WARNINGS: suggestive content 18+ • d/s & ddlg/lb themes (not explicitly stated), daddy kink, praise kink, oral fixation, a bit of dumification - Let me know if I missed anything
Helmut notices you hovering at the doorway, your eyes flitting around the room as you fiddle with the hem of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. His sweatshirt.
“What’s wrong Liebling?” You look up at him, shaking your head.
“It’s nothing.” You mumble. But he notices how your fingers flex with the urge to reach out for him. He hums, unconvinced. He rests his elbows against the desk in front of him, before beckoning to you with a finger. You fidget slightly, your eyes lingering on his outstretched finger, until you decide to make your way over to him.
“What is it, love?” He repeats to you, his voice gentle as you settle into his lap. He waits patiently as your mouth attempts to form the words.
“Just,” You sigh. “Just feeling a little needy.” You mumble against his chest. He squeezes you reassuringly, knowing how hard you sometimes find it to admit when you need help, especially during moments like this.
“Is my darling needy? Or my little darling?”
“Little.” You say in a small voice. He hums in understanding, adjusting his hold on you. He watches the tiny smile flicker across your lips when he bounces you on his leg like a child.
“What do you need?” He asks, but the words you need to say avade you. His eyes are drawn to your lips, puckered into a small pout, which are currently being torn at by your teeth. He notices the slight frown of frustration when your lip escapes the hold of your teeth. “Is my little darling teething?” He coos softly. You duck your head, nodding, your face burning at the confession. “Would you like me to get you some toys to chew on?” Your grip on him tightens as you shake your head. “No?” He reaches out to lift your chin up, only to notice how his hand caught your attention. “Ah, I think I know what my little one needs.” Your wide eyes meet his, as he smiles warmly at you. “Just need your daddy’s fingers to suck on, don’t you?” You nod shyly. He extends his two fingers towards your mouth, the end of them lingering against your parted lips. You take his fingers into your mouth with a delighted hum. “Make as much of a mess as you want little one.” He knows you enjoy sucking on his fingers, and in all honesty, he enjoys it too. He wants to see the drool coat your chin and drip down to a puddle in your lap. He wonders whether you’d get that far, or whether the embarrassment would snap you back to reality. You sit with his fingers against your tongue, saliva gathering in the corners of your mouth as you stroke your tongue along his digits. He hums at the sight of you. “This is what you needed wasn’t it, darling? Just needed to sit in your daddy’s lap, drooling over his fingers, with not a thought in that little head of yours, yes?” Your eyes roll back a little at his words. He always knows exactly what you need to hear. He strokes your cheek with his other hand. “Such a pretty little baby.” As he pets your cheek and hair affectionately, he continues to move his finger inside your mouth, drawing all kinds of pretty sounds from your throat. Once your eyes flutter closed he pulls his finger from between your lips. You whimper in quiet protest, but he’s quick to shush you, “You can have it back darling, don’t worry, daddy just wanted to see your pretty work.” He looks down at his wet fingers with a proud smile, before watching as the small smile lingers on your face, and admiring the glossy look in your eyes. To your satisfaction, he soon slides his fingers back into your mouth. “There you go.” He coos as you eagerly take them back. He would usually want to hear you thank him, liking when his baby is well-mannered, but he knows you’ve gone too silly to think straight so he lets you off this once. He does love to spoil you. “So good for me. Such a good little one for daddy.”
There was a soft scent of mint & cedar throughout the air.. The candles in the large room flickered and reflections bounced off the enchanting stainless glass windows.. you took a long slow sip of whiskey till the sound of flowing water finally stopped.. you placed your glass beside you when the floor creaked and the magestic hardwood doors began to open..
Your Baron appeared, draped in his royal blue bathrobe.. lips pursed, a lock of hair resting over his brow... he had a towel in one hand... bath oil in the other..
