#wingterbaron

[19thcenturylover]

Silly thing for an Animatic :D!

More Wingterbaron stuff... partially. I'm thinking of making a small animatic/video of them but in a genderbend version and well, I ended up elaborating the doodles of the idea ;3 (all headshots because that was the important thing and some hc)

Sammy, i love her and im gonna kiss her😙‼️ (This is more related to the CA4 movie but for me there is only the white suit AND JUST THAT SUIT—)

Bucky, I was looking for some references and tbh, are people afraid to make their hair short? or make her muscular?? Tbh for me it's even a butch soo aha xd

And Zemo, I was thinking too much about whether to leave her hair short or make it long, in the end it looked like this but her hair would be a little longer <3

#digitalart #fanart #mcu #marvel mcu #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #sam x bucky x zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #genderbend #yeah idk #doodles

[sholiofic]

… wingfic where Zemo is fastidious about keeping them tidy and neat even on the Raft, but when he badly breaks his wrist on a parole mission it gradually becomes clear he can’t groom them now without his left arm: he’s no longer sleek and well-kept, there’s loose feathers sticking out everywhere when his coat slips, and it doesn’t look comfortable at ALL. But letting Sam and/or Bucky help? That’s a whole other Issue.

"Hey," Sam said, as Zemo tried to reach over his shoulder and stuff his wings back under his coat. "You're not supposed to be moving that wrist."

Zemo didn't actually answer in words, but his expression said I do what I want more clearly than words would have anyway. His expression also said Ow. Sam watched him struggle for another moment before he cracked. 

"Do you want some help with that?"

"I'm fine," Zemo said.

That was, in general, his answer to everything. 

"You dropped something," Bucky called brightly from the kitchen, pointing to a feather on the floor.

Zemo's answer to that was the sort of noise a wet cat might have made.

*

The care that Zemo took with his wings was meticulous. Although Sam's initial curiosity about his wings had never entirely worn off, over time both Sam and Bucky had gone from being curious and interested, to mainly just annoyed. Zemo would almost certainly have been a bathroom hog even without the wings, he was just that type of person, but the wings took it to the point of absolute absurdity. He spent hours meticulously combing, smoothing, and oiling them—at least Sam assumed that's what he was doing in there. His wing-care oils and combs and perfumes took up the entire bathroom cabinet wherever they went and left no room for anyone else's toothbrush. And all of this just to tuck his wings under his coat most of the time.

Having one wrist out of commission had also put his daily wing-care regiment out of whack. This was funny at first, but increasingly less so as he got snappier about it, and his wings got scruffier. Sam was beginning to realize that the all-day wing care was as much necessity as vanity. Okay, vanity was definitely part of it. But it was obvious that without being constantly taken care of, his wings started to develop scruffy patches and out-of-place feathers.

"Going somewhere?" Bucky asked. Zemo—sitting on the couch with his coat on—glared at him. 

Zemo had very nearly stopped taking his coat off indoors, which Sam suspected was partly embarrassment about the state of his wings and partly just that he had a lot of trouble getting the wings tucked into their usual positions if he took it off.

There were times to be cautious and circumspect, and times to bull ahead straight through. 

Sam had never been accused of not being stubborn enough.

*

Zemo gave him a look of wary unease when Sam sat beside him on the couch with a towel, a couple of bottles, and one of Zemo's oversized wing combs, all of them swiped from Zemo's prodigious bathroom stash.

"Have you been in my things?" Zemo said.

"Yes," Sam said. Bucky, in the kitchen, was clearly listening in fascination; if he could have sprouted a giant ear like a cartoon character, he would have done so. 

"I don't need help," Zemo said tightly.

"Look, man, you're getting feathers everywhere, and it's annoying. Bucky can't spend all day sweeping up after you." 

There was a scoffing sound from the kitchen.

"Think of it as a necessary household chore that you can't do one-handed," Sam added. "So one of us can step in for a bit."

