#tfatws zemo

[mgenchanted]

Winterbaron

[halfofmysoulsblog]

Touch in the Dark - Baron ZemoxBlack!Reader

Summary: Baron Zemo was the last person you should have been attracted to. The last.

Sam hated to do this to you, but he was sure that this was the only way to keep John off his and Bucky’s back. You? You didn’t like this idea at all. Not many people knew Sam had another sibling outside of Bucky of whom you met just a few weeks ago when all this started. You lived alone on the outskirts of New York, a personal preference of yours, and nobody came poking around too much. Both men knew John wouldn’t come looking here, and if Zemo were smart, he wasn’t going to leave.

“You’re kidding,” In disbelief, you stare between the two, your eyes narrowing into a glare the longer you stared at them. Sam was already pleading with his eyes, and Bucky just shrugged, giving you an apologetic smile. “We’ll be back in a few days, okay? We just need some time. You’ll be fine. She will kick your ass, I hope you know that,” Bucky points out, patting this strangers back, and the man rolls his eyes. Sam is stepping forward, gently grasping your arms. “Just keep him here is all we’re asking. I owe you. Anything you want,” You sigh in annoyance. “I gave up a date for this, but fine. Fine,” You shoo them away, raising a brow once the two quietly shuffled outside.

You should’ve said no.

From the very moment Baron Zemo spoke, you never wanted to strangle a man more. He was cocky, annoying, and had this accent that infuriated you. What you thought was going to be a few days turned into a week. Those few days, at first, were quiet. You learned that he was gauging things. You included. He started with small questions that you didn’t answer simply because he had put a damper on your plans. That however wasn’t the only reason you had a dislike for the man. Once you knew who he was, and what he’d done, you had an instant disliking of him.

All things aside though, the man was just annoying. He sometimes spoke in German just to annoy you, always smiling when he seemed to hear you huff or glare in his direction. He was always complaining about going outside knowing he shouldn’t, but kind of could because nobody would see him. He was always talking about how American television sucks, and that he could make better television shows. He was this constant nagging in your ear. You couldn’t necessarily contact your brother and his sometimes grouchy friend, so you had to put up with this man who loved to annoy the ever-loving shit out of you. From the moment you woke up, there he was, right up under you, hounding you about your little home and how boring it was around there. At first, you just ignored him until he seemed to get the gist and leave you be. Today however, he was gravitating on your nerves to no end, seemingly wanting to get a response out of you.

“Oh come on Liebe, you do the same things over and over again,” You swivel on your feet, coffee mug in hand, pressing it against his chest. “First…don’t call me….whatever that was. Second, will you please be quiet for one minute? You’re so fucking annoying it’s ridiculous!” Your eyes narrow into a glare as a smirk flows on his face. “I’m seriously going to kill you,” You mutter before walking around him. “I don’t think your brother would like that very much!” He calls after you, and you turn around to reply. “Go fuck yourself,” You murmur, watching him warily as he walks towards you. He’s stepping into your space, grabbing your coffee mug. “Are you going to watch?” He simply asks, tilting his head at you, taking a sip from your cup. You can’t sputter up a response, blinking at him in surprise.

Bold. That’s what that was. Also, unsuspecting. Was he teasing you? Well of course he was. He got a rise out of you. That seemed to be his goal.

He's handing you back your coffee, leaving you standing in your living room.

*****

“I don’t understand…” He murmurs, motioning towards the TV. You grab the remote, hitting pause, looking over at him. “I just explained this to you. Forget about the stupidity of it all. The books are trash now, but the movies are cinematic. She’s a teenage girl who falls in love with a vampire. Not much is going to make sense. Just watch,” You grab the remote, hitting play, glancing over at Zemo in annoyance as he grabs a handful of your popcorn. You pull the bowl away, huffing quietly. “And don’t touch my popcorn,” In response, he reaches over, grabbing another handful, and you scoot away, glaring at him. “Just watch the fucking movie,” You huff, digging your hand into the bowl, a surprised intake of air leaving you as he’s reaching over, an arm coming around your back, pulling you back to where you sat moments prior. He doesn’t say anything, and you can’t find a word to say as he grabs another handful.  

Zemo sat beside you for the remainder of the night, unbothered, watching the Twilight movies with you, occasionally asking questions and grumbling about how stupid the characters were. Despite how annoyed he made you, you couldn’t disagree with his assessments. Your eyes were starting to droop after a while, having finally got to the second to last movie. He’d since finished off your popcorn, and your head was lolling to the side, bobbing between nothing and his shoulder. Eventually, you couldn’t keep your head up any longer, and you’re leaning against him, your head resting over his shoulder.

You only woke once afterwards, when you felt your body being placed elsewhere. Your eyes had to adjust to the dark, the light from the living room lightly filtering into your room. His hand is moving from behind your head, and you glance up at him sleepily. “Tucking me into bed now? Gonna read me a story?” You mumble, your eyes already closing again. “In your dreams Liebe,” He murmurs, stepping away. You turn over on your side, placing your hands under your head. “Stop calling me that,” You whisper, already slightly snoring as sleep claims you once again.      

****

The next day, anger wouldn’t have been the words to describe how you felt. The following morning, you had just walked out of the bathroom after having showered for the day. Zemo was already awake, dressed in the robe Sam left over once and never took back. That’s not what you cared about though. It was the book in his hand, the sequels sitting in a stack on your coffee table. “Where did you get that?” You question, slowly walking into the living room, your quest to the kitchen forgotten. “I ordered it. I wanted to know the difference between the movies and see just how trashy this series is as you say,” “Obviously, but you have no phone…or money….so…how did you get it?” He’s flicking his eyes to you over the book, and you cross your arms over your chest, feeling slightly exposed the longer he stared.

Your tank was tight around you, hanging low on your chest, your spandex shorts barely coming mid-thigh.

