's a reason Joaquin asked you to help out. The car pulls a U-Turn and stops just a few feet away.

"High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit," Zemo says, "but Low Town's the other way."

Anger once again infiltrates your system. Not only is Zemo giving out nonanswers and advice, you've walked over halfway down the bridge to High Town for what? Only to go back the way you'd come? As your mind starts to run over the possible reasons, you've been left no time to think as Bucky opens the door to the back of the car.

"And let me guess, we don't have any friends in High Town," Sam states. From your peripheral you see Zemo shake his head. He, of course, takes the passenger's seat. Most important people up front, you assume. While Bucky waits for you to get in, you slide into the middle and buckle up. Once he's in next to you and shuts the door, you're half-minded to thank him, but remember your rules: stay in character. If you were really the Baron's plaything you'd know that the Winter Soldier was nothing but something akin to more of... a doll, of sorts.

As thunder rumbles in the sky, you're glad that you guys had gotten in the car long before it started raining again. After all, your hair and makeup need to be presentable for this to work. The mindless soothing gesture of running your hands along the soft satin material of the red dress the Baron had picked out grounds you. As the ride passes you're simply happy to take in all the new scenery around you, admiring the nice vehicle's interior along with the way your acquaintances are dressed.

You hear the sound of motors before you're able to see them. While you can't exactly see the side mirrors of the car, you know there's more than just one on each side. As Sam looks around, so do you. Something sinks in your chest; whether it's fear or dread, you can't tell, but considering you're unsure who's manning the motorcycles now surrounding your car, it seems warranted.

Perception is a funny thing; everyone has their own, yet they're all vastly different. Self-aware people are hard to come by. In fact, you'd seen reports that only twenty percent of people are self-aware, while the outlying eighty percent goes through life blind. At least, that's how you'd surmise the data. Why is it funny? Well, it's simple. Everyone takes in certain things, and while you've always been once to take in all the fine details, there's another phenomena that sometimes follows secondary. Dissociation.

While the process is usually brought up as a form of coping with trauma, it never truly goes away once it comes up. Coupled with anxiety, time seems to be slipping away like a blur. Soon enough you're following Zemo down a walkway, focused solely on staying close. Upon approaching a series of stairs, you're standing over an enclave of Low Town. The lights, stalls, vendors, people, and activities all at a good viewing point from here.

Unaware of the fact that you'd stopped until Smiling Tiger bumps into your shoulder, you're shaken out of your stupor. He wasn't the only one to notice, however, as the next thing you know Zemo's taken ahold of your hand and is escorting you down the steps.

"Stay with me," he instructs, determined dark eyes searching your face. At the bottom of the stairs he tugs you by your hand in the direction you suppose the location.

He doesn't seem unfazed, yet the task of mentally processing your surroundings and staying in character almost feels like too much. Maybe this is why you were better off behind the scenes on most projects. It's the sight of guns, within view, at access, in foreign and unfamiliar territory that's doing this, you're sure. Though the thought that Bucky and Sam are there is somewhat comforting.

Following Zemo under a blue and purple neon sign in the shape of a screaming monkey, you can't help but smile. It's uncalled for, surely, but with all the conflicting emotions going on within your gut, you aren't too focused on your reactions.

Zemo says something, and you're sure it's Russian, however it's only the last word you can makeout as something that sounds like "Soldier" that lets you know he isn't talking to you. Walking through the crowded bar, Zemo releases your hand, only to wrap his plush-coated arm around you, keeping you close.

Though you're aware of the eyes falling upon your group, you don't entertain them, nor the whispers you start to hear filter up into a murmuring. It seems as though Zemo has a plan as he marches right up to the bar with you.

"Hello, gentlemen, and lady. Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger." The Bartender greets, putting down the glass he was cleaning.

"His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby," Zemo states. Eyes drifting up to his face, you offer him a coquette smile before turning it onto the Bartender in hopes of enticing him just slightly. After all, your mother always said that honey works better at trapping flies than vinegar.

"The usual?" The Bartender asks, suspicious eyes turning on Sam. Luckily, the man instantly plays along and nods. Taking in the blue lights that shine down from the truss they hang upon, your eyes scan the walls which you now only realize are made from something other than simply art. With inspection, you come to see they're the skulls of what you can only guess are monkeys. Which makes sense, considering the sign you'd seen outside. Zemo orders you both a round of shots, clearly focused on business.

Hand finding the Baron's gloved hand which still lies on your waist, you unravel yourself from his hold as you turn in his grip to lean against the bar to face him, hand still attached to his. With a moment to breathe, you join his hand with your other, both hands playing with the glove, one hand's fingers running along the length of his arm.

As Zemo turns back to look at you, he's distracted by the sight of what the Bartender is making. A split-second look of stun turns into a smirk as the man releases an amused "Ah." With curiosity, you'd followed the Baron's gaze, only to be equally, if not more stunned. "Smiling Tiger, your favorite." Noticing you, Zemo can't help but let out a laugh.

Met with a gutted snake, you can't help as your eyes widen and lips part. It only takes a second to follow suit as you turn to Smiling Tiger and offer a slightly amused and tight-lipped smile. "I just never get used to it," you comment, playing along.

As the Bartender slides over the shots Zemo had requested, the Baron picks them up, offering one to you. Faces turning to Sam, you both take stock of his reaction. One of you is seemingly challenging him, while the other is offering as much support as they can through their guise.

"I love these," Smiling Tiger states with confidence. Zemo raises his shot to your friend, you following suit before clinking glasses with your fake lover.

"Cheers, Conrad," Zemo announces. Downing the shots, you both return your gaze to him.

"Mmm," Smiling Tiger hums in anticipation, lifting the shot for a moment before he grimaces and hesitates. Just when you're about to encourage him, the man downs it in one go and doesn't make a face. Another faint hum of what you assume is truly disgust, but comes across as an unsettled stomach or perhaps going down the wrong way emanates from the man. With a thumbs up toward the Bartender, the man looks skeptical for a moment before turning and helping another customer.

Eyes still on Sam, it isn't until someone approaches your left, practically invading your personal space that you right yourself. Zemo's hand shoots past you to push you behind him as he squares off against the man. "I got word from on High. You ain't welcome here," the man states.

The Baron makes a noise of intrigue and thought before clicking his tongue against his teeth. "I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me..." a slap of his gloved hand against the bar brings everyone's attention to his gesture toward the Winter Soldier.

"New haircut?" The man asks, turning his attention on the Winter Soldier, who stares him dead in the eye, unflinching.

"Or bring Selby for a chat," Zemo threatens the man. Hands moving to rest on Zemo's back, you pretend to comfort him, offering your physical touch as some sort of grounding, or at least a reminder that you're there. He looks between the Winter Soldier and the Baron for a moment before leaving. Zemo shakes his head, to which you retract your hands, unsure if he's bothered, annoyed, or something else entirely.

"A power broker. Really?" Bucky asks, annoyance obvious in his voice.

"Every kingdom needs its king," Zemo explains, resting against the bar, himself, "Let's just pray we stay under his radar."

"Or hers," you challenge, joining him in leaning against the bar, even if you're really gauging the other side of the room and its crowd.

"Do you know him?" Smiling Tiger asks as he turns to be the lookout this time. "Or her?" He adds for your benefit, as you share a knowing look.

"Only by reputation," Zemo answers, turning to look at Smiling Tiger. "In Madripoor, he is judge, jury, and executioner." Clearly, the Baron seems to disagree with your theory. In earnest, it really is only a theory. People often underestimate others, and while there's a good chance only a man could survive the streets and business from what you've seen of Madripoor so far, you never know.

As you join suit and turn to look at your friend, it's only after Zemo calls for the Winter Soldier that you notice the person approaching from your left. As the Baron engages with Bucky, commanding him in Russian, you watch the man continue toward the former and extend a hand. Grimacing, you shake your head in a tacit form of advice. Of course, he didn't listen.

As soon as the man lands his hand on Zemo the Winter Soldier grabs it and backs him up a few feet. Eyes glued to the scene, you watch as Bucky easily throws the man to the ground and breaks his arm. People begin raising their phones to record the event as the man groans in pain on the floor. Another man runs at the Soldier to come to the groaning man's defense before throwing a punch. With a quick one-two combo, Bucky kicks him into another man who'd been coming to help.

It's somewhat shocking, watching the Winter Soldier throw someone onto a table. The table collapses and yet that's not where it's going to end, you can tell by the way Bucky continues stalking toward him. With a quick shift up to meet Zemo's face you're appalled to find him smiling. "You're not going to stop this?" You ask, momentarily forgetting your role. A doll of the Baron's would know what to expect... wouldn't they? Yet the thought hadn't crossed your mind. Hands reaching out toward the Baron's sleeve, there's a quick movement over Zemo's shoulder. Someone attempts to hit him, yet Zemo catches their arm and uses their momentum to push them toward the Winter Soldier.

Making quick work of the attacker, his body goes flying into a criss-cross metal beam before slumping onto the floor.

"Didn't take much for him to fall back into form," Zemo comments toward Smiling Tiger. His tone is almost amused, as if the thought was meant to provoke something from Sam. Taken aback by the quick spiraling of events, you jump as the Winter Soldier slams a man onto the bar and Zemo's hands simultaneously wrap around your waist. "Would you rather get what we came for, or be injured, even dead?" He whispers in your ear, nose nuzzling into your neck for a moment before he releases you, still keeping one hand on your waist.

The sound of guns cocking all around you makes your heart start racing as you force yourself to continue playing the part. Staring at Bucky's metal arm choking this man atop the bar, his hands attempt to scratch and claw for freedom to no use. You wouldn't be afraid of the danger, not if you were his lover. You'd probably get off on it, probably be used to it... something that to your character is entirely false. Stomach beginning to feel as though it's knotting up, you watch as Sam breaks character, hand shooting out to rest on Bucky's shoulder.

"Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us," Zemo murmurs through gritted teeth to Sam before commanding Bucky again in Russian. You think he's congratulating him, commanding the man's release? You aren't sure.

"Selby will see you now," The Bartender announces, eyes set upon your group as the man below Bucky's hand starts wheezing.

"Thank you," Zemo replies, nodding in the Bartender's direction.

In a matter of minutes, you've been led down corridor after corridor of sketchy, colorful doors and graffitied walls. With Zemo by your side, he keeps his hand snug on your hip as his arm snakes around your waist, keeping you close. Now that you're being led behind the scenes of the public fronts, you're able to see that things are much more dangerous than you'd been led to believe. Cages line the walls of one room, different pricey items inhabiting their safe spots. On tables there are guns, drugs, and more money than you've ever seen in one place at one time. Cameras line a row of desks, the security clearly high, and well needed if your parts are the type of crowd they normally get.

"You should know, Baron, people don't just come into my bar and make demands," a white-haired woman speaks from across the room. As the guard with some type of rifle stands aside, it's clear you've come to your stop.

"Not a demand, an offer," Zemo clarifies. As he sits across from her in an armchair, he drags you with him, placing you on his knee. This time you know the part you're playing, and with the physical closeness, you figure it doesn't quite look right. Backing yourself up onto his lap, you turn your upper body toward him, slinging an arm around his neck and bringing your head to rest against it so you can pretend to admire him.

"A lot has changed since you were here last. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?" Selby, the only person you can assume is her, based on how she holds herself, asks. She's testing him, you know that.

From her question, you know now is the time you can play. "We don't talk about that," you bite. Eyeing the velvet, patterned suit she wears, you take in her leopard-print tie and snakeskin couch. In your opinion, it's all so tacky. A two-thousands sort of 'elitism' look. Outdated certainly.

Zemo's gloved hand pats your hip a few times, his brown eyes turning to you, brows furrowing just for a moment. "It's fine, Meine Süße," he responds, voice much quieter and gentler, "I have not seen Selby in a long time! The question is only reasonable," he announces, turning his attention back on her. With a shrug, he answers. "People like us always find a way, don't we? I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."

"Now, who's this?" A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips before she points at Sam, not taking her eyes off you as she gives you a once-over. "You're taller than I'd heard, Smiling Tiger." With a playful motion of cat claws, Selby purrs in his direction before finally turning her attention back on the both of you. "What's the offer?"

"She's none of your concern. Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum," Zemo lifts you onto the arm of the chair before standing and rounding the chair to pat the Winter Soldier's arms. "And I give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course." Running his gloved hands down Bucky's chin before jiggling it, you're stunned that the man hasn't broken once. "He will do anything you want," Zemo offers.

Selby begins to smile, and you think he's got her. "Now that's the Zemo I remember," she bemuses, to which, he grunts in acknowledgment, "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately-" she pauses, "-Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right."

The Baron listens, his face stoic as he walks your way. Plopping back into his seat, you let your hand snake its way up his shoulder and onto his collar as you play with the fluffy speckled fur.

"Now, you know I hate to ask things twice, but how do I know your little tramp won't go running around spreading things on the street?" Selby threatens. Eyes darting from Zemo to her, you can't help the way your eyebrows furrow and anger begins to simmer in your gut.

"Because she's not a tramp." Venom seeps from his voice. In an instant he's dragging you onto his lap again, gloved hand gripping your chin and turning your face to meet his. Without a moment to think he's pressing his lips to yours with a fervor you were entirely unexpecting. Gasping, you retract for a moment, eyes searching his for only a moment before you reconnect your lips. This is your part, this is what you have to do. You should've expected it, but here you are.

With the understanding that this is life or death, you know you have to make this convincing. As soon as he returns the kiss again, you revel in the way his plump and plush lips dance with your own. His hands slide from your waist downward, dangerously low, yet not quite touching your butt. You let yourself moan against his lips. While your dress is long, you're able to move enough to straddle him, even if it's tight. Noses brushing against one another as you both deepen the kiss, it's only once your lips part slightly, each of your breath fanning across the other's cheek in rapid pants that you find yourself grinding against him.

Upon realization you must've stopped, because it seems as though Zemo recognized your hesitation. Parting from the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours for a moment before lifting you again to rearrange you to sit across his lap this time. "I don't need to explain my relations to you, Selby, but I'll say this: if she's going anywhere, it's not without me." There's once again a determination in his eyes that you find yourself unable to tear away from. While you stare at the Baron, taking in every fine detail of his face, he doesn't meet your eye. Instead, his darkened eyes remain set on Selby.

"The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Doctor Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank-" Selby concedes, the mentioned named garnering your attention. "Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you're on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but...things didn't go as planned."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?" Zemo asks.

"Oh. the breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron," Selby taunts. Standing, she starts to cross over to the two of you, "And before you get all cute on me, don't think you can find him without me."

Suddenly there's a buzzing coming from Smiling Tiger's pocket. Everyone freezes. Eyes flitting to Sam, you don't dare break now.

"Answer it," Selby demands, "On speaker." The Winter Soldier crosses the room, now standing behind Selby, while she calls over one of her own guards. The biggest one.

"Hello?" Smiling Tiger greets.

"Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It's been drivin' me nuts," the voice of a female answers.

"What situation exactly are you talkin' about?" He responds.

"Are you high? You know what situation, it's the only situation me and you have," the voice retorts, getting agitated. Eyes on Smiling Tiger, you can still see out of your peripheral vision that Selby begins rounding the Winter Soldier, checking him out, you're sure.

"What situation, Sarah? Say it," Smiling Tiger demands. Sarah? That's... his sister. Shit.

"The damn boat. And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank," Sarah explains.

Selby begins to approach the armchair, the sound of something dragging across fabric makes you think she's grazing the chair to intimidate you all. Smiling Tiger scoffs. "The bank? Yeah. Laundered so much..." He chuckles as if he were doing his best 'villain impression' and not actually in a life-or-death situation. "Yeah, they'll come around."

"If that was the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?" Sarah questions. This isn't good, this is poking holes in his character. You know this must sound suspicious to Selby. Eyes finally beginning to break, you turn your gaze toward Bucky for a second, his gaze unmoving, so you turn back to meet Zemo's gaze. His hand tightens on your waist.

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed," Smiling Tiger threatens.

"Cass! What'd I tell you about the Cheerios? I don't have time for this! Sam, I'm sorry- let me call you back." The beep of the call ending fills the room.

"'Sam'? Who's Sam?" Selby asks, eyes gauging you all. "Kill them!" The command comes quick, yet the bullet comes quicker. Glass breaks somewhere behind you and you're jumping in your skin. Sam goes for the man beside him, Zemo throws you off his lap. Bucky grabs the man to your left, knocking him out with his own gun before you're all running to the exit, or rather, the door you'd come in from.

"They're gonna pin this on us," Sam warns, back against the door as he's armed with one of the men's guns. Bucky stands lookout with the gun he'd picked up. Now you're panicking, wondering why the hell you didn't pick up a gun?! Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you run a hand through your hair, anxiety rampant.

Zemo sighs. "We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead," he directs. In an attempt to play nonchalant, you all exit the casino you'd entered and wind through the confusing corridors until you're back in the bar you'd come through originally. Walking out of the bar, you're doing your best to keep up in stride with the men as you're not as tall, and your strides certainly don't match theirs-- even in heels.