There was a darkness to the look in Zemo's eyes, a glint of something mischevious at play.. your mind flashed with risqué thoughts ... your eyes widened & your cheeks began to flush. The Baron took a soft step towards you through the broad doorway.
warnings: none? some mentions of anxiety and trust issues, and the reader is twenty-something, so age difference i guess. otherwise just a teeth rotting fluff and reader being very awkward and innocent. A lot of touches because im touch starved and touch is my language
im feeling pertty bad tonight and so im writing this instead of crying. please let me now what yo think and im really sorry if this is trash, it's just a draft. (also english isn't my first language)
Tick-tack, tick-tack. The sound of the old clock on the wall was somehow annoying, yet comfoting. You sipped your tea again, humming contentently at the sweet taste of the beverage. Your anxiety was acting up again, refraining you from entering the sweet realm of dreams, so here you were, drinking chamomille tea and staring at the empty streets of Madripoor through the windows in Zemo's hideout.
Sam had finally called you out on that favour you owed him, and you had gladly accepted, happy to finally leave your boring IT job for at least a few weeks. And that's when you had met him. Baron Helmut Zemo, the criminal. The one and only man who had single handedly torn the Avengers apart. You had expected him to be intimidating of course, but what you certainly didn't expect was getting a fucking crush on him. The man had a way of carrying himself, a confidence and bravado that made you weak in the knees. And not only that, he was definitely handsome, well-mannered and sweet.
God, no, i can't think of him like that -you thought,once you realized your mind had wandered towards the sokovian once again. You took a deep breath, leaving the now empty cup on the small table next to the couch. He's a criminal, for fuck's sake, and if he wasn't one, he's still waay out of my league, and-
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft footsteps and turned around to find no other than Helmut Zemo himself, staring at you
"Well, good evening, madame" he said, putting a turkish delight in his mouth while smiling at you "What brings you here so late?" he asked, sitting on the opposite corner of the small leather couch.
"I couldn't sleep" you said plainly, covering your body with the soft blanket you had been using.
"Ah, yes, the old good insomnia, he's a friend of mine too". He smirked, handing you a small paper bag "Have a turkish delight, you might as well eat something sweet".
You mumbled a thank you and put one of the small candies in your mouth, surprised at how good they tasted. " Wow, those are good!" you said, scooting closer to Zemo to give him back the bag "I've never tried them before".
Zemo smiled, "They've always been my favourite" he said, staring at you intently. You felt yourself redden under his gaze.
"What is it?" you asked nervously "Is there sugar on my face?" Zemo chuckled, bringing his thumb up to your chin.
"Yes, you have a little here" he said, his gaze now focused on your lips. Without even thinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, not shoving it away, just grabbing it gently.
"I'm sorry" he whispered, moving his hand away "I shouldn't had..."
"No, no, it's okay" you said, whispering too and moving his hand to cup your face, smiling at him to let him know you were all right.
"I freaked out for a second" you said, avoiding his gaze "Believe it or not, you are the first person to get this close to me" you mumbled, looking down, you voice barely audible. You didn't even knew why you were saying this, the words leaving your mouth without your permission.
Zemo pulled your head up gently "It's okay, sweet girl" he said, looking into your eyes and caressing your cheek with his thumb "We don't have to do antything you don't want, say the word and i'll leave"
"No, don't go", you said, getting closer to him and trying not to think too much "Just kiss me, please".
Helmut smiled and pressed his lips softly into yours, making the hairs on the back of yor neck stand up. It was a new sensation for you, but you relaxed and kissed him back, bringing your hand to his shoulders. He opened his mouth slowly and you totally gave into the kiss, the feeling overwhelming you. Helmut chuckled and pulled away, his forehead resting on yours.
"You taste sweet" he said, his breath just inches from you. You chuckled too, feeling your lips swollen and tingling, and hid your face on the crook of his neck, hugging him.
"May I ask..." he said, rubbing your back softly "You are so beautiful, and smart, how come you had never kissed anyone before? I don't mean to offend, draga, but I find it hard to believe no one ever wanted to".
You sit up and look at him, his hands now intertwined with yours "I've always been really shy, and like, anxious" you shrugged, embarrassed "I've kept to mysef, and i was never very into dating and parties...i'd rather be alone, i'm not good at trusting people".
