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writteninsaturn · 2 years

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stolen glances [helmut zemo x fem!reader]

summary| ✏ you have loved Helmut since you both were kids, so you couldn’t resist yourself when proposal arrived from the Zemo family for your hand in marriage, even if Helmut doesn’t feel the same way about you.

warnings| ✏ angst, fluff, smut, inaccurate marvel reference (very inaccurate, I just used marvel names to my liking), inaccurate nobility and morganatic marriage rules reference (I know nothing about noblemen), idiots to lovers, arrange marriage, pining explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering.- 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

word count| ✏ 9.1k *click the bold words for little visuals regarding the outfits. thought it’d be fun.

a/n| ✏ this one’s been long time coming. And I feel like my writing was a little all over the place so I sincerely apologise for that. But I do hope that you enjoy even if it’s very little, you have some enjoyment while reading this. But yeah once again, hope the warnings are appropriate, if you do think it needs a few more, let me know and I’ll add them. Feedbacks are always welcome. I will try my best with the next one and will try and make sure it doesn’t take a year again before I post another piece. I hope you can leave a like and maybe even a reblog. I appreciate you all so much.

It was quite a common thing for noble families to have arranged marriages rather than love marriages back in the days. However, such traditions were considered quite backdated and not followed anymore. I mean why should such outdated customs be followed, one shouldn’t be told who to love, they should have the freedom to choose. And arrange marriage in the 21st century? Anyone would think one must be joking.

So, when the news of Sokovia’s most eligible bachelor, Baron Helmut Zemo’s marriage being arranged to you, the Countess of Symkaria, was announced, a wave of shock and heartbreak fell over the land. Ok, more jealousy and less heartbreak perhaps. You see while the Baron was single, there was hope for all the ladies, but with the announcement, all hopes and dreams came crashing down.

Despite the mass disappointment of the ladies of the land, one couldn’t say that they were surprised by the union. Or maybe even a merger perhaps. It is only natural the Baron would agree to marry someone of a high stature, and it must’ve been a strategic and political move to marry someone of a higher nobility standing than him. That’s what the people talked about, and that’s what you thought too.

You see, you’ve known the Baron since you both were young. Whenever your family visited Sokovia, you stayed in Castle Zemo and when the Zemo family visited Symkaria, they stayed at Y/L/N Manor. Both your parents were friends from well before you two were born. However, that never raised the idea that you two would be getting married. Both your parents wanted to give you both full freedom to marry who you wished to. This was mainly why you were a little surprised when your parents told you that the Zemos wished for your hand in marriage to Helmut.

Despite growing up with Helmut, you two never grew up to be quite as close as your parents. As kids, you two always played together, but the as you grew, not seeing each other for long periods of time before meeting again, both of you grew into your own worlds. And while your infatuation and love for Helmut grew with you, Helmut was much more reclusive, busy with his education and learning the workings of his land and his people from his father.

Every year you managed to take a trip to Sokovia, you’d immerse yourself in the day to day life of the castle. Not behaving like a guest, but a part of the family. The family treated you as such also, Hilda Zemo being like your second mother. Everyone in the Zemo Castle was especially fond of you and your antics. You could often be found in the kitchen, helping (eating whatever you could find) in the kitchen. And no matter how much, Idel, the aging cook, scolded you, she knew it was useless and that you would go around doing your own thing. And if not in the kitchen you were with the younger housemaids, who you’ve befriended over time. And if you weren’t found creating ruckus around the castle, you were in some corner either with Hilda or Heinrich, just chatting away.

And no matter what you were doing around the household, running around helping the house helps in the kitchen, or having a heart to heart with Hilda, or just discussing world politics with Heinrich, whenever Helmut walked in the room, you became mute. Everyone in the household took notice of that real quick, and would tease you about it too.

However, when Hilda took notice of how you act in the presence of Helmut, she became worried. Hilda saw you as her daughter, and because how close you were to the family, she did not want to see you get hurt. So one afternoon, while you two were having tea and playing with the residential kittens in one of the balcony in the castle, she decided to bring up the situation. “Y/N love, what is going on between you and Helmut?”

This question startles you, because you genuinely thought you were doing a great job of concealing your feelings for the man. Avoiding eye contact, and giving all your undivided attention to the little snow looking kitten aptly named Snow, the Zemo house pet, you answer, “Nothing’s going on Hilma you know nothing’s going on. We barely talk.” You always said how she was like your second ma, and so, she became Hilma.

“Lovie I see how you look at him. I am worried about you. You know I can’t force him to be with you don’t you?” Hilda spoke softly.

You only nodded slowly, replying in an almost whisper, “I wouldn’t want that. I would be gutted to know that he was with me because he had to be and not because he wanted to be.” You tried to master up the best smile you could, which, if Hilda was being honest, was quite lousy, looked up at her and spoke again in the same low voice, “I just want him to be happy. Be with a person who would make him happy. As cheesy as it sounds, his happiness will bring me happiness.”

Hilda could hear the heaviness in your tone and could only let out a sympathetic chuckle as she reached out to cup your cheek with her right palm, rubbing her thumb over your cheek gently. “My little Y/N is all grown up.” You close your eyes hoping to hold back your slightly teary eyes from dropping any tear, as you lean into Hilda’s motherly touch. Despite your attempt, a tear escaped your closed eyes. Hilda gently wiped away the tear before pulling you in for a warm embrace, whispering in your ear, “You deserve all the love in the world my dear. And while that may not be my foolish Helmut, I know you will find your Count.” She gives your temple a firm kiss and rubs your back before letting you go once she is sure you are a little more stable.

The little emotional confrontation with Hilda happened when you were still a young lady in your teen years. And while you knew what Hilda spoke was true and you may never be with Helmut, that did not stop you from doting on Helmut. And over the years, your love for Helmut only grew despite the unescapable tragic end that it would reach. So imagine your surprise when the proposal for your marriage arrived from the Zemo family.

Your parents were more than happy about this union and was over the moon when you also agreed to the proposal. Invitation was sent for your family to come to the Zemo family for the festivities and a grand function for the engagement. In your heart, you were convinced that Zemo was not marrying you for love. Being a countess, you received many proposals from noblemen all around the world. You rejected them all, waiting for your Baron to marry first. Holding on to the final drop of hope. So despite being so very elated when the Baron chose you to be his baroness, you knew this marriage was to solidify the ally ship between the two nations and that you wouldn’t become the baroness but Helmut would become the count. So whether it was to climb the social ladder, or to formally become allies, you were happy to oblige to your Baron’s wishes, even if it meant that he would never love you.

When you and your family made your way to Sokovia, in preparation for the festivities, you were greeted by a large crowd. The word had gotten around that Helmut was to be engaged, and despite the green monster that had taken over the region, the secrecy of who was engaged to the nation’s most eligible bachelor kept everyone on their feet. The funny thing was, you weren’t much of a secret as everyone thought you to be. You grew in front of the nation as much as Helmut did and they all knew you equally. So when you were the first to step out of the car, and people got the first glance of their Baron’s to be, knowing whispers erupted amongst the crowd. It seemed very trivial now to even expect anyone but you to be stepping out of that car.

The people of Sokovia loved you. So when the news of your arrival as the one to be engaged to the Baron spread across the land like wildfire, all but few jealous noblewomen were joyous over the occasion and the choice. In the lead up to the engagement ceremony, you and Helmut were invited to various different events together, to get the people accustomed to seeing you two as an unit and also to give you two some more time to spend together before the official engagement. From charity events to dinner party hosted by the prime minister, at every high society event leading up to the engagement ceremony, you and the Baron attended hand in hand.

It was at one such event, your love for Helmut grew, if that was even possible still that is. The event was a fundraising for disadvantaged children. With Sokovia being a developing nation, not all children had equal opportunity, and Helmut felt very strongly for the wellbeing of the children of his land. So much so, that he was a large benefactor to the charity, so he was invited as the guest of honour for the evening.

While the original invite list did not include you, with the event being held annually and the invite having been sent out well in advance, whether or not you could be accommodated to really wasn’t up for debate. With you having attending so many events back to back, most of the outfits you had brought with you had been worn, and while no way were you a diva who never wears the same outfit twice, there was an expectation for the formal events, particularly being attended within such short intervals, that the outfits seem to have not been worn before. And so you were in complete panic mode on what to wear for tonight. With how hectic things had been, you didn’t even realise earlier that all your gowns had been worn, so you couldn’t even get an outfit prepared and fitted in time. To be fair, you weren’t prepared to be making appearance at so many events during your visit and thought 7 gowns were more than enough.

As if the gods above have heard your panic and prayers and answered your call, because as you enter your room, venting your urgency and frustration to your mother who was remaining annoyingly calm and being of no help, you spot what you can only assume is a dress inside a garment bag containing the House Insignia, with a velvet box placed next to the bag and on the floor a box which you believe is possible footwear. You turn to your mother as a smile starts to etch itself onto your mouth, “this is why you were so quiet and just watched me freak out? You already had everything figured out?”

Your mother chuckles, before replying, “I may have been aware of something before you my child but no this is not my doing.” It is then that you realise that a little note is left on top of the outfit. You step forward and pick up the slip of paper and written on it simply was “For tonight. Z.” And you couldn’t help but smile at that. Even though the note was so simple and nothing special, to you it held great importance.

You opened the garment bag and the first thing you spot is the beautiful sheer high neckline with golden details almost looking like twigs. The further you open the bag, the more of the golden branches are revealed leading all the way down and once you’ve opened the bag completely, two little golden deer are revealed at the bottom of the dress. You run your finger over the stitch work, admiring the playful deer on the dress, loving the dress at the first glance. Your mum just leaned against the door and watched as delight took over your face.

You then reach for the shoe box, opening it to reveal the most beautiful pair of golden heels, vines and pearls wrapped around the heel. You kind of just stayed sitting there admiring the ensemble. Your mother chuckled again before calling out to you, “Ok dear that’s enough sitting around, now how about you get ready, it’ll be time for you and Helmut to leave soon.” And with that, she left the room, leaving you to get ready.