It's only once you're out on the street that you hear phones chiming left and right, everyone's eyes falling on your group. Motion from your right garners your attention and you stumble, a woman within a shop's window making a finger gun towards all of you and shooting you repeatedly. "This is not good," Zemo states. Almost at the crossroads just beyond the train tracks, the lights above you go out. Someone ahead of you starts unloading a clip, the banging of metal and clinking of empty casings ring throughout the air.

Everyone ducks, "Shit!" you hear Sam yell, while you'd made a noise that could only resemble someone being punched in the guts. A hand grabs yours and tugs at you. It's Zemo. Running after him, he guides you through the streets of Madripoor into an alleyway and around trash cans, litter, boxes, and through gates.

On the corner at a crossroads of which path to take, you spot quick movement from your peripheral vision on the left. Pushing Zemo into another alley, you hear a metallic boing echo, a telltale sign of ricocheted fire. Someone is clearly still following you both. His dark eyes widen in surprise, and though the moment feels drawn out as you both stare at one another, a nearby bang reignites his fervor. Tugged through the dirty, puddled streets of Madripoor. You're approaching another road when Zemo pushes you behind the wall of a deserted outdoor booth.

A gloved hand covers your mouth as the Baron crams himself between you, the wooden pallets of the vacant vendor stall, and the brick wall of the alleyway. There's a slight light flooding out from one of the apartments on the second story. In this, you see the wild look in his brown eyes. Ignoring the obvious closeness of your chests pressed against one another, and the rapid beating of your hearts thumping, you can't help but realize where your hands are. Having reached out in the heat of the moment for some sort of stabilization, your palms rest against the thick fur coat on either side of his hips.

Before you can question his intentions, the wet pounding of boots echoes down the alleyway. Whoever had been pursuing was running, only for their footsteps to stall. The constant pounding turns into an occasional splash as they step through puddle after puddle. Feet uncomfortable as Zemo's leg had wound up between yours, you slightly shift under his weight. He shakes his head, clearly worried about the person as their footsteps start to sound more and more distant. If either of you make a noise, they'll come back.

Luckily, they don't hear, it seems as the footsteps get more and more quiet, more distant. Though Zemo doesn't move. Another half a minute passes before he finally releases you, letting you exit the hiding spot first. "My apologies," he offers, clearly wanting to make his intentions clear. "I only meant to-"

"-Save us, I got it," you cut him off. "thanks." Not wanting to further discuss or acknowledge what'd just happened, you try to put it out of your mind. Ignore the flickers of desire that had bubbled up upon his proximity.

"Precisely," he adds. While it seems he wanted the last word, it doesn't go over your head how both of you seem to want to move on or change the topic. Refocusing on what's next, you realize finding Sam and Bucky might be hard given you're in unfamiliar territory.

Following Zemo through the streets, it doesn't take long for the nearby sound of Bucky and Sam bickering to alleviate your worries. Hot on their trail, you and Zemo give each other an amused look before running off in the direction of their sound.

"You seem to have a guardian angel," Zemo states, bewildered, as the both of you round a dumpster and meet up with the rest of your group. Relief fills you as you're more than grateful you'd found them and you're all still seemingly in one piece.

"Well this is too perfect," A feminine voice states from behind you. Upon turning you find that a gun's being held to your group, though more specifically, him. "Drop it, Zemo," she commands. The Baron puts his gun on the ground and you back up, watching as Bucky squints in her direction, while Sam raises his hands in surrender.

"Sharon?" Bucky questions. The name sounds familiar, though you can't place her face or name. The woman still approaches, gun aimed at Zemo.

"You cost me everything." Her tone is low... her eyes dangerous. She's clearly here for one purpose and one purpose only: she's going to kill him.

"Sharon, wait-" Sam begs, and you all find yourselves joining him in raising your hands in surrender. Placing himself between her and the gun, Sam defends him "-Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead," he explains.

"Well, that explains why you guys are here, and Selby's dead." Righting her head from having tilted it while assessing all of you, she continues to eye each one of you.

"So what are you doing here?" Bucky asks, daring to take a step forward. With the way there's still a pit in your stomach, it takes a moment to dawn on you. He's deescalating the situation; he's using a military tactic. Or perhaps a psychological tactic, you're unsure. Either way, he's doing something, which is better than you can say for yourself.

"I stole Steve's shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass-" she points the gun at Sam, then at Bucky, and finally Zemo. "-so that you could save his ass from his ass. Unlike you I didn't have the Avengers to back me up. So I'm off the grid in Madripoor," she explains. Doing mental calculations in your mind you try to place how a woman like this could have access to Steve's shield. That's when it hits you. Sharon Carter, the woman who'd been in a relationship with Steve for a while. You'd heard her mentioned once or twice by Sam and Joaquin, she held a high-ranking position in the CIA until... well, until the whole ordeal happened with the Avengers... with Zemo.

"Hey, don't blow smoke at me. I was on the run, too," Sam argues.

"Was. Is. Big difference. I don't speak to my family anymore. I can't. My own father doesn't know where I am," she clarifies, finally lowering her gun. With everything you've put together, it makes sense why she'd be angry at them. Hell, why she'd even want to kill Zemo, you get.

"Listen, Sharon we need your help," Bucky states, taking another step closer. Sharon chuckles, an incredulous look on her face you recognize all too well. They're asking for her help... again. After she says she's lost everything because of them. "Please," Bucky begs. Sharon sighs, and you finally feel your shoulders droop and relax a little. While you don't know her personally, you feel for her. With all that'd happened in the last few minutes it only comes to realization now how the guys had taken each moment of conversation during their attempts at deescalation to from a blockade in front of you and Zemo.

"This isn't over," Sharon warns, "I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for awhile." With a nod of her head in the direction you'd come, Bucky follows her. You follow him, and looking back momentarily you spot Sam pushing Zemo.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

tmt taglist: @wheres-mylove

#helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #tfaws reader insert #tmt #the missing title #my series #my writing #marvel reader insert #mcu reader insert #read tags on top #the falcon and the winter soldier reader insert

[vivid4am]

Life Goes On (Chapter 11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are in Madripoor. Y/N finally gets to see the Winter Soldier in action.

Warnings: Language, TFATWS spoilers

A/N: Sorry for the year long wait! I had really really REALLY bad writer's block, but I'm hoping to finally finish this fic. It's what y'all deserve for being so kind. Also, I google translated the Russian from the show as best as I could. It's not perfect, but we'll pretend that it is. Thanks!

Chapter 10

The thing that Y/N noticed immediately as she stepped off the plane was the humidity. The air felt thick and stuffy in Madripoor. 

Madripoor is an island in Southeast Asia run by, you guessed it, a rotating variety of criminal gangs and terrorist groups. Y/N’s blood thrummed as she read up on the country during the flight. 

Thankfully the A/C in Zeno’s hideout was still working, despite him not being there for a while. Zemo had given Sam and Y/N fake identities that they would hide under. Powerful people who no one would dare try to touch. Bucky didn’t need one, as everyone already knew him as the Winter Soldier. 

Y/N was hesitant. Sure, she could pull off a few lies, but to try and fake out criminals? Liars who could spot liars? That would be difficult for her to do. 

What was even more difficult was the lack of choice she got in her clothing. Y/N wore a short black mini dress with swirled silver glitter adorned to it. Her hair was pulled up, which was helpful considering the heat. The dress hugged her in all the right places and she was afraid that would stir up trouble. The black strap heels she wore dug into her ankles but she tried not to complain. 

She took on the identity of Katrina Stachová, a daughter of an affluent man from the Czech Republic who did most of his dealings in Madripoor. Katrina Stanchová was apparently also involved with Conrad Mack, the Smiling Tiger, aka Sam Wilson. 

With Zemo in the lead, the four marched towards their disastrous plan. Despite the numerous criminals that roamed the streets of Madripoor, Y/N was astounded by the country at night. The bright purple and blue lights lit up the skyline. The smell of the ocean was a little sour and foul, but Y/N disregarded it as best as she could. 

“We have to do something about this,” Sam sighed. “I look like a pimp and Y/N looks like a lady of the night.” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“No offense.” Sam grumbled. 

“Only an American would think that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp and the lovely Lisichika resembles a lady of the night. It’s called fitting into your surroundings.” Zemo argued back with Sam. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming, African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

Y/N laughed. “God, he even has a bad nickname.” She said, playfully hitting Sam on the arm. Zemo took the phone out of his coat pocket and handed it over to Sam. On the phone was an almost identical match to Sam. To the untrained eye, one would say that Sam and Conrad are identical twins. However, upon closer inspection, there is a mole under Conrad’s left eye, while Sam is without one. Zemo must think that the others won’t get close enough to notice. 

Y/N heaved a heavy inhale through the nose and then out the mouth. Everything was just starting to settle in for her. She felt terrified. 

“You smell this?” Zemo asked, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam replied. 

“Madripoor,” Zemo replied. “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character,” He coached. “Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error.” 

The group came upon a black car that was waiting for them on the bridge. It was parked perpendicular to the bridge, almost blocking their way. Sweat broke out on Y/N’s forehead. She felt sick to her stomach with nerves. 

“High Town’s that way.” Zemo said, motioning to the skyline in front of them. “Not a bad place if you want to visit,” Zemo opened the door to the car, Bucky following in the back seat to let Sam and Y/N in. He hasn’t spoken a word at all tonight. And that makes Y/N really nervous. Y/N zoned out of the rest of the conversation, doing her best to pull herself together so she doesn’t sell them out before their plan of trickery even starts.

On the ride toward the club, the car is surrounded by bikes that seem to escort the quartet. Y/N swallowed hard and chewed on the inside of her cheek. She thought she was doing really well, holding herself together, thought that no one noticed. 

Bucky’s fingers grabbed her hand, slowly intertwining their fingers together. 

Oh, She thought. Bucky noticed. 

-

Soon enough, the four arrived at their destination. Bucky subtly calmed Y/N’s nerves by holding her hand in the car. But now, she noticed, he was on high alert. He made sure that Y/N was in front of him the entire time and looked around his surroundings for any immediate threats. Zemo led the sailing group through a sea of people. Criminals making deals, counting cash, and yelling threats at one another. 

When they made it inside the club, Bucky notice Y/N tense up, her shoulders almost touching her ears. She looked like she wanted to crawl and hide away. It took a moment for Bucky to realize that she was uncomfortable being around a bunch of men in a crowded unfamiliar place. Not just men, he reminded himself, criminals. 

Bucky closely trailed behind Y/N careful to not let her out of his sight. Zemo, ahead of the group announced in a loud voice so that everyone was aware of his presence. “Я готов отвечить зимний солдат?” 

Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?

Bucky's jaw clenched at the phrase. He swallowed thickly, eyes trained on what was in front of him. An attempt to ground him. Y/N. 

Whispers broke out around the group. Whispers about the Winter Soldier being here. Shocked gasps entered his ears, making his skin crawl in disgust. He hated himself like this. 

Bucky stood idly by the bar while Zemo, Sam, and Y/N ordered their “usual” drinks. It took every bit of Bucky’s strength to hold himself together when Sam almost threw up over his snake shot. Y/N downed her martini without thinking twice. Bucky leaned on the bar, as he watched this tall man, bald and bearded with many tattoos approach Zemo from behind. 

He cleared his throat, causing Zemo to turn around. “Got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.” The man said, head nudging towards the upstairs balcony. Zemo, cool and collective replied, “I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me..” He then turned to Bucky. Bucky’s stone-cold blue eyes glared at the man. The man smirked. “New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo stated, earning the man’s attention again. The man seemed to grow uncomfortable and then retreated, turning his heel and stalking away.

“A power broker, really?” Bucky scoffed. 

“Every kingdom needs its’ king,” Zemo replied. “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam asked. Zemo shook his head. “Only by reputation. In Madripoor, he’s judge, jury, and executioner.” 

“That’s one shitty justice system.” Y/N deadpanned. She picked an olive off of the toothpick of her martini. Bucky would’ve laughed at Y/N, showed some sort of appreciation for her deprecating humor, but another man, this one in a black beanie, sauntered behind the group. Bucky stood by, waiting for his orders.

Zemo sighed, seeing the man before he turned around and said,

“зимний солдат. ты атакуешь.”

Winter Soldier, attack.

It was expected for the man to grab Zemo’s shoulder.

But that’s only in T.V. shows, Bucky gathered. Nothing is ever perfect for them. 

The man grabbed Y/N’s shoulder with a tight grip and Bucky immediately sprung into action. 

-

Everything happened so fast. One minute Y/N was eating a gin-soaked olive and the next she was watching Bucky beat the living shit out of a man who grabbed her by the shoulder. Y/N watched in horror as Bucky dodged punches and then launched into attacks, metal arm clamming in human skin. Bones cracked from the sheer strength of his punches. Sam and Y/N couldn’t do anything but stand by and watch. Zemo seemed to egg him on, sending more enemies his way. 

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo smirked to Sam, sending chills up Y/N’ spine. She had forgotten that this wasn’t the Bucky that she knew. 

The Bucky she knew liked listening to Frank Sinatra and playing rummy with her over a few beers. The Bucky she knew would sit and listen to her babble on and on about The Beatles. And he’d never complain about it. 

But this Bucky, he was cold and ruthless. It made her stomach flip and her thighs shake. 

The sound of a gun cocking made Y/N  freeze and quickly swallow her vile. She watched as everyone in the room loaded and cocked their guns, just as Bucky slammed his latest victim into the bar. Sam laid his hand on Bucky’s metal soldier. Zemo cleared his throat. “Stay in character, or this whole bar turns on us.” He hissed.

Y/N watched as Zemo rolled his shoulders back and placed his hand on Bucky. “Молодец, солдат.”

Well done, Soldier. 

Bucky immediately snapped out of his rageful “trance”. “Selby will see you now.” The bartender stated wanting to quickly get the group out from ruining the rest of his business for the night. 

Bucky let go of the man. The man slid down the bar, gasping for air. Sam, with a concerned look in his eyes, softly asked. “You good?” Bucky did nothing else but exhale sharply in reply, before turning away and following after Zemo. 

Regret was drowning in his blue eyes and Y/N wanted to scream and cry for him. He didn’t want to revert back to his old self, she knew. Her heart ached for him. She wanted to wrap her arm around him and tell him everything would be just fine. 

But she couldn’t. 

Because now she had to face Selby. 

Life Goes On Tag List:

@livvpl107 @navs-bhat @bluemoon-icecream @sltwins @loveheathens @wintersfilm @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @theashlynbarnes @joscelyn02 @gene5sos @vibraniumqueen @icant-hangout-imdrumming @spideyswebshooters @darkacademic2 @bahama-mama-llama @lawrencekate @thewinterrbucky @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @dancerslovelife @hey-there-angels @archaeoheart @unmagically @marvelfansworld @lethallyprotected @marvelanddumbstuff @tylard-blog1 @lokigirlszendaya

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #protective!bucky #tfatsw #tfatws!bucky #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan #the falcon #sam wilson #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #x reader #self insert #crossposted on ao3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Bucky Barnes One Shots

Bucky Barnes Main Masterlist

A/N: all reader inserts are female unless otherwise stated. These are as inclusive as possible and only description that may be included is if reader has hair (mostly used in rough smut scenes).   KEY: ⁂ = smut † = death ⨮ =angst ꕥ = fluff ⧻ = 500+ notes