That stupid smirk grows on his face before he’s meeting your narrowed gaze. “I opened your laptop; you should have a password by the way…” “I do,” You interrupt lowly, and he’s continuing without care. “I went to that shopping thing, Amazon, and ordered them. I have cash to reimburse you with,” He’s pulling out more than you know the books costs, even in a bundle, and he lays it by the books, going back to reading. “I want you to know that I despise you with every fiber of my being,” You reply, making your way over and snatching the cash from the table, also snatching up your laptop. “Also, don’t touch my shit,” You start to make your way back to your room before he’s saying something that makes you pause. “You’re a very good writer,” You stand in the hall, holding your breath at his words, the room descending into silence, only the turning of the page sounding seconds later. You turn your head to look at him, and he’s seemingly ignoring you.

“You read it?” He just nods, humming out a yes. You couldn’t say anything in response to that, and he meets your gaze, the playfulness seemingly gone as he stares at you. You simply purse your lips before turning away and walking back to your room. You never let anyone read what you wrote. Not even Sam. Not even Sarah. Nobody could see your work until you were finished, or you felt like it was no longer perfect. You felt like the magic would disappear if anybody laid their eyes on it.

*****

Your fingers can barely reach the zipper, and your phone kept going off. “Fuck,” You mutter, groaning in frustration. You’d been in the bathroom for over ten minutes just trying to reach the zipper. Because god forbid you’d ask him to help you. That week has turned into a month, and you’ve come to think that maybe they forgot about their prisoner of sorts. Last you knew, Sam and Bucky were in another country looking for super soldier serum and keeping their eyes on John after that brutal public display. That’s all the information Bucky could give you before hanging up abruptly with an apology and a promise to take you to Bath and Body Works upon their return.

Zemo was still the same. Annoying. Always in this odd calming mood no matter what, and mercilessly enjoyed bantering with you on anything and everything. He was also, and you would never tell him this, okay company. His annoyance aside, he knew how to share quiet space, and he seemed to enjoy a good movie every once in a while. He complained all day after reading the Twilight books, vehemently agreeing with your judgement of the writing of the stories. He still ate out of your popcorn bowl even when you gave him one of his own, and he had this stupid habit of calling you Liebe.

He didn’t tell you what it meant, and a google search went no where because you didn’t know how to spell it.

He apparently liked the way you glare at him when he says it because he just says it again.

He was infuriating.

Now however, he might be useful.

Opening the bathroom door, you make your way out of the bathroom, poking your head out into your room to see if you could hear him. You could hear the shower water going from the other bathroom on the other side of the house and you internally groan at having to do this now. Making your way out of your room and down the hall, you sigh before knocking loudly on the bathroom door. “Zemo? Can I come in? This will only take a moment,” Not hearing a response, you knock louder before opening the door. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t reach the zipper,” You’re shielding your eyes with a hand, fumbling with your hand to keep yourself upright. You only walk in a few steps before your hand is pressing against a wet chest, and you yank your hand away, clearing your throat.

“Sorry….I um…can you zip me up?” You turn around, and he doesn’t say anything or even do anything, and you wonder if something was wrong. Before you can ask him anything, he’s pressing a hand on your hip, his skin warm, the other slowly zipping up the zipper on your dress. “Thank you,” You whisper. His hand is gone, leaving you feeling a certain type of way. “I’ll be back tonight….I don’t have to tell you not to leave….but don’t….I made dinner…I hope you like Mac n’ Cheese….and there is some chicken. I baked and fried some….and oh…cornbread muffins in the oven…” You were rambling now, your hand still planted over your eyes.

His hand is suddenly removing yours, and he’s standing in front of you, his hair wet from the shower, and a quick glance down ensures he has a towel around his waist. His eyes briefly pass over you before he’s nodding. “I understand. Have fun,” A small, small, smile appears on your face before you’re walking around him.

*******

Your date didn’t exactly go the way you wanted it to. Chris was his name. Really nice, an aspiring nurse. The two of you had been texting ever since you had to postpone that date when Zemo arrived, and since getting into a routine where you felt it was okay to leave the man alone, you felt like the two of you could finally go out.

It wasn’t anywhere near what you thought it would be. You were expecting a nice quiet restaurant, only for him to take you to a sports bar instead, and that of course made you feel way overdressed. All he did was talk to you about sports and nursing. While he was dressed casually, you ignored it mostly as after the two of you left, he decided to go on a walk with you. Now that sounded much better than the hour prior, and he had taken you to a nearby park where the two of you walked in silence for a little bit. Your feet eventually started to get a bit sore as he wanted to walk the whole trail that was lit up nicely.

As you were starting to slow a bit, you spot a bench, and you lightly gesture to it to which he almost seemed confused before realizing your feet were hurting. As he sits alongside you, he’s holding out a hand to obviously take your sore feet in his hands. “You don’t have to,” You murmur, but he’s already gently lifting your left calf into his lap before swiping your shoe off. Your eyes close as he gently massages, squeezing the aching flesh between his strong hands. Your eyes only close for a minute before you felt his hand sliding up your leg. “Woah, woah….” You open your eyes to look at him, placing your hand over his. “This is our first date…” You slowly pull your leg away, rearing back as he just slides his hand up further under your dress this time. “We’re alone and nobody is going to see…” You shove his hand away, glaring at him. “That’s not the point. I’m not comfortable, and I don’t want you touching me intimately especially on a first date,” You grab your shoe, angrily slipping it on.

Seeing as he made you upset, he’s quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I’ll take you home,” Whether Sam looked at his phone or not, you sent him your location when Chris stepped away to give you some privacy. He did in fact take you home, and you were willing to forgive his indecent behavior from earlier as he seems to sincerely apologize about making you uncomfortable. You even let him lean in for a kiss, and the kiss itself is sweet, maybe not enough to make up for your expectations, but it was nice. Until he was ruining it by once again placing a hand on your inner thigh, sliding it up without much of a care to gauge the energy. With a groan of frustration, you swat his hand away, pushing him away.

“What?” He asks, confusion etched on his features. “Lose my number, okay?” With a huff, you step out, harshly slamming the truck door and stomping your way up to the porch. Was it too hard to ask for a nice guy? He didn’t have to be a saint, but someone who knew boundaries.