At 7pm, when it was time for you to leave, a maid made their way into your room informing you that Helmut was ready and waiting. You nodded in acknowledgement before gathering up your gown, slipping on the beautiful pair of heels, before heading towards the staircase. As you stood at the top of the stairs, you saw you Baron at the bottom, fixing his cufflinks, looking handsome as ever. You took a moment to yourself to admire him as he remained unaware. And slowly as you started to descend the stairs, the sound of your heels captured his attention, looking up the stairs to look at you, and just as his eyes locked at you, he froze. Now it was him who was admiring how ethereal you looked, while you were far too busy looking at the stairs as you took each step, to concentrate and make sure that you don’t trip.

As you descend down to the final few steps, Helmut shakes himself out of his faze and reaches his hand out for you to take, like the gentleman he is. Sensing his hand in front of you, you take your eyes away from the steps and to his hand, going to grab it. And despite all the caution you took, out of nervousness and excitement, you managed to foolishly misplace your foot and trip forward. For Helmut, it was almost an immediate reaction, throwing his other hand forward to rest flat against your tummy to hold you steady, landing you face to face with him, noses almost touching, and your eyes clenched shut. Helmut takes his time letting his eyes roam over your face, a smile reaching the corner of his lips before he speaks up in his gentle, husky voice, “Careful countess, we wouldn’t want you getting into an accident under my watch now would we?”

Feeling his breath against your lips, your force yourself to open your eyes, his lips being the first thing you see. You awkwardly let out a shaky breath before you gain your footing again with his support, before replying, “Thank you Helmut.”

Helmut only nods, and leads you down the final few step, letting go of your hand only for him to guide that hand to the small of your back in a protective manner, leading you out the front door and to the car.

The driver was waiting outside the grand entrance of the castle. Zemo subtly waved at the driver to move away from the door, which you didn’t pick up on. As the driver quickly scuttled away, Zemo led you to the car and as you lowered to get in the car, he moved his free hand to guard the top of the car from hitting your head. This you did notice and as you were getting in, let your head bump a little up so that you could have his hand brush against the top of your head. Zemo’s hand, however, tensed, worried that you may have hurt yourself, and as soon as you are in the car, he brushes his hand silently over your head almost like petting a pup. He then goes around to get in the car as well.

The entire car ride was silent, both of you stealing quick glances towards each other under your lashes, none the wiser to each other. As the car comes to a halt at the venue, Zemo hurriedly steps out of the car, not waiting for his driver, and walks around to grab your door and once again extends his hand to help you out. As you step out, Zemo brings your left hand to loop around his right, and his left hand resting gently on the back of your palm as he leads you down the carpet led to the ballroom. As you two walk down hand in hand, flashes go off from both sides, capturing the most anticipated couple. Zemo stops half way down the path, taking you by surprise, as he holds you close to him. You turn to him as if to question him “what is it?” but Zemo simply smiles with adoring eyes staring at you, making for another perfect photo opportunity for the eager media. And once Zemo is sure that there is more than enough photo of Zemo’s gaze on you for tomorrow’s tabloid, he simply shakes his head and continues to lead you inside, leaving you completely confused.

Throughout the night, you were next to Zemo like an obedient partner. There was no rule or clause that required you to be with Zemo constantly, you simply chose to be with him as he introduced you to many influential people. However, as the night went on, you happened to grow more and more detached from the political conversations that were taking place between Zemo and other men. Thankfully at that point, you see the children who are taken care by the charity being brought in to join for the dinner part of the function. You decide that is a perfect time to excuse yourself from the circle of elites and quickly make your way towards the group of about 10 kids ranging from toddlers to teens, who seems to be much more approachable than the very adult conversations that were happening around you.

Just as you reach the kids who were brought in by who you can only assume is their warder, you squat down to meet the kids on eyelevel, a wide smile spreading across your face as you introduce yourself to the group, as you ask them for their names. While most remained quiet, slightly intimidated by the unfamiliar surrounding, it is one of the young ones, a young boy with mischief in his eyes and a toothless grin gracing his lips who decides to introduce himself first, “Hi ma’am my name is Thor, I’m six!”

And before you can reply to “Thor”, you hear the warden clearing her throat before saying, “What did I say about fibbing Tim?”

To which Tim lets out a huff and replies, “Not to tell them. Sorry ma’am, my name is Timofie.”

You give Tim a comforting smile and repeat after him, “Timofie, meaning god’s honour, you are as good as Thor sweet boy.” To this, Timofie lights up and jumps forward to give you a hug as big as he could manage. Despite being small, the force he came at you with took you by surprise, and while you managed to wrap your arms around the little boy, your heels weren’t prepared for the little stumble, causing your foot to trip.

Helmut had been keeping an eye on you from the moment you left his side and when he spotted you with the kids, he also excused himself from the group to slowly approach you so he could hear your interaction with the kids better. He was near you when he noticed the little stumble and in a split moment he took one quick large step to stand direct behind you, to be your support and stop you from falling. You reached back with one hand to make yourself stable, your hand going to grab the support that was holding you steady from behind, Helmut’s leg. Once you were steady, you looked up to see who was the one to save you and as you looked up, you saw Helmut towering over you, looking at you with concern, asking “Are you ok Y/N? You really don’t seem to be too steady on your foot today.” There was a teasing tone to his voice as well.

You looked back down, your cheeks heated from the embarrassment of falling twice in Helmut’s arms in one night. “Thank you, Helmut, for saving me again.” You remember the little boy still in your arm and attempt to stand up with the little guy. Helmut immediately helps you from behind, pulling you up slightly so it’s easier for you.

The little boy now leaning his head on your shoulder, turns to look at Helmut. He then leans in your ear and whispering rather loud, defeating the purpose of a whisper, “Is he your prince?”

You turn to him with a questioning look, “Prince?”

“You are a princess so he must be prince.” Tim said as a matter of fact which caused you to let out a little chuckle.

“I’m not a princess sweet boy,” you say to him as you caress his cheek with your thumb.

Helmut from next to you surprises you when he speaks up, “yes she is the princess and I am her prince.” Timofie once again turning to him at this with a smile of admiration at the idea of being in presence of royalty, which the kids don’t know all too much about. All the other kids are now surrounding Helmut asking random questions and grabbing at his hands. Helmut leads the group of kids to the bottom of the staircase, signalling you to follow him. You both take seat at the bottom of the stairs, Timofie remaining in your lap while the rest of the kids are surrounding you two.

At Helmut’s introduction the kids get very excited to meet the man which the entire country has heard about, while not everyone has the privilege of meeting. The kids get involved in conversations and banter and even little games with Helmut. The once confident boy Timofie, now shying away at the competition which Helmut poses. While you take your time to admire Helmut with all the kids, you go back to your little world you’ve created with Timofie and a few other much young ones who are much too infatuated by you. Helmut from time to time turns to you, watching you playing with the youngest ones of the group, admiring how you are with the little one, unbeknownst to him, you are doing the same.

The entire night was spent like that for you two, with the kids, separating only during the actual auction, but finding your ways back to the kids during dinner, having dinner at the same table as the kids.

The charity event really caused a buzz around the nation, photos of you and Helmut with the kids not only plastered across every newspaper and magazine, but was also circulating on social media. You two as a couple was capturing the nation’s heart. Following the event, you had a new found love for Helmut. Which is a strange thing to say because Helmut always had your heart. But seeing Helmut with kids, that made you feel something in the pit of your stomach you never felt before. And the idea of a loveless marriage started a lot less bearable than it did before.

In the lead, up to your and Helmut’s engagement party, meeting between the two of you started to become a lot scarcer. You were busy with helping out with organising the event while Helmut was kept busy with official duties. So much so that you started to miss Helmut.

Slowly but surely, the day of your engagement party arrived and you had dress set in advance for this event. And more than anything, more than the party more than the people, more than the engagement, you were looking forward to seeing Helmut after so long, excited to have him next to you. You put on your beautiful emerald gown, a diamond necklace borrowed from Hilda and a pair of silver heels to finish off your look.

Once ready, you decided to head down to see how things were, if everything was organised before the guests came. Hilda told you that everything was being taken care of and that you did not need to run around in your gown, but you couldn’t be kept calm, it was your form of distraction until you could see Helmut.

Helmut finally did show up, before the guests also, you sensed his presence the minute he stepped into the ballroom, turning immediately to catch him looking handsome and elegant as ever, walking in as he fixes his hair. You see him spotting his mother and going to her immediately, b-lining away from you. You could see the two talk and laugh and perhaps a little scolding from Hilda, you couldn’t quite tell. You truly loved the mother son pair and while you were upset that Helmut failed to acknowledge your presence on such a night, it filled your heart to see how he was with his mum and you couldn’t help but think what a good father he would be, a possibility you might not have the good fortune of seeing or being a part of.

As it neared the time of arrival for the guests, Helmut finally made his way to you, “Come on, we should greet the guests” and that was all he said as he lead you to the entrance, a hand on your waist. You two greeted each and every guest with large smiles, a large part of it having to do with how close Helmut was to you. Helmut talking to some people he knew personally, you continuing to greet as well, Helmut’s remaining around your waist the entire time and you also took the opportunity to just lean against him, standing your body completely flush against him. All the guests gushing at the loving couple as they came in.

You both headed in once it seemed like most have arrived, heading in to mingle with the guests. Once again, Helmut failing to give you any attention, busying himself with the guests. It was Helmut’s parents who called upon the two of you through the microphone for the ring exchange. Helmut looked around for you as you already slowly started to make your way to the makeshift stage and people gathered around one side of the ballroom. Instead of heading straight, Helmut started to walk in your direction, catching up to you as you both make it to the front of the room together. You almost jump a little as Helmut reached your side, not expecting him there.

Rather than you two making any speeches, it was both your parents making the speeches. About how excited they were to finally become family, how their kids are finally all grown up, how they wanted this since you two were kids. And you managed to maintain a steady smile throughout the speeches, but your excitement for the engagement had been dwindling throughout the week leading to the day and also throughout the night as Helmut continued his cold shoulder to you for god knows what reason.

As the speeches came to a close, your mum handed to you the ring, which you put on Helmut’s finger absentmindedly and Helmut’s father handed the ring to him which he put on your finger ever so lightly, leaving a kiss on the back of your hand and heat rose to your cheek, your body reacting as it always does to any form of affection, pretend or not, from Helmut. The crowd erupts into loud cheers and congratulations throughout the ballroom. As you two stepped down from the steps, people came around to congratulate you personally. And as things died down again with the announcement of dinner being served, you managed to slip out of the room without anyone noticing.