The Ransom ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Sassy reader gets rescued by boyfriend!Bucky and Avengers Whiteout ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Friends to lovers trope, mission extraction gone wrong, PWP Sick Day ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick Fix You ⁂ ꕥ ➴ You take care of CW!Bucky after a nightmare Equal Opportunist ⁂ ➴ Assassin!Bucky keeps killing your marks so you have sex with him, PWP Sex-Ed ⧻ ➴ You fumble your way through teaching sex-ed with Bucky watching The Ghost Of You || AudioBook ➴ After the blip you have to survive the heartache without Bucky Postpartum Depression  ➴ Bucky helps you at your lowest, read warnings and tags Silver Tongue ➴ You break your rules to save Bucky End of the Line † ➴ Steve dies of old age in your care  Fall From Grace ⁂ ➴ MFF threesome, angel-turned-demon reader You Don’t Own Me  † || Dark!Winter Soldier ➴ No happy endings here, read warnings and tags 10 Little Lies ➴ Friends to lovers trope, a drunken night ends with Bucky in your bed  Eggplant Emoji ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes matters into his own hands when you struggle with modern dating. Good Behaviour ⁂ || ft. Baron Helmut Zemo ➴ The Baron sets you up a new Dom, Bucky, for when he is sent back to prison. Hacked ꕥ⨮ ➴ Your phone gets hacked and intimate files get threatened to be shared Obscene Behaviour ꕥ|| Platonic / Sam & Bucky ➴ Your coffee date with your friends takes a turn when you feed your newborn. She Knows ⁂ ⧻ ➴ You activate a new kink as you tease your boyfriend from across the bar. By Your Side ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick. Not Enough ꕥ ➴ Friends to lovers trope. When Worlds Collide ꕥ ➴ Your life changes completely when you and Bucky collide. Babysitting Bucky ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You are partnered with Bucky and he is not happy with the arrangement Control & Comfort ⁂ ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky has a rough day and takes it out in your p*ssy Plié or Pliable ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ Bucky watches you practicing ballet and wants to know how flexible you are.  A Change Of Season ⨮ ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ You are reunited with Bucky after Nat frees you from the Red Room, but it’s not what you expected Better Late Than Never ⁂ || Bucky, Steve, Natasha x reader ➴ You come home to find the party started without you. Takeout ꕥ ➴ You try to make a home cooked meal but it doesn’t go to plan Nightmares ⁂ || SamBucky ➴ When you wake to find Bucky caught in a nightmare there’s only one way to chase away the lingering fear. Mine ⁂ ⨮ ➴ Bucky gets jealous and spanks you for it Last Words ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You get kidnapped after storming out from a fight with Bucky The Bond We Share || vampire!reader ➴ You bond yourself to Bucky to save his life My Heart Remembers You ⨮ ꕥ ➴ Your love transcends time as you are reborn to find your Bucky Burning House ⨮ ➴ Another night another nightmare The Interrogation ⁂ || Winter Soldier ➴ You interrogate the Winter Soldier Promises ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You need to come to grips with your newly acquired power The Secret Life of Bucky Barnes ➴ A glimpse into life as Bucky’s secret girlfriend Wallflower ꕥ ➴ You and Bucky finally confess your feeling for each other Instinct ꕥ || blind!reader ➴ Bucky tracks you down after trying to stop a mugging and he ends up staying for the company. Don’t Want To Miss A Thing ⁂ ➴ Bucky celebrates your birthday Seven Seconds † ➴ In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

[whiskeyswriting]

Dragon's 5k Followers Celebration

For Rachael:

Asserting Her Tiny Dominance (Doc Holliday x Baylie Kazasnky x Rachael Kazansky)

Chaos Squad’s Incorrect Quotes with Rooster

Love is Blind? No. John is Blind! (John Henry Petterson x Rachael)

Preview: Gotham’s Golden Couple (Bruce Wayne x Rachael)

Where Are We Going? (Iceman x Dragon)

Reader Insert:

Slow Dance in a Parking Lot (Steven Grant x Fem!Reader)

Syllabus and Tea (Baron Zemo x Reader)

Those Two Lines (Goose x Fem!Reader)

--

Discord 🏷 List: @dragon-kazansky @cycbaby @callsignscupcake @mtnofgrace @bayisdying @askmarinaandothers @altierirose @breadsquash @callsignthirsty

Forever 🏷 List: @callmemana

#mrsjaderogerswrites #mrsjaderogersmasterlists #dragons5kcelebration

[late-to-the-party-81]

Planes and Barons and Knives, oh my!

AN: Welcome to day 23. Another fic that's a bit different today as I'm using an OFC rather than a reader insert. I hope you still enjoy. This story is set in the same universe as 'Bad Kids', but all you need to know for this story is that Zemo and Marcy are in an established 'Sugar' relationship.

I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Beta’d by @lunarbuck

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x OFC Marcy Scholtz

CW: Role play, Knife kink, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby relationship, Baron Zemo's coat, mild threats of violence within Role play, age difference (Marcy is mid-20's, Zemo is in his 40's).

Word count: 1.8k

The plane lurched, and Marcy grabbed hold of the sideboard in the small galley.  Why she’d agreed to this, she had no idea, but when the magnetic man who is paying for all of your university tuition asks something of you, you do it.

With the small pocket of turbulence passed by, she smoothed down the skirt of her hostess uniform, picked up the drinks tray containing the Old Fashioned cocktail that had been ordered by the single passenger and owner of the aircraft, and sashayed out of the small prep area towards her quarry.

Her eyes lingered on the frame of the man. Chestnut hair, expertly coiffed, eyes as dark and mesmerising as the whisky in the tumbler, and a knowing quirk on his lips. He knew he was attractive - not only because of his visage but also because of his wealth. He wore a dark brown coat with an ostentatious fur collar. Marcy still wasn’t sure how she felt about wearing real fur.

As she reached his side, his smile broadened. Fuck, he was handsome. It was going to make it hard to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Here’s your drink, sir.” 

She smiled back as she placed the crystal tumbler down on the little side table. The passenger didn’t even look at it, instead focusing his gaze on her form, the way her uniform fit, up to her hair that was tied back neatly in a bun at her nape. He reached out a hand, settling it on her hip, giving a slight squeeze, before stroking down, quickly, over her ass and making a small gasp escape her lips.

The only other hostess on this flight was currently in the cockpit with the pilot, but really, that’s what Marcy needed. Instead of slapping his hand away, she placed her hand on her hip, cocking it out to the side so that her uniform skirt tightened over her backside.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”

His smile was predatory, and for a moment Marcy wondered if she could actually do this, do what she’s been asked - no, commanded - to do. However, before she could even blink, the man had snagged her wrist and pulled her down to sit, sideways across his lap.

“Keep me company, Zlatko, whilst I enjoy this lovely drink you have made me.”

Marcy giggled, hiding her mouth with her hand coquettishly.

“I can’t believe that a man such as you ever lacks for company.”

“You’d be surprised, my dear. I’ll have you know that I’m quite picky.”

He raised the glass to his lips and took a small sip, looking at her intently over the rim.

“I’m honoured then that you would like to spend some time with me.”

Marcy tried not to let her glee take over. This was going better than she thought. She moved her hands tentatively, one to press over the man’s heart, through his shirt, and the other to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching gently at the delicate skin with the tips of her manicured nails. Now all she had to do was wait.

Twenty minutes later and Marcy’s back was bouncing off the door of the jet’s private bedroom. Her skirt was hitched up, so that her legs could wrap around the man’s waist. His arms were around her back, his face buried in her neck as he kissed and sucked and bit at her sensitive flesh. She mewled and ground against him, the impressive bulge in his woollen slacks pressing up against her damp lace panties.

“I’ve never done something like this before…” Her voice was breathy as it left her throat, her mind cloudy with desire as she tried desperately to remember what she was supposed to be doing. 

“Now it is I who is honoured then, Maličký.”

Her companion started to kiss his way towards the top of her blouse and the swell of her breasts when she recalled her mission. She lifted his head and pressed her forehead against his.

“Take me to the bed. We’ll be more comfortable.”

He raised his eyebrow but did as she asked, letting her slide down his body slowly as he reached the plush mattress. Marcy eased the fur coat off his shoulders and gave him a small push to indicate he should sit as she hung up the expensive piece of clothing - she didn’t want to distract him by treating his clothes shabbily.

When she returned, she straddled his lap, hands cupping his face, before kissing him seductively. His arms wrapped back around her waist as he fiercely kissed her back, his tongue invading her mouth as groans of desire left his. His eyes closed, and that’s when Marcy decided to take her chance. Under the guise of undoing her blouse, she reached into her bra for the small, ceramic-blade flick knife. Opening it behind his back, she angled her wrist so the point was aimed towards his neck and wondered if she could actually do it.

However, the next thing she knew, she was laying face down on the bed, a knee in her back and the point of the knife now pressing against her own neck…

“Tut tut, Mačiatko. Sloppy. You need to be better than that to get me. You’d have had more luck poisoning the drink.”

Marcy drew in a shuddering breath, clenching her fists into the bed sheets.

“Please… I’m sorry… I…”

“Shhhhh…” Gently, he trailed the knife over the back of her neck to her nape, then used the point to ease the wig off her head, revealing her bright pink bob.

“There…much better. Being a brunette didn’t suit you at all.”

Squirming, she tried to shift him off her back, and when his knee lifted, she thought she’d done it, but he skillfully flipped her over before straddling her waist. He immediately resumed teasing her with the knife point again, making barely visible trails across her pale skin.

“Baron, please…”

The point pressed firmer into the skin near her shoulder, making her wince.

“Did I say you could speak?” 

Eyes wide and biting her lip, Marcy shook her head. She should have realised that this is what would happen if she didn’t succeed.

“Good girl. Stay quiet now. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s time for me to have mine.”

With a deft, practised movement, he changed his grip on the knife handle, eased the point under Marcy’s blouse, and cut it open. She gasped loudly, and his feral grin returned, shifting himself down her body so he could dispose of her skirt in the same manner. She was left lying on the bed in nude stockings and lingerie that matched her bubblegum pink hair.

“Now, would you look at that… it strikes me that you wanted to get caught…”

He trailed the blade over Marcy’s near-naked body, making her shudder and shiver under its fine, cool touch. It struck her that she should be scared or at least trying to make some kind of escape, but in reality, she was getting aroused. Aroused by her own vulnerability. Aroused by his mastery of the blade and his calmness. When she rubbed her thighs together without thinking, her body trying to ease the ache between them, the Baron growled under his breath.

“Enough of this.” With a flick of his wrist, Zemo sent the knife flying across the room, embedding it into the sideboard.  “I want you, now.”

His fingers tangled into Marcy’s hair, and their previously banked desire came back to the fore, rising now that the game was discarded. They writhed together on the bed, working to rid Zemo of his turtleneck and slacks. Now it was Marcy’s turn to ogle him. 

While he might be quite a bit older than her, she appreciated him physically. She wouldn’t have agreed to a change in their agreement if she hadn’t. His body was overall lean and muscular, with a slight softening around his stomach. Dark hair was sprinkled across his chest alongside a whole story told in scars. She loved to trace the silvery trails as they lay in bed together, trying to work out which of the stories he told about how he gained them were true - if any. He told a new story every night.

Her appreciative study of her benefactor-turned-lover was cut short as he pulled her panties down her legs, roughly shoved them apart, and thrust into her.

“Hel! Oh god!”

He snapped his hips and nipped at her earlobe.

“I did wonder how you were going to make your attempt. It was hard not to be on edge every second. Wondering what you had up your sleeve. I didn’t expect it to be in your bra instead…” He moved his mouth to worry at her neck, increasing the number of marks he had already placed there, marks of ownership, of mastery.

Marcy dug her fingers into his bare shoulders, pressing in crescent-shaped marks, before dragging them down his back, leaving raised welts in their wake and making him hiss against her throat.

“Two more seconds and I’d have had you…” 

Zemo slid a broad palm under the small of Marcy’s back, tilting her hips and driving deeper, and making her eyes roll back into her head.

“But you didn’t. And that means when we get home, I’ll have to punish you, Princezná. But for now…”

He slid his other hand between them, fingers easily finding the young woman’s clit and stroking the engorged bundle of nerves.

“Please! Oh, Hel, please! Oh!”

“Cum for me. That’s it. Let go and be a good girl…”

Marcy’s legs tightened around his waist, her heels pressing into his buttocks as she went rigid, her orgasm washing through her. A few more thrusts and Zemo followed her over the precipice, filling her with his cum, before rolling over on the large bed, drawing her with him.

As they lay, recovering, he carded his fingers through her neon locks, marvelling at how much her hair had grown in the few months since the start of their arrangement. His superiors hadn’t been impressed with the way he had dealt with the apparent threat to the peace that had been Marcy’s ragtag organisation of protestors, but they couldn’t really argue that it hadn’t been effective. Paying for the problem to go away hadn’t been in the GRC wheelhouse of solutions. Luckily, it was always in Zemo’s.

“Hel…”

“Yes, my dear?”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this assassin work. Even if it is pretend.”

He smiled fondly at the young woman, who he was coming to realise he cared for more than he should.

“Well, maybe next time, you could just be my maid…”

“Maybe I’ll tickle you to death with a duster…”

Zemo growled playfully, rolling them again and pinning her to the bed. God, did she make him feel young again.

“You could try, Zlatko. You could try.”

The plane flew on, towards Sokovia, turbulence-free, except in the bedroom.

Zlatko - sweetheart

Princezná - princess

Maličký – little one

Mačiatko – kitten

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @sheismarvelousworld

#kinktober22 #kinktober 2022 #late writes #baron zemo #helmut zemo #Zemo x OFC #OFC fic #Zemo x original female character #baron helmut zemo #zemo fic

[i-am-true-believer]

This message is for the late night scrollers, the ones who prowl Tumblr late at night for an escape. Looking for those fics that hit just right, that take away the hurt and make you feel like your comfort character is there, beside you, holding you, loving you.

Take a deep breath for me, in and out. They're there. Can you feel them? They know you struggled today and they're so proud of you! They're so happy to see you even if it's only in the dark, when you're hurting, when you need an escape. They treasure these moments with you, breathing in your scent, feeling you. God, how they love you.

I hope you find the story you need. The one that brings you comfort and peace that follows you into your dreams. I hope tomorrow is better then today and that you remember you are loved, even if the only love you can feel is from that fictional character you adore so much.

They believe in you and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr who's scrolling late at night too.

#love #dr strange x you #daddy!bucky x little!reader #hawkeye x reader #jefferson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #bruce banner x reader #sam wilson x reader #marvel x platonic reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #baron helmut zemo #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #depression #comfort character #comfort #harry potter x reader #ron weasly x reader #draco malfoy x reader

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo (TFATWS) imagines - Craving Part 2

AN: Right giving you all what you really wanted... 

Summary: After playing the part as Zemo's arm candy in Madripoor, Zemo tries to confront you on your unspoken connection, only to be rudely interrupted...

In this chapter: After having a dream about the man himself, you decide to seek out Zemo...

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,013

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, receiving oral, choking, Zemo does use a couple phrases in his language and since Sokovia isn’t a real country or language I used Polish (I have seen several fic use German before however). 

You tossed and turned in bed as you tried to get comfortable. Your skin felt hot and uncomforatble to be in and your mind wouldn't stop replaying Zemo’s hands on you. The large bedroom made every movement sound louder than it was so every time you rolled and made the bed frame creak, the more you frustrated you grew. 

You hated Zemo for making you feel so confused. He was an attractive man, that was true, but he had torn the avengers apart. He had used Bucky’s past against him several times and even gotten you hurt because of it. Why did you all of a sudden have the desire to see what he tasted like... 

You figured he’d taste like mint toothpaste and whiskey or perhaps of coffee from earlier or perhaps.... What were you doing?! 

You buried your face into your pillow and groaned. 

You must’ve fallen asleep eventually because you had started dreaming. 

You were back in Madripoor. It was Sharon’s high town home and you had just changed for the party. Except you weren’t wearing what you actually wore that night. Instead, you were wearing a long silky black dress that dropped to the floor with a small trail. It had thin black straps that went over your shoulder and connected to the dress delicately; the dress was completely backless and the cool air from Sharon’s AC tickled your exposed skin. 

“You look beautiful.” Zemo’s voice filled the room. You looked up in the mirror to see Zemo standing at the door behind you. 

“It’s not too much?” You asked, flattening out the skirt with your hands. 

Zemo made his way towards you until he was right behind you. The hairs prickling up on your back revealed just how close he was standing. 

“Not at all.” Zemo brushed the tip of his finger along your shoulder, following the curve from your neck and then down your arm until he cupped your elbow gently. “You look perfect.” 

You felt your breathing stop as Zemo started to learn forward, his eyes remained locked with yours in the mirror as his lips finally met your skin. 

He kissed your shoulder lightly before opening his mouth and grazing his teeth against your flesh, biting ever so gently but with enough pressure to make the sex between your legs throb. 

“We shouldn’t.” You whispered. 

“Why not?” Zemo turned you to face him with the hand that rested on your elbow. He brought you closer to him, pressing a hand to the exposed small of your back. His strong calloused hand against you only made your legs feel weaker. 

“You know why.” You placed your hands on his chest but didn’t push him away. Yet. 

“Ahh, yes. Because of James?” Zemo tilted his head. “What would poor James do if he caught us together like this?” Zemo let his hand slide down the outside of your thigh and hook under your knee, bringing your leg up to his hip to bring you closer. 

You smirked, leaning into the man’s ear. Brushing your lips just ever so slightly against his lobe as you spoke. 

“He’d kill you.” You whispered. 

That’s when you woke up. 

You woke up covered in sweat, your chest heaving and your hair slick to your forehead. You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep for because Bucky was now asleep on the couch in the room too. 

You hoped you didn’t sleep talk anything weird during that dream but you figured that Bucky would be waiting for you to wake up to confront you if you had said Zemo's name or something similar. 

You climbed out of the bed quietly and headed towards the door. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep after that dream and you had felt gross from waking up all sweaty so you made your way to the bathroom. 

You splashed cool water on your face and wiped your neck and chest with a damp towel before you left the bathroom again.

You looked down the hall to Zemo’s room. 

You knew which one it was for safety measures. Sam had taken the room beside his so that he could keep an eye on him but you knew Sam would probably be in the living room on his laptop at this hour to keep watch. Make sure no one is sneaking in or out of the apartment. But that also meant you could creep over to Zemo’s room without the anxiety of Sam coming out of his. 