Someone who could understand you. Like he used to. When you walked inside the house, Zemo was laying on the couch, watching television, and he’s looking up as you walk in. He sits up, pausing the tv. “You do not look very happy,” He notes, coming to a stand. You just shake your head, kicking off your shoes. “No, but I’ll be fine,” You didn’t get very far before he was grasping onto your hand. It felt weird, but not unwelcomed. He’s coming to stand in front of you, taking in your almost sweating appearance. He’s swiping a strand over your head, seemingly trying to get a good look at you.

 “Are you hurt? Why are you all…” He just motions his hand at you. Did he just ask about your physical safety? His lips pull into a frown the longer you take to answer him. “Liebe?” There’s that word. “Hm? I’m fine…fine. Date didn’t really pan out the way I thought it would is all,” You pull away from him, walking around him, and he follows you curiously. “Why not?” He asks, and you could almost feel him as he traveled behind you. “You really care to know?” You ask, your hand reaching for the zipper. Without having to ask, he’s unzipping your dress, his hand moving away before you could think too long about his touch. “Sure,” He replies, staying outside your bedroom door and you walk into your room, sliding the dress off your shoulders. You peer over your shoulder, seeing his shadow, but not him.

“Well…we went to a sports bar…” You mutter, and you can briefly see as he leans against the door frame, his back to you. “But you were dressed for a fancier evening, yes?”

Part 2 will be uploaded at 8:30pm MST. It’s not an ending type this is it ending but I think it will do.

[livrere-purple]

Sam: Yeah, we really hate each other, but I would fuck you if you asked.

Bucky: What?

Sam: What?

Zemo, in the background, eating turkish delights: You said you would fuck him if he asked.

[mandofury]

Zemo talking about his time with Sam, Bucky, and their sexual tension:

[scuttle-buttle]

Don't Let Go

Summay: Zemo keeps the holster on.

WC: 2098

Rated: E

Tags: smut, on the rough side, dom!zemo, some dub/con type vibes at certain points (but it is all consensual of course), tall!plus size!reader, body image issues about size, no stated use of protection, uh yeah

A/N: um. Look. Your guess is as good as mine as to where this came from and after me not being able to write for months. I started this in June, got stuck, stopped, forgot i started writing it, randomly was going thru my wips for #nostalgia today, and then this happened. Sad to report no further progress on Heist tho. I’m hoping very soon. Bone app the teeth?

🖤

You remember when you had the conversation. Only a few nights ago on a Friday, barely more than a week since first going on the run with him, you and the Baron drank a few glasses of his expensive scotch at the new safe house, and you had found yourself opening up about fantasies, or lack of.

"Come now, Schatz - there must be something you have been intrigued to."

A simple shrug is what you give. "Maybe a few times…. But it's not something I put much thought into or anything like that." You take a sip, the alcohol rough in its burn.

"Why is that?" he questions without missing a beat.

Meeting his gaze across the couch you see he's been watching you the entire conversation, as though there is nothing that even comes remotely close to being more important than whatever silly ideas you have to share. “I mean I’ve spent my whole life as this bigger, intimidating person. Hell, I’m taller than you, by what an inch and a half? And most people that much, if not more,” you lightly scoff and sip again from your tumbler of scotch. “It wasn't something feasible being bigger I guess-” you gesture to your torso “-so I dropped the ideas before it could really set in as something I wanted. I told you - I'm always on my own and having to do my own thing. Had to get a grip on my life and be an independent woman and all that," you chuckle.

Zemo had been more than thorough in acquainting you with the basics of intimacy the last week; yet he let you take the lead as much as possible. Almost entirely, truly. You weren't at the point of anything wild or experimental, nor were you brave enough to try going rogue. So it was easy, it was standard - not that you had any complaints. But Helmut was adamant that it was you who controlled how he kissed you, how he touched you, how he broke your body and soul piece by piece in the long hours of the night.

You look across the room into the flickering light of the fireplace. Quieter, you add "just once I’d like to feel like the small one in a situation, to have to look up to someone literally and figuratively, to not feel like I’m too big and to just be able to let someone else make the choice for me." Looking back at him and speaking a little more blase, you finish "but I don't know. That's about as far as I got."

“I like looking up at you, Schatz, it’s like looking at an angel,” Helmut whispers. Since you had unofficially gotten together after escaping Riga he was constantly praising and complimenting you. You always expected to feel like he was just flattering you, but he made it such a point to talk about your intelligence, kindness, generosity, humor, and how beautiful he found you in equal parts.

You don't bother fighting back your grin. “I’m sure you do, Baron.” Downing the rest of your drink you tell him you are tired and head off to bed with a kiss.

Helmut had business to attend into the late evening. You made yourself busy reading some old book from the safe house’s upstairs library. The sun set as you read. Oranges and pinks and purples cast the room in a peaceful glow as you engulfed yourself in tales of times gone by. Maybe three hours later you hear him call out for you, breaking you from your page; “Schatz, could you come down here?”

Excitement bubbles within you at his arrival. “Be down in a sec!” You closed the book and placed it on the desk. Wandering around in the darkness you think you hear him in the kitchen. You call out “Helmut are you-” as you reach for the light switch when a shadowy figure backs you into a wall, knocking the breath you had from your lungs. For a second you panic, heart beating wildly out of your chest, until you see a glint of that familiar chocolate in the shadow’s eyes. The white-knuckled grip you have on the fabric of his top relaxes.

Pressed up against the kitchen wall by the man, you can just make out that he's clad in his gear. A thick burgundy turtleneck covers the expanse of his broad chest, the leather straps of a holster secured around his shoulders. Sturdy combat boots brush the sides of your ankles from where he has trapped your legs between his. The shoes give him an extra inch compared to your barefoot state, in addition to the commanding way he carries himself at present. Even as his gaze is eye level with your own like this he looks as if he towers above you.