Zemo regarded him with one of his weird hard-to-read expressions. Then, abruptly, he shoved back the tail of his coat and began to struggle out of it. "For necessary household reasons," he said.

"Of course," Sam said, firmly resisting helping him with the coat.

When Zemo got the coat off, Sam saw that the condition of his wings was even worse than he'd realized. Keeping them cooped up under the coat all the time probably wasn't a big help. They were dull and scruffy, and some of the feathers actually looked broken or out of kilter.

Sam carefully settled a hand on his wing. Zemo jerked a little.

"Hurt?" Sam said.

"No," Zemo said, his voice abrupt.

His feathers were softer than Sam had realized. Actually, the only thing Sam had to compare it to—a comparison he definitely did not plan to share with Zemo—was that it made him think of a neighbor of theirs who'd had chickens when he was a kid. The chickens were soft like this, a kind of cloudlike feathery softness, warm and alive.

He was never, ever telling Zemo that.

"I don't know exactly what to do," Sam admitted. "You might have to guide me a little."

Zemo still looked extremely off balance, but this at least got him back in his favorite mode: being a smug know-it-all. And it seemed to work. He relaxed a little as he showed Sam, as best he could one-handed, how to use the comb to separate the feathers and work in the oil.

It was steady, meticulous work, weirdly soothing, but what really caught Sam off guard was how much it seemed to relax Zemo to have his wings worked on. He seemed to be slowly melting into the couch, and didn't even do more than stir a little when Bucky wandered in, curiosity having become too much for him.

"Need some help?"

"Grab a comb and a wing," Sam said.

Zemo half opened his eyes at that, as if to object—but he didn't.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #helmut zemo #sam wilson #wingfic #bucky barnes #wingterbaron #kinda #with actual wings

[professor-pants]

Ok does anyone know of any fics that explore Zemo's mental health, suicidal tendencies, or self destruction? Preferable with both Sam and Bucky involved/helping/or just generally giving a shit about him. Zemos messed up psyche is my favorite thing about him but i never find it written well

#sambuckyzemo #winterbaron #helmut zemo #tfatws #wingterbaron

[myckicade]

I haven't been writing enough. I have chaptered fics that I am trying to finish, but I need a few palate cleansers.

Desk drabbles. Who wants 'em? Send me a fandom, a pairing, a prompt, a song, whatever you've got. I'll see what I can put forth into the world.

#Fanfiction #Ask Box Fic #Mycki Writes #Our Flag Means Death #OFMD #BlackBonnet #Mayans MC #Interview with the Vampire #IwtV #Armand x Daniel #Daniel x Armand #Loustat #BaronWinterFalcon #WingterBaron #SamBuckyZemo #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Supernatural #Wincest #Sastiel #Dean x Jimmy #Jimmy x Dean

[janiedean]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson/Helmut Zemo Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Helmut Zemo, T'Challa (Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Moral Dilemmas, Moral Ambiguity, Hurt Helmut Zemo, Angst with a Happy Ending, pseudo h/c, Hydra (Marvel), please heed the warning, Collars, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, brainwashing/mind control mention but on par with canon, Threesome - M/M/M, Anal Sex, Top Sam Wilson, Switch Bucky Barnes, Bottom Helmut Zemo, sort of i guess Summary: “What’s the poison today?” He asks, dragging himself out of bed. He could have been less forward about how much he isn’t looking forward to it, but he’s too old and has been through too much to give a shit about that.

Sam sighs. “Long story short, there’s – well. They’re not one hundred percent sure, but according to what intel they just sent me, there are a few Hydra rogues that haven’t gotten caught yet who – well. They apparently got into an abandoned base in a village north of… formerly-Novi Grad, and are trying to stir something up, and no one’s exactly stopping them because no one wants to fuck things up any further in that area, officially.”