You found yourself walking before you could stop yourself. 

You hovered outside the door for what felt like an eternity before you lightly rapped on the door. 

You opened it without hearing a response. 

Zemo was sat up on the edge of the bed, tying his robe around him as he must have had been woken by the intrusion. 

“I thought you were Sam.” Zemo rose to his feet after he realised it was you who had entered. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologised. 

“You didn’t. I was merely laying in the bed. I did not lie when I told you about my struggles with sleeping.” Zemo had mentioned his insomnia in the kitchen before. 

You remained in the doorway, just looking at Zemo, panicking slightly as you tried to find something to say. 

“I don’t know why I’m here.” You said lowly. 

“You don’t?” Zemo cocked his eyebrow at you but didn’t move. 

“I just...” You started, “I had this...” You failed to explain yourself.  

“Shh. Shh. Shh.” Zemo waved his hand. He slowly made his way towards you. “You don’t need to come up with excuses.” 

“I’m not.” You argued. 

“Just tell me the truth.” Zemo was now in front of you. He was close enough that you could see the slight stripe pattern on his dark pyjamas beneath his robe. You could also see slight hair poking out of the top of his shirt as the first few buttons were undone. You resisted the urge to reach out and stroke your fingers down his exposed chest, to explore what was beneath his silk pyjamas...

“I-I...” You struggled to respond. You almost felt like punching a wall at how frustrated you were at the fact that Zemo somehow managed to leave you completely speechless. 

“I often use these long nights to think.” Zemo spoke so you didn’t have to. 

“What do you think about?” You questioned. 

“A lot of things usually.” Zemo waved his hand as he spoke. “But these past couple nights I’ve found myself thinking of something more out of the ordinary.”

“And what’s that?” You asked.

“You.” Zemo cocked his head as he looked at you.

You felt a heat grow between your legs as you watched his eyes flicker to your lips for a second. 

“May I?” Zemo stepped forward, reaching his hand out to close the door behind you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his face passed yours. Zemo slowly pulled back from the door, your faces were mere inches away from each other as he hadn't bothered to go around you to close the door but over your shoulder instead. 

Your gaze met. The thick tension around you was suffocating. 

With his right hand, he reached up and cupped your jaw, firmly underneath your ear. His thumb ran over your cheek; his touch burning against you.  

Zemo leant forward, closing the space between you, and kissed you. 

It was a sweet kiss. A first kiss. He was testing the waters. 

Just as he went to pull away, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him back in. Your body flushed against his as a powerful urge took over you. 

Desperation. Need. A fire that grew in your stomach.

Zemo placed one hand in your hair and it’s counterpart on the small of your back. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he tugged lightly at the back of your hair. 

Zemo’s mouth traveled down your jaw to your neck. His tongue sent goosebumps over your skin as he explored it. He could taste the saltiness from the result of your dream. 

“Did you get all hot and bothered for me, mały ptaszku?” He cooed as his hand moved from your hair to your shoulder. He stroked down the back of your arm until he reached your elbow. You felt your heart skip with the flashback to your dream. 

“What are we doing?” You asked breathlessly as you clung onto the man’s robe. 

“Anything you desire.” He lifted his head back to face you. 

There was a beguiling darkness in his eyes but it didn’t scare you. It only enticed you. 

Zemo took your hand and brought it to his lips. He pressed a silky kiss to your fingers all the while maintaining eye contact. The way his lips look as they curved against your fingers made your stomach tighten with want.

Zemo had noticed the blazing fire in your eyes as you watched him. He smirked, taking just one of your fingers and placing in between his teeth. He dragged it gently, grazing your finger as he pulled it down his lip; the cool night air tickled the wetness on your skin.

Zemo let go of your hand before lifting his own fingers to your lips. You let out a shaky breath as he stroked his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“So beautiful.” Zemo took a moment to admire you. Your lips were slightly plump from his kiss and your eyes were wide, glistening in the dim light. 

You reached forward and steadily untied his robe. He shrugged off the extra layer at your silent request. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Zemo’s searched your eyes for any hesitation or uncertainty but failed to find any. 

You nodded your head ever so slightly. 

“Words, kochanie.” Zemo ordered.

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” Zemo’s mouth turned up at the corners. You felt your stomach flutter at the praise.

Zemo kissed you again. His large hands held either side of your neck as he guided you deeper into his room. 

You took one of the man’s hands and dragged it down your side, ushering it towards the inner of your legs. 

“Does my little bird want to be touched?” Zemo’s voice was low as he spoke into the kiss. 

You bit down on his lip and urged his hand closer. 

Zemo chuckled at your response. 

“Use your words.” He instructed you. 

You parted from the man when you realised just how close the bed was. You sat down and pushed yourself upwards so that Zemo would have to follow to continue kissing you. He recognised the play. 

“I told you to use your words.” Zemo tutted as he remained stood at the bottom of the bed. You felt him wrap his hand around your ankle before tugging you back down to him. 

You gasped at the sudden action, staring up at the man with lust blown eyes.

Zemo knelt down at the end of the bed. His hand moved up your ankle and began to push up your pyjama leg up. His lips pressed against your ankle, nipping and licking your skin as he worked his way up your calf. 

When he reached your thigh and could go no higher, you helped him by removing your pyjama bottoms. You suddenly felt very exposed in just a tank top and your panties. 

“Such a good girl.” Zemo smirked at your hurry to strip for him. 

Zemo held your thigh with his hand, he dragged his tongue along the inside of it, biting your skin softly but didn’t venture too close to your core. He could sense just how desperate you were for him as your legs began to slightly shake with want. But he wanted you to beg...

You reached down and buried a hand in his thick, styled hair. He only smirked and glanced up at you through his eyebrows as you tried to bring him closer to you. 

Zemo hooked his fingers around your panties and pulled them down, freeing your hot sex to him. 

Zemo sent you a dark smile just before he pressed his tongue against you. The smell of you was too much to resist, he had to taste you. You inhaled sharply as he buried himself between your legs. His tongue teased your clit as his forefinger began to circle your entrance.

“So wet for me.” Zemo murmured. 

His finger pressed inside of you and you arched your back, desperate for more. 

“It’s been a while, mały ptaszku?” Zemo was watching your every reaction as he pumped his finger in and out of you. “For me too.” He confessed. 

His tongue found your sensitive bud again and applied more pressure, causing your grip on the man’s hair to turn even tighter. Zemo groaned at your tugging. His eyes lulling back as his boxers became very tight around his member. 

You could feel your walls tensing as he entered a second finger inside you. Your stomach twisted with your approaching climax. 

“I’m gonna...” You barely managed to breathe out two words out.

“Sing for me, mały ptaszku.” Zemo commanded, his eyes glued to you as he watched you come undone around his fingers. 

Zemo retracted his hand as he allowed you a moment to recover. He wiped the slick wetness from his chin as he regained his stance. 

You leant forward and took hold of the man’s shirt, tugging him towards you. Zemo teeth scraped against your lips as he kissed you fiercely. You craved for him to be inside of you and he craved the same. Watching you cum for him only made him ache with want and need. 

“Zemo...” You used his name for the first time that night, “Please...” 

Zemo couldn’t resist your pleads. 

He tore his pyjama shirt off and stripped of his bottoms, revealing his thick member. 

You reached forward, taking hold of him to feel his impressive size. His tip dripped with precum and the groan that rumbled from his throat at your touch only made you want him more. 

Zemo placed his hands under your arms and tossed you higher up on the bed. You exhaled a shaky breath at the dominant action. He climbed on top of you, parting your legs with his knee. 

“I feel I need to remind you that it has been a very long time since I have been with a beautiful woman such as yourself so I shall try my best to hold back.” Zemo was honest as he aligned his tip to your entrance. 

He slid himself up between your folds spreading your wetness on his head, you felt your convulse at the feeling of his hard cock on your throbbing clit. 

Zemo’s jaw clenched tightly as he finally pressed himself into you, his eyes closed as he relished the feeling. 

You rocked your hips against his as he filled you completely. 

Zemo remained still a moment as he just you fully adjust before he started to move inside of you. 

His hand found your throat as he began to pick up his pace. 

Your nails dug deep into his skin as he squeezed your neck lightly. 

Zemo thrusts became deeper, harder and with every stroke, you felt that sweet spot ache inside you. 

Zemo began to murmur in Sokovian under his breath as he fucked you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your body begging him to fuck you harder. Zemo was happy to comply. 

He thrusted deep within you. Sweat was building on his forehead and his skin felt like fire against your own. 

You clawed at the hand that was wrapped around your neck. Longing for more pressure. 

Zemo eyes rolled back for a moment as he felt your walls begin to tighten around him. 

“Fuck... (Y/n)...” The sound of your name on his lips sent a wave of electricity through your body. 

Zemo released your neck to grab hold of the  headboard behind you. His knuckles turning white as he fucked you faster. 

One of your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, clinging onto him tightly and Zemo took the chance to sink his teeth into your forearm. You winced at the delicious pain and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from cursing. 

As your second climax suddenly engulfed you, your legs tensed around the baron. The feeling of you pulsing around him was enough to bring forward his own finish. He cursed in his native tongue as he filled you with his seed. 

Zemo dropped his hand from the headboard as he tried to support his weight above you. 

His hot breath danced across your face as he panted above you. 

Zemo removed himself from you and fell beside you. 

You brought your arm up and ran your fingers over the indented teeth marks in your skin. 

“You could’ve done that somewhere less visible.” You scolded the man. 

Zemo weakly smiled at you as he tried to recover. 

“I apologise.” He said through his heavy breathes. 

You reached over the side of the bed and scooped up the baron’s silk pyjama shirt. You wrapped it around you as Zemo watched you with curiosity. 

You slid off the bed and went over to the decanter by the couch in Zemo's room. You poured yourself a glass of scotch and a glass for Zemo before returning to his side. 

“This never happened.” You held out the glass to the man. He took it carefully before clinking the glass against your own. 

“What the soldiers don’t know won’t hurt them.” Zemo was referring to Sam and Bucky. “Doesn’t mean it can’t happen again, no?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” You straddled the man, downing your drink. 

Zemo placed his hands on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. 

“What does mały ptaszku mean?” You suddenly recalled the name Zemo had kept calling you now that your mind wasn’t clouded from lust. 

“Little bird.” Zemo smirked. 

AN: Hoped you enjoyed ;)

Tags 

@montypythonsholysnail @chipster-21 @daniquehavinga @noavengers @and-claudia @moonstuffsteve​ @thanoshadtosnaptwiceforyou​ @the-reas0n-is-y0u​ @xaanyhs @soccer-100000​

#Zemo x reader #zemo imagines #Helmut Zemo x reader #Helmut Zemo imagines #Helmut Zemo #baron zemo #baron zemo imagines #baron zemo x reader #Daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl #Daniel bruhl imagines #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier imagines #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #imagine #imagines #reader insert

[bensolosbluesaber]

Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #zemo fic #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #spoilers #soft zemo #self insert fic #zemo x you #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo x you #zemo x reader fic #daniel brühl

[neeuqiakeht]

Bucky: Fuck, i can’t move. Y/N fell asleep on top of me

Zemo: Just push them off?

Bucky: How DARE you suggest such a thing

#incorrect self insert quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #baron helmut zemo #bucky barnes #y/n #bucky x reader

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: Assembly Required

Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

The Missing Title

Summary: Enlisted to help a friend with a crisis you once specialized in, you find yourself in a foreign country getting ready for a mission in which the details you're unaware of. Reunited with a good friend, you follow his unhinged partner as you all prepare to stop more harm from being released onto the world.

Words: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, Illegal Activities, Terrorists, Politics, Bombs, Assassinations, Criminals, Secrets,

A/N: So I watched the series this summer, and while I hadn't anticipated to get hooked onto anything, a surprise appearance from Zemo had me falling in love with his character and now I'm writing this series and it'll just evolve forward into a story I've been daydreaming up these past few months. Also thank you to @imamotherfuckingstar-lord for hyping me up and encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone with the future topics of this story.

“Whatever, we just need to get inside,” Bucky dismisses Sam’s introduction to you. Truly, it’s a reintroduction, since you’d met him once or twice before, even if it was really only in passing.

From all the stories you’ve heard, you’re sure his attention was elsewhere, so you aren’t too dissuade by his stiff attitude. Sam offers you an annoyed glance in hopes that you, too, are either amused or off-put by the ex-assassin’s dour aura. With an alacrity you'd rarely seen in the past few years, his partner opens the auto shop's door and heads inside.

"What're you talking about, you wanna break Zemo outta jail?" Sam asks the man, clearly more perturbed by the incurring situation you'd stumbled into upon your good friend, Torres’, request. "Where the hell are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?" Following both the men with the little light their flashlights emit, you listen, unsure what exactly the job Joaquin sent you to help out on entails.

"We have no leads, no moves, nothing-" Bucky answers, but Sam cuts him off.

"-Except the one I just called in, yeah. What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars," Sam argues. Rounding the shelves of oil, dirtied gloves, tools, and mechanical parts, you try and watch your step. Albeit the darkness makes it harder than necessary to find your way without stumbling. Burner phone dug out of your pocket, you shine its faint light around your surroundings.

"And we also have eight super soldiers that are loose," Bucky reasons, his light casting downward as Sam shines it on him stepping over a rig. Despite not knowing James well, you know most people call him 'Bucky', and you know it's probably best not to interfere with the two men considering you're aware of Sam's indulgence when it comes to arguing. Hell, him and Joaquin could bicker for the rest of time. The thought elicits an amused eye roll on your behalf.

"Look, Zemo's gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours, no offense," Sam rebuttals, following suit as he steps over the rig. Suddenly his light is held still and there's a loud click before overhead lights come on all around you guys, lighting up what you can now see is a garage. Granted, the outside did have a sign indicating it was an auto-shop, you never know if it’s just a cover.

"Offense," Bucky comments, laying his flashlight aside on top one of the movable shelving carts. "Super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code." Lips parting in thought, you're about to speak up when Sam beats you to it.

"Yeah, and I've been on the wrong side of that code, Buck, and so have you. He blew up the UN, he killed King T'chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that?" Eyeing his partner with a ludicrous look in his eyes, he quickly finishes his train of thought. "You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It's a rhetorical question- they didn't. I know why this matters to you, but come on, it's pushing you off the deep end."

Despite your abhorrence for bickering, there was admittedly not much you could contribute to the conversation. Though the name ‘Zemo’ sounds familiar, you can’t pinpoint its origin. Tucking your burner phone into your back pocket, you place your hands on your hips in waiting. A big breath puffs out your cheeks as you pray they come to some sort of conclusion sooner than later.

"Sam, we don't know how they're gettin' the serum. We don't even know how many of them there are. Look, let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?" Though the topic is concerning, Bucky’s phrasing and search of consent elicit an amused smile.

"What did you do?" Sam asks accusingly, like the man’s already committed some sort of crime.

"I didn't do anything. The weakest point in a system isn't the software, or the hardware, it's the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it's nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond-“ Bucky starts to explain.

“-So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?" Sam questions.

"-Who knows? There could be many reasons. But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated with all those bodies flying around left and right, it wouldn't be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage." With his thorough knowledge of the protocols, it’s clear Bucky has a plan.

"I don't like how casual you're bein' about this. This is unnatural. Are you... and- where are we, man?!" Sam comes back to reality, demanding an answer as hypotheticals really won’t do much for whatever super soldier problem is going on. In the distance the metallic sound of a hinge squeaking and a click of a lock signals a door’s been opened.

Eyes flitting to its source, the three of you watch in anticipation as a blurry figure approaches, its shadow cast upon the hanging plastic curtains of the auto shop. Lifting a section of said curtain, a police officer or guard of some sort enters. Considering the lack of people around, you assume he’s here to arrest you all for trespassing. Vision shifting to the men in hopes they have a better plan than you, the two of them surprisingly don’t move.

“WHOA, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa- what’re you doin’ here?!” Sam yells, clearly upset by the man’s presence.

“No, listen. Look, I didn't wanna tell you cause I knew you wouldn't let this happen. Okay?" Bucky says calmly, a confusing juxtaposition for you, to say the least.

"What did you do?!" Sam turns his attention to Bucky.

“Nothing, according to him,” you quip. Gears turning within your mind, you’re starting to wonder if this is that ‘Zemo’ character they were just talking about. The former Winter Soldier aims a glare at you momentarily before refocusing on Sam.

“We need him,” Bucky asserts.

"You're going back to prison!" Sam declares, focus and pointer finger now targeting the dressed up guard.

"If I may,” the man speaks, lifting a finger to weigh in the conversation.

"No!" Both Sam and Bucky simultaneously yell, their similarity amusing if it weren’t a serious situation. If this is that ‘Zemo’ guy they were talking about who’s in prison… then clearly they’re in trouble.

"Apologies,” the mystery man’s accented voice elicits your attention which shifts over to him. Eyeing him up and down, you feel like he looks familiar in a strange way, but your memory is failing you in this moment. As his eyes turn in your direction, yours dart back to the two men closest to you.