Searching his eyes as best as you can in the limited light, you attempt “Hel what-”

A calloused palm cups the skin of your cheek, his thumb pressing softly against your mouth and silencing you. He says nothing; you wait, swallowing in anticipation. The digit glides slowly along the seam of your lips before pushing slightly between. You don't mind the intrusion, instead finding the taste of his skin intoxicating as you run the tip of your tongue over him. Pupils flit from your own to where his thumb rests. Zemo sighs. Feeling the fire within your core ignite you decide to take initiative, giving a gentle nip before sucking delicately on the pad of his thumb.

There is no mistaking the way his eyes blacken. The softness in his tone doesn’t match the formidability of his presence as he whispers “My Leibling…”

Zemo’s body presses yours further into the wall with such force it tears a gasp from you; his lips and tongue ravage yours with such a ferocity unlike anything you’ve known. Hands clutch at your jaw like vices. The thought crosses your mind that perhaps his fingertips might leave bruises. Nevertheless, you can’t be damned to stop him, especially not when you feel the beginnings of his hardening cock pushing into your hip, or the wetness seeping between your legs.

Finally, when the burn in your lungs becomes too great he breaks away and instead attaches his mouth to your throat. You have no doubt he can feel the pounding of your heart where he sucks and bites at your flesh. The Baron slides a hand under the edge of your top. His fingers are hot where they dig into your soft side. A feeble attempt to maneuver your hands to remove your shirt results in a tsk from him, his own larger ones moving to rip the fabric of your nightshirt right down the middle and exposing your peaked breasts to the cool air and his hungry stare. “Fuck - Helmut, what’s- ugh-” a particularly hard pinch to your nipple breaks your concentration, “what’s gotten in to you?” The question comes out as a moan.

Instead of an answer he tugs at the waistband of your shorts. With your reassuring nod he pushes them over your wide hips and thick thighs. Not a minute later he’s pulled a leg to wrap around his hip and opens you up to the grind of his still-clothed cock. “Don’t think, Leibling, just feel,” he commands.

The material of his pants rubs a delicious friction; your juices soaking through the fabric. You can feel the inferno growing. Breathy moans fill the near-silent kitchen. “Mein Gott, Draga I can feel how wet you are. Does this excite you? To know that you are enough to drive the great Baron Zemo to such primal need? To such depravity as to not even give you the luxury of a bed, but instead to have you right here and at my mercy?” He punctuates his statement with a harsh roll of his hips.

You whine in need. The pressure between your hips grows, you need him more than you can bear to think. Quickly you move to undo the fastening of his trousers between you. He does not stop you, only slows his movements to make it easier for you to work. When his bared cock finally rubs along your soaked core you manage to whimper a pathetic please. Helmut’s grip on your leg around his hip remains firm. He uses his free arm to place each of your hands on the straps of his holster along his pectorals. You pull on the leather as if to test its strength. There is barely enough room for your wrists between you where your chests are crushed together.

Suddenly Zemo drops as he leans to wrap his free hand underneath the leg that still supports your weight; his brute strength lifts you completely before you realize what he’s doing. “Wait no- Helmut I’m too-”

“No.” Zemo snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion.

“Oh my god.” You sound pathetic as you keen at the fullness within you.

Both of his hands support you under the soft curve of your upper thighs. You tighten your legs around the small of his back on instinct. Panic surges through you despite the wonderful feel of him inside you. You aren’t small, you weigh too much, you’ll hurt him.

He jerks his shoulders minutely to bring your attention to where your fingers are wrapped around his holster straps. “Do not let go, Draga. Do you understand?”

“But-”

“Do you understand, Leibling?” he asks again, this time more demanding than you’ve ever heard.

“Yes.”

The first slam of his cock is fierce. It is precise. It is beyond any sort of pleasure you’ve ever felt, to have this man fucking you within an inch of your life as he all but cradles your body within the palm of his hand like it was your destiny to be there. Through all your sobs and cries of ecstasy he does not let up on the onslaught. Each thrust hits deep within you. His hips angle to brush your bundle of nerves with every movement. The peaks of your breasts tease and graze his sweater; probably an unfair advantage for him to be clothed and yet you at his complete mercy. You can’t fault how the sensation only heightens your euphoria. This time you know for sure his fingertips will paint your thighs with their memory for days to come; will create a masterpiece along the expanse of your skin that no Van Gogh or Picasso or Da Vinci could ever hope to produce.

Your release comes all too quickly at his attentions. Helmut doesn’t let up, nor does he seem to even break a sweat at his herculean task. At one point you swear you feel the leather straps start to give under the chokehold of your fists as he orders you to come again along his shaft, his words leaving no room for you to think otherwise.

Helmut reaches his own peak as your channel tightens around him, the growl of your name against your temple like a bolt of electricity. Hips slowing to a gentle roll, he does not pull himself from you, instead adjusting his hold under you to keep you pinned between his body and the wall. Your forehead comes to rest on his shoulder. The Baron drops sweet kisses to your temple, to your cheek, as you both come down from your high.

“Mmmm…Maybe you should put me down now? My legs are sore,” you mumble into his sweater, flexing your thigh and calf muscles where they still circle his waist.

“And if I do not want to? What then, my Leibling?” At your answering groan he hums in contentment before slowly removing himself from you, moving from the wall, and carrying you to the loveseat in the next room. Oversized boots thump with each step. The loose pants hanging from his knees slow his walk to a shuffle. He sits, situating you in his lap. Zemo looks down to see your fingers still wrapped around the holster. With a smile he says “you may let go now, Schatz. You did so well for me, such a good girl.”

It takes your digits a moment to cooperate as you untangle them from their place. “I’m not sure I can move my hands…?”

Helmut chuckles at your admission, taking your hands in each of his. He brings them to hip lips and places delicate kisses on them. Carefully he begins to massage your fingers and palms; “well, we must see to that, shouldn't we?”