Zemo nods "I understand, draga" he said, kissing your knuckles. "It's an honor for you to trust me to be your first kiss, I don't take it lightly. And i wanted you to know that i haven't kissed you only out of lust. In this weeks we've been together, I have developed some...well, feelings, for you" he said, moving a stray hair out of your face, his cheeks tainted pink. "And it's okay if you don't reciprocate them, i know i'm a difficult man- "
You cut him off by crashing your lips into his "I do, Helmut" you said, smiling into the kiss "I don't know how you did it, but you managed to make me crush on you". Helmut laughs and places a quick kiss on your lips, holding you tightly. "Well" he said "The candy helped".
ohhh this whole "comparing the reader and her child to zemo's ex-wife and son" really got me thinking. this has a great potential for a angst/happy ending request. I know this has probably been done before, but I'd love to see your take on this and dark!zemo, if you don't mind 🥺💜
For Zemo, this is definitely one of the best angsty prompts! I love writing dark!Zemo and I hope you enjoy it!
Title: His Perfect Girl
Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, implied forced pregnancy, dark
Daniel Brühl tag list: @anteroom-of-death
Marvel tag list: @geocookie21, @greeneyedblondie44, @purebloodwitch
Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou
You recoiled at Zemo’s words. They cut through you like a blade and you took a step back in shock. Zemo seemed to realise what he had said a moment too late. He reached out towards you but you shook your head and swiftly left the room. You wanted to be alone, to let his words fully sink in for you to realise one thing-
He would never love you.
You weren’t her. Your son wasn’t him. He was trying to rebuild the family that had been so cruelly snatched away from him and despite you trying so hard to please him you just couldn’t do it. Admittedly, it had taken you time to come around. Initially you had been reluctant to see Zemo’s point of view. That he had done everything for your benefit. He had taken you away for your own safety and the safety of his future children.
You finally reached your shared room and quietly shut the door behind you. You wiped the tears that had fallen down your face before throwing yourself onto your bed. You inhaled deeply and smiled at the scent of Zemo’s aftershave. It was a comforting scent that you now needed to properly get off to sleep. You remembered the dark times when you resisted sleeping in Zemo’s arms. How you clawed at him as he tried to calm you down. The gentle, loving kisses he peppered you with and you threw it back in his face. You were an idiot to believe that he actually loved him. This was his revenge for your bad behaviour. A soft knock at the door made you jump slightly but you didn’t raise your head.
“Y/n,” Zemo said softly, “May I come in.”
You heard the door open and shut with a soft click. You turned your back on him as Zemo walked towards you. The bed dipped as he sat down on the bed and you tensed as he put a hand on your head.
“I never should’ve said that,” he said, “It was unnecessarily cruel and most importantly, untrue.”
“Is it though?”
“Of course it is.”
He leant back and pressed his chest to your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tightly against him. He rested his head against your shoulder before pressing a kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“You’re beautiful,” he said at last, “And intelligent. You learnt that everything I’ve done for you is for your safety. You’re caring and you will be an excellent mother.”
He moved away slightly before turning you onto your back. You looked up at him as he brushed your tears away.
“There are similarities between the two of you,” he said, “But you are so much more than her and I intend to spend the rest of my life proving that to you. You will be the most spoiled woman in the world. I’ll give up everything for you and our child.”
He rested his head against your chest and put a hand on your stomach. He smiled as he felt your child kick before pressing a kiss against your stomach. He closed his eyes as you instinctively ran a hand through your hair. You knew that’s what he liked, those little moments of intimacy that he had practically forced you to learn. You knew better than to disobey him by now.
“Just continue what you’re doing,” he said softly, “And I’ll give you the world. My perfect girl.”
Hi, so I almost sent this as myself but I get a little nervous sometimes going off anon. I don’t quite know what to say, but I’m sorry that you’re going through this and I’m sending so many hugs and support your way.
Hoping it’s alright if I send a little idea into your inbox.