Ah, fuck. “Lemme guess,” Bucky sighs, guessing where this is going already, “we need Zemo to navigate the situation because like hell the two of us would manage to pass under the radar in the area, and we need to make sure to dispatch of them quickly and painlessly before they build another worse Hydra cell with another fifteen heads to cut off?” 

or: in which Bucky and Sam bring Zemo on another mission. It doesn't go anywhere like any of them had planned.

aaand last of the day have a last commission from an anonymous requester who wanted sam/bucky/zemo in the aforementioned setting - this is not my usual turf but I hope it’s a good result, thanks again! <3

commissions open || buy me a coffee

#sambuckyzemo #sambucky #winterbaron #wingterbaron #i guess??? #guys idk what tags y'all use i searched on tumblr i hope it's fine #ch: bucky barnes #ch: sam wilson #ch: helmut zemo #torture cw #violence cw #commissions tag

[laylainalaska]

Ohmygod Wingterbaron! <3 <3 Is that really a thing?

It is sort of a thing! 😆 I believe it was coined on the Winterbaron discord for that ship, and I've started tagging with it because I think it's cute! I've seen some other people doing it too.

#tfatws #wingterbaron

[19thcenturylover]

SILLY WINGTERBARON THINGS AAAA (50/50 repost srry)

I'm in a strange mood but since I see that I don't see much content of them... I have to do it for my own, anyways 🕴

This dynamic, it's very them but I got frustrated doing the drawing and aha.. :P

And this SUPER OLD THING What I put here basically because I feel bad if I just post one ugly doodle AIDJSKS— pls people make more content Wingterbaron I'm getting desperate and the dollar is too expensive to commission😭😭

#digitalart #fanart #doodles #mcu #wingterbaron #sam x bucky x zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #ot3 #polyam relationship #yeah idk

[19thcenturylover]

Wingterbaron doodles because i'm back to my tfatws phase

It's been way too long since I've posted anything about marvel here but since we have the announcement of the thunderbolts and Captain America 4 I just couldn't help but go back to them 3 :D

(Has context but Im too shy and stupid to explain it)

A doodle, I'm recovering from art block so I really enjoyed drawing Sam and Zemo together. Bucky is very lucky to have not only Captain America as a boyfriend but the leader of the Thunderbolts as well :0.

Old stupid doodle, I will not mention anything else about it.

And yes, then I will draw more of them. They are just so chaotic and I love them :D♡♡

(I will return to my Dinot3 phase but I want to enjoy this <3.)

#digitalart #fanart #yeah idk #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #wingterbaron #sam x bucky x zemo #ot3 #marvel #they are my ot3 #I hope to see them together again sometime :(

[sholiofic]

A SamBuckyZemo prompt: SamBucky are an established couple. Sometimes they take Zemo to bed, but just as a parolee with benefits. After sex Zemo always gets up and leaves, and SamBucky are fine with being left alone for some affectionate cuddle time. After one post-mission adreneline induced threesome, Zemo is so exhausted and thoroughly fucked that he sub-drops right into deep sleep. Initially not very thrilled about his prolonged stay, SamBucky discover the sleeping Baron is quite squishable :3

Getting back to prompts. :D

--

The first time that Zemo ended up in Sam and Bucky's bed was an adrenaline-fueled "how are we actually alive" hookup and Bucky got the feeling that Zemo felt as weird about it as they did afterwards.

But it kept happening, now and then, in roadside motels and suburban Airbnbs and cushy safehouses. Sam was the one who kept trying to put the brakes on it, but honestly, it was really hard to stop Zemo from doing anything he wanted to do, and apparently what he occasionally wanted was no-holds-barred stress-relief sex. This was usually followed by a polite good night to each of them, accompanied by a light kiss, and Zemo retreating to his own room and then making breakfast for them in the morning.

And now this.

"He's on my arm," Sam murmured, but very quietly, barely moving his lips.