(I'll be honest idk who is on my tag list for zemo since I haven't written for him in like 9 months sorrry)

Tag list: @ay0nha @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander @ntlmundy @dragon-baron @anteroom-of-death @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @multiversemarielle @trashbin2 @whatawildone @laura-naruto-fan1998 @greeneyedblondie44 @godidontevenknowwhat @lorna-d-m @hardlyinteresting @marchingicenotes7 @earlgreysandcloudydays

[roguelov]

Dove

Summary: In order to get information on the serum, you, Bucky, and Sam along with Zemo have to go undercover in Madripoor. So, you have been given the role of acting as Zemo’s love interest but with an already somewhat flirty relationship where will this go?

Reader: Gender neutral

Word Count: ~6k

Warning: None, mainly just follows episode 3 of TFATWS. Just fluff and some teasing

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

Unfortunately, Zemo neglected to inform yourself and Sam of your roles in this plan of his. Before you could ask, the plane landed and Zemo ordered a car whisking all four of you away to a city an hour or more away from Madripoor.

You stepped out of the sleek black car and eyed the quaint tailor shop squeezed between two other buildings. The front of the shop appeared to be in poorer condition to the other surrounding buildings. The brick faced wall crumbled, the windows had iron bars, and the large sign hanging over the door was missing a handful of letters. The only indication that it was a tailor shop was the vintage pictures from different eras of men in waistcoats and suits as well as a fully dressed mannequin in the window.

You looked left and right to see the cityscape of shops, apartments, and restaurants, however at this late hour very few were opened in this part much like the shop in front of you. Not another soul in sight.

Zemo, however, didn’t seemed bothered by the closed sign hanging on the front door as he strolled up.

You turned to Sam and Bucky on your left who looked just as confused as you were. You leaned towards Sam who stood the closest to you. “Do you have any idea what we are doing? I thought we were going to Madripoor?”

“You and me both,” he muttered.

Zemo gently knocked on the door. In an strange pattern, you realized. He stepped back and waited. In seconds, the door opened revealing an older woman. Her grey hair pulled back into a low bun as glasses hung around her neck on a golden chain.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of Zemo. “Helmut! Oh, it’s so lovely to see you.”

Zemo grinned at the woman. “And the feeling is mutual, Naomi.”

Her eyes drifted past his shoulder to you, Sam, and Bucky. She squinted her eyes then leaned in to Zemo. A few hushed words past between them then she looked back at the three of you as a wide smile graced her lips.

“Well, come in, please. It’s a bit cold to be standing out here.” She moved aside ushering Zemo in.

You, Sam, and Bucky shared a look. You exhaled loudly then stepped up first walking into the shop. You smiled as you passed the woman. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Oh, nonsense. Anything for Helmut and his friends.”

Friends?

Walking in further, you were taken back by all the fabric material and the mannequins adorn with high end outfits. A rich oak wood covered the room, with spotless floors. Button ups of every color hung on racks while trousers were neatly folded on hand carved tables. It was a sharp contrast from the outside. You walked up towards a mannequin dressed in an all-black suit. You ran your fingers over the material. It was silky and soft to the touch. In other words, very very expensive.

“Ah, you have a good eye.” Naomi stood next to you. She was a head shorter than you and you wondered if her posture was part of the reason. “This suit was customized by a client of mine. She wanted a suit for a party but also for practicality. The jacket and the trousers are woven with Kevlar.”

“Kevlar?” You asked in surprise.

Naomi smirked. The deep crinkles around her eyes more evident. “Of course.”

Now, you began to understand how Zemo knew this woman. She wasn’t just a simple seamstress with a shop, no she dealt in the underground.

She spun around and walked towards Zemo. “Now, what can I do for you today?”

“I need three suits.” Zemo stated simply. “Preferably within the day. I know it is short notice, but I will pay the necessary rush fees.”

She tsked and wagged her finger in Zemo’s face. “Only for you, Helmut. But, know it’ll be double the price.”

“Of course.” He smiled.

“Good,” Naomi looked around before her sights landed on Sam and pointed at him, “you, first.”

Sam who was staring at the wall of expensive fabric, all the different patterns and colors he never imagined, craned his head over to see Naomi’s sharp eyes on him. He pointed to his chest. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Am I pointing to anyone else?”

He chuckled at the older lady’s antics. “No … no, I guess you’re not.”

Naomi gestured for him to follow over and to stand on pedestal so she could take his measurements. Sam obeyed. Naomi pulled out a rolled up tape measure out of her pocket then began the process.

You watched off to the side snickering to yourself when Sam squirmed when Naomi brushed over a ticklish spot causing her to glare at him.

“Stop squirming,” she hissed.

“Right, sorry, sorry,” Sam cleared his throat standing perfectly still now.

A presence appeared behind you. You peered over your shoulder to see Zemo next to you as he stared at Sam.

“So, are you not getting a suit?” You asked remembering he only said three.

Zemo raised an eyebrow. “Is my outfit not good enough?”

Your eyes raked over his clothes. The maroon shirt with an embellishment of a piece of fabric that curved across his body starting from his shoulder to the opposing waist; the black trouser that fitted him well; matching black boots in which the trousers tucked into; and the show stopper itself was the trench coat with the fur lined collar. It was an attention grabber for sure.

“I guess it is.” You paused then muttered jokingly, “Although, the fur is a bit much.”

He chuckled. A beautifully deep rumble. “Of course.”

You huffed through your nose. “So, are we going to have outfits as bold as yours or will we be blending in?”

“A bit of both.”

“Great.” You murmured sarcastically.

You looked back over to see Bucky up on the pedestal getting his measurements while it was Sam’s turn to snicker and laugh as the super soldier desperately tried not to move.

“Don’t worry,” Zemo’s deep voice resonated right next to your ear. You tensed up as your heart leapt into your throat. “You will not have a fur coat.”

You jerked your head over to him to see his eyes sparkling with a certain glee then he walked away towards the rest of the group.

Damn, that man. 

You were an Avenger, have been for years. You joined the team a little bit after Sam which was one of the reason why the two of you were so close. However, being an Avenger didn’t last very long. Sokovia Accords happened, along with trying to find and clear Bucky’s name, and next thing you knew you were on the run.