Imagine Zemo spending time with you just the two of you, taking a bath together if you’re into that and him making you both tea and spending time together, doing whatever you enjoy doing. I think Zemo would be great at providing support and taking care of someone, being there to listen and provide care and love for you. In the best way possible. Whether that was hugs, luxuriating in the silence, cuddling together, or whatever kind of sex you needed.
That man if he knows what's good for him would do all of this and then drag my ass to therapy oop
I would like to think he's got a massive tub with all the jets and bubbles and stuff. Oooooh and it's got one of the rainfall features on the ceiling imagine how romantic that could be. Who needs to go out and have a makeout montage in the rain when you can just do it at home in private where nobody can stop you from other romantic activities hmmmm.
But aside from that I think he would really just want to hold me and talk to me. And if I didn't want to talk then we would just lay under the blankets, maybe watch movies or something good. I think he could also tell me stories about his time as a teenager sneaking around with his friends at the fancy events he no doubt had to attend. Or maybe stupid stories about his men in the barracks that were funny.
And in all personal honesty I think he would tell me about how he coped with his time in the military and any ptsd he has because it could help me too.
A kindly remainder that this man is responsible of separating the avengers, exploit the UN, killing dozens of people including the king of FUCKING Wakanda, destroyed the winter soldier program, controlling Bucky, manipulating everyone and everything at his favor, killed Nagel and more people, destroyed the last super soldier serums, escaped the Doraj Milaje like el fucking chapo and succeeded arranged the murders of the last super soldiers with his butler without moving from his cell.
One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)
Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?
This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!
Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.
It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.
Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.
After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.
The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.
You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.
There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.
“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.
He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?
With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”
Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.
You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”
He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”
So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”
It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”
You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”
“More of a title,”
He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”
“Not like. I am,”
Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”
“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”
You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”
“Is that right?”
“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”
Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”
“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”
The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!
“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.
The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.
“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”
His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.
“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.
“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”
You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”
“And so smart,”
At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.
“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.
“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”
Your response was breathless; a confession.
“Not with you,”
Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.
“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.
With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”
That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”
You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”
“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”
That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.
Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”
“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.
For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.
“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.
Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”
“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?
“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.
“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.
You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.
“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”
You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.
“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”
You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.
He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.
“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”
Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.
The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.
You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.
For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.
It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.
“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.
You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.
“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.
The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.
“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.
Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.
“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.
“They have janitors,”
A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”
Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.
“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”
“Oh, you heard that?”
You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”
“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”
Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.
“There you are!”
“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”
There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.
They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?
Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”
The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.
“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.
The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”
“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”
You felt it was a good time to chime in.
“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…
“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”
You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”
He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”
As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.
“Who was that?”
“None of your business, James,”
“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”
“I believe that was my used rubber,”
a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!
Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3
Your entire being aches for Zemo, your only moment of reprieve is his elegant coat..
You close your eyes and slide into it once more.. The smooth satin interior of the coat is like a familiar warm embrace.. The soft fur collar brushing your cheek bones as you nuzzle up against it .. soaking into it.. as if it was the Baron himself..
Deeply breathing in the fading scent of Zemo's cologne mixed with hints of smoke & leather. Your desire for him is unmatched..
As you wrap the coat around you firmly the memories of him invade your every thought. His searing touch, the sadness in his eyes.. his intense longing for you.. .sudden flashes of bare skin, gentle caresses and dirty deeds..
Your senses are torturing you.. You would 'give' anything.. you would 'do' anything to feel.. to feel, just one more touch...just one more breath from his lips upon yours..
As you lay engulfed in the broken pieces of your soul.. you wrap your lovers coat tighter.. closer.. You swear you won't rest till he is in your arms once again..
For now, you must survive within a memory .. you must live wrapped in a yearning dream..
Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*
Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.
Word Count: 4.2K
A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!
Here’s the thing.
You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.
And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.
Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.
It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.
Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”
You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”
“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”
You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.
“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”
The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.
“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”
You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”
He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.
“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”
The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.
“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.
His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”
And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.
The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.
He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.
He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.
“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.
You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”
And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.
So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.