Or so you thought. After being congratulated by friends, family, business partners alike, Helmut came to notice that he couldn’t spot you anywhere around. Throughout the night, whenever he scanned his eyes, his eyes picked you out amongst the sea of crowd immediately. I mean it’s hard to miss the emerald hugging your body so perfectly from back or front. As soon as Helmut had laid his eyes on you that evening, he started to feel constricted in his pants. He had missed you all week, busy with work, trying to clear out his schedule before the wedding so that he can help his wife to be with the planning.

But as soon as he saw you, he had to hold himself back, because he knew if he was to greet you he wouldn’t be able to control himself, and so he goes to only space he knows, straight to his mum. Helmut, distracted as his eyes remained on you, bumps into his mother as he reaches her. He quickly grabs onto his mother as he steadies himself and his mum sputtering out an apology as he quickly looks at her in embarrassment. Hilda looks at her son with a knowing smirk, “Is everything ok son?” and he can only nod and busies himself talking to his mother.

He was all too aware of his self-control, or lack there of, with how tempting you looked tonight and he actively worked to avoid you except for when it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t realise that in the process of keeping himself under control, he was driving you to self-doubt. Helmut’s search proved to be futile as he found you nowhere in the ball room, asking his parents and your mum, none being able to answer. He even asked few of the wait staff who were serving drinks around the room, and the only answer they could give was that they saw you leaving the ballroom.

Helmut followed their vague instruction and headed out looking for you. He jogged around skimming outside first. He peaks through the front door, not finding you in the front porch, went to the door leading to the backyard, not finding you there either or anywhere in the bottom floor. It really seemed silly to be roaming around such a large mansion so he stood by the steps and tried to think about where you could be. And his mind could only think of one spot, the common balcony upstairs where you spend time nearly every day with his mum or even alone reading a book. He’s spotted you there plenty of time in the passing and always would stop in his way even if for a few seconds to just admire you.

He quickly makes his way upstairs to the balcony and lets out a sigh of relief when he can see your silhouette in the darkness, in the balcony. He steps into the balcony and softly calls out to you, “Y/N… What are you doing here, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You quickly wipe at your eyes when you hear his voice before turning to meet him face to face, “Oh Helmut, what are you doing here? Did you need something?” Your voice sounding a little hoarse.

“What’s wrong? Why does your voice sound heavy? Have you been crying?” He steps closer to you, hands reaching out to touch at the corner of your eyes to inspect your face to which you only move your face to the side before letting out an almost mocking chuckle.

“Let’s not pretend that you actually care Helmut, there’s no one here. Did you need something?” This time your voice sounded a little more aggressive.

“Yes I needed my fiancé, I saw that she was missing from my side and I was missing her.”

At this confession you couldn’t help but look at him in disbelief, “Missing your fiancé? Oh you’ve got to be kidding me right now.” You let out an exasperated huff. “I’ve been trying to get noticed by you the whole evening only to get ignored and now you say you miss me?” Your tears are now freely falling. “I don’t know what I ever did to you Helmut to be mocking me like this. I know this situation isn’t ideal, I know that you don’t love me but I do. I love you so much, have since we were kids. But I never had any hopes or expectations. I didn’t know that a situation would arise where I could marry you but when it did, I couldn’t help it, I became selfish. Maybe that was my mistake, maybe I shouldn’t have been greedy and I am sorry for that but please, spare me my feelings. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” At this point you have completely let go of yourself, unable to control the sobs that are coming out.

Helmut reaches both his arms for your shoulder to bring you into a hug to comfort you, unsure of how to handle the situation, never seeing you quite like this, so emotional and speaking your mind. You violently shrug him off again, wiping angrily at your eyes, mad at yourself for letting yourself go like this in front of Helmut, before you speak up again. “I know what the answer is already but I need to hear it from you. I need to hear from you what this is, what we are. If you are marrying me for the alliance, and the status, I will be that for you, I will be by your side, smile at the cameras, push away my heart’s fluttering somewhere deep down that I even forget my heart exists. I can do that for you, I just need to hear it from you, so that I don’t hold any false hope.” You finally look at him trying to smile through the tear, “I promise you I will be an ideal countess for the people, a nice trophy wife for the cameras and events, and the ideal wife to you. I just need to hear you say that there is no possibility for me to ever become your baroness. Say it to my face and I will learn to be ok with it.” With all that you wanted to say now completely out in the open, you leans against the balcony railing, sliding down, kneeling on the floor, your whole body shaking from your cries as you are kneeling by Helmut’s feet now.

Helmut couldn’t take it anymore, your ramble had caught him completely off guard, having no idea that was how you were feeling, which was why his reaction was so delayed, hearing you speak what you had to say while he remained stunned silent. Finally feeling your body move by his feet, he is now also leaning down, cupping your wet face with his palm to lift your face up to face him. You keep your eyes shut out of complete shame of becoming so vulnerable. Helmut takes a moment to just look at your face, even as pain is etched across your face, your beauty radiates far brighter. Helmut leans into your face, unable to help himself, first kissing at the corner of your lips where your tears were gathering, your eyes immediately opening in complete surprise, and at that moment, Helmut captures your lips between his, both his hands coming to delicately cup your face as his thumbs are wiping at under your eyes at an attempt to wipe away your tears, now crouching down to be face to face with you.

Caught in a trance, and in the comfort of Helmut’s warm hands, you let him kiss you, but as soon as he goes to deepen the kiss, trying to force his tongue past your lips, you come to your senses, pushing away at his shoulder with all your might before speaking out a little too loud, “What are you doing? Stop it!” You shake your head as, starting to cry again, your body jerking, “I don’t need this Helmut, I don’t need your sympathy affection.”

Helmut grows a little frustrated at this, and pinches your cheek to force you to look at him again and this time, forcefully pushing his lips against yours and immediately shoving his lips

Helmut grows a little frustrated at that, forcing you to look up as he pinches your cheek between his hand as he brings your body flush against his with his other hand around your waist, “You fool, you absolute fool! How do you still not get it?” He drops his hand from your waist down to your exposed leg through the slit. Guiding it slowly up with feathery touch as he moves to kiss at your neck. Unsure of what Helmut meant, you completely melt at his touch. And as you feel his creep to the inside of your thigh, riding further up heading to your core, your find yourself moving your knees apart, exposing your core to him. And as his fingers finds his way to your covered and slightly damp centre you decide that you don’t know and don’t want to know what Helmut means but you are going to let him have his way with you, however he wants, and whatever it means at the end, you are prepared to risk it all to have him at least once.

As Helmut is kissing your neck, you wrap one hand around his neck. He uses his fingers to move aside your panties, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, pressing lightly at your nub. He keeps running his fingers up your slit, picking up the speed, and flicking at your clit every once in a while as he is sucking at your where your neck meets your chest. All you can do is hold him tight against you, or more so reassuring yourself that all this isn’t just another one of your dreams.

Once Helmut feel his fingers are lathered enough in your wetness, he slips it into your craving whole, three fingers at once. And immediately, with the resistance he felt on his fingers from the tightness of your walls and with and the way your head lulled back and a wince etched in your face, Helmut was sensing that this might be your first time and speaks, “Sorry did I hurt you?”

You being your stubborn self, shake your head no, afraid that if you let on that this is your first time, he will stop and you are not prepared to have this end so soon. Helmut picks up on your lie however, and he carefully pulls his fingers out, stopping when just the tip of his fingers are in you, pulling out two and going back in with just one. Making sure that once the finger is inside, he moves it around and curls it, feeling around your inside, the foreign sensation making you terribly weak at your knees. Now, even more carefully, Helmut adds two more fingers, picking up his speed, and rubbing at your clit with his thumb. At this, you let a loud mewl, Helmut immediately crashing his lips with yours again to swallow your moan.

Holding you flush against himself, Helmut can feel your lower stomach quiver as your mouth opens up against his, drool slipping past both your lips from the intense kiss. Helmut can tell that you are nearing your climax. Your head slips on his shoulder when you feel his fingers moving rapidly, you bite on to his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming as the climax takes over you. Helmut starts to slow down his fingers as he helps you ride out your orgasm. Helmut slowly You hide your face in his shoulder out of embarrassment for cumming so fast and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Helmut is confused at that, “what for?”

And you are feel a little flustered at his question, stuttering out, “y-you know, for, like, cumming, like, really fast.” You were having a hard time articulating sentences, due to both embarrassment and the recent high. Helmut can’t help but chuckle, which does not help with your humiliation.

Without another word, Helmut abruptly pulls out his fingers, which brings you back to awareness, and you push yourself slowly away from Helmut, still on your knees, trying to regain balance. Helmut brings his fingers to his lips, licking each finger while looking at you. When you catch on to what he is doing, your eyes flicker to everywhere else to avoid his eyes.

As Helmut finishes licking his fingers, letting out in the most teasing tone “yum, I think I need some more, haven’t had my dessert yet.” As he pushes your tummy, catching your off guard as you fall back on your bum in the most ungraceful way, as your leg folds out as you try to balance yourself, with your arms falling behind you on the floor as you go to hold yourself up. Helmut laughs a little at the fall, pushing you further back by your shoulder, this time much more gently, until you are laying flat on your back.

Utterly confused by what’s going on, you let Helmut manhandle you to the positon of his liking, but can’t help the arch in your back due to the coolness of the tiled floor. He pulls both your feet out from under you, stretching them out, one on each side of his waist, your one leg completely exposed to him due to the slit, a bit of your pussy also peaking out. You can feel the cool night breeze against your exposed pussy, which is still a little sensitive after Helmut’s treatment of them.

You can feel Helmut shuffling around between your thighs, moving your dress up and to the side to have your pussy completely exposed to him. However, that doesn’t last long as your thighs instinctively shut, cheeks feeling warm even in the cold night. At this point you can’t tell whether it’s due to all the previous activities of the night or the current. Helmut does not appreciate how your thighs close up, obstructing his perfect view, and is pushing apart your thighs open, and landing a harsh slap on the inside of your thigh, far too close to your pussy, as the tips of his fingers brush against your pussy lips.