It hadn't been a good day. They were all three exhausted, banged up, scraped and bruised. Things had gone sideways with the hostages they were trying to rescue. It was one of those days when you crawled home and took a long, hot shower, licked your wounds a little, and tried to find ways to ground yourself and get your brain to shut off for a while.

Sex was pretty good for that.

But whereas sex involving Zemo was usually energetic, athletic, and inventive (Zemo was up for just about anything and happy to come up with ideas), this had been gentler, quiet and careful, with attention to each other's sore places and a lot of petting and kissing.

And then Zemo, who had clearly been flagging toward the end, fell asleep almost instantly, sandwiched between them.

Bucky would normally have looked forward to rolling over and wrapping himself around Sam. Now there was a limp, heavy, out-like-a-light wall of Zemo between them.

Bucky nudged him a little.

"Don't wake him up," Sam whispered.

"Didn't you just say he's on your arm?"

Sam writhed a little and then draped an arm over Zemo, who squirmed sleepily and then nestled closer to Sam and, if possible, sank even deeper asleep.

"Not anymore," Sam whispered.

Bucky was now both annoyed and jealous—although he couldn't decide exactly who he was jealous of. Sam was a great cuddler. World-class. On the other hand, Zemo was soft and pleasantly fuzzy and awfully nice for full-body contact, not that Bucky was ever going to admit it to his face.

Bucky rolled up against him. Sam's hand found Bucky's hip and lightly stroked it, which was nice; but not quite enough — Bucky found that when he laid partly on top of Zemo, he could get at Sam. As it turned out, Zemo made a good pillow.

There was a faint, sleepy, disgruntled noise.

"Shut it," Bucky said, and rested a little more of his weight on Zemo, draping an arm on top of Sam.

The noises trailed off into soft snoring, as if, for the moment, Zemo was exactly where he wanted to be: half buried under both of them.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #sambuckyzemo

[19thcenturylover]

Quick Wingterbaron doodle <3

It's from days ago but anyways :P

Picos picos piquitos, ellos aman los piquitos😙✨️🏳️‍🌈

#digitalart #fanart #tfatws #wingterbaron #sam x bucky x zemo #helmut zemo #bucky barnes #sam wilson #yeah idk #polyam relationship #polyamory

[sholiofic]

We've got fluff with Zemo using Sam and Bucky as pillows, but how about Sam and Bucky using Zemo as a plushie? Squeeze that baron boys

After wandering all over the house looking for them, Sam found Zemo and Bucky in some kind of—was it a game room? How was it that he kept finding rooms in this house he hadn't even known existed? In any case, there was a big pile of pillows on the floor, and Bucky was sprawled among the pillows with his head pillowed on Zemo's chest and one arm across him.

Zemo looked like he was asleep, but when Sam came in, he opened his eyes and mouthed, "Help."

Instead, Sam grabbed a couple of cushions from a nearby couch and came around to their other side. Zemo rolled a little to track him, but was brought up short when Bucky snugged him a little closer.

It was fascinating to see Bucky sleeping like that. Sam rarely saw him really deeply asleep, and he could see why Zemo hadn't tried to get out from under him, even if Zemo himself didn't.

Zemo made an annoyed noise when Sam cuddled in at his side.

"Oh, come on," Sam murmured, toying with a curl of Zemo's hair. It was doing its humidity thing again, which was adorable at least partly for how much it annoyed Zemo. "You know you don't actually want to go anywhere."

"How do you know?" Zemo muttered, twitching his head in a half-hearted attempt to get his hair out of Sam's fingers.

For answer, Sam threw an arm over him, above Bucky's, so now he was thoroughly pinned. "Guess you should've escaped while you had the chance."

"Yeah, I really should have," Zemo said under his breath, but when Sam shifted his weight so more of it was on top of him, all Zemo did was wriggle a little closer.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #helmut zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tropical fluff verse #general fluffs #squish that baron

[sholiofic]

My prompt for the fluffverse: Oeznik giving Sam and Bucky the shovel talk

See Tropical Fluff Verse tag for other installments. (There's no particular chronological order.)