By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.
In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.
“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.
You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”
He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.
“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”
The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.
By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.
He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.
“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”
You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.
“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”
He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.
“For teasing you.”
You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.
“For embarrassing you.”
There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.
“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.
Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.
“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”
You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”
Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.
Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.
“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.
Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.
“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.
A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.
However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.
He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.
After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.
“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”
You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.
It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”
You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.
He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.
As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.
“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”
Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.
“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.
“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”
He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”
You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.
He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.
One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.
“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”
You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.
“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.
Then a bite.
“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”
And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.
“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.
“I’d let you do anything to me.”
He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.
“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.
The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.
“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.
It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.
You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.
“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”
You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.
His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.
“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”
And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.
As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.
Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.
He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.
His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.
“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”
This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.
Okay so Wandavision got 23 nominations and TFATWS has only 5??!
TFATWS is the only show/project by marvel dealing with real life issues, with a balance of mcu-type things like super soldiers and stuff, rather that just aliens and witches and glowing hands.
We don't get shows like TFATWS from marvel. We don't.
Loki is a bit problematic bc they messed up with the representation, Wandavision is a mess (no offence) but TFATWS? we have character development, action, real life issues eg racism and we get a BLACK CAP which is very important to me as a poc,
Summary | Falcon gains an interest in to as to why the reader and Bucky are spending so much time together after missions.
Warnings | the reader enjoying annoying Zemo and vice versa, swearing, hints at previous smut, threats
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
Without much care for the expense, you dived upon Zemo’s couch, that was within his secret hideout, closing your eyes, and laying upon the comfortable furniture. The Baron simply scoffed at your behaviour, whereas, Bucky concealed his amusement, to Sam’s dismay.
Since the Falcon had called for your help, along with Bucky’s, the two of you had gotten close, always tailing each other on missions to ensure that the other did not get hurt, and there being no snide remarks emitting from the once winter soldier in your presence.
He was an utmost gentleman, and that was when Sam Wilson realised, the old man was trying to court you, as was done with more respect and less bluntness back in his war zone days. The man could see the adoration resonating in the eyes of the other, and he went to open his mouth, until Bucky turned abruptly towards the kitchen, Zemo trailing back over to Sam and you.
At his presence, you groaned, feeling his judgemental and high ranking eyes glaring predominantly at you, clearly wishing to sit on the space that you were occupying. Though, you made no movement to move, and instead, kicked your shoes off.
Sighing, Zemo rolled his irises around in the pools of his white, finally giving in to sharing thus another luxury with you and your darned companions. “There are bedrooms upstairs, you may take one y/n.”
At that, you smirked, moving upright to stand, making it clear that it had been your plan all along. “Thank you so much Helmet, is it to the left?” He nodded, wishing to get his hands rid of your presence, that was keen to trail away.
“She used to be a con artist before she joined the team, it’s clear she still carries some of the attributes.” Sam mumbled out into the air, watching as Zemo squinted honourably towards him.
“You tell me that as though I did not do my research before I became invested in stopping all superheroes, her included.” He simply sipped his tea, twiddling with the foil of a Turkish delight as he sat down, pleased that he now could.
“Was that an threat towards her to me?” It was no surprise, they all knew not to trust this man, he had done enough damage when he was free the last time, and now, it would be strange to suspect any different from him.
“No, simply a statement for now. I’d not have included her if your Labrador of a super soldier was in this room, but to my luck, James is not.” Another sip of his drink became audible in the air, as Sam turned around.
He was right, Bucky was no longer within the walls of the room, and his eyes began to flicker. They’d have seen him exit if he decided to leave, perhaps but he had been an assassins for a long time, so who knew, and there was no sign that the front door had been opened, no cold air was blowing inside.
But, he could have went upstairs, and gone to another bedroom. Who was he kidding, he’d be in the same room, it all made sense! And all along, he had been right, there had been something to suspect.
Though, the investigative part needed to know that he was right, and so, he, with the shadow of Zemo that he was defiant with not leaving behind, for he could run, the pair walked quietly up the steps.