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight countess.” He speaks as he takes off his blazer, throwing it off to the side and is laying himself down so that his face can hover over your bottom half. Placing soft kisses along your hipbone, he continues to pepper little kisses all the way to the top of your mound. “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of your all night.” Another little kiss, a little closer to your clit. Helmut is looking up at you, only to find you already looking down at him with cautious and confused eyes, anticipating, his next actions, his next words, the lower tummy shaking a little as your breath quickens a little. “And you’d be an absolute fool to think, that all that I am doing is out of anything other than complete and utter desire.” He speaks as he keeps his eyes trained on your eyes, and he thumbs at your clit, pressing down on it before rubbing harsh circles. You bite down on your lips, your one hand going up to grab on to the railing of the balcony, gripping it so tight your knuckles go white. He can see you are getting wetter with every sentence he uttered, he leans down running his tongue from the bottom of your pussy all the way to the tip, sucking your clit into his mouth so harshly that it almost feels like a vacuum on your clit. Your arm flies to your mouth to keep your moans from getting too loud. “And judging from how much sugar you have for me my dear countess,” he continues to speak against your pussy that his voice comes out a little muffled, “I’d say you desire me just as much.”

He gives your pussy another wet, sloppy, open mouthed kiss, and is reaching both his hands up as his nose digs into your pussy, bumping against the nub of your clit, causing your whole body to shudder, as both his hands are reaching out to grab both your hand, one hand unclenching your hand from the railing, another being pulled away from your face, as he brings both your hands between your legs, leading them to his head, “I’m at your control Countess, guide me as you please.” And you instinctively grip on his hair lightly, feeling him take another lick of your sleek.

Helmut lets go of your hands as his hands goes to hook around your thighs. He darts his tongue out, dipping it right into your wet and inviting hole. Your grip on his hair immediately tightens. Helmut can’t help but smile a little at that, as he thrusts his tongue out and then right back in, but you were far too drowning in the pleasure to notice the smile against your pussy. Helmut moves his face around, nuzzling further into your pussy as the tip of his nose keeps brushing against your clit, causing you to jolt up and further into Helmut’s lapping tongue. He is swirling around his tongue, savouring all that is running out of your pussy. And as he moves his mouth up, and attaches himself to your already sensitive clit, giving it few harsh sucks, you become undone in his mouth. Your fingers grip onto his hair tight, holding for your dear life, pushing his face further into your climaxing pussy, as his tongue helps you ride out another high.

Helmut can feel you quivering against his tongue, but he does not stop, licking you clean of every last drop. He brings one of his hand from around your leg to your spent pussy, moving his mouth slowly only to replace it with his fingers, gently rubbing up and down your folds, in a soothing manner. And you can’t help but twitch now and then as you are taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, as your fingers loosen on Helmut’s head, now just resting in his matted and messy hair in an almost caress.

It takes you quite a bit of time before you are coming back to your complete consciousness, all the while Helmut laid between your thighs, placing gentle kiss on your soft, warm thigh every now and then, fingers still running ever so slowly up and down your fold, with Helmut’s gaze moving from your used pussy to your face, back down to your pussy, smile never leaving his face. Once becoming more aware of your surrounding, you immediately burn bright red feeling Helmut’s fingers and eyes on you, feeling so indecent, sitting up immediately, scrambling to gather yourself.

Helmut also sits up with you, a little confused of what you are doing, “My love what’s wrong?”

You don’t miss the way how Helmut addresses you has changed, and if you are being honest to yourself, you like it quite a bit. But you can’t help but feel like what just happened shouldn’t have happened, and you start to sputter out apologies, completely disregarding the fact that Helmut had devoured you of his own will. And just as you try to get up, Helmut pulls you down on him, wrapping his arm around you, with your back against Helmut’s chest and his one hand running up and down your exposed leg in a soothing manner, making you completely relaxed despite how exposed you are, as he speaks against the back of your neck, his breath tickling you, “What are you apologising for my baroness. You have no idea how long I wanted to do that to you.” Another kiss on the back of your ear as his whispers continue, “I wanted to wait for our marriage, when I have you officially and completely to me and I to you, but with how you started to speak of us, the doubt you had in us, I could not let that manifest any further, had to clear all these little doubts you had of me, of us, of what this is. My sweet love, these titles, these ranks, they account for nothing to me if I can’t have you. You must know since the moment we’ve met, I’ve had my eyes on you always, far too young to know what love is but my eyes saw none but you when we were together. And when this heart came to know of love, it loved one heart always. Yours.” And as he said that, you found yourself pushing further into Helmut’s warmth, his words making you feel completely dizzy, as these are words you never expected to come out of his mouth.

You grab his hand from around your body, and holding them to your chest, trying to hold whatever you can of his as close to your heart as possible, trying to make yourself believe that it is no dream. You open both his palms up and put them on each of your breasts. Helmut laughs with a little humour at this and speaks, “my love what on earth are you doing.”

“Squeeze me.”

And Helmut can no longer be subtle with his laugh, “What on earth are you talking about, I pour my heart out only for you to ask me to grab your tits?”

You nod innocently, turning your head slightly towards him, meeting his gaze ever so shyly before speaking, “I need to know I’m not dreaming, so, my Baron, can you please squeeze my tits tightly.”

Helmut shakes his head fondly at your words, and obeying your request, moving his hand to slip it inside your dress from the top, grabbing your tits once more and giving both your tits a long and harsh squeeze, your nipple getting caught in the most delicious painful pinch, and you can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as you lean hear head back onto his shoulder as you repeatedly let out, “real, real, real…” Helmut leans forward to give your lips few soft pecks and slowly removes his hands from inside your dress.

“Now my love, I know you must be tired, and I apologise that I can’t take you away just yet, but we must tend to the guests again. We’ve left them alone for far too long. But don’t you worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time. You can lean on me for the rest of the night, I’ll be your crutch” Helmut speaks teasingly.

You whine against him, “No, I’m fine, lets go.” Determined to prove him wrong, you push yourself up with his support, once standing, you start fixing yourself up, setting your panty decently, which is still embarrassingly wet, but you know you can do nothing about it. You fix the skirt of your dress and pull the bust up to make yourself all decent. Helmut stands up behind you, standing on guard in case you need any help, and he was right to do so as you stumble on the very first step you take as you find yourself still drained from the earlier events. Helmut immediately grips at your waist, holding you steady. Helmut shakes his head endearingly, bringing you close to his side, taking one last look up and down at the both of you to make sure everything is decent, and leading you both back to the grand hall, slowly.

As you both step into the ballroom again, your and his mum rush to the both of you bombarding you two about your whereabouts. “Where were you kids, leaving your guests unattended.” Hilda goes off, eyeing both of you a little suspiciously, “and something seems different about you two. Were you guys off doing drugs or something.” Hilda’s eyes turn a little wild, your mum’s eyes also going wide, “you know what I don’t want to know, not now, go back in there and tend to the guests.” Hilda pushes you both inside. Helmut’s arms remain around you as you both the guests around the room, Helmut looking at you from time to time, leaning down whispering sweet nothings to you.

Your and Helmut’s mum can’t help but stand by each other while eyeing both your interactions, can’t help but notice how it has drastically changed since earlier tonight. Both knew of your feelings towards Helmut, but now seeing both of you so cosy, so publically, both are very confused, but couldn’t contain their happiness, especially for you, both looking at each other then giving each other a massive hug of relief, both elated for their respective children and what their closeness may mean.

Throughout the night, the happy couple greeted everyone around the room, made conversation with whomever they were required to make conversation with, and with each and every people they interacted with, everyone could see the love and fondness in each other’s eyes. Anyone who witnessed Helmut’s gaze on Y/N would say that he looks at Y/N like she held the universe in her palms, the two must be soulmates, lovers for eternity, if a past life existed, the two must’ve been together. And they wouldn’t be wrong, Helmut indeed look at her as if she were the most precious being to ever exist.

You see, while Y/N was so infatuated by Helmut growing up, she never did see that Helmut was equally enamoured by her. Whenever Y/N would visit, he’d always be somewhere close by, try to get a glimpse of her, be it a second. He loved seeing Y/n with his mum in their balcony, or her in the stables, far too scared to be on the horses, but helping feeding and brushing Helmut’s horse. What started as stolen glances from Helmut, bloomed into love. And with both of them being equal parts idiots, never approached each other either with their confession of love. So when Helmut’s father approached him with the proposal of both their marriage, he agreed in a heartbeat.

That night, there was affirmation on everyone’s heart that there was love in the air and that these two were meant to be. There was a satisfaction in both their parents heart that the two aren’t simply compromising for their countries, but do truly love each other. There was content within both Helmut’s and Y/N’s heart knowing that Helmut loves Y/N and Y/N loves Helmut. And there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that these two were meant to be.

a/n: hope that was ok.

#helmut zemo x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #helmut zemo smut #helmut zemo oneshot #daniel bruhl smut #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo fluff #helmut zemo angst #helmut zemo arrange marriage #helmut zemo fiction #saturn writes

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professorrw · 2 years

Text

Lazy Days

marvel masterlist

Pairing: female reader x Bucky Barnes x Helmut Zemo x Sam Wilson

Request: could you do a Sam x Bucky x Zemo fic? I don't have anything specific for it but it can be fluff or smut or even both

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, fluff, foursome, pet names (doll, my queen, etc.)

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

SFW

-There was nothing else like spending lazy days with your favorite boys: Sam, Zemo, and Bucky.

-In between missions they loved to be with you and just relax. They all felt at ease with you and only you.

-One of their favorite things was cuddling with you on the couch. They were too impatient to take turns so you had come up with a solution.

-The couch was L-shaped, and Zemo would sit in the corner with his legs stretched out in front of him. You would sit next to him, tucked into his side with a protective arm around you. Bucky would lay down to your left with his head in your lap. He loved how you would play with his hair and lightly stroke his face when you all cuddled. Lastly, Sam would sit on the floor at the corner of the couch, right where he could set his head on your thighs.

-This arrangement happened often and almost every time you would fall asleep amongst them. They didn’t mind it at all; they loved seeing your peaceful face and hearing your random mumblings.