Thanks to Zemo.

But, you didn’t have a burning hated for the man. You hated that he used Bucky, but not that he split the Avengers by revealing the truth of how Tony’s parents died. In your eyes, it was inevitable. Tony and Steve were strong headed people that were bound to clash, and did so on occasion, so this was all boiling from the beginning. You simply wished that they could have made amends sooner.

Because there was Thanos, the snap, and the five years.

You were part of the half that lived. Both a blessing and a curse.

Which meant, you could also sympathized with Karli and her movement. However, the way she was going about it and with her stealing the serum was something you couldn’t support. All because of this you were now in the company of Helmut Zemo once again wondering how your life ended up this way.

So, was Zemo flirting with you?

And, did you happen to also joke and flirt with him back on occasion?

And, was there also a morbid curiosity of what would happened if you kissed him here and now?

You would have to say yes to all. 

“Hey, it’s your turn.”

You snapped out of your thoughts. Naomi was starting at you expectantly while Sam and Bucky smirked. You bowed your head in shame as you shuffled up to get your measurements done. You were move well behaved compared to Sam and Bucky which upset them. They wanted to see Naomi scold you as she did with them. Naomi quickly finished and stood up, but before you could hop off the pedestal Zemo approached.

“Make their suit maroon,” he announced.

Naomi looked over to him and smiled, “Of course. Anything.”

“Maroon?” You twisted around and stared down at Zemo. “Why?”

“Is it not obvious?” He cocked his head.

“You have to play his date,” Bucky muttered not hiding his disgust.

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“James is correct.” Zemo passed over a fold piece of paper to Naomi.

She opened it and nodded as her eyes skimmed down the paper. “Easy. I’ll get some help and these should possibly be done around tomorrow afternoon. Please help yourself to my apartment upstairs.”

Naomi hobbled away through a door on the right leading to a basement. It slammed shut behind her and the sound locking echoed in the quiet shop.

“What did you give her?” You asked.

“Plans for your suits,” he answered as if was completely obvious.

“Okay, then what about this whole ‘playing parts’ thing? You never really went into detail.”

“Well, Sam here is to play Conrad Mack, a man also known as the Smiling Tiger while James will play his old role of Winter Soldier.”

You crossed your arms. “And I’m the side piece?”

Sam snickered.

“Well, I wouldn’t use such terminology, but yes unfortunately you will play my lover.”

“There isn’t some other role to play like Smiling Leopard or something?”

“It would be best to draw less attention with multiple aliases. If multiple people of high ranks got together then more guns than eyes will be on us. To be less conspicuous, you will play my partner. Simple.”

You huffed. “Well, if the Baron says that is what I have to do then I guess I will be the side piece.”

You jumped off the pedestal and strolled towards the door Naomi gestured would lead to her apartment above. You walked past Zemo and patted his chest. Your eyes connected with his warm chocolate ones. “You better buy me all the champagne I want then.”

He chuckled. “Of course, love.”

You walked away shaking your head while Sam and Bucky groaned in disgust. You laughed at their childish actions as you headed up the stairs.

Hours later, as the sun rose, you were relaxing in a plush chair with your feet kicked up on the coffee table. Sam and Bucky were asleep on the couch and a chair respectively. It was already the next day, but you couldn’t sleep. Thoughts about everything swirled around in your head. And there was also the problem of leaving Zemo unattended. So, you promised Sam that you would watch over the Baron as he and Bucky took naps to prepare for whatever tonight might bring.

Zemo slept in the only guest bedroom in the apartment. He kept the door open for you to keep an eye on him. The only condition Sam made with Zemo before either of them fell asleep. You mindlessly stared at the foot of the bed while you played with one of your pocket knives. Flipping and performing small tricks as you delve deeper into your mind.

Such as, what did you truly feel for Zemo?

You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him. Let alone, ignore the flirty banter the two of you occasionally have. But, he was also the enemy. He did unforgivable things, hence his lifetime sentence. Yet, he was also a family man who lost it all.

You internally groaned. There is something seriously wrong with me.

“So, I see you have been given the task of babysitting me?”

The voice startled you. Instinctually, you leapt up gripping your knife preparing for a fight. Your eyes darted around the room and landed on Zemo standing in the living room. Clearly awake and out of his room.

So much for watching him like a hawk. Sorry, Sam.

You lowered your hands. “Sorry, you scared me.”

His eyes fell to your knife then reconnected with your eyes. Turning away, he strolled towards the kitchen, “Coffee?”

“No, I already had some. I made a pot earlier.”

He nodded and continued to make himself a cup. “You still have not answered my question,” he called out.

You pocketed your knife and walked towards the kitchen then leaned against the archway facing Zemo. “Yeah, I’m watching over you for the time being.”

“It could be worse.” He noted. He slowly spun around with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. “James could be watching over me.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I bet the two of you would have lovely conversations.”

He laughed once and took a sip.

You crossed your arms as you stared at Zemo. Your eyes trailed up and down and simply watching all of his tiny movements. The way his fingers curled around the mug and tapped it; the way he rocked side to side; the way his chest rose and fell. But, as you stared longer your mind began to wonder again. How your paths crossed, how you both had missions you believed in, how his hair would feel under your fingers –

Wait. What?

“You know you and James have an unfortunate habit of staring,” Zemo commented.

You blinked snapping out of your thoughts. “Huh?”

Zemo shook his head trying to suppress a smile. “You and James tend to stare. However, James stares when he is angry. You stare when you are confused, and when your mind starts to drift off.”

You dropped your arms. “You figured that out in the two days of being with me?”

“It’s not hard. People are much more simpler creatures than most think.”

You twisted around. Your back now pressed against the thin wooden archway. Your eyes wondered over to Sam and Bucky. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that.”

He strolled over to you. His eyes followed your eye line to see the two soldier sleeping. “You care for them deeply,” he noted in a low voice.

“I care about a lot of people.”

“And what of me?”

“You?” You turned your head to see how close Zemo stood.