Zemo pointed to the door whence they had reached the landing, and Sam, with a strained face, opened the door quickly, only for you and Bucky to jump away from each other.
Your hands fell reluctantly from Bucky’s shoulders, and he himself licked his lips, trying to rid the evidence of your lipstick from his mouth. But it was to no avail working, the pair of you had been caught out, and surely, the two of you would never hear the end of this.
“I knew it!” Sam bellowed, pleased that he had been right to have his suspicions all along. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam, zipping up his fly that no one else but you, had realised had been undone. But the action drew attention to the feature, and it soon dawned on Sam that the pair of you must have just finished something before Sam had barged in. “Y’all are gross!”
“And you seem to be rather oblivious Samuel. It was clear that these two came up here to fuck, and I am surprised that you are only just discovering this now. Some would think you were asleep on jet, when the pair suddenly decided that they both needed to use the bathroom, or when I was beating up the dance floor in Madripoor, that you were incidentally left all by your lonesome as the two of them disappeared into the crowd.”
He took another sip of his tea that he had carried up here, and you crossed your arms, whilst Bucky scowled murderously towards the two men that had intervened where they shouldn’t have.
“The fact that you pay that close detail to us is weird.” You stated, your nostrils flaring as you stared at the Sokovian. “Do you not have anything better to do?” You retorted, causing Zemo to put his cup down on its adjoining plate that was held in his spare hand before he responded.
“Not really, no. Whilst you have taken me hostage, it is either watch the drama that is ongoing in your little group, or think about the mission ahead. And as much as I would like to kill Karli-“
“No.” Sam scolded him, frowning at the man, who only rolled his shoulders back before continuing, being strictly against taking a girls life, he allowed him to speak more, no matter how irritating the rest would be.”
“However, it has been clear to me from the very beginning what the two of you have been doing, and whilst this oaf has not accepted it, it was far too easy to put the pieces together. It’s like you never told him about that time that you used your con skills to make Sam get food whilst you were going against the accords, and Steve was occupied with bringing the team together, and you had some of your own fun in the front seat, where he had been sat.”
Sam’s eyes widened, and so did Bucky’s. “I’m going to kill you!” They both said simultaneously, Sam’s aimed at Bucky whilst Bucky’s words were prompted towards zemo.
“Seriously, you’re creepy dude!” You whisper shouted as you held Bucky back, Zemo smirking in reply.
“I hear things, and I’d say for a con woman, you speak far too much to your lover, and the walls here are only thin.” And with that, he picked his mug up once more, after having already spilt the tea.
Super, super sweet!—he’s lovey dovey the moment you hit your final orgasm, rough kisses turn to gentle, featherlike, kisses across your quivering skin as you work through the final wave of ecstasy. He strokes his fingertips down your tense abdomen, feeling the subtle shake traveling through your body in the final moments of your orgasm.
Afterwards—he hoarsely asks if you’re okay, caressing your cheek, as you lay next to him breathless. There’s a soft smile across his lips, as you close your eyes, swallowing, to gather yourself, before smiling. He presses a kiss to your forehead as you snuggle up against his side, resting your head on his bicep.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Loves your legs and back— you wear anything that significantly reveals either and it’s already on his mind. He loves how the curve of your back fits perfectly against his palm when you arch it, especially when you’re straddling his lap. During foreplay, he always kisses a trail along the inside of your thigh, with his hand either caressing your calf or stroking along the outside of your leg.
Lips— he loves your lips, sometimes when you’re talking or venting, on a roll about something, you’ll find him just staring at your lips. He is notorious for open mouth kisses, out of nowhere just kissing you, sometimes whilst you’re talking, but mostly when you just don’t expect it.
As for himself, he’s probably say his hands, so he can feel you and mouth, cause he could kiss you all day long.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Together— you don’t know how but somehow he knows how to get you both there at the same time. Your breath starts to hitch as you squeeze your legs against him. You hear him whisper a few curses and feel him grip your hips a little rougher, keeping you in place, as you both cum.