"When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me. I'm asking you to do it again,” Bucky’s words elicit slight paranoia and anger within you. Torres didn’t mention the help you’d be giving was illegal. While you’d technically broken the law before, it’s not something you were ever hoping to do again. If something goes wrong… you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to get out of this, and going to jail is not an option. Hopefully Torres could work something out if worse comes to worst.

"I really think I'm invaluable,” mystery man speaks up again. While you’re distracted by the notion of mentally planning next steps, the comment elicits a mildly amused smirk from you.

"Shut up,” Sam commands the guard-dressed man. He spares a glance in your direction, tacitly seeking affirmation, which he’s granted. “Okay. If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission.” Sam directs the latter of his sentence toward the accented man, to which he subtly shrugs.

"Fair,” he comments, holding the black cap between his hands in front of him. It reads ‘JUSTIZ’ in white big bold capital letters across the front.

"Okay, Zemo. Where do we start?" Sam inquires, handing the reins--temporarily, knowing Sam--over to the man in uniform.

“Woah, woah! He’s the guy? The one you were talking about- the UN Bomber?!” You exclaim, hands thrown out in front of you as you gauge the two familiar men.

Sam sighs, running a hand over his face. “Why do you think we made such a big deal out of it?”

“The one and only,” Zemo—as you now know—responds all too calmly for your preference. Though what were you expecting, really? The man who supposedly (if you remember correctly) broke up the Avengers, according to the news.

“Correction: you made a big deal,” Bucky retorts, a disgruntled look sent in Sam’s direction.

“Nevertheless, first I need to grab a few items,” Zemo states, turning and walking back behind the plastic curtain in the direction he’d come from. Though the two man-children behind you begin to bicker again, you follow the criminal behind the curtain. This attracts their attention as they follow, intent on watching Zemo and making sure he doesn’t escape.

Opposite where he’d come in there’s another door. Pushing it open, you walk through; a few feet ahead Zemo confidently walks toward a black sedan-style car that looks like something out of an old Hollywood movie. “Woah,” you whisper, taking in all the little details of what’s clearly more a showroom than a garage.

“So our first move is grand theft auto?" Sam asks sarcastically, you assume based off his tone. Approaching a yellow-colored convertible car of the same antique classiness you slowly reach out and run your hand along the smooth metal, taking in the intricate detaling.

"These are mine. Collected by family over the generations,” Zemo informs, opening the trunk of the black car nearest the door you all had entered through. Though you can see him stashing equipment into a duffel bag in your peripheral vision, you follow Bucky and Sam suit as you marvel over the opulent vintage automobiles.

"I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum-" Zemo explains. Information cataloging in your mind, your heartrate accelerates slightly as your vision shifts between the men in hopes of gauging their mentality. As the known terrorist approaches the vehicle you'd just been examining, you feel yourself stiffen slightly. Surely if he'd wanted me dead he'd have killed me already, right? As he opens the right-side back door and rummages inside, it seems as though everyone's attention has returned to the one speaking. "-Because once it's out there, someone can create an army of people like the Avengers." Slow and deliberate with his word choice, you can tell that there may not be any secrets left unsaid. As the man's intense brown eyes shift over toward you, and then Bucky, your jaw clenches, and you swallow.

Uprighting himself, he continues. "I ended the Winter soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished." With this revelation, relief washes over you and your tension ebbs again. At least it seems, for now, that you're not on his list. Crossing your arms over your chest, you refocus on the information Zemo's relaying. "To do this we'll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes." While the terrorist walks off toward the other side of the garage, you turn and follow his figure.

"Join the party, we've already started," Sam comments, seemingly trying to piece together whatever plan Zemo is forming. Walking after him, you try to keep up considering the man seems to be taking lead.

"First stop is a woman named Selby--mid-level fence I still have a line on--from there, we climb," Zemo explains. While an eyebrow quirks in confusion at the term 'fence' you don't verbally question it. It's obvious whoever he's talking about is some kind of 'in' and while Joaquin hadn't taught you everything he knows, you can still follow along with enough context to understand what they're talking about.

--------

It'd been easy enough to get to the airport as it wasn't far, only about a twenty-minute ride in a taxi. While the men attempted to ascertain a location from Zemo, the criminal had been reluctant to indulge them, simply profiting a 'you'll know soon enough.' to keep them satisfied.

"So how was the flight here?" Sam inquires, finally turning his attention to you as the past half hour has been hectic. Sitting between Sam and Zemo, you try not to let the awkwardness of the whole situation get to you. Up front, an old man drives the taxi while Bucky had insisted on the passenger's seat. The ex-Winter Soldier stares out the windshield, yet something tells you he's eavesdropping, which you wouldn't put past anyone in this vehicle, honestly.

"It was fine. Short enough, though the constant 'we're here, now we're here, no, we're here- was somewhat annoying. Like, I just kept having to reroute and figure out how the hell I was gonna get to you when you guys couldn't keep still for even a second!" This elicits a laugh from your friend on the left, and you can't help but smile for the first time since you'd arrived.

"Kind of hard to do when you've got an agent on your ass," Sam comments, an amused smile on his lips as he leaves room for you to continue.

"Oh God, who is it this time?" Palming your face, you know that this mission is dangerous, yet you haven't been involved in this world for a while, and considering the subject matter, it's rather crucial you help them out.

"The new shield," Sam explains. He gives you a tight-lipped disapproving smile, nodding in understandance of your reaction. Eyebrows raised and lips parting in shock, you shouldn't be surprised, yet you are.

"That's why Joaquin warned me," a hum escapes your lips, "makes sense. Can't say I'm a fan, granted I don't know him."

"You don't need to know him to know he's doing something despicable," Bucky comments from the front, not bothering to even spare a glance in anyone's direction.

"Hey now-" Sam goes to start something, yet you interrupt him with a dissatisfied noise.

"So we know that whoever their supplier is, they've gotta have a lab. A professional one, one big enough to be producing the-" you glance at the driver in the rearview mirror, "stuff, and once we know where we're going I can start looking into a lead. Sound good?"

The distraction seemed to work for now as both your acquaintances respond in some form. Bucky nods up front, the two of you momentarily making eye contact in the side mirror.

"Yeah," Sam answers, arms crossing over his chest as he sits back in the seat. Luckily, the airport is already approaching in the distance.

Upon arrival all the doors are thrown open and the men evacuate the vehicle. Zemo lingers at the door as he holds it open. Unaware of the implication, you instinctively slide out on your left, following your old friend, Sam. "How much do we owe him?" You ask. As Bucky begins speaking with the driver and Sam dismisses you with a wave of his hand, you follow Zemo as he walks toward the airport's runway.

The infamous 'Avengers' follow you two suit, the both of them adorned with sunglasses, even if it's not the brightest out today. Readjusting your duffel bag on your shoulder, you aren't entirely sure what Zemo's plan is here.

"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam asks incredulously, and it's then that you realize the private jet the group of you are approaching is for you. Steps falling behind, your lips part in shock and surprise. Bucky notices your change in pace and offers a look back in your direction, a quirked brow. Small legs quickening their pace once again to catch up to the tall men, you contain your awe.

"I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country," Zemo answers. Another revelation, another piece of information you hadn't known and hadn't anticipated. While the man may be an international terrorist and criminal, you hadn't paid the case too much attention as it was going on considering you were going through your own set of problems within your work field during that time.

"A Baron?" You echo Zemo's answer as you outwardly process this information. Though you're by no means stupid, the title is something you're not the most familiar with.

"Yes, the thirteenth, to be exact," Zemo responds, offering a look back in your direction before returning his attention to the man awaiting your group at the steps of the private jet. The puzzle only grows as Zemo greets the older gentleman in a language you don't understand. With extended arms, the well-dressed gentleman takes the Baron into his arms. Kisses placed on either cheek, you find the custom familiar. Smiles on both the men's faces, you feel taken aback. Mind reeling, you only find your curiosity toward this criminal growing. "Please," Zemo encourages you all to follow him up the steps.

Sam mumbles something to the older gentleman, and Bucky doesn't acknowledge him as he gestures with his hand for you to go up first. The older gentleman begins to take your bag off your shoulder, but your hand is quick to find its way atop his. "It's okay, I've got it. Thank you."

"Are you sure, Miss?" The elderly man asks in English. With a nod, he releases the strap of your bag and offers a polite smile. Following Sam up the steps, the other two men follow suit.

With help from the taller men to stuff your bag in one of the compartments toward the back of the jet, you find the only open seat is the one across from Zemo. It shouldn't be a surprise, despite Sam and Bucky's marriage-like bickering relationship, they're friends, teammates, and are more fond of one another than you'd guess they are of Zemo.

Before you know it, the jet is taking off and you're in the air for the second time today. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced," the Baron extends a hand in your direction, eyes roaming your face as you do the same, taking one another in.

With a quick look toward Sam, you're sure the worry in your eyes shows. Just as the Baron is about to sit back and retract his hand, you envelop his hand with your own, much smaller one. A firm shake between you two, you aren't sure what Zemo will make of your past, but surely he'll find out at some point.

"It's fine," Sam says your name, catching your attention. Even if the reassurance is small, you trust him.

With a divulgence of your full name, you offer Zemo a polite smile. "I take it you and Sam are friends? Former partners, I assume?" he questions, his head tilting slightly as he gauges both your, and Sam's reaction. The latter coughs, suddenly turning his attention out the window. You take that as your cue to answer.

"We've worked together once or twice, but... really yes, we're more friends than anything. One of his coworkers and friends is like a brother to me."

"Apologies if that's a little warm, the fridge is out-" the elderly man from earlier hands Zemo a glass of champagne, "-but I will see if there is some good food in the galley," he informs the Baron. From his attire, you've realized in the short time between boarding and taking off that the man is Zemo's butler.

Accepting the flute, the Baron responds in a language that sounds akin to Russian, you'd guess. The butler laughs, "Oh, it's good to have you back, Sir." Although you're not sure why, a small smile graces your features as you watch the butler turn to leave, though he suddenly turns back. "Can I get you anything, Miss?"

With a look between the butler and Zemo, who simply repeats his earlier indulgence of 'please', you shake your head, only to furrow your brows, rethinking. "Actually, water maybe, if you can, please?"

"Of course, Miss." The butler offers a polite smile and nod before turning to retreat into the galley toward the front.

"A friend of yours?" You question, turning back to face Zemo. Swallowing the sip of champagne he'd taken, he nods.

"Something like that," he responds with a look you can only attribute to playfulness in his eyes. "Can I ask how you've wound up on this exploit alongside us?"

Eyes shifting toward the windows beside your seats, you feel your heart beating a little faster under his gaze Zemo stares intently at you. Unwavering attention, he simply sips his drink as he waits for an answer.

"I, um... used to work for the CIA in their R and D department," you admit, swallowing the thick feeling in your throat as you contemplate explaining the whole truth.

"Which is how you met Torres," Sam comments with a smile, swiveling in his chair as he engages in the conversation.

"Yeah," you respond, meeting Sam's gaze. "though none of us knew what they were doing at first, we were just hired as scientists to test and develop certain biological elements. Our friend--" you turn your attention back to Zemo, hoping to clarify, "--Joaquin, the one who's like a brother to me, he wasn't a scientist, but we came into contact a few times and considering we grew up together we ended up in similar fields: the government."

"And how you met Sam," Zemo assumes, to an exactly correct truth.

"Yes, eventually."

"So you worked in Eugenics?" Zemo dares to ask, blatantly. Though you hadn't been expecting the boldness, you aren't surprised by the question. It was reasonable.

"In some ways... yes, though we thought at the time we were only doing it for the benefit of the people's health. Eradicating diseases, testing possible solutions and seeing how they affected the gene code," you explain. "Things... changed, toward the end, toward the snap..." trailing off, it's clear to everyone that there's a story there.

Not interested in divulging your secrets and past traumas, you don't indulge the following silence. While Sam may know a few select details of what occurred in the R and D department, he doesn't know the whole truth of what happened to your unit. Only what their cover-up was.

"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell," Zemo comments, his thoughts obviously having drifted from the conversation. "Oh, that's right- you do." Turning his attention to Sam, he offers him a grimace along with false cheers, sipping his warm champagne.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?" Sam pressures, swiftly changing topics as he doesn't wish to go down memory lane, and certainly doesn't want to entertain anymore thought of your previous life, nor the onslaught of questions, ethics, and morals he knows Zemo would cave to if he had you alone.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes with a wave of his hand before flipping another page in the small book he'd produced from his jacket a few moments ago. "I was just fascinated by this," the Baron comments. Eyeing the front of the book, you don't speak German, however, you can recognize it. 'Das Offene Nein In Der Liebe' reads the title, though you don't recognize any words besides 'nein', meaning 'no', and 'der' which you're pretty sure means 'the'. Curious as to why Zemo is suddenly avoiding Sam's questioning under the guise of reading, your eyebrows furrow.

"I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?" Zemo asks. In a sudden movement that makes you yelp and jump, Bucky has his gloved hand wrapped around Zemo's throat. Wide-eyed, you stare in shock and fear as you aren't sure what to do.

"If you touch that again, I'll kill you," the ex-Winter Soldier whispers, eyes filled with anger as he threatens the Baron. The thief quickly nods and Bucky retracts his hand, sitting back in his seat. Letting a big breath slowly filter through your lips, you try not to let the situation unsettle you. After all, from the fleeting moments you've been acquainted, Bucky's always been a wild card.

"I'm sorry," Zemo apologizes again, to your surprise. While you don't know either of the two men well, you hadn't heard them to be quite as... dramatic, as they've been the last hour. Still gathering yourself, you try not to meet anyone's gaze as your eyes travel to the flute Zemo still somehow holds in his grip. "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."

Your association with the man brought up, you let your gaze flit over to him, Bucky's face somewhat stoic on the outside, yet the faint view of his eyes from your position lets you see that Zemo's not wrong.

"Don't push it," the man warns, and you can't help but offer Bucky a sympathetic smile. While you don't know too much of his story or personal life, you've heard about how he's been through more than anyone could ever imagine.

"I've seen that book-" Sam speaks up, and you have no doubt he's trying to lessen the tension between the four of you. "It was Steve's when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man- he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?" Sam asks, turning the conversation into something more causerie.

"I like Fortie's music, so..." Bucky responds, finally shifting his attention back to Sam as opposed to staring out the window like he'd been doing for most of the conversation since take off.

"You didn't like it?" Sam asks, obviously offended in some way. Clearly his taste seems to differ from Bucky. Steve, though, was a different man. You hadn't known him personally, though you've heard all the stories everyone did growing up and during the time he was alive.

"Fortie's music is great, so- can't say I blame you," you agree, taking Bucky's side. Is it really taking sides if you're just stating your opinion, though? Sam clearly seems to think contrarily as he gives you a glare before turning his pressuring and quizzical look on Bucky.

"I liked it," Bucky states.

"It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive," Zemo pipes up, gesticulating with his hands to emphasize, "it captures the African-American experience." While you're personally not familiar with whatever movie, song, book, or album they're talking about, you can't help but find yourself biting back a smile. Sam's concerned look only adds to your amusement as he shifts his attention back and forth between the two men.

"He's outta line, but he's right. It's great! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye," Sam argues, finally turning an eye on you in question, "right?"

"I like Marvin Gaye," Bucky agrees.

"I... can't say I know Marvin Gaye," you admit embarassedly as your eyes turn toward your lap for a moment.

"Steve adored Marvin Gaye. Wait- what do you mean you don't know Marvin Gaye?! Everybody knows Marvin Gaye!" Sam argues, starting to go off about how Joaquin had to have shown you and how he'll correct that, that is, until Zemo speaks up again.

"You must've really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him--"

"You met him?" The words leave your mouth before you cringe, palm coming up to your face as you remember. You hadn't been involved, but you'd seen the news. You knew what happened with Zemo. "Sorry! Sorry, I-" No one addresses your misstep, as you're sure they all know, or suspect, that it wasn't really your personal business anyways, even if the entire world knew what happened to some degree or another.

"The danger with people like him--America's super soldiers--is that we put them on pedestals," Zemo continues, reciting his line of thought on the subject as he ignores what you'd said, thankfully, and blows right past it.

"Watch your step, Zemo," Sam warns, obviously defensive over one of his closest friends.

"They become symbols, icons... and then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die, movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right?" Dark eyes turning on Bucky, Zemo clearly is bringing up what happened, what? Almost... nine, ten years ago? Silently counting on your fingers in your seat, you conclude: nine years. It's been nine years since Ultron rose and attempted to overthrow the world. Nines years since the Battle of Sokovia happened. Yes, it's all coming back now.

Zemo. Baron Zemo, royalty of Sokovia, right? There'd been something in the papers, something about how his family had tragically died and that was the reason he blew up the United Nations headquarters. That's what he's talking about. Tuning back in to the conversation, you follow his line of thought.

"As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?" Zemo shakes his head, and you can't help but do the same. "That is why we're going to Madripoor."