Zemo surprised him when he asked the question. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. But, he couldn’t deny his attraction, or how you looked at him less like a monster and more like a person. He licked his lips, “Yes, me.”

You tilted your head as you stared into those brown eyes. It sucked you in. Much like everything about him. His captivating presence, his soothing voice, his charisma and politeness.

“Well, Baron, we’ve only known each other for little over a day. I say if we get out of Madripoor alive then I’ll think about it,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Of course.”

Sam stirred awake seconds later. He pushed himself up as he rubbed his tired face. He blinked a few times before his droopy eyes landed on you. You smiled at him, “Morning … or afternoon, whatever you prefer.”

He offered a lopsided smile. “Mornin’.”

“Get enough sleep?”

“God, no.”

You laughed.

Sam looked to you and Zemo. Zemo now stood a couple feet off to your side, much farther than he was moments ago. “Any trouble?” he asked eyeing Zemo.

Zemo raised his empty hand in defense. “I have done nothing.”

“He’s right, Sam” you said. “He’s been asleep just like you guys. He just got up too.”

“Good,” Sam stood up and walked towards the kitchen. “You can go get some rest now if you want I can watch over him.”

You nodded knowing you’ll need the rest for tonight. You shuffled towards the couch when Zemo spoke up. “The guest bedroom is available. Probably more comfortable to rest in a bed than a couch.”

You glanced over your shoulder to him then over to the open bedroom door. You shrugged then changed course to the bedroom. Shutting the door behind you, and with the window shades pulled down, it was fairly dark. A nice way to trick your brain into hopefully sleeping soundly.

You kicked off your shoes then crawled into bed. A deep sigh left your lips. You definitely needed this. More than you realized. You rolled over snuggling into one of the pillows. Inhaling, a smell wafted into your nose. A musk. An expensive musk. Zemo’s cologne.

Trying to bite back a smile, you snuggled further into the pillow as you dozed off with thoughts of Zemo.

What felt like minutes later, someone gently shook you awake. “(Y/N),” they whispered.

You groaned and rolled over. Cracking open your eyes, you saw Bucky standing over you.

“Fuck, Bucky, what time is it?” Your voice groggy.

He smiled, “Not sure, night time though. Our suits are done and we getting ready to go.”

You dragged yourself and rubbed your eyes. “I need another three hours.”

“You and me both,” Bucky mumbled. “Anyway your suit is on the edge of bed so get dressed.”

He then awkwardly shuffled out closing the door behind him.

Your eyes slid over to the empty space to see a suit on a hanger along with black dress shoes. You hopped off the bed and got a better look. The jacket and trousers was the same color as Zemo’s shirt. A beautiful rich maroon. The under shirt was a black button up with a thin black tie to match. A black handkerchief was also tucked into the breast pocket of the jacket. However, the only peculiar  thing was something silver that twinkled in the dim lighting. A pin hooked on the tie. A bird, no, a dove. A simplistic dove pin.

Was it a touch from Naomi? Or from Zemo? A part of you hoped for the latter.

A giddy smile twitched on your lips.

Outside the guestroom, Sam adjusted his collar. He felt utterly ridiculous in his suit. The colors were nice, but the ostentatious pattern wasn’t his cup of tea. Bucky also looked displeased with his suit, or if it could be called a suit. It was more of a uniform, an outfit bred for battle. The most notable aspect was the sleeveless left arm to show off his black and gold vibranium arm. It all left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Stop fiddling, Sam. You look fine,” Zemo stated trying to suppress an eye roll.

“Well, I feel ridiculous,” Sam huffed.

“I think you look great.”

The three men glanced over to you. You strolled out of the bedroom with your maroon suit that hugged your figure perfectly. However, instead of buttoning your top buttons you left them undone as your black tie hung loosely around your neck. The dove pin twinkled under the fluorescent lights.  

“Damn, you looked amazing, (Y/N).” Sam commented while Bucky nodded in agreement.

You laughed. “Thanks, Sam.” You shoved your hands into your front pant pockets. “So? Are we all good to go?”

Zemo couldn’t look away. You looked better than he imagined. He was having thoughts he hasn’t have in a while. Not since you showed up in his life. His eyes fell to the pin on your tie. A dove. It was a lovely touch by Naomi. One he wished he thought of. He cleared his throat, “Yes, we are good. Let’s go.”

You nodded and made the first move to leave. As you walked by Zemo, you leaned in and whispered, “Just know that if you do get too handsy I still have my knives.”

Zemo stared stunned.

On the way to Madripoor, Zemo repeated how you all have to stay in character no matter what happens. You would get the information you needed then leave. An easy in and out mission.

Hopefully.

In the car ride, Bucky sat in the passenger seat while Sam, you, then Zemo crammed into the backseat. Motorcycles flanked the car as the car made different twists and turns to get to lowtown. The driver said nothing the whole time but continued to give you an odd look. Without saying anything, you wrapped your arms around Zemo’s arm and rested your chin on his shoulder. Zemo tensed for a moment of surprise before slowly relaxing.

You whispered into his ear. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He peered at you in his peripheral. “I do,” he mumbled under his breath.

You laughed lightly then spoke louder enough for all to hear. “Helmut, what are we going to do after all of this?”

Following your lead, he said, “Whatever you wish.”

The driver’s eyes stopped burning through you. Your little act worked. For now. Instead of pulling away, you adjusted your head and laid your head more comfortable on his shoulder. Your heart raced. Both from close proximity with Zemo and with what may lay ahead.

You unconsciously squeezed Zemo tighter.

Zemo could feel your raging heartrate, could hear the way you tried to breath slow even breaths. You may have done multiple missions, but it doesn’t mean you never got over the jittery nerves. Zemo craned his head and whispered lowly in your ear, “You have nothing to fear, everything will work out fine.”

“Don’t jinx it.” You murmured.

He huffed through his nose. “I did not think you were into that sort of thing.”

“Not entirely, but it’s best not to tempt the universe.”

He chuckled. It rumbled in your ear and throughout your body.