---

It had been a constant, ever since they had been traveling with Zemo, that his butler showed up randomly wherever they went. Sam had never actually caught Zemo making contact with him, or figured out exactly what their method of communicating was; it could be something as normal as regular phone calls, or some completely bonkers Zemo thing, dead drops or burner phones or a private radio transmitter hidden in his teeth or messages written on tree bark in invisible ink, who knew.

In any case, they had arrived in the Colombia house to find the sheets turned down and fresh food in the refrigerator. There was a plausible non-Oeznik-related reason for this (a couple who lived nearby did regular caretaking on the place; they had already stopped in a couple of times to bring supplies and do light housekeeping). But nevertheless, Sam was deeply unsurprised when he came into the kitchen and found Oeznik restocking Zemo's liquor cabinet.

"Want a hand with that?" Sam asked as the elderly butler very slowly transferred one bottle at a time of assorted, probably very expensive cognac and Scotch from a padded crate to the cabinet.

"Very much appreciated," Oeznik said in his scratchy voice. He stepped back and then proceeded to give Sam specific directions about the placement of each individual bottle.

Bucky came in with a crate in each arm. "That's the last of it. Oh, hi, Sam."

"How much alcohol does one middle-aged terrorist need, exactly?" Sam asked. Those crates were bigger than this one.

Oeznik didn't appear put off by the phrasing. "The baron needs to be able to entertain. Those go to the wine cellar."

Bucky heaved a sigh and picked up the crates again.

"There's a wine cellar?" Sam said.

Oeznik pointed to the next bottle in the crate. "That one should be placed beside the fruit liqueurs. No, on the left."

Bucky was back a few minutes later, empty-handed. "Help you out here?"

"We're just finishing up," Sam said, arranging the last bottle to Oeznik's specifications and wondering how this was his life. "Where exactly is his baronial highness, anyway?"

"Napping in our—in his room, last I saw," Bucky said.

What he had started to say, Sam guessed, was "in our room," since they had all been sharing the master bedroom since the first few days they'd been here. It made Sam realize, with a slight drop in his stomach, that he had absolutely no idea how much Oeznik knew about the nature of their relationship, or how much it was safe for the guy to know, for that matter. 

Keeping his voice light, Sam said, "God forbid he should lift a finger to help. So you gonna just drop in, leave some booze, and head out again?"

Oeznik shrugged slightly as he carefully, at glacial speed, piled all of the shredded paper padding back inside the crate. "Might I prevail on you to carry this out for me, Mr. Barnes?"

Sam trailed them out into the afternoon heat and humidity, and found that Oeznik had arrived in a vintage delivery truck, pastel blue, in perfectly pristine condition, that looked like it dated to approximately the 1940s. Only a light spray of mud above the wheels marred its gleaming perfection. Bucky put the crate in the back with other empty crates, giving the vehicle an admiring look as he did so.

"You're just gonna leave without talking to him," Sam said.

"There's no need to. Arrangements have been made." Oeznik patted his pockets. "Ah." He found his keys and then turned to the two of them. "Might I have a word, gentlemen, before I go?"

"Yeah?" Sam said. Bucky looked up from an admiring inspection of the gently curving fenders of the truck.

Oeznik cleared his throat, smoothing down his lapels with small fussy movements. "The baron has been through a great deal of upheaval, tragedy, and loss in the past decade."

"Some of it self-inflicted," Sam said.

Oeznik didn't acknowledge this. Instead he went on in his light, cracked voice. "He has come to care for both of you, perhaps more than you know."

Well, way to make him feel like an asshole. Bucky was quiet, his metal hand resting on the truck fender. Sam said carefully, "Does he, er—talk to you about us?"

"I am not unobservant," Oeznik said. "I simply wanted to be sure that you both understand the baron does not give his trust or his ... consideration lightly. And—" His voice darkened a shade. "I will not see him hurt."