"What's up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it's Skull Island," Sam interjects, Zemo must have said something about it when you were zoned out.

"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary in the 1800s," Bucky explains.

"It's kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves." The Baron turns his attention on Bucky, "James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone..." with no outward reaction, he turns to you and then Sam. "You two will have a part to play as well."

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfaws reader insert #the missing title series #my writing #the missing title #tmt #marvel reader insert #might evolve into bucky barnes x reader #spoilers though

[deceitfuldevil]

Savior

Baron Helmut Zemo X Reader

Summary: You were only on this mission because you owed a debt to an old friend because of your past. But what if you miss your past? No matter how hard you tried this criminal kept saving you, swooning over you. You wanted to disregard him at first, keep your disate for Zemo. But when he showed you his kindness and saved your life on more than one occasion, maybe this hero-life wasn’t worth following. When he held out his hand. . . was it worth taking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugging, fighting, falling for a criminal <3

Word Count: 1.8K

Why you agreed to help Sam with this little mission he had going on was beyond you, but he knew your past and you owed him a debt. Working with Bucky helped you believe this mission was respectable since he’d been pardoned, but when you were listening to him explain a ‘hypothetical’ in an unknown auto repair garage. . . things got leery.

You just about blew your top at Sam when you saw world-class criminal mastermind Helmut Zemo walk in.

“What the fuck is this Sam? You said this was a good mission, not breaking any bylaws!” you exclaimed, going for the dagger strapped to your thigh.

“Hey hey hey! You think I would’ve brought you along if I had any idea this was going to happen?” Sam started “and you, you're going back to prison!” he shouted at Zemo and started to walk towards him, but Bucky held out his arm and halted him.

“He can help us.” Bucky said simply, like it was supposed to make the escaped convict in front of you any less of a threat. Given your history with Sam and the avengers you had a premeditated distaste for Zemo, one he would try to disband.

The whole plane ride you could feel Zemo’s lingering eyes on you, but every time you would shift uncomfortably in your seat he'd break his gaze. Like he was trying to respect you. But suspicions that he had good intentions for you went out the door when you were about to land in Madripoor and he revealed what everyone’s secret cover would have to be. Sam thought he got the short end of the stick when Zemo informed him of his ‘Smiling Tiger’ cover, that was until Zemo pulled out a skimpy little purple dress and handed it to you.

“And what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” you asked expectantly.

“Put it on, your beauty does not hold the likeliness of any well-known felons. So you will have to play the part of a high class call girl, think pretty woman.” Zemo explained, tossing a trashy pair of heels your way.

“Oh there is no way in hell that-” you started, but Zemo cut you off stepping forward giving you merely a few inches of personal space. “Or you can stay back, if you’d prefer.” he said simply, making you curse as you turned around and made your way to the bathroom on board to change.

The business Zemo had gone over, moderately well. The bright side was you weren’t dead and you found an ally, Sharon. The downside was that Zemo’s hands were all over you when Zemo posed his false offer to Shelby.

“In exchange I’ll give you him, along with the code words to control him of course. He’ll do any and everything you ask of him.” Zemo said, sitting back down on the couch next to you.

“And what about this little gem you’ve got here? If I double whatever you paid for her can we roll her into the deal?” Selby asked with a cynical grin.

“I’m afraid she’s not for sale.” Zemo said, placing his hand on your thigh giving it a gentle but noticeable squeeze. You wanted to swat his hand away and scold him for handling you so boldly, but you knew given the situation you were in that you couldn’t do that. Well, that and the fact that his strong hand on your thigh sent an all too familiar buzz to your core. But you wouldn’t admit that to yourself quite yet.

Later on at Sharon’s party Zemo was out on the dance floor enjoying his freedom as much as possible before he inevitably was locked back up, still keeping a watchful gaze on you. You had changed for the party, something less flashy from Sharon’s closet that didn’t make you look like a hooker. It fit your personality better and only made you more irresistible in his eyes, hence his watchful gaze. With his keen eyes Zemo noticed a man stalking you, when he tried to get a closer look he saw the man roofie your drink and walk away. Zemo overstepped your boundaries and immediately took your drink away, tossing it over his shoulder.

You scolded Zemo and asked what the hell was his problem, he tried to tell you what he saw but you didn’t believe him. You just rolled your eyes and left the party. But you started to wonder if he was really lying when on your way back to Sharon’s place, a man who you’d seen around the club pushed you up against a wall and started to feel you up.

Of course you fought back and the perpetrator was shocked and angry, asking why you weren’t passed out by now, but before you could get another punch in he was shot. You looked to your left and saw Zemo, smoking gun in hand.

“Now do you believe me?” He asked.

“Still doesn’t mean I trust you.” You said bitterly, continuing your way back to Sharon’s apartment.

You were on and off sleeping throughout the night, thoughts of why Zemo saved you and if he was to be trusted ran rampant in your mind. Even worse, your own hand traced over where his was earlier on your thigh, almost missing the feeling.

You got enough rest to suffice to for the day, you rolled out of bed and made your way to the kitchen; dying for a cup of cof-

“Good morning dragosté, I made some coffee since Sharon had quite the collection. Would you like some?” Zemo offered kindly, nearly showing a softer side to him now that Sam and Bucky weren’t around.

You were too tired to address his borderline flirtatious comment and agreed to a cup of coffee, turns out you would be needing it for the events of later that day. Sam planned to find and speak with Dr. Negal, which unsurprisingly turned into a shitshow. You and Sharon stayed on the outside fighting off bounty hunters while Sam, Bucky, and Zemo confronted Dr. Negal inside his lab. You quite weren’t sure exactly what happened in there, but you saw Sharon run inside and heard lots of shouting. Right as you were about to walk in as well an explosion went off and sent you flying backwards into an adjacent shipping container, knocking you out completely.

The next thing you knew you were being carried to god knows where, at first you assumed some bounty hunter picked you up when you opened your eyes and saw a face covered by a purple mask. But when you were laid gently in the back of some fancy car, you opened your eyes again and saw your savior. Pulling off his mask was none other than Zemo, who brought his hand up to your face gently caressing it. “You’ll be alright, dragosté.” he said sweetly before you faded out of consciousness again.

This time when you awoke you were on Zemo’s private plane again, this time en route to an old property of his in Riga. You pushed yourself out of the bed in the back of the plane despite your pounding headache, walking out into the main floor of the plane to find Zemo, Sam, and Bucky all in conversation.

“Y/n,” Sam said, standing up “You’re alright.” he said gratefully.

“Yeah I am uh. . .” you trailed off, meeting Zemo’s gaze. “Thank you” you said quietly, nodding your head at Zemo before heading to bed to lay back down. You arrived in Riga a few hours later, and with your head and body still scrambled from the explosion you stayed back from any intel operations the rest of the boys went on. But Zemo made you a more than comfortable recuperating area in his bedroom, where you rested for what felt like days.

You came out of the little setup Zrmo had made for you when you heard he’d been hurt. But there he was, just laying on the couch with a hot towel over his eyes nursing a cup of jasmine tea. He was hit in the head with a vibranium shield and was treating it like a bad cold. He sat up upon noticing your presence in the room.

“How are you feeling dragosté?” he asked, setting his compress aside.

“I think I should be asking you the same thing.” you joked back, earning a look from Sam. But he didn’t have time to address it before John Walker barged in. “Alright, you had your chance. Now I’m ordering you to hand him over to us.” he demanded. Zemo stood up and made his way to his kitchen counter, now pouring himself a drink for the situation at hand.

You intently followed John’s antics as you made your way over to where Zemo was, only stepping closer to him when the Dora Maljie arrived. When Zemo made his way to the bathroom, he pulled you alongside him. You heard the muffled sounds of fighting beyond the bathroom doors and looked back to Zemo who was holding out his hand as he stood above a now uncovered sewer grate.  You knew what would be the right choice, but then again maybe you were sick of batting for the good guys. You decided to go with Zemo, crawling down that tunnel and running with him despite any lack of a plan or structure. You’d never felt more free in your life, and once you were out of the sewers and in a secure location Zemo smiled at you, he was about to thank you.

However you wanted to thank him first in a different way, you grabbed the fur of his coat and pulled him down to meet your lips. You kissed him sweetly, feeling all the emotions you’d been pushing away flood to the surface as joy erupted from the deepest parts of you. Zemo kissed you back tenderly. When you pulled away your eyes stayed shut for a few more seconds, savoring the moment.

“I expected you to come with me, yes. But I must admit I didn’t expect that.” He said with a cheeky smile.

“Well there’s more where that came from, if you’ll take me with you wherever you go.” You said with a smile, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

“I promise, my dear little dragosté.” Zemo said, pulling you in for another kiss.

“You have got to tell me what that means.”

-

Dragosté - lover, darling, sweetheart.

A/N

Holy shit has it been a minute since I wrote for Zemo, I had a pretty intense obsession for him and his actor back in spring of 2021 so I’m surprised I only ever wrote the one fic. But that fic didn’t do too well so i can’t imagine this one will either with absolutely no Zemo content releasing from marvel as of lately. This fic really is mostly for my personal enjoyment seeing as I got the inspiration to write this when doing my yearly MCU rewatch, thanks to the falcon and the winter soldier that is. Anyways for those who did read this, thank you.

Much Love,

—Skyler

#marvel #au #cute #fan fic #fan fiction #fluff #love #mcu #reader insert #zemo x you #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #baron helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #Barron Helmut Zemo x reader #helmut x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #captain american civil war #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #sugar daddy zemo #zemo imagine #<3

[make-me-imagine]

Lost and Found - Part Two

12 Days of Christmas - Day Eight: Snowed In

((A Continuation of this Fic))

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader

Plot: Y/n and Zemo are reunited months after he fled during the events with the flagsmashers. Zemo is once again allowed to help the team with a new mission. But everything is halted when a snowstorm hits, trapping Y/n and Zemo alone together. Stuck together for who knows how long, the feelings forming between them come to a head.

Warnings: Brief mentions of death, nothing graphic.

Word Count: 3.8k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @resplendentlady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @bisexualdragongirl Requested Taglist: @sunnysidesidra

-

Checking the time, you let out a deep sigh. They would be back any moment, Sam, Bucky, and Zemo. You tried to convince yourself that you were anxious to see Zemo due to his knack of making things complicated, and/or escaping. But, you knew the real reason, the reason you were trying hard to ignore, was deeper, you wanted to see him again, and you hated it.

It had been about three months since you last saw him. He had slipped out unseen, when Ayo and Nomble had shown up to take him. Bucky had located him later on, and he was taken to The Raft to be imprisoned. And that was it, he was gone, never to be seen by you again. Or so you thought.

Recently, past Sokovian government and military officials had recently formed a secret group with various vigilantes, and semi-terrorists from around the world. They had begun targeting various European countries in various heists, as well as attacking them in ways to attempt to start multiple Civil Wars. They had begun to entreat upon U.S. territory when the three of you were brought in. But, none of you knew enough about these Sakovians to find them, or know what their next targets would be. You did know however, someone who might.

So a deal had been struck - though the deal you did not know the particulars of - so you could gain the help and information needed by Helmut Zemo. You had no idea he would be coming in person until a few days prior. So now, as you sat in your cabin in the snowy hillside outside of a small city in Ukraine, you paced around, waiting for them to return.

Your last interaction with Zemo ran through your head. It was just after your fight with the flag smashers, and run-in with Walker, and not too long before Ayo showed up to retrieve him. He had made you tea, and offered an ice pack for your injured hand, that he had softly taken into his own hands, after seeing your bruised and scraped knuckles. It was far too intimate for you to have not been affected by his actions. But you rejected his offers, and retreated into the next room, aware of his eyes watching you closely.

You had found yourself beginning to trust him, beginning to like him, after his kind behavior to you, and after the trouble he surely went through to find your locket for you after you lost it. You began to see the side of him that existed before the destruction of Sakovia. Before his anger and lust for revenge took control. But then, he ran out on all of you, escaped, and left you all to finish the fight without him.

You wanted to hate him for it, you were angry sure, but you could never bring yourself to hate. And once you found out from Bucky that he had intended to be killed, or imprisoned in the end, you felt your anger soften.

As you heard a car pull up outside, you spun around, your rapid thoughts dissolving as you felt your chest tighten and your heart begin beating rapidly. Standing in anticipation, you pushed down your emotions, making your face stoic and calm, and waited.

A few moments passed before you could hear them approaching the cabin. The door swung open, and Bucky came in, his face was plastered with a stoic look of annoyance. You could hear Zemo’s smooth voice from behind him as he was talking. He had just finished complimenting the choice of hideout as his eyes landed on you.

His sentence was cut off by his own surprise at seeing you. You saw the surprise turn to a mixture of amusement and delight as he smiled at you, taking a step into the cabin. “Y/n.” He spoke your name with a fondness that made your complicated feelings multiply. “I was not aware you would be joining us.”

You looked to Bucky with a questioning gaze, to which he answered with a shrug and almost bored voice, “I didn’t think it necessary to tell him.”

Glancing at Sam, you saw Sam shake his head a bit, which you were sure had some underlying meaning you did not want to explore at that moment. Looking back at Zemo, you caught his eyes glance down to the locket around your neck. You saw his lips twitch a bit as he seemed to repress a smile.

You stopped yourself from reaching up and touching the locket, and instead cleared your throat a bit, and spoke for the first time. “So, are you going to help us without running away this time?”

Zemo locked onto your eyes, and he could see the sense of disdain lingering in the memory of his escape. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he was now sure you took it at least a little personal. But in a way, this also made him feel a sense of gratification, as it meant that you must care at least a little about him, compared to how he found himself caring for you.

He bowed slightly with a soft smile, “I promise, I am here to help. Not to run. Nor to cause trouble.”

You stared at him a short moment longer before turning to Sam, “So where do we start?”

Sam looked at you and then to Bucky before clearing his throat. “Well, me and Bucky are going to go check out a man Zemo gave us info on, who might be the head of the organization. You’re gonna stay here with him.”

You looked incredulously at him, your mouth agape for a moment. “So what, am I just the babysitter?”

Sam held up his hands in defense. “Just for this okay? After we check out if Zemo’s information is good, then we can start to get these guys. It’s too risky for him to go with us right now, so he’s gotta stay back, and that means someone has got to stay with him.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, “Fine, but next time, you’re doing the babysitting. And you.” You pointed at Zemo, who looked at you with attention “If you so much as think of bolting on me, I will shoot you in the leg.”

Zemo smiled at you and raised his hands up. “Again, I have no intention to do so.”

Sam smirked a little as he and Bucky moved around to gather what they needed. Zemo, setting down his bag, caught your eye, and you saw, for only a second, what you could only describe as gratification. Turning away, you busied yourself to distract your thoughts, knowing that for the next few hours, you’d be alone with him again.

It wasn’t long until Sam and Bucky had left you and Zemo at the cabin. They told you they’d be gone only a few hours, but you knew those few hours would feel like an eternity.

You were determined to spend the time they were gone working, or getting information out of Zemo for the mission. This went well, but only for an hour, before he seemed to be growing restless. He was constantly watching you, or endeavoring to get you to have a conversation with him.

Finally, he began to walk around the cabin, before venturing to the small kitchen. Searching through the cupboards, you assumed he was searching for something to eat. Pulling out a small satchel of cookies from a drawer, he leaned against the cabinet and began to stare at you again.

Finally unable to ignore it any longer, you turned to him with a sigh. “Why do you insist on staring at me?”

He shrugged slightly, “Why do you insist on ignoring me?”

You let out a small scoff, “I am not ignoring you Zemo, I’m working.”

“So take a break.” He said casually as he walked over to you, motioning the small bag towards you, he quirked his brow. “Cookie?”

You sighed and shook your head before turning back to your files. Zemo stood by you and watched you for a few moments, before giving up and walking back over to the couch. You stared at the files and all of your notes for a few more minutes, before admitting that there was nothing else you could do until Sam and Bucky got back.

Standing up, you turned to look at him and he smiled softly at you. You looked at the cookies in his hands, and realized you were actually hungry. You let out a short breath. “There is some leftover stew in the fridge from yesterday, I’m going to reheat it, I assume you did not eat before you got here?”

You did not see the smile on Zemo’s face as he rose to follow you into the kitchen. “It was not offered, no.”

Opening the fridge, you took out a container holding the leftovers from the previous day. Zemo stood by the counter as he watched you.

A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “I see you have changed the chain of your locket.” You looked over at him briefly, and he smiled softly “Vibranium?”

You nodded your head lightly, “That way it wont fall off so easily.”

“Very clever indeed.” He smiled.

Finally feeling a little less aggravated and anxious, you glanced at him. “So, tell me. Did you really surrender and let Bucky and the Dora Milaje take you to the Raft?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“You could have stayed out, escaped, hidden. Voluntarily being captured, risking Bucky killing you. I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t expect it.”

He leaned forward a bit and smiled. “Maybe that is why I did it.”