-Bucky and Zemo were very uncultured when it came to movies, so you and Sam would introduce them to all your favorites. Those nights were full of popcorn, Cokes, and candies. They were also some of the rare times you would see the three boys cry. They could fight and shoot people all day long and be somewhat fine, but if a dog dies they’re done for.

-Cooking was another fun activity you four could do together. Sam would show you how to cook some of his mother’s favorite foods from Louisiana, and Zemo would teach you how to cook food native to Sokovia. Despite him coming from royalty, he could cook fairly well.

-Each boy loves to steal you away for themselves sometimes.

-Zemo does it most frequently. Every time he sees an opportunity he’ll try to get you into his room for the night or convince you to go out to eat with him or let him take you on a date. Zemo was very persuasive and charming, so you never said no. He pampered you every second you were with him, calling you a wide range of names, like “his queen.” He loved giving you things that he thought were nice or reminded him of you. You had rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets for every day of the week, plus some. You didn’t know how Bucky and Sam got Zemo to agree to share you. You could tell just how much he wanted you all to himself. He called you his even though you really weren’t. But he must have known this was the only way you would have agreed to be with him. You told them you weren’t going to choose between the three of them so they made it to where you didn’t have to.

-Bucky just wanted comfort. He wasn’t a selfish person, but whenever he was having trouble sleeping he would ask for your touch. He was so extremely gentle with you, and treated you like a porcelain doll. You would hold him and kiss him all night until he eventually drifted off. Outside of when he was trying to go to sleep he was always keeping a quiet eye on you. He had opened up significantly since you met him, but he still had times when he wouldn’t talk much. At other times he could be cocky, pulling you in by the waist and burying his face in your neck or calling you names like “doll” or “sweetheart” in a casual conversation or around other people.

-Sam was kind, and down to Earth. He was funny and caring, and a family man. When you spent the night in his room you would stay up all night talking and tracing patterns on his skin with your fingertips. You could talk to him for hours upon hours and never get bored. You could also say the same for Bucky and Zemo, but they weren’t quite as talkative and open. Sam’s favorite thing to do was take you places. He loved taking you on dates and experiencing things local to wherever you were at the time. Sam was also a dancer. If music came on you better believe that he was dragging you onto the dance floor. He could spin you around and dip you until the end of time. When you danced the air became electric. Bucky was kind of jealous of the way you two looked at each other when you were dancing.

NSFW

-Some time after the three of them decided to share you and not make you choose between them, the idea of a foursome was brought up. They were hesitant at first. Yes, you had had sex with each of them before, but it wasn’t exactly the same as them all sharing you in one moment.

-They brought up the idea with you and asked for your opinion. You agreed to try it out.

-It was one of the best decisions you’d ever made.

-Trying to please you was each of their goals, and it became somewhat of a friendly competition.

-They were gentle at first, pampering and praising you until it got rough. You would be left with hickeys and bite marks all over your body, many from Bucky.

-Zemo would always try to take charge and be the one inside you firstly and lastly. He loved seeing you unravel before him, succumbing to his cock.

-Sam was all about the mouth and hand action. Your face was his favorite thing to cum on after you had worked him up so much. His hands were on every free spot on your body at all times.

-Bucky would work you up first before any dick was put inside you. He knew you loved his metal hand, so he put it to good use. Every sound imaginable would fall from your lips because of him. When someone else was occupying your pussy he was massaging your thighs and boobs, or nibbling and sucking on the plush skin.

-Aftercare was absolute bliss with them. They would hurry to get you something to drink or a snack if you wanted, and would kiss you softly and whisper sweet words to you.

-“You did so good my queen,” Zemo would tell you, stroking your hair.

-“You treat us so well, doll,” Bucky would say, smiling gently at you.

-“Mhm,” Sam would agree. “You’re our special girl.”

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bxckybarness · 2 years

Text

Back in the Fight III

summary: Zemo takes you to Madripoor, where things get a little out of hand.

word count: 1500+

warnings: slight mention of trafficking. very, very brief mention, no detail. also a bit of canon divergence

catch up on part I and part II here

Uncomfortable.

Everything about this situation was uncomfortable. Yes, you were used to undercover work. But something about this felt different to you, and not in a good way.

The fabric of the dress that sat too low on your chest and too high on your thighs was itchy in every place possible. The heels you wore were almost high enough to break your ankles. The air in Madripoor was thick and stuffy.

On your left, Sam was dressed out in high scale clothing, intending to match the get-up of a well-known rake nicknamed the Smiling Tiger. To your right, Bucky was dressed in his normal outfit with his metal arm exposed, meant to show that he was, in fact, the Winter Soldier. Both seemed tense and just as uncomfortable as you were.

The three of you and Zemo walked through the streets of Hightown. The neon-lit streets were crawling with people. Some held large guns in their hands, others held stacks of cash. This, you thought, felt like you had landed in some video game. You subconsciously move closer to Bucky’s side and keep your head down, not really wanting to interact with anyone on the street for fear of blowing your cover, or worse.

After a few minutes of walking, you arrive at a crowded bar and Zemo begins to lead the four of you through the door. You move next to Sam and wrap your arm around his, assuming your role as the rake’s woman of interest for the night. People begin to watch you and you suddenly feel more exposed than you already had. Sam, feeling your apprehension, grabs and squeezes your hand lightly. You give him a slight nod and look back at the crowd around you. If you were to play your part correctly, you needed to be confident.

Zemo, noticing the crowd’s interest in your group, quickly speaks up. You don’t register the words he’s speaking in his cold tone, but recognize the language to be Russian. Bucky tensing up in front of you and Sam confirms your suspicions and immediately you hear whispers wave through the mass of people.

“The Winter Soldier?”

“Is that really him?”

“I thought he was dead?”

The next few minutes feel like a blur. You watch as Sam drinks a cocktail involving the guts of a snake and try not to bring up your last meal. You listen as Zemo controls the situation, asking for information about the Power Broker. You scan your surroundings, keeping eyes on everyone surrounding the bar. People walk in and out of the room - were any of these people who Zemo had brought you to meet?

What brings you out of your trance is Zemo speaking in Russian again and Bucky, who had been standing stoically along the bar before, lurch toward a man standing just behind you. The two of you lock glances quickly, before he resumes his role.

“It didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo says with a chuckle.

“Shut the hell up,” you respond, a shiver going through your body. Reality is blurred as you watch him fight. And the others feel it too. Guns are cocked, people are shouting - was this really a part of the plan?

You share a quick, worried glance with Sam, who moves to pull Bucky off of the man he’s currently choking to death. You stay at your position in front of the bar, keenly observing the crowd that is quickly closing in. Zemo is quick to step in front of Sam, mouthing words that you can’t hear, even from your close proximity. Whatever he said must have worked, for only seconds later the bartender announces that Selby was ready to talk.

You all quickly duck out of the main room and are ushered through the dark hallways to an upper level. As subtle as you could, you walk up next to Bucky, quickly grabbing and squeezing his hand, making an effort to make as little extra movement as possible.

“You good?” you whisper, the words barely coming out in fear of attracting the attention of the heavily armed men walking behind you.

He gulps and gives a quick nod. On other days, you wouldn’t have questioned it, but today, you see right through his facade. Fortunately for him, now isn’t the time to badger, so you sigh and give his hand one final squeeze before creating space between you once again.

When you’re introduced to Selby, you have to hold back your cringe at the way she looks at you. Like you’re tonight’s meal. Or a prize to be won. She, unlike you and your posse, is obviously not one for subtlety. You’re sure everyone else feels the tension too and you’re confident they do when Zemo speaks. The words that come out of his mouth somehow manage to make you more sick than Selby’s stare.

“What I’m proposing is this,” he begins, moving to stand next to you as he walks, “You tell us what you know about the Super Soldier serum, and I’ll let you have our dear pet here. She will do anything you want.”

You shudder, your mouth falling open at this suggestion. Sam tenses up, and Bucky’s fists flex at his side. None of you dare move, though. You try to plaster a smile on your face, working hard to play your part to perfection. You’re sure it’s coming across as more of a pained grimace and you desperately plead with any god out there to help you through this test of your patience.

“Well now,” Selby says, her voice low. “I’m glad I decided not to kill you. That’s quite the offer.”

Zemo pushes you across the room so you’re standing right in front of Selby. She pats the spot on the couch next to her and you take a deep breath, before sitting. She takes one last glance at you before speaking again.

“The serum is here in Madripoor, thanks to Dr. Nagel. It got a bit out of hand,” she says. She shakes her head and smiles to herself, looking almost proud of the chaos.

“Is the Doctor, still around?” Zemo counters.

Selby lets out a laugh and pats you on your bare thigh before standing, “The bread crumbs are free, but I’m afraid you’ll have to pay for the whole bakery. And before you-”

She’s cut off by a cell phone vibrating, loudly. Louder than you would’ve liked, considering the phone in question appears to belong to Sam. The next few minutes are dreadful and feel like slow-motion.

Sam answers the phone, he’s trying to play cool.

Sarah is on the other end, clearly not understanding the situation and getting irritated by the circumstances.

Selby begins pacing around the room, circling your group like she’s on the hunt for prey.

You’re standing and moving back to where Bucky is, against the far wall.

Sarah calls Sam by his name and -

Sarah calls Sam by his name. Shit.

Before you can react, guns are firing and Selby’s body is suddenly falling to the floor, lifeless. You curse under your breath and reach for the small knife that’s hidden under the hem of your dress. You get to it just in time, as one of Selby’s henchmen moves quickly in your direction. You slash him across the arm, causing him to lash out. You are unable to move away fast enough and the heel of his gun crashes right into the side of your head.

You let out a pained yelp and scramble backwards, ending up against the wall. Bucky is quickly on your attacker, taking him down with much better speed and strength than you. As Sam takes care of the other guard, Bucky quickly moves to you, reaching out to steady you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, a worried expression laying firmly on his face.

“Considering I could’ve been used as Selby’s groupie tonight, a concussion is looking pretty good,” you respond, attempting humor to relieve the pain you’re feeling.

Bucky grumbles under his breath and you notice his eyes go dark, but only for a fleeting second. “You know I would’ve never let that happen to you.”