There was a brief pause as the butler opened the driver's side door, and Sam traded a swift glance with Bucky, who was wearing a slight frown. Then Sam said, "We aren't going to."

"See that you don't. I would hate to clean up the resulting mess."

"The, er, what?"

The car door slammed. Oeznik raised a hand in a palsied wave, and turned the engine over.

"Hey—"

The vintage delivery truck pulled away, navigating the turns of the house's sweeping crushed-shell drive. 

Sam looked at Bucky and said, "Was that a shovel talk?"

"I don't know what that is, but it sounded kind of threatening."

"How threatening, exactly? He's like ... ninety."

"I'm a hundred and seven, Sam."

"Shut it."

"Look, we both know he—"

"Yeah," Sam said shortly, because the Flag-Smashers' death was a can of worms they hadn't opened yet, and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to examine it closely.

"Yeah," Bucky said, his voice soft. "Anyway—"

"Ah, you're out here," said Zemo's voice from the shadowed doorway. They both turned. He was lounging in the entryway, wearing a loose bathrobe open nearly to the waist. His hair was tousled and sweat-dampened from sleep, and something in Sam's chest cracked a little.

Oeznik, I don't know if you'll believe me, but you've got nothing to worry about.

"Your butler was here," Bucky said.

"Yes, I know," Zemo said brightly. "There's fresh swordfish soaking in milk. It reduces the fishy taste, you know. Have you had it with mango?" His voice had the slight over-brightness when he was trying a little too hard to cover some emotion, which made Sam wonder what he was covering, exactly. But his eyes were soft, and the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was genuine.

"You're so weird," Sam said, but he went from the sun-splashed courtyard into the shadowed foyer, with Bucky on his heels. Zemo put up no resistance when Sam put an arm around his loosely robed waist and kissed him, then passed him neatly to Bucky.

"So that's a yes on swordfish," Zemo said, a little breathlessly, when Bucky was done with him.

"That's a yes on swordfish," Sam said. "And I think we've got a wide selection of booze to go with it, so if you make the drinks, I'll fire up the grill."

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #helmut zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #oeznik #tropical fluff verse

[sholiofic]

In the fluff verse, on a movie night, what do the boys watch?

There are a handful of movies they can reliably agree on:

Classic Hong Kong martial arts movies

The Lord of the Rings

Old Disney cartoons

Most movies are something that only or two of them are going to watch (probably), but the other(s) are just in it for the hair-petting and scritches. Sam will watch just about anything if it's action or military, has an incongruous fondness for arthouse dramas, and likes to brush up on his French and Arabic. Bucky might or might not be in the mood for the nostalgia movies of the era he grew up in, but he especially loves old Westerns and there are entire decades worth to catch up on—he and Steve used to take turns paying their way into the theater, let the other one in through a side door, and watch movies all day for a quarter. But Sam complains about the stereotyping, not without cause. Bucky, meanwhile, doesn't like the old Russian films that are Zemo's nostalgia viewing, the films and cartoons that Sokovia used to get in the 80s. Too many bad memories there. Zemo, for his part, can't stand anything that smacks of American imperialism, which is nearly everything Sam likes to watch.

And yet, there's something drowsily appealing about just sprawling on the couch on a lazy afternoon, in a room drenched in stripes of golden sun coming in through the drawn blinds, getting touched and petted while vaguely tuning in and out on whatever's on the TV, whether it's playing a French drama or one of Bucky's black-and-white Westerns or the local Spanish-language TV channels that none of them can really understand.