You rose your brow with a look that conveyed your skepticism, and he almost laughed before you saw his face become more serious. “I deserve to be punished for the things I did out of anger and revenge. My family would be ashamed of the choices I made, and I should be too. I know that, everyone else knows that, so, I intend it to be followed through. Though, I do enjoy the idea of the occasional freedom that comes with being of use to yourself.”

Ignoring the latter part of his comments, you spoke again. “What was the deal they made anyways?”

Zemo shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea, it was not to benefit me.”

You let out a breath through your nose as you turned back to the stew, not hot from the stove. Making two bowls, you handed him one before returning to your desk, leaving Zemo to ponder your curiosity, as well as clear avoidance of being near him for too long.

Time seemed to go by slower and slower as the evening grew darker. Sam and Bucky had been gone longer than expected, and it had begun to snow, getting heavier and heavier with each passing moment. You stared out the window and the flurry of white, watching as the road began to disappear.

Wind whistled through the cracks in the windows, and you began to fear Sam and Bucky getting stuck somewhere. Grabbing your phone, you called them. You were relieved to learn they made it to a hotel about an hour away from the cabin just as the storm had blown in. But, you were distressed to find that they had no intention of returning that night, as the storm was expected to continue for a while. The roads would not be cleared until morning.

After hanging up the phone, Zemo sensed your change in demeanor. “I hope they are alright.” He spoke casually, while watching you closely.

Turning to look at him, you let out a sigh. “The storm is too strong, they won't be back until tomorrow.”

Zemo smiled softly as he outstretched his hands. “At least we have each other’s company to enjoy in the meantime.”

You stared at him for a moment, feeling your anxiety rise again, but more alarming, the butterflies in your stomach seemed to torment you as he stared at you. As the lights in the cabin flickered, you and Zemo were both temporarily distracted.

The howling of the storm outside became louder as you looked back out the window. The falling snow was laced with hale, as it clicked against the window pane. Fearing the power might not last through the storm, you began to make up a fire.

Zemo stared out the window and smiled to himself before looking back at you. “A good idea, I don’t think the power will stay on if the storm gets any worse.”

Saying this, he seemed to speak it into existence, as the power shut off only a moment later. There was a deafening silence between you for a moment before you spoke. “You just had to say something didn’t you.”

In the near darkness, he heard you sigh to yourself, and he smiled. A few moments passed before he saw the flame of a match light up your profile. Leaning forward, you set the fireplace alight, and the room was lit with a glowing orange light.

Zemo, walking across the room rubbed his hands together, “I don’t know about you, but this feels very cozy to me.”

You glanced at him, and though you did always find fireplaces and storms a pleasant comfort, you did not speak it out loud.

Now wrapped in your winter jacket, you sat on the plush rug near the fire, a blanket draped across your form. You could hear Zemo bustling around the kitchen, unsure of what he was doing. You were tempted to go find out, but before you could, he came wandering back towards you, a candle in one hand, and a mug in the other.

Handing it to you, you curiously took it, peering down into the cup. “Hot chocolate.”

You looked up at him in confusion. “I didn’t know there was any hot chocolate.”

“Well it was in a drawer, so let’s hope it is not too old.”

As he left back to the kitchen, you smelled the hot chocolate, unsure if you should trust it. But taking a small sip, you felt the hot liquid immediately comfort you, and the taste was familiar, and did not seem stale or old, so you decided it must be fine.

After a few moments, Zemo rejoined you with a hot chocolate of his own. Sitting down beside you, you noticed how close he sat, but said nothing, not wanting to instigate any cheeky comments on his part.

“This reminds me of cozy winters with my family in Sokovia.” He said softly as he stared into the fire. You were surprised he decided to talk of his family at all, and decided not to pry, allowing him to talk at his own leisure. “Did you enjoy the snow growing up?” He asked as he looked at you.

You nodded, “Of course. Though my mother hated it, I always stayed out too long, got sick a lot.” You smiled at the memory.

He smiled as well. “But they become some of the best memories, do they not?”

“Yes.” You answered softly, before looking back at him.

He saw you looking at him curiously, but waited for you to speak. You adjusted yourself a bit before talking. “When you took us to Latvia, you mentioned the monument to the people who died in Sokovia, how beautiful it was. You were right.”

Zemo’s brow quirked a bit in surprise. “You went to go see it? I did not mean to guilt you into such a trip.” He spoke softly, with light amusement in his words, though you could sense the more appreciative tone behind it.

“Not after. Before. I had gone not long after it had been built.”

Zemo was even more surprised by this. “You were not a member of the Avengers when Sokovia was destroyed…so why?”

You looked down at your coffee for a moment, and absent mindedly touched your locket, which he did not fail to notice. “I was a member of SHIELD when the attack on New York happened. And my parents died there. In some ways I blamed the Avengers for it, and myself for not being there to help them. And then Sokovia happened, and I remember feeling like I could have done something there too. So when they wanted to recruit me into the Avengers not long later, I agreed. I wanted to help stop events like what happened in New York and Sokovia from happening before they began. But…I failed in the end, when Thanos came.

Zemo had been watching you intensely as you spoke, feeling a newfound respect for you. He had been imprisoned when the events with Thanos took place. He could only imagine what you had been through. And additional curiosity. “You wanted to be a hero?”

You scoffed slightly. “No. I just wanted to stop people from dying when they didn’t have to. But, in the age we live in now, that is next to impossible it seems.”

Zemo nodded his head lightly. “I respect that you still wish to change the world, even if you believe it to be impossible.”

You smiled slightly at his comment. “I know I can’t apologize for them, but… I am sorry that you lost your family.”

He smiled softly at you, “Thank you.”

Zemo stared at you as you looked from him and back towards the fire, and he felt a warmth in his chest that he could not ignore. He had loved his family dearly, and never thought he could feel any semblance of a similar connection again. But as the years passed after their deaths, his rage faded, and then he met you. He thought it might be folly, a kind face in a world of anger and lies. But now he knew for sure that it was real, these feelings were real.

He knew it was more to wish for than he deserved. He was an imprisoned man, there could be no chance of a relationship. But whatever he could find in you, whether it was returned or not, would be worth almost as much as he had lost.

As a cold draft crossed the room, he saw you pull your jacket a bit tighter. Without much thought, he moved closer to you, adjusted his own blanket so it draped over you as well. You looked over at him with a quizzical look, and he smiled at you. “Don’t want you freezing to death now do we?”

You wanted to retaliate with a cross word or sarcastic comment, but were only able to provide a soft amused scoff and a roll of the eyes. You did not move away from him, did not push him away, and this was enough for him at that moment.

“I wonder if James and Sam are having a good time.” He muttered casually as he took a sip of his drink.

You let out a soft laugh as you thought about them. Stuck in a small hotel in a town they don’t know, no power and no luggage. “And here I thought I got the sour part of the deal.”

Zemo let out a sarcastic chuckle that made you smile. He saw this and smiled to himself. “You know what I really think?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “What?”

He leaned in a bit closer to you. “That you like me, more than you should, and you hate it.” His tone, though holding humor in it, also held a hint of earnestness that you could not but hear.

You were unsure of where the courage came from, or the will to say it, but looking at him fully, you shook your head lightly. “No, I don’t”

Zemo felt his heart pick up pace as he questioned you. “No you do not like me, or no you do not hate it.”

Your mouth held a faint smile, “The latter.”

Zemo held your gaze for a moment as a soft pleasant smile sat on his face, “Well. Consider me corrected. And happily so.”

You pushed away the smile that threatened to cross your face, and looked back at the fire, aware that Zemo was still staring at you, almost fervently.

Suddenly, you were both surprised as the lights of the cabin flickered back on, and the sound of the heater could be heard re-starting. Turning, you looked out the window, and saw that snow was still falling, it was no longer pelting against the glass. “The storm must be passing.”

Zemo hummed under his breath in agreement. Though he felt a sense of disappointment at the change of events, wondering if you were going to run off at any given moment.

Turning back to the fire, you reached over, picking up the fire poker and prodding at the fire. Sipping at the remnant of your hot chocolate, you corrected your position, and remained where you were, with no intention of putting the fire out, or moving.

Zemo, picking up on this, remained where he sat, and felt pleased that you did not run off as soon as you could, but instead remained beside him.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Zemo spoke again. “Thank you for telling me about your parents.” You looked over at him, almost startled by the sudden tone of conversation. “You did not have too, but I am glad you did.” He smiled softly at you, which you returned. “It is important to remember the things you have lost, even if it hurts.”

As he spoke, you realized, he was not just talking about your parents, or your loss, but his own. As he finished speaking he looked at you, and you could see a look in his eyes that made it seem that he was afraid, or vulnerable.

You smiled softly at him. “Just because you have lost something, does not mean you cannot find it again, or something just as important.”

Zemo locked his eyes with yours, and seemed to see through you, into your thoughts and heart. “And in this case, what is it that we have lost that we might be able to find again?”

You were unsure if you should say it, unsure of what would happen if you did. Your choice now could change the course of your future, you knew you might end up regretting it, that it would not end the way you wanted, but something in you told you that you must.

With a soft breath, and a voice almost a whisper, you smiled softly. “Love.”

xx End xx

UH OH CLIFFHANGER - I did not want this to go on forever, but if it is wanted, I could maybe write a part three to end this. So let me know if you are interested.

Also, if you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging and sharing it to others!! Comments and Likes are also appreciated~

If you' like to be added to my General, Marvel, or Zemo taglist(s), just let me know!

#Helmut Zemo #Baron Helmut Zemo #Zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo/reader #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo/you #marvel #fatws reader insert #zemo x reader #zemo/reader #fatws oneshot #fatws one shot #oneshot #one shot #lost and found #part two #christmas 2021 #helmut zemo oneshot #helmut zemo one shot #helmut zemo imagine #zemo oneshot #12 days of christmas #day eight #fluff #cute #pining #baron helmut zemo x reader

[stealtheshield]

More Than Curiosity

a/n: hey y’all! After the latest episode of tfatws, I found myself more than a little interested in Zemo’s character. This is the result! It takes place immediately after the ending of episode three, but will most likely veer into AU territory pretty soon. (masterlist) (part two)

warnings: language, slow burn, enemies(ish) to lovers

word count: ~2.1k

You love your great Uncle Oeznik dearly, but one of these days, you’re going to have to have a serious talk with him about morals.

Or a lack thereof.

You stand at the top of the stairs and watch as your uncle enters the house, followed by two men.

And to your dismay, you recognize them.

Uncle Oeznik, the Falcon, and him.

Baron Helmut fucking Zemo. In the flesh.

You hurry down the stairs and jerk Oeznik to the side, feeling only slightly guilty at your manhandling of the older man.

“What the hell is this?” you hiss quietly, glancing at where the two men stand waiting.

“They need a place to stay,” Oeznik says simply, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Need I remind you one of those men is a criminal?” you ask. Oeznik waves you off. Of fucking course he does.

“I’ve known Helmut since he was a boy. And the other two are American heroes. They’re staying.” The word “two” catches in the back of your mind.

“Two?” you say. Oeznik smiles gently and pats your hand.

“They have a friend on a walk.” You grit your teeth and watch as Oeznik welcomes them to your home, located a convenient distance from Zemo’s actual estate.

When you agreed to come help your great uncle, it was under the guise of relieving some of the burden he carried. Despite the Baron Zemo’s imprisonment, he still had several nice houses around Europe, one of which was managed by Oeznik, in the midst of all the other favors and chores he did for the wayward baron.

After the Blip, you needed a new job — your old one, understandably having been taken — and you needed a new location.

Trying to piece back together your life after five years passed seemingly in an instant isn’t easy.

Working for Baron Zemo — even if it was by proxy — wasn’t your first choice. But it had worked, and you’d been under the (perhaps naïve) assumption he’d be in prison for a long, long time.

Ha. You should know by now life isn’t fair.

You follow Oeznik as he shows the two men around your modest house, and the horrible thought hits you.

You’ve hardly enough space for two people, let alone five. You haven’t the foggiest where you’ll put the three of them, least of all Zemo, whom you trust no farther than you can throw him. He seems relaxed enough, but there’s an air about him that has you screaming at yourself to be on guard.

Hell, for all you know, he could slit your throat in your sleep and take what he wants. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t like this. The front door creaks open, and the third man, the friend, steps in. When you see who it is, you cringe.

Of course the friend is the Winter Soldier. Why wouldn’t it be?

Oeznik ends up in the kitchen, where you have a nice soup going. It was originally intended to stave off the cold Baltic night air, but the longer this goes on, the more you feel your blood beginning to boil, so you barely even feel the cold.

“We’re grateful to you for opening your home.” It’s the Falcon speaking to you, and you wish you could remember his real name. Out of all them, he seems the most pleasant, actually apologetic for interrupting you.

“No trouble.” You lie through your teeth, and both Zemo and the Winter Soldier eye you. It leaves you on edge. Like prey left out in the open.

“Please, enjoy dinner,” you say. “I’m going to go prepare a room.” And by prepare a room, you mean you’ll be figuring out how to bed everyone down.

The logical choice is to give the three of them Oeznik’s room and move him in with you, since he comes and goes, while you live here permanently. But although Oeznik never stays for very long, he’s very particular over how he likes his space, and you don’t want to bother him.

Plus, your room is the one with a set of double beds.

So with a sigh you grab some of your more important items and some extra clothing, and you place it on Oeznik’s dresser.

You’ve just finished turning down the sheets in your ex-room when you hear the floor creak behind you. Laughter echoes up the stairs, and you freeze before turning slowly.

It’s Zemo. Of course it’s the fucking baron.

“Can I help you?” you ask. He studies you, silent, and that unnerves you more than his gaze does.

“Oeznik did not tell us your name.” His voice is pleasant enough, which is odd, because his words are so calculatingly cold you feel like you’re on trial.

“It’s not important,” you say, fluffing a pillow. You need to be careful, lest your dislike bleed out. The last thing you need is your attitude getting you into trouble. Aside from the obvious reasons for disliking him, he just seems spoiled. Like a rich kid who didn’t get his way one time, so he decided to cause anarchy. 

“I like to know who I’m trusting,” he says, and you can’t quite smother the snort that escapes you. You glance back and see he’s got an eyebrow raised.

“Is something amusing?” You jerk your attention back to the bed.

“No.” God, what was Oeznik thinking?

“But you clearly know who I am. So I am placed at a disadvantage.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, on autopilot.

“Let’s keep it that way.” As soon as the words hit the air, you cringe, wishing you could take them back. But you refuse to apologize. What’s said is said. Best to get it all out.

His footsteps are nearly silent, save the way the floor creaks under him.

You feel him right behind you.

“Would you like to repeat that?” You turn. If you’re going to go out, it won’t be because you’re easily cowed by a selfish rich boy.

“You heard me.” You see the anger flash in his eyes at the disrespect, and you raise your chin, daring him to do something.

He tilts his head, nostrils flaring.

“Stay out of my way,” he says, “and we will not have problems.” You look into the bottomless pits of his dark eyes, and the news stories flash through your mind.

The two of you stare at each other, your hands fisted at your sides. You break first.

“Bed’s ready. Have fun dividing up who sleeps where.” You push past him, headed for the kitchen and safety in numbers.

~~~

Oeznik waits until you’ve shut the door to your now-shared bedroom to speak on the situation.

“It won’t be for long,” he says. “Just until they can come up with their next lead.” You shake your head.

“I don’t want to hear anymore. Oeznik, do you realize this is illegal? Do you realize the trouble we could get in?” He waves you off.

“Bah. Plenty of people have done illegal things for the right reasons.” You think of the way Zemo cornered you earlier, the way he threatened you.

“This isn’t the right reason, Uncle,” you say. He purses his lips, a sign he disagrees and you sigh. It’s late and you’re both tired.

“We need to get some sleep,” you say, arranging your pallet on the floor. Oeznik tried to get you to take the bed, but there was no way you were letting the elderly man and his bad hip take the cold floor.

“Things will look better in the morning,” he says.

Things do not look better in the morning. You’re the first one awake, stumbling into the kitchen to make coffee. Someone clears their throat in the corner, and you nearly drop your favorite mug.

Zemo is sitting there.

“You’re late,” he says, “I’ve been waiting on coffee.” The fucking audacity. You slam the carafe harder than you need to.

“Should have made it yourself, ass,” you mutter, too tired to censor yourself. He sneers at you and stands, and you expect more threats.

Instead he takes the bag of ground coffee beans from your hands.

“This,” he says, “is shit.” You snatch the bag from him and place it back in its neat container, as if the layer of cheerful ceramic will protect it from the harsh words.

“This,” you say, “is cheap.” He opens his mouth to retort, but the Winter Soldier and the Falcon choose that moment to enter.

You manage a smile at the Falcon, but the Winter Solider still unnerves you. Trying to remedy that, to make an attempt for Oeznik, you speak.

“So, outside of him-” and here you glare at Zemo- “I don’t know your actual names. I’d like to, if you trust me.” Zemo snorts, and you know he’s thinking of your conversation from the day before.

“It’s Sam,” the Falcon says, and you smile. The Winter Soldier eyes you, then shrugs a little.

“James.” You nod.

“Nice to meet you both.” They watch you, and you know they’re waiting on you to give them your name. The issue is Zemo is still standing right there and you’d really hate for him to have that pleasure.

Oeznik solves this issue, calling for you from the upstairs. You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh.

“Coming,” you call. As you leave, you hear Zemo mimic him under his breath, like a literal fucking child.