“If that’s what needed to happen to complete the mi-”

“No,” he shouts, “I would never let that happen to you. Do you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” you say softly. “I know. And I hope you know, I won’t let Zemo continue to use your past for our gain.”

“It’s okay, doll,” he says.

But you cut him off, wanting to prove your point like he did for you, “I mean it, Buck.”

He gently squeezes your shoulder and helps you stand up straight. You notice Sam and Zemo standing in front of you - have they been there the whole time? Sam looks smug and Zemo looks pissed. You pull away from Bucky quickly, feeling a bit awkward that you had an audience. That was the first time Bucky had ever acted so passionate (was that the right word?) around you and it was making you feel slightly warm.

“I hate to break up the love fest,” he says, “but we have a real problem, now.”

You nod and grip the knife in your hand and glance around the room at your friends. Just days ago, you had been living peacefully in your New York apartment. And now, you were in some lawless part of a foreign country on the hunt for a crazy doctor who created an army of super soldiers. Oh, and you might be developing feelings for your super-soldier Avenger friend. If this was only the start of the problem, you were certainly in for one hell of a night.

#marvel imagine #marvel #marvel oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #zemo #the falcon #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagine #winter soldier

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terry-perry · 1 year

Note

Bet zemo wont pull el chapo when james is being put to keep an eye on the barron while Pops and Sam watch walker getting an ass kick from the wakandan guards

Well...

"Where do you think you're going?"

Zemo should've expected the youngest Barnes to try and foil his escape. He thought he had a chance to leave during the whole ordeal going on upstairs. Through the short amount of time, they've spent together, the Baron knew James' boy was a determined young man with a readiness to go against anyone.

"Somewhere I can pay my respects," Zemo replied with, smiling at Jack.

With his hands raised, he gave the sign of surrender and the opportunity to turn himself in. It was a bold move since the boy had plenty of reason to hate him. It was because of him his father almost died and practically became a criminal of the state. The act of surrender was a bold move, but one that was necessary to secure himself and be heard out.

"Sokovia," Jack realized, his stoic expression remaining.

"You or your father can easily find me there. I'm not going to go anywhere else. And there's no need to worry because I do not plan on killing any of you."

"What a relief," Jack replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.

He was very much similar in appearance to James, although he had a more diplomatic manner to him. This was apparent in how he interacted with others and was able to maintain a level of composure even when around those he didn't care for very much.

"Young James," Zemo went on. "It is you who is holding the weapon." His eyes go to the gun in Jack's hand. "You are responsible for what happens next. Just know it will only be a matter of time before Miss Morgenthau is completely transformed. I hope you all are prepared when she becomes a more ruthless individual who will do whatever it takes to get what she wants."

After destroying the super serum, Zemo was expecting a relentless pursuit of action now. Once everything was in place, he can start working on his own plans to stop all this. But for now, he wanted to go and pay his respects.

"And let your father know that I took the liberty of crossing my name off his list. I have no grudges against him for what he did."

Jack kept holding that blank expression, listening to every word. It was up to him now what to do. Zemo will accept any fate delivered to him. He can either find a way to stop the Flag Smashers' attack or reunite with his dead wife and son.

"Get out of here," Jack said, maintaining eye contact. "I'll tell them you were gone by the time I got here." He lowered his gun. "I will be telling my dad where you ran off to, though. So you better leave now. He won't be as fair as I was."

Zemo lost his smile, but he still gave his approval with a nod. He was right to trust this boy.

#dad!bucky #child oc #jack barnes #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #request #mcu #mcu au #imagine #mcu fanfiction #drabble #oneshot #helmut zemo #baron zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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jourquet · 2 years

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do you guys want any winterbaron or stucky oneshots? i’m all up for angst and stuff. fluff isn’t my preference unless is hurt/comfort.

#a lion's reflection #winterbaron #stucky #oneshots #baron zemo #james bucky barnes #bucky x zemo #steve rogers #steve x bucky #drabble

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notxjustxstories · 2 years

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A Proposal (pt 2)

kinktober day 16: face fucking 18+ only; minors dni

summary: (follow up to day 15) while on the hunt for the Flag Smashers, the outcasts are left to their own devices.

ship: Erin Reeves (f!oc) x Bucky Barnes x Helmut Zemo

wordcount: 558

tags/warnings: dom/sub, risk aware consensual kink, rough oral sex, face fucking, degradation/humiliation kink, exhibitionism, jealousy kink, dom!Helmut Zemo, switch!Bucky Barnes

kinktober 2022 masterlist | erin reeves tag | erin/bucky masterlist | erin/zemo masterlist | erin/bucky/zemo masterlist

"Are you going to be good whore and get my cock out, or do I have to do it myself?" Zemo could already feel Barnes's glare on him, and part of him loved it. The idea that the weapon may so easily appear over a few words.

Erin obeyed him, reaching for his belt, but he noticed she'd gone back to facing forward except her eyes, looking up at him. The brown in them was almost completely swallowed by the black of her pupils, overcome with lust.

Zemo decided Erin was taking too long in that moment, another excuse to push her and Barnes to the edge. "Obviously you're not a very good whore, moving glacially like that." He gave her a light push, just enough to provide himself enough room to undo the fastenings of his pants and pull out his dick.

Task completed, he grabbed Erin's hair and forced her to look up at him. "A slut like you and you can't even get a cock out in a reasonable amount of time," he mocked. "It's a wonder the god and the soldier keep you. Must be a damn good fuck."

A growl reached his ears, but he didn't bother turning towards the source.

"Apologize," Zemo ordered.

Erin winced as his grip tightened, but she offered a feeble response all the same. "I'm sorry for taking too long, sir."

"You should be."

Without further preamble, he pulled Erin in, and she readily opened her mouth to accept his cock. He didn't waste any time letting her adjust, immediately shoving himself so deep a choking sound escaped the woman on her knees before him, and even then he urged her to take him deeper with each thrust. He'd heard rumors of what she really was; she could take it.

"Do you see your soldier?" Zemo snapped, pointing his free hand at Barnes. "It's killing him to share his little fucktoy, isn't it? But you offered yourself up on a platter like a whore."

Erin looked at Bucky out of the corner of her eye, watching him strain as he resisted the urge to get of his knees and claim what was his.

"Ugh, I was right," Zemo grunted, happily feeding Barnes's rage, "you are a good fuck. A slut like you must take a dozen cocks a day."

He kept thrusting deeper and deeper as Erin relaxed her throat, curses and insults falling from his lips until he lost track of what he was even saying. He hadn't known pleasure like this in years, not since his wife died, and the woman between his legs knew exactly what to do.

His own orgasm caught him by surprise, and he braced himself on the bar with one hand while the other held Erin's head in place, forcing her to swallow his cum.

When he finally pulled back, he put his boot on Erin's shoulder and pushed her down, just one more way to add insult to injury, but the second Erin was free of him, Zemo found himself with his back to the bar, his lapels in a white-knuckle grip by one James Barnes.

"Do you want a taste, too?" Zemo teased.

He was, admittedly, a little surprised when Barnes leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Let's see if you can give as well as you take."

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #erin reeves #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #erin reeves writings #fic: the six #mine #yet another oneshot that got away from me

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mypoisonedvine · 5 months

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𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 | helmut zemo x reader

@radmerrmaid requested a drabble with zemo and enemies to lovers. what happened is a whole oneshot. don't ask me how.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: DUBCON SMUT, enemies to lovers/hate sex, rough sex including hair pulling, degradation and name calling, restraint, a slap, and overstimulation, touchstarved reader, unspecified age gap, very mild violence (hand-to-hand combat and a mention of a previous gunshot wound), kidnapping, soft!dark zemo?

"It must drive you crazy," he purred, wrapping his fingers carefully around the crystal glass before picking it up. "Seeing me like this."

He smirked around his sip of bourbon— at least you figured it was bourbon— as you tried to keep a poker face. You didn't like the idea of being seen as crazy at all, let alone because of him. "Like what?" you pressed instead of admitting to it.

"Free," he shrugged. "Out of that cage you worked so hard to keep me in."

"Getting you there was my job," you corrected with a frown. "If keeping you there was mine, too... you'd still be in it."

He laughed lightly, if briefly, and shook his head. "Still so prideful. You're young, and you have something to prove."

"I have nothing to prove to you," you asserted, shifting your weight on your hips— it was sort of uncomfortable to keep standing, but it felt wrong to take a seat even though he'd offered you one when you entered. It seemed like a sign of trust. Not that he should be surprised by you acting aloof, when he'd offered to meet you here without even explaining why.

"No, not to me," he agreed, setting the glass down again and taking one step closer to you. "To your friends at the CIA."

He seemed to emphasize every letter of the acronym, a playful condescension in his tone. "Friends is a funny way to say it," you rolled your eyes, "like I do what I do because I want to be popular, and not because I want to keep the world safe."

"Safe from me," he added, "the evil terrorist. Right?"

You ignored his question, not really wanting to dignify it with an answer— or start some spiel about how you don't really believe in evil people, just actions that merit punishment, bla bla bla...

"Yet, you couldn't keep yourself safe from me," he went on, raising one eyebrow as he examined you. "Or, you can't. Here you are— alone, as I asked."

Obviously, you had tried to imagine some way you could have back-up for this, even just tell someone where you were going. But this was Zemo's turf, and he had eyes and ears all over the city... he would know if you tried to turn this into a sting. Instead, you only hoped to gain some sort of information tonight that you could use to track him down when he tried to run again.

"You're more trusting than I suspected," he smirked, gaze darkening a bit. "Or, more desperate."

"Maybe the right word is 'curious'," you proposed. "Clearly, you have something to discuss with me."

"I do," he nodded. "A question to ask you-- one I feel only you can answer."

You waited for him to ask it, but even just the way he sucked in a sharp breath made you realize he was going to bore you with some preamble first— just like him, really..

"You see, after evading you so many times—"

"Narrowly," you interjected.

"Maybe some times," he shrugged, smiling, "other times, I think I had plenty of room. But that's besides the point... the point is, here I am. I've probably bested you for the last time—"

"That's not—"

"Ah ah, no interrupting, please," he scolded gently. "I know you know that if I can keep a low profile here, your organization has no hope of getting me back. I simply have too many resources, and your superiors know my risk is relatively low. No?"