And every once in a while the TV, or its various streaming channels, flings up something really traumatic—a biopic on the Sokovia war, a WWII drama, an Afghanistan-era war movie that tramples all over Sam's memories of Riley—and then there will be a hasty hunt through the couch cushions for the remote, tuning the TV to something entirely neutral (a local news channel, talking over the day's events in Spanish) or cartoons or something, anything to just give a little background noise while the cuddle pile on the cushions squirms a little closer for some extra hair-petting and the warmth of relaxing into someone else, the slowly unwinding of tension as they ground themselves on knowing they're not there but here, warm and held and safe.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #helmut zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tropical fluff verse

[sholiofic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson/Helmut Zemo Characters: Helmut Zemo, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel) Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Oblivious, Pining Series: Part 3 of Reverse Zemo Paroleverse Summary: 

More of the roleswap AU with Colonel Zemo and his prisoners. It's somewhere around the anniversary of the Battle of Sokovia, and Zemo is coping as usual, which is to say, not at all. Luckily(?), Sam and Bucky's methods for dealing with this are, if possible, even worse.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #(sorta) #reverse zemo parole universe

[myckicade]

I came here from ao3 to tell you I love your Sam&Bucky&Zemo story!! ❤️

Oh, goodness! Thank you, so much! I am beyond thrilled to know it is being enjoyed. :) . I appreciate you stopping in to tell me! You are too kind. <3 . Do take care, dear!

#Anonymous Ask #Anonymous #Rubble and Sin #SamBuckyZemo #BaronWinterFalcon #WingterBaron #MCU #Marvel #Fanfiction #Review

[sholiofic]

Okay idk if this is enough for a prompt but in Daniels recent pics from Colombia you can see his hair is getting wavy from the humidity and maybe you can incorporate that into a fic? or SamBucky just marveling at how soft Zemo's hair is 🥺

OMG, this is too cute 😂

This fic has the exact energy of this fanart (but curlier). Artist’s rebloggable fanart post here.

---

"Curly," Bucky murmured, reaching a hand down to comb his fingers through Zemo's hair.

"Get off," Zemo retorted, batting at his hand, but not that hard.

They were hiding out at what was apparently one of the Zemo family's South American properties. The place had sandstone walls, a colonnaded porch draped in vines, a pool—and also world-class humidity, which was turning Zemo's fine, light hair into a nest of curls.

Zemo was visibly (and, in Bucky's opinion, hilariously) frustrated with it, and his desperate attempts to gel it into place only resulted in curls springing free one by one to dangle, sweat-limp, in the humidity.

"Are you petting Zemo?" Sam asked, coming out to the shaded poolside pavilion with his hands full of drinks. He set them down on the patio table. "Because I want a turn."

"Get off." Again there was the barest hint of protest. Sam ruffled Zemo's hair, and it promptly gave up on any pretense of staying in its gelled waves and drooped into his face.

"You could have a nice practical haircut like the rest of us," Bucky said, running his hand through his own hair. "But no, you gotta style it up."

"Practical haircut?" Sam said. "You? Buck, you look like a startled hedgehog in this weather."

"You do, actually," Zemo agreed.

"Fine, there is one practical haircut in this hacienda and it's not mine."

"It's also not a hacienda," Zemo said. "There's a very specific history—"

"Shut up and drink your tropical umbrella drink," Sam said. "I googled it specially for you."

Zemo eyed it, but he reached up and took it. He was sitting poolside with his feet in the pool water and his back resting lightly against Bucky's knees. "I should inform you that I'm not exactly an umbrella drink person," he said.

"Really? It's like the one fancy thing you won't drink." Bucky picked up his off the patio table. "I'll drink your umbrella drink, Sam."

"It's got about four shots of alcohol in it, even though it doesn't taste like it." Sam sipped his. "I don't care how high your alcohol tolerance is, you'll get completely hammered on like three of these."

"Really," Zemo said thoughtfully. He sipped. Bucky was playing with his hair again, sifting his fingers through the soft, twining strands.

"Worst assignment ever," Sam said.

"I know," Bucky said. He sipped his drink, and petted Zemo's hair, and Zemo leaned back against his knees, melting slowly. "It's the actual worst. I might not survive."

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