~~~

Helmut Zemo is used to getting what he wants. It might take time and planning, but he always gets what he wants. Eventually. 

And right now? He wants out of this fucking house.

It’s bad enough that he has two glorified babysitters, but then Oeznik had to go and add you into the mix.

His original plan had been to bide his time in the nice estate he’s kept right on the Baltic coast. But as Sam pointed out, by now, the police are looking for him, and any properties will be prime targets. It goads him only marginally that the thought did not cross his mind first. 

Anyways, this solution was easy enough to think up. The house of a caretaker? Woefully overlooked. Too bad you’re the caretaker in question.

You’re hell on earth, quite frankly. No respect, a god-awful mouth, and an annoying way of seeing through his bullshit.

Oeznik, quite clearly, dotes on you. And Helmut likes Oeznik, has since he was a boy, so he’s willing to put up with a lot for him. But your attitude is going to be the death of someone one of these days, and he can’t be certain it will be you. In fact the longer he stays here, the more certain he is it will be him.

He mouths your name as he takes a sip of the shitty, cheap coffee, and it tastes almost as bitter on his tongue as the overcooked beans this brew came from. What he wouldn’t give for a quality brew.  

“What are you plotting now?” It’s Sam, studying him from across the table. Like always. Can’t he have one goddamn private thought around here?

“I am trying to decide where we go next.” It’s a half-truth. At this point, he’s willing to join a circus if it means getting away from you. He isn’t sure why you get so under his skin, but he hates it and he’s had enough.

And, in truth, he doesn’t know what to do. And he’s scared to admit that to Sam and James, because if they suspect he’s outlived his usefulness, then they won’t hesitate to either kill him or imprison him again.

He’s not sure which he prefers.

However, he’s not a stupid man, and he knows with every passing day that he fails to produce a lead, the need of his presence dwindles. It’s only a matter of time before Sam and James start doing the math, and eventually, their equation will work best when they factor out him.

He wants to have at least three solid plans in place before that happens. Plans that do not, under any circumstances, involve you. 

You have the audacity to interrupt his thoughts as you bustle back into the room in your frumpy pajamas. Snapping your hair out of your face, you bend down to find a pan to prepare breakfast. He does not stare at you ass, but he does note that it is at least pleasant to look at, much like the rest of you.

Too bad your damn mouth ruins it all.

#baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #zemo x reader #zemo x you #reader insert #enemies to lovers #slow burn #i fully accept my place in the dumpster #please enjoy and thanks for reading!! <3 #tfatws spoilers

[late-to-the-party-81]

Requests Info

Hi all!

If my requests are open, and you wish to make one, please check out this post first.

REQUESTS CURRENTLY CLOSED! (March 2024)

Thanks you for making your request - please note that I reserve the right to not fill requests that I don't vibe with or do not fall within my boundaries.

Ship fics - I happy to write for the following ships

Any combo of the Cap Quartet, be that 2,3 or all 4 of them.

Starker (only with aged up Peter)

Lokius

Various CE/SS characters (e.g. Lloyd x Nick, Ransom x Lance etc.)

Winter Baron

Combos of Poly Avengers

WandaNat

IronFrost

IronStrange

StrangeFrost

X reader fics - I'm happy to write the following characters with a reader insert or OC

Steve

Bucky

Stucky

Sam

Natasha

Valkyrie

Frank Castle

Eddie Brock (with or without Venom)

Loki

Thor

Joaquin

Zemo

Tony

Dr Strange

TASM or MCU Peter Parker

Wanda

Bruce

CE/SS Characters (please check - I'm not familiar with some of the newer ones and will not do Tommy Lee)

Types of reader insert characters I will write

Any gender (including Trans, Enby or GN) but please provide details if you would like details smut, including squicks in terms of vocabulary usage and kinks.

Always racially neutral. I actively avoid mood board pictures that imply race - I will only use pictures like this if I cannot find something else. The race shown in the mood board does not alter the way I write the reader insert.

I do not use Y/N - I will always find some kind of nickname for the reader

Types of fics I write

Smut (soft, explicit and/or kinky - remember the Kink Tomato!)

Angst

Fluff

Slice of life

Action

Dark (Violence and/or Non-Con/Dub-Con)

What I WON'T write

MCD

Underage (I am from the UK - age of consent here is 16. I would never write an adult with someone of that age, but would write two people of about that age together.)

Scat or Golden Showers (Omoroshi is a bit different - please ask)

Snuff

Incest (that includes Thorki)

Requests can be for new, original fics, or for a continuation of any of my one-shots or series. Please note that if you use the anon function I will not be able to clarify your wants with you or notify you when a story is posted. Anons are allowed though.

When my requests are open, they will be fulffilled and and when the muse and real life allows. Fics will be as long or short as the muse dictates.

If requests are closed, (or even if they are open) please do send asks about my current series - you never know - it may spark something.

#requests #fic requests #late to the party 81 #request info

[dameronology]

the loyalty complexity {zemo x reader/steve rogers x reader} - part two

summary: after being caught with zemo, you're forced to choose between your loyalties to the man you love and freedom. if only you could have both. (part one)

warnings: swearing, angst, brief mentions of death

i was overwhelmed by the response to part one -- thank you so much! i love you all

- jazz xx

You learnt about the tram problem in high school.

Two outcomes, both with their pros and cons.

Yeah, this was a little like that - except instead of being on a tram, you were on some kind of highway to hell and you couldn't see five foot ahead of you. It was like some kind of fog - guilt and regret and inordinate amounts of not fucking knowing - was clouding at the edges of your vision. It was hanging over your brain like a storm cloud, lingering and jittering but not...doing anything. There was no rain; no thunder or lightning or bits of sunshine peaking through. It was in a limbo. You were in a limbo.

Steve was a fucking twat. You knew that much. He'd taken the dictionary definition of the word and multiplied it by ten. Not only had he left you behind all those years ago, but now he was throwing it back in your face. Dangling your freedom right in front of your face like someone teasing a young, naive puppy.

The worst part was that some sick, twisted part of you wanted to think about; wanted to day dream about the idea of you and him, going back to how it used to be. Before you were both worn down by the weight of reality, before you'd seen the ugliest sides of each other. Maybe that was the problem now - you'd seen the most twisted parts of Steve Rogers and it had driven you away from him. If he could find it within himself to forgive you, why couldn't you do the same? What was holding you back from throwing aside the difficulty of the last few years and just...going back?

You were leaning against the wall of the hotel room, baggy SHIELD-issue clothes hanging off your body like shedding skin. What an ugly metaphor.

Dusting off your knees, you stood up and ventured over to the door. It was locked from the outside - you raised your fist and tapped twice.

"What do you want?" the guard from the outside asked.

"To speak to Steve," you called back, "...Captain Rogers, I mean."

"About what, inmate?" he sniffed, "he's a busy man."

"I know, but he'll make time for me," you pushed. "Please? It's about my plea deal."

"Fine," he sighed, "I'll go and get him. Don't go anywhere."

You snorted. "You're funny."

Maybe you were pushing your luck with this one - but if Steve really loved you, then he'd do ask you asked. He'd gone out his way before to give you everything you wanted, and you were hoping he still held onto that value. He'd changed beyond recognition but some part of your old self wanted to find his. You'd gone through hell and back and, as anyone would have, you'd changed. Grown, withered, scarred, ran - whatever you'd done, you were no longer the same. Somehow, though, Steve's presence was bringing that old side of you back out.

There was a gentle knock, and a moment later Steve stuck his head around the door. He didn't look like Captain America now, but rather the man you used to know. Tufty blonde hair and tired blue eyes, with a loose fitting plaid shirt and look of concern etched on his features.

No, dammit, you thought to yourself, have a fucking back bone!

"Hey," Steve quietly greeted you. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah," you crossed the room, nervously playing with your hands. "I do."

"What's going on?" he asked. "Have you made up your mind?"

"Not yet," you replied. "There's one more thing."

Taking a seat at the foot of the bed, you patted the space next to you. For the sake of trying to think clearly and make a rational decision, you'd shoved aside your personal feelings, choosing just to look at the facts. You and Steve had been together for five years - he'd looked after you. He'd had your back in every aspect of the word and he'd made you feel safe. Then, he'd shoved you out into the cold - isolated you from his own world and shut you out - when things got complicated.

That was when Zemo had come in; he'd kept you company during the loneliest time of your life. When the one person who should have stayed by your side locked you out in the cold, he'd done the emotional equivalent of taking your hand and giving you his jacket.

The old you had loved Steve. The new you loved Zemo. The problem was, they co-existed in side of you in some sort of fucked up Jekyll and Hyde situation.

"This isn't an easy decision, Steve," you explained. "I'm not choosing between you and him. I would never let any part of my life be valued by which men want me."

"I know," he nodded.

"I'm choosing between being loyal to the person who has protected me the last three years or my freedom," you continued. "Because if I choose the latter, I'm betraying someone I care about."

"He ripped apart our family-"

"You did that yourself," you snapped. "do you know how isolated I was when I was out there on my own? There were times when I nearly died because I let myself, because being dead felt like a better alternative than losing my goddamn identity! He saved me from myself more than once."

"This-"

"- let me finish," you stood up. "I loved you, Steve. I loved you so fucking much to the point where I gave up everything for you and...and you just threw it back in my face like it was nothing."

"I know," Steve stood up too, broad frame coming close to you. "God, I know. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm just trying to make it right."

"By manipulating me?" you shot back. "By taking my literal fucking freedom and dangling it in front of my face?"

"That's not what this is about," he insisted. "I brokered that plea deal before I knew anything about you and Zemo...canoodling-"

"- you're a grown man, Steve," you deadpanned. "Use a better word than canoodling."

"Fine. I did it before I knew that you two were in love? Is that better?"

"Yeah," you folded your arms across your chest. "But that's nothing to do with the decision I'm making. I'm thinking about his actions and what he's done for me rather than my personal feelings."

"Smart," he muttered. "What did you even want to talk about?"

"I need to see him."

"I can't do that."

"You can," you said. "And you will."

--

Steve was gone nearly an hour before he came back with Zemo - after all, there was a lot of clearance that was needed from a lot of people, even just to transport an internationally criminal five doors down to see another internationally wanted criminal.

It had been just over half a day since you'd seen Zemo. You weren't that far off from going crazy with worry over him - you knew he'd been fine (he was a crafty bastard after all) but he'd been by your side for the better part of three years. There hadn't been a single day without him. You could easily get by on your own but that didn't mean you wanted to.

Steve didn't bother knocking this time round - instead, he burst in the room and shoved Zemo inside. He sauntered in, giving the super soldier a little wave as Steve slammed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, and as soon as you were alone, he dropped his suave act.

Meeting you half way across the room, your bodies slammed together - Zemo pulled you into a tight and wrapped his arms around you. He just held you for a minute, because this time yesterday, he wasn't sure if he would again. He'd lost everything before and the second SHIELD burst through the door, he felt that all-consuming pain for a second time. He never meant for you to become everything to him.

"What's going on?" he gently asked. "Why have they let me see you?"

"Steve didn't explain it, did he?" you said.

"No. He hasn't said anything to me at all," Zemo gently rubbed his hands up and down your arms as he spoked, brow furrowed with concern. "You look scared. Are you okay?"

"He got me a plea deal," you murmured.

"That's...that's good, isn't it?" he said. "A shorter sentence and a comfier bed is never a bad thing."

"No, not like that," your eyes fell to the floor, "they're going to drop the charges completely."

"What's the catch?"

"How do you know?"

"There's always a catch, my darling," he softly smiled. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"I have to give them everything I have on you," you sighed, "but I'm not doing it. Steve is only using it as leverage to manipulate me into being in his debt-"

"- I don't think he's manipulating you," Zemo cut you off. "I think he's just doing everything within his Earthly power to win you back. I'd do the same if I could, if I'd hurt you that badly."

"He can't win me back," you huffed.

"So don't let him," he said. "Take the deal and get a fresh start. Move away from here, from him-"

"- but what about you?" you took his hands in yours, tightly intertwining your fingers.

"You talk, I go to prison for a long time. You don't talk, I go to prison for a long time," Zemo reminded you. "My destiny has been set in stone for a long time."

"I can't betray you."

"You have my permission," he said. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he pulled you into another tight hug.

"I'm sorry," you murmured.

"Don't be," he replied.

You didn't want to cry. It sucked - almost as much as this whole situation, but what else could you do when everything you knew had come crashing down around you? The life you'd built with Zemo was far from ideal, but it was yours, and it was his, and it was deeply complicated little world that you enjoyed.

"D'you think you'll go to the Raft?" you asked.

"Probably," he replied. "You can write me letters."

"Right, yeah," you nodded.

"I expect to see post cards from Italy and Spain and Germany, and all the countries you'll be exploring now that you're free," he softly smiled. "But most of all, please don't let me hold you back. From a future, or from Steve - and I know what you're going to say, but your first love is always the one you'll never quite let go of."

He was right - you knew that he would drop everything you had in a second if he could get back his lost love. But, he didn't have the chance. You did. Now, there was the time and the space for you to work things out with Steve and maybe, just maybe, get back to where you used to be. Then in a few years - five or ten - all this would merely be a blip. A little detour in your relationship.

The difference between your first love and Zemo's first love was that his was dead. She was gone; forever encased in his mind as a perfect vision, protected by the fragility of mortality. Steve, however, was very much alive and breathing (and he wouldn't let you fucking forget it). You did have that memory of him - the version of him that you'd loved so deeply - but now you were faced with a darker, uglier version. A man who had hurt you in every way possible and broken your trust and your heart. Maybe you could get your Steve back and maybe you could take the remaining sparks of your love and nurture them into something bigger and better, but they were just that. Maybes. There was no guarantee that things would ever be the same again, especially not when you'd be forced to live the knowledge of how badly he'd damaged you.

That was when you knew in your heart that you couldn't choose him. You didn't love Steve - you loved the memory of him and the familiarity it brought. You loved the versions of one another that you'd been before the world had got to you. Neither of you could pretend.

"It's too late for me and Steve," you murmured.

"And it's too late for me and you," Zemo countered. "But it's not too late for just you. You have a shot at freedom and you should take it."

"I will," you tearfully smiled. "Thank you - for everything."

"No, thank you," he shook his head, "I lost everything and you helped me find it again."

"I love you," you quietly said.

That was the first time you'd said it. Before then, things had always been too complex. The L-word could only make the whole situation even more entangled, because neither of you could even work out what said situation was in the first place - especially given your history. Now that it was over, it was just...simple. Stripped back to the bare foundations of what this truly was: you loved him and he loved you. That was all that mattered.

"I love you too," Zemo replied, "you should go and talk to Rogers. Let him know that you've made a decision."

"I will."

"And for the love of god - please learn to cook."

He pressed one final kiss to your lips, before letting go and slowly backing away towards the door.

That was it. This was over. It was all over.

The last five years; the heartbreak, the tears, the love, the fights. Every single thing you'd ever felt had all mounted to this moment - from loving and losing Steve, to falling in love with the man who had once been your enemy, to finding solace in people and not causes.

There was the sound of handcuffs locking - a moment later, Steve stuck his head around the door. He looked nervous.

"Did you get to talk about what you needed?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'll take the deal."

"But?"

A sigh escaped your lips. "You can't cling onto the past, because no matter how hard you try to hold on, it's gone. Being together because it's familiar isn't love. It's fear."

What you had with Zemo was the very opposite of that: he'd stopped you being scared. He was an anchor when everything around you was fucking crazy. A life raft when you felt like you could barely tread water. He saw you out the other side of the hardest time of your life.

"You're right," Steve murmured. "But do you forgive me?"

You smiled slightly. "I forgave you a long time ago."

There was going to be a lot of paperwork - not to mention, a lot of dealing with the press. An Avenger gone bad then good again? That was gonna be in the headlines for a while. It didn't matter too much to you, because re-adjusting to normal life and moving on from yet another tumultuous love affair was your number one priority. You wanted to settle down - maybe in New York, maybe in London, or Rome - and hold Zemo to his promise of learning to cook.

Then there was something else.

"There's just one thing," you added. "If you really wanted to clean your slate."

Steve frowned. "What's that?"

"Help me find the others," you replied. "Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Nat, Clint, Scott. All of them."

"Yeah, okay," he smiled. "Let's do it."

a/n: ok SO i wrote this and rewrote it like a thousand times - i hope it's a satisfying ending?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #steve rogers reader insert #zemo x you #zemo imagine #zemo angst #zemo reader insert #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #avengers x you #avengers imagines