Again, you refused to answer, but the way you crossed your arms tighter and glanced away seemed to serve as enough of an agreement.

"So that's it— I'm free. It should be so simple," he sighed. "So, why am I disappointed?"

You furrowed your brows, staring at him in confusion. You were waiting for him to say something to give context to that, but he didn't— he only waited for your response with an earnest look. "Why... are you asking me that?" you wondered.

"Because you're the person who knows me best."

You'd never thought of it like that, and it was such a jarring idea that you began to shake your head almost instantly. "No, that... that doesn't seem right..."

"I figured you would take pride in it," Zemo grinned. "You tracked me for years, studied me, learned my habits... I had to do the same to escape you. I must know you better than anyone else."

"That's ridiculous," you scoffed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I just hoped you could tell me why I feel this way— why I feel so wrong about never seeing you again."

Your chest tightened. You couldn't bear to meet his gaze; your stomach felt sick and strange and you just wanted to run out of there, but what good would that do? You needed him to tell you something you could use, one last chance to catch him before it was too late.

"If I didn't know you so well, and hate you so much," he went on, "I wouldn't have the energy to keep running. And me? I'm your biggest case. Sometimes you act like I'm your only case. What is it about me, that you need to win against me so badly?"

"It's not you," you insisted instantly, "it's me— it's who I am."

"Maybe that's how it started," he suggested, "but you can't spend so long hunting someone without becoming a little obsessed with them— trust me, I would know."

You grimaced at him. "You— you can't be serious."

"Who will you be without me to chase?" he pressed anyways, matching some of your anger as he stepped closer again— almost too close. "Without this... passion, between us?"

"Don't step any closer," you warned.

"Or what?" he challenged. "No weapons, no soldiers— it's just the two of us here."

He stepped up again, nearly pressed against you, and you couldn't let him get away with that... you had to prove you meant what you said. You weren't armed, and you knew he wasn't someone you wanted to go up against hand-to-hand... but at the same time, it was one thing you'd always secretly wished for. A chance to wage this war the way it should be, the way it had always been: personal.

You stepped back at the same time as you swung your fist, giving yourself just enough room to gain momentum— but you weren't quite fast enough, and he blocked you. From then on it was fast, instinctual: he was stronger but you were quicker, and on the offensive.

You never quite landed a hit, but neither did he— which felt like a good sign, until you realized he wasn't really giving it his all. Dodging and blocking, yes, but he wasn't trying to win, just keep you at bay.

"Come on!" you yelled in frustration as you finally got in a kick to his chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall. "What are you doing, pitying me?"

"Hardly," he wheezed, a little affected by the hit, which made you smirk. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, putting your fists up and stabilizing your posture. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

He came at you, and finally, there it was... his real strength. That passion he'd been talking about, you could feel it.

Both of you were flushed and panting, exhilarated by the sport of it all. Unfortunately, right as you thought you'd found your moment— the weak spot in his form— it was a trap. When you moved in closer, he grabbed you and spun you around, holding your back against his chest so tight that you struggled to breathe.

But he didn't shove you down, didn't put you in a chokehold, didn't even threaten you or gloat about pinning you. Instead, he only held you tighter, and soothed you with a gentle 'shh' in your ear when you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you whispered, your whole body shaking as he ran his tongue up your neck.

"If it's curiosity that brought you here," he purred in response, "I can satisfy that."

"You can't be fffucking serious," you hissed, though a moan tainted your words as one of his hands ran down your body, the other still effortlessly holding you still.

"I know you so well," he went on, a deep growl in his voice as your eyes fell shut. "I know how lonely you must be. That's one of the things we share."

His hand was heavy and warm against your leg, even through your pants— and it was moving higher, petting your inner thigh as you shivered. Though your mind longed to resist him, your body was desperate for any affection; because he was right, you were lonely. You couldn’t think of the last time someone had touched you like this, and yet you remembered it didn’t usually feel this good. His touch was precise and careful and teasing— not too awkward but not too cocky. And the heat of him wrapped around you, his hot breath on your shoulder, his wider form encompassing you… how could it feel so good?

“And I know you’ve thought about this,” he added. “That’s something we share, too.”

He couldn’t know that— he might be rich and resourceful, but he wasn’t omniscient. If you were any more logical in that moment, you would’ve realized he was just guessing and denied it. But his teeth brushing over your pulse didn’t exactly provoke your critical thinking skills. “Fuck, I— fuck,” you choked out instead, shuddering when he chuckled proudly.

“You might hate me, draga, but you need me,” he explained. “Your mind needs me, just as much as your body does.”

Something about the way his fingers traced up your side, teasing your breast before pulling away right before getting to anything too exciting… it seemed to bring you back to reality, at least partially. You absolutely couldn’t do this— you couldn’t let him do this. “G-get off me,” you choked out, struggling against him again.

“That’s what you want?” he taunted.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelped.

“Make me,” he challenged.

Bringing your foot down hard on top of his, he winced and you managed to break away, spinning around and shoving him back— he actually lost his balance that time, falling to the floor. You were ready to deliver a firm and swift kick between his legs, but rolled over and grabbed your leg while it was up, bringing you down to the floor with him.

He laughed breathlessly, sounding a little frustrated, as you flailed for purchase against the floor— only for him to grab your wrists and pin you down, positioning himself over you with a grin. His hair was shaken out of its style, hanging around his face which was flushed from exertion. “You keep me on my toes, I’ll give you that,” he offered. You tried to writhe again but he had you properly trapped now, with absolutely no way out.

“You wouldn’t,” you sneered incredulously.

“Wouldn’t what, dear?”

“You wouldn’t force yourself on me,” you completed.

He seemed a little surprised, hanging his head and shaking it. “Oh,” he breathed, “no, I wouldn’t.”

A little relieved, you started to catch your breath.

“I don’t need to.”

He brought his lips down to yours suddenly— the collision was almost too rough, and yet it was the only thing that made sense for the two of you. You groaned in protest yet submitted instantly, opening your mouth wide for his desperate and dominating kiss.

Your back arched up off the floor, and his weight seemed to sink down on top of you in response. Though you hated yourself for it, you spread your legs a bit, just enough for him to rest his hips between— and fuck, you could feel it. The hard, throbbing heat, you could feel it pressed against you and the most horrible moan was nearly lost to his lips.

He hummed back proudly, running his hands over your body, kissing you faster.

You were gasping for breath when he broke away, which only worsened when he latched onto your neck. “God, I hate you,” you blurted out, just to remind you both that if this was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You hate me for all those times I embarrassed you?” he assumed, hands holding your waist and starting to slide up your shirt. “For when I eluded you, wasted your time, made a fool of you?”

“And that time you shot me.”

“I winged you,” he corrected— like that was any better.

He tugged your shirt up and you raised your arms, letting him slip it off; he spotted the scar right away, a line across your arm just under your shoulder. He cooed for a second before kissing it softly— too gentle a moment for you to let lie. You shoved his jacket back next, helping him slip it off his shoulders before pulling him down to kiss you again.

Your sports bra had a clasp in the front, it was a bit unique in that way, yet he had no trouble with it. Freeing your chest, he of course had to tease you a bit more— instead of groping your waiting breasts right away, he guided your arms down from where they held onto the back of his neck, lifting you up from the floor a bit so you could slide the garment off and toss it away.

When you laid back down, the floor was cold, but the hiss you let out was more a response to him rocking his hips against you, teasing you through these stupid remaining clothes. “You know why I hate you?” he returned as he started to unbutton your pants, even though you’d entirely forgotten that last part of the conversation.

Before he answered the question, he yanked your pants and underwear down to your thighs— and swiftly got his own out of the way. Your heart raced; you weren’t totally convinced this was really happening, not until he pushed into you in one painfully sudden thrust. You cried out, yet he took no mercy on you. He was ruthless, in fact.

Choking on your broken cries, you arched up off the floor again as he hammered into you, rage and relief and desperation evident in every movement. He had to hold your legs tightly just to keep you from sliding across the floor, which only ensured you took every stroke as deep as it could go— which was already too fucking deep.

“Say it,” he ordered, “tell me why I hate you.”

“I caught you,” you said— but you knew that would just make him angrier. Maybe that was kind of the idea.

Stopping just long enough to tug your pants the rest of the way off— and leaving you naked while he was still mostly dressed— he descended over you and looked right at you, far too close, with a rageful stare.

“You trapped me,” he corrected gruffly. “You played dirty.”

Before you had a chance to retort that all’s fair in love and war, he started to pound into you… harder and meaner than ever. You didn’t surprise yourself by crying out, considering how intense and nearly painful the feeling was, but you were a little confused that the word you said was a needy yes!

"Those years in prison," he snarled, "you could barely call it living, life in that place— you put me there. I thought every day about how you put me there."

He yanked your hair, making you whine loudly and exposing your neck for his lips and teeth to explore freely.

Finally, a hand latched onto your chest— a hot palm encompassing your breast and skilled fingers pinching lightly at your nipple. You couldn’t believe how composed he was through all this— in many ways, he wasn’t, but he seemed to be deliberate with every way he touched you and that was far more togetherness than you had.

You weren’t together at all, actually… something about the heat of the moment, the way your body responded to him, the way he glared at you… you could already feel tension building inside you. It wouldn’t be long, not if he kept going like this.

“I thought about you every fucking day, draga— that you were free, and I was trapped in that cell,” he growled. “You missed it, didn’t you? Chasing me.”

When you didn’t answer, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand; the shock of it made your walls clench on him, or at least you could blame it on that, but you had no way to explain the way you moaned a moment later.

He moved even faster, a sickening wet sound echoing through the room which you hated to acknowledge was your own body. “The worse I am to you, the wetter you get,” he noticed, smiling for just a moment. “What a filthy whore you are.”

“F-fuck you,” you stammered roughly.

“Actually, why don’t you?” he offered, grabbing you by the hips and rolling both of you over until he was on his back and you were straddling him. “Show me how bad you need it.”

As much as you wanted to not do what he told you, your hips were already moving— your body was on its own mission now, desperate for pleasure and friction and heat. Desperate for anything he would give. You whimpered as you grinded down on him, feeling his cock go so much deeper than you imagined was possible. “God,” you sobbed, tossing your head back and trying not to picture the way he must have been looking at you then.