On other occasions or positions— seeing it drip down the arch of your back is insanely attractive, as he dips to breathlessly kiss between your shoulder blades.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Loves being cuffed— there’s something about the metal, feel and sound. Plus he loves the challenge of feeling you up whilst in handcuffs, a lot of times he’ll bring his hands to the back of your neck, pulling the cuff links tight against the nape of your neck, bringing you and holding you deep into a kiss.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Obviously, yes, he’s had experience— he absolutely knows what he’s doing, in fact he’s the only one who’s been able to get you on a new level of pleasure via him just knowing what he was doing. When you asked him how he knew where to hit, he lifts an eyebrows and simply replies “I have experience.”
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)
He’s really game for it all— whatever you’re comfortable with, he’s comfortable with. That means if halfway through you want to switch, he’s good with that.
Anything with you beneath him, chest to chest; he really does love absolutely making out while fucking you, so a lot of face to face works best for that— your knees pressing against his sides, your nails slowly scratching across his back, him giving fresh hickeys to your neck, and hands exploring your body while he slips his tongue in your mouth.
Tabletop— could literally be on a table, counter, or just the edge of the bed. Either way, you’re clinging to the surface’s edge, trying to keep yourself positioned at the very edge for him, (in bed, the bed posts can help), his fingertips are leaving bruises against your hips or his hand is wrapped around the ankle you have resting up against his shoulder, he presses kisses against the inside of your ankle as he fucks you.
Doggy style—he loves the beautiful curve of your back so what better than fully seeing it. He presses his thumbs against the small of your back, and typically has a hand stroking up and down your spine.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
It’s definitely more serious, but it’s also always fun and extremely satisfying— his charm allows him to swoon you, keeping it a heated and romantic setting, but he can’t help but chuckle in between kisses to your skin when your jaw drops and your take a breath staggering gasp, clinging onto him, feeling things you’ve never felt before.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Literally perfect— he’s surprisingly good at knowing how you want it based on your actions leading up to the moment. He knows if you want it more rough and kinky, or if you just want to feel adored like a princess, made to feel good.
Accent— you love hearing him say anything in that gorgeous accent and he knows it, thus he sweet talks you, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm.
He checks in on you— the occasional “doing okay, Darling?”, “use your words, tell me, princess,” and “I’ve got you, just ride it out,” make it very personal and sweet amidst it.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Not really a thing with him, if he wants it he’s going to wait, he loooves sexual tension/anticipation, it makes the sex 10x better.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Temperature play—ice. He loves watching your skin shiver as he trails a path across your body with an ice cube. Also, he’ll kiss you and have a sliver of ice in his mouth, sliding it against your bottom lip with his tongue.
Handcuffs— either way (see D), it’s the challenge for him, and the look of them and you that he loves so much. Also loves the feeling of them against him when you’re clinging on to him.
Has a bit of a kink for you being the only one undressed— this is where you just rolling your hips down on him hard, holding close with two fingers behind his belt buckle comes in. Also, thigh riding, he loves to see you get yourself there, only occasionally helping out, loving how desperate you are for his attention, physically.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Bedroom— it’s the atmosphere of the room that’s amazing, it’s intimate, silk sheets, candles, old wooden bed frame posts that have bruised your back from being pushed against. He likes to see your skin glow in the candlelight with a slight shimmer from the sweat you’re breaking together
Cars— those classic cars have had a Titanic moment or two. It’s extremely intimate, and the sound of your breaths, moans, and screams sound great in a tightly contained area.
Shower— warm water cascading down your body, keeping you nice and wet in every way. The shower’s obviously lavish and has plenty of room, plus glass walls.
↳ similarly, bathroom countertop sex— with the room still humid and hot, you’re set atop the cool counter’s surface, back pressing against the mirror as you hang on to the edge or the faucet head for some grounding.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you undress— watching you slip of out a dress, casually pull a sweatshirt over your head, shimmying out of your jeans, etc. he just loves seeing more and more of your skin slowly become exposed. Which makes changing in the morning a longer process than need be.