His hands moved all over you, up your thighs and over your breasts, even wrapping around your neck once though they didn’t put on enough pressure to really choke you. “Pretty girl,” he praised darkly, making chills dance over your skin.

But when his hands settled on your hips, trying to guide you the way he wanted, you’d had enough; you grabbed him at the wrists and leaned forward, pinning his hands beside his head. He smirked up at you at first, but when you bounced your hips up and down while hovering over him, his eyes fell shut and he let out a deep groan. “I’m close,” you panted sharply.

“You can make yourself come like this?” he realized, sounding a little impressed. He opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment to get a better look at you, before almost instantly giving up again and dropping his head back to the floor with a moan. “Fine, take it— just take what you need, draga.”

You held tighter to his wrists, mostly to keep yourself stable, and you felt his own hands ball into fists as you bounced faster. “Oh god, oh god, oh god— yes!” you yelped, legs quivering as it struck you. It seemed to come and go so quickly, perhaps because your strength gave out halfway through and you felt weak and paralyzed. It had been ages since you’d felt pleasure like that… actually you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure like that, at least not so much all at once.

If only he were satisfied by that. With your grip weakened, he easily pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and bucking his hips up into you rapidly.

“Fuck, wait, s-slow down,” you panted, whining weakly as he shook his head against the crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he purred. “I won’t be able to slow down at all until you’re full of come, draga. I want you dripping.”

You were all numb and limp now, so raw and sensitive inside— he put you on your back again and didn’t struggle at all to pull another orgasm from you. The third, though, was a little more hard fought: he rubbed your clit with an almost painful amount of pressure, watching through dark eyes and with a sneering grin as you screamed and shivered.

“Not too loud, darling,” he warned, “the people in the streets might hear you, the window’s still open—”

“Fuck!” you shouted, high-pitched and shaky, and he covered your mouth with his other hand as he laid on you with a growl.

“Just one more, then I’ll fill you,” he promised. “I only need to feel you come one more time. You want a rest, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly, biting down on your shaking lip.

“Then give me what I want.”

Your final cry was stuttered and helpless, every final ounce of energy in your body being taken from you by the final forced peak of ecstasy. But it wasn’t until you sighed out his name, barely audible under your breath, that he groaned against your neck and pumped himself deep inside you— every drop, leaving you full to the brim and then some.

You didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him, but he held you far too tightly as if to make up for it, and didn’t let you go for quite some time.

It had only gotten darker and colder out, and the draft through the window eventually danced over your sweat-slickened skin. When you shivered under him, Helmut lazily reached up to the couch nearby, pulling a throw blanket off of it and wrapping you both up in its soft embrace. You sighed with relief from both the cold air and the hard floor, not even realizing you were falling asleep.

Even when you woke up, you didn’t really notice that you’d been asleep— except that Helmut was gone, and the fireplace was going. Sitting up as little as you could get away with to look for him— since moving at all was quite a task given how tired you were— you heard him coming around the corner and turned back to look at him.

He was in a robe now, and carrying two crystal glasses of water. He smiled at you as he sat back down on the floor, laying beside you on the blanket and handing you your glass. “Figured you would need this soon enough,” he explained with a soft voice as you sipped carefully at the water. You weren’t really ready to talk to him yet, but you wanted to thank him for the water, so you just nodded and hoped that would get the point across.

The silence was probably only awkward for you— he seemed totally at peace, getting through most of his drink before setting it down on the floor and cuddling up to you again with a contented sigh.

You quietly drank the water, staring forward at the crackling fire, hardly believing where you were. It actually sounded sort of romantic on paper: a dashing and wealthy older man, a penthouse apartment in a foreign city, a fire, a blanket, a crystal glass…

If it weren’t for the wanted terrorist, it might make for a good little fantasy.

Yet, you set your glass aside and laid back down with him. He slipped an arm around you, holding your shoulder and petting it with his thumb, even kissing the side of your forehead sweetly. “I don’t understand how you can… be like that,” you whispered, glancing down at his arm crossed over your chest.

“Not everyone is so afraid of their feelings as you are,” he countered, and you snorted a little.

“I’m not afraid of my feelings,” you denied half-heartedly.

“You’re afraid of me, then?” he wondered.

“Not… quite…” you murmured your answer, not even sure yourself what you felt. “I mean, I drank the water, so—”

“I wondered if you would,” he laughed, “but I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, only half the glass, technically,” you noticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve had enough,” he shrugged.

“Enough?” you chuckled. “After that, half a glass of water is hardly enough. I won’t be recovered until I have a protein-heavy meal and probably a couple painkillers— if I wanna, you know, sit or jog or whatever in the next few days.”

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t mean enough to recuperate. I meant enough for you to sleep until we get there.”

“...what?” you asked, turning over your shoulder with knitted brows to look at him.

“If even you know where you’re going, you might find a way to get out is all,” he explained flippantly.

“What… what are you…?” you started, shaking your head— but it didn’t shake off that funny feeling, that heaviness in your head.

“You see, I did think about you every day in my cell,” he went on, “and I thought about how, someday, I would lock you away— so you’d know how it feels, to be a prisoner.”

Whimpering as realization dawned, you sat up quickly to try to fight whatever was in that water… but it only seemed to make it worse, spots forming in your vision like when you stand up too fast— except they didn’t fade, just multiplied.

“I’ll treat you much better than I was, though,” he assured, “in fact, I think you’ll be better off than you were before… you’ll be mine, draga. No one else will ever see you again.”

You tried to speak but it wasn’t really coming together— you tried to push him away but you only limply held onto him, looking up at his eerily blank expression with your fading vision. As it all turned to black, he caught your head before it hit the floor, cradling it rather tenderly before kissing your cheek.

“Now,” he whispered to you, though you couldn’t possibly hear it, “let’s get you cleaned up— the plane is waiting to take you to our new home.”

#baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #dark!zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #daniel bruhl smut #dark!zemo smut #helmut zemo dark fic #baron zemo dark fic #WELP. oops.

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buckrecs · 10 months

Text

Bodyguard!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

SERIES

Seeing Red by @mypoisonedvine

bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

One Last Job by @sunriserose1023

Bucky Barnes is retired. He did a stint in the Army, did a stint as a Secret Service agent, even dabbled in the private sector, but that’s over. Now, he just wants to rest in the solitude he’s found in a cabin in the Adirondacks, with only his memories to get him through the sleepless nights. Until his best friend comes to him with a special request. One last job, protecting the movie star sister of an old Army buddy. She’s being stalked, getting death threats, but that’s nothing they haven’t dealt with before.

wrong choice, right places by @mvtthewmurdvck

never wanting to work for him or protect his fiancé, falling for you was the last thing he should do—especially when his boss was zemo, who now ran most of the city.

Safe with me by @bitsandbobsandstuff

When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Written in the Stars by @prettyyoungtragedy

You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?

You’re Mine, Sunshine by @theeleggymeggy

Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

ONESHOT

Shopping by @quarantined-with-bucky

Bucky’s paid to be your bodyguard and you’re, well, kind of a bitch.

Sunday is s Family Day by @lazyangeltreemoney

You’re stubborn, annoying and hot as hell which seems to be an awful combo to mix with Bucky Barnes. However one day he realises he got you all wrong and now there’s a little kid in the mix that needs both of your help.

Not so Forbidden by @vanillanaps

You were upset after a mishap that happened so your favorite bodyguard came to comfort you with good news.

Under The Burning Sun by @kinanabinks

The Winter Soldier is assigned to be your bodyguard, covertly protecting you from many assassination attempts. One day, he has no choice but to reveal himself to you.

Protecting What’s His by @jobean12-blog

Bucky has been your bodyguard for some time now and it’s been hard to deny how badly you want him to be more than that.

Bodyguard by @subwaysurf45

getting drunk at galas was fun, but not as fun as Bucky taking care of you after.

princess by @buckycuddlebuddy

“honey,” bucky growled, and then moaned. you felt your walls clench around him because of his voice tone.

security blanket by @comfortbucky

reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up.

#bodyguard!bucky #bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #winter soldier x reader

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Masterlist

Hi I'm Tee! I write fanfic and am entirely feral. Smoke, Fire and Ash is my first ever fanfic and is still ongoing. I'm in my mid twenties, and have always enjoyed reading and writing! My AO3 is the same handle @asumofwords

I write for Aemond Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Larys Strong (lol), but am open to writing for other characters such as Joel Miller (TLA), Negan or Daryl (TWD), Loki, Bucky, Zemo, Venom, Miguel O'Hara (MARVEL), Frank Castle (Punisher), open to most GOT characters too.

But I'm also open to writing for other characters so it's best to just ask if you're unsure!! <3

Am excited to explore these characters in my writing in the future!

Currently my requests are CLOSED!

BOUNDARIES FOR REQUESTS: I will not write for anyone who is underage (actor and character) and I will not write anything for stepdad/stepchild fics.

If you would like to be added to a general writing tag list, click here.

Aemond Targaryen:

Smoke, Fire and Ash (COMPLETED)

Dark! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

The Sublet Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Modern!Aemond x Reader, Roommate!AU

Lighthouse - Miniseries - (COMPLETED)

Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Til Death Do Us Part - Oneshot

Dark!Modern!Aemond x Reader, Divorce!Au

Ettore from High Life:

Treat

Michael Gavey from Saltburn:

Midpoint Common Factors

REQUESTS:

Unsought Betrothal - Dark!Aemond Targaryen

Unsought Betrothal Part 2 - Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Cock sizes Drabble

What Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jace and Criston fancy.

Linger - Ghost!Aemond x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x Reader, Spooky Season >:)

If you wish to be put on the taglist, please let me know ! :)

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

Was Ich Liebe | Helmut Zemo x gn!reader

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

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

word count: 5433

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

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

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

"Frank, what the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A Baron," he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"In my defense-"

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," Zemo answered with a curt nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This the one?"

"Yes, thank you," he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long is Mister Castle usually gone for?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Logan?”

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

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

“But you’re not a-”

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose.”

══════════════════

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

“Alright, what have you done now?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, and I stand by that.”

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

══════════════════

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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