Kisses— making out with him enough will get him pretty turned on, French kisses, love bite kisses, soft and sweet, really enough of anything and you’ll find you finally have a little control when you pull back and he leans in, not wanting to break the kiss.
You in his clothes— dress shirts, sweatshirts, his jacket, you name it, he likes to see you wearing his things.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing demeaning— he wants to make you feel worshiped, perfect, and on cloud nine, so it’s a no go to the exact opposite
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Giving— for starters he likes to have the leverage in situations and you at the mercy of his mouth counts. He’s phenomenal at completely and totally getting you all the way there with just his mouth. His hands are always either holding your hips down, or stroking along your legs, outside, inside, caressing your calf etc.
↳ when you try to close your legs, he easily pushes the inside of your knee back out again, with a chuckle you can feel vibrating against your clit.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Two types: slow, sensual, and deep & hard, dominant, and passionate
↳ slow, sensual, and deep: it’s extremely romantic and makes you feel adored, he takes time to get every sense awake in your body before giving you what, by that point, you desperately want. And when he does it’s almost instantly met by you softly sighing with a smile, “right there, baby,” as you flutter your eyes closed, lips parting.
↳ hard, dominant, and passionate— he’s fucking you like he hasn’t seen you in years. It’s a little rough, sometimes kinky, very dominant sex. You have some seriously intense, pupils blown with pleasure, screaming orgasms that leave you shaking, not to mention unable to walk straight. Typically includes multiple orgasms for you.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He’s not opposed to them at all, the amount of time doesn’t determine the quality with him.
For example: you’ve definitely fucked in a club bathroom before (these are nice, fancy clubs)— already making out you pull him into the room and he kicks the door shut, locking it. Setting you on top of the counter roughly, you get at it. Desperately holding onto the edge of the countertop as he fucks you, kissing your neck and holding your hips in place.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Not particularly— if there’s any shake up you want to try or add, you definitely talk about it first, having a comfortable atmosphere during sex is always important to him so you can feel safe and boundaries are set.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Not including teasing / oral, typically two— and those are two very intense rounds, it’s not a quickie. Proper sex with him lasts a good while, so brace yourself if you make it to a third round.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A whole lot— it’s exactly that, unfair. With how much he teases you, you’ll be dripping wet before your clothes are even entirely off.
Playing hard to get— oh yes, he plays that game with you, if you’re trying to subtly come on to him, he’ll act like he has no idea what you’re trying to imply, making you more frustrated and him happier seeing you want it so bad but trying to counter his calmness.
Leaving you to think about it— he’ll start the foreplay, but then in the middle tell you that he’s needed elsewhere, leaving you to think about what he had started all day long, this usually results in you wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply the instant he walks back through the door
At events— typically well behaved, unless it’s completely boring. He’s had his hand under the table and up your skirt/dress more than once though, quickly pulling away when you were almost there. This is when sex when you’re barely through the front door happens.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He’s personally relatively quiet— usually it’s because his mouth his preoccupied with bruising and musing your skin, but in between there’s throaty breaths and sweet nothing whispered.
Prefers to hear you— seriously, he loves hearing every whine, moan, whimper, scream, breath, gasp, and giggle you make.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
Plenty to be satisfied by— above average, but he’s not the guy to talk about it. If you have the pleasure of knowing, then you know full good and well.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
It’s pretty damn high— he just really really knows how to hide it until it’s the exact moment. He has a lot of sexual charisma without even trying, yet he typically remains totally calm about it until you’re the first one to take action, asking or physically.
HOWEVER— there are days where you’re headed out the door, and he catches a glimpse of your cute outfit. As you’re saying goodbye he catches you gently by the wrist and starts walking with you towards the bedroom “Baron,” you giggle, tossing your head back and following his lead, “I’m going to be late.” Catching up with him at the door, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, “you’re not going to be late,” he caressed your cheek, “you’re going to be altogether absent.”
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You definitely fall asleep first— he likes watching you fall asleep afterwards, his fingertips still ghosting across your skin, as you make sure to keep yourself close to him.