When you reached your destination, in an underground tunnel, Zemo stepped out of the car. He turned around and held out his hand towards you. You smirked and accepted his gesture.

“A true gentlemen,” you teased.

“Only for you,” he quickly replied as he kissed your knuckles.

The door shut behind you and now all four of you stood in lowtown of Madripoor. The driver put the car in reverse then muttered, “Have fun.” Then drove away.

“Please, follow me. I know where we can contact Selby. A bar not too far from here,” Zemo stated and took the lead.

However, he never let go of your hand. He easily intertwined his fingers with yours as he walked towards the destination. You quickly matched his pace and stood side by side with him. Glancing over your shoulder, Sam and Bucky took up the rear end.

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. A way of saying ‘are you good?’

You nodded then jerked your head to Bucky. ‘Is he okay?’

Bucky’s eyes bounced around counting the number of people, noting all the guns and weapons, and spotting any suspicious people. Or at least more suspicious in a place like this.

Sam looked over to Bucky then back to you. He shrugged. ‘I guess’.

You looked back in front of you. Out of the tunnel, it opened up to a busy packed street. Bars, shops, restaurants tightly packed into a small area. Neon lights flickered everywhere grabbing your attention. People dressed in bright colors with odd accessories or simply in all black. Guns hoisted on shoulders as people eyed each other with hesitation.

Zemo was right. You would blend in and stand out.

You squeezed Zemo’s hand at the sight of all the guns. One wrong move and chaos would erupt.

Zemo’s thumb gently rubbed the back of your hand. He whispered, “You must relax.”

“Easier said than done.”

“No harm will come to you, I promise.”

You scoffed as you looked to your right seeing a shop filled with semiautomatic guns. “An odd thing to promise in a place like this.”

“We just have to play our roles and get our information. Once we do that, we are out of here.”

You laughed once. You turned your head looking at Zemo. An evil thought planted into your mind. A wolfish grin spread over your lips. “Are you saying you want me to make out with you right here?”

Zemo chocked back a noise.

You laughed wholeheartedly throwing back your head. “My, my, Helmut.”

Zemo loved hearing his name roll off your tongue.

You smiled at him with a cheeky grin. “Was this your plan all along? To have a reason to have your way with me?”

Zemo’s cheeks flushed as words evaded him.

You laughed again shaking your head. You patted his chest. “You’re so sneaky.”

“I –“ he cleared his throat “- that was not my intention. It was the most reasonable role to lessen suspicion.”

“Uh-huh.”

Zemo couldn’t believe how easily you flustered him. Especially, since he knew you could be flustered by him. He enjoyed entering your bubble and hearing how your breath hitch. Small signs that he noted. But, the moment you flipped the script, Zemo felt like a teenager again dealing with his first crush.

Luckily for him, the bar in question finally appeared in sight. Zemo unconsciously pulled you closer as all four of you pushed through the crowd. You looked over your shoulder to see Sam and Bucky trying to make their way through.

Zemo stated loudly in Russian, “Ready to comply, Winter Solider?”

Murmurs of the Winter Solider spread like fire.

You instantly had a bad feeling about all of this.

Together, you reached the bar. The bartender nodded to Sam and Zemo. His eyes glanced over you. You choose to ignore him as you clung to Zemo. Zemo expressed how he had business with Selby to answer any questions the bartender may have. But, the bartender nodding thinking nothing of it, he simply turned and asked Smiling Tiger if he would want the usual. Sam nodded. He clearly looked just as uncomfortable as you felt. Bucky scanned the area waiting for something to go wrong, waiting for impending orders.

The bartender returned with a … questionable drink for Sam. You scrunched your nose as he put raw snake parts into a shot glass. Zemo, on the other hand, almost mockingly said, “Ah, your favorite, Smiling Tiger.”

You snorted trying to maintain your composure.

The bartender also placed two shots for you and Zemo. You gladly picked up the glass. You cheered with Sam then Zemo and downed it.

You really needed that for your nerves. And especially for what happened next.

A man eyed Zemo. You spotted him from across the bar. Someone whispered to the man before he approached Zemo. His eyes steely filled with determination. But, before he could step any closer, you whipped out a knife and pressed the tip under the man’s chin. The man froze with his hands raised.

Swallowing, he stated, “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

You cocked your head glancing to Zemo.

Zemo calmly replied, “I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me or,” Zemo gestured to Bucky then to you. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

You lowered your knife and the man backed away. You pocketed the knife hiding it back in one of your many spots. “Power Broker?” You asked.

“Every kingdom needs its king. He is judge, jury, and executioner.” Zemo answered.

“And you know him?” Sam asked.

“Only by reputation.”

“How nice,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Soon, you began to notice how people eyed your little group. Hungry eyes landed on all of you, but especially on Zemo. You whispered into the shell of Zemo’s ear, “I think we’ve got trouble.”

A man started to approach.

“Not to worry,” Zemo said. He glanced over to Bucky. Bucky met his gaze then Zemo gave him the order: attack.

In seconds, Bucky was fighting people left and right. It was astounding. You almost leapt in to help when Zemo grabbed your arm and guided you back to him. Your back pressed against his chest as he whispered, “Do not move. We need to stay in our roles. And he is more than capable of handling himself.”

He was right.

Thankfully, the fight ended fairly quickly with a confirmation that you could all met with Selby.

Lead down back hallways, through twists and turns and past armory of guns and container probably filled with drugs, you entered in a small den. A restaurant of sorts. Artifacts lined the walls in glass compartments as guards lingered around with guns resting in their hands. All of you were lead to a woman reclining on a couch.

She didn’t seem all too pleased with your sudden appearance.

Sam decided to stand next to Selby while Bucky stood opposed to him. Zemo plopped down in the only chair across from Selby while you perched yourself on the armrest next to Zemo.

“Well, who is this?”

After tearing your eyes away from the guards, your eyes fell on the woman.

Selby continued, “I know everyone here, but not you, love. So I’ll repeat myself one more time: who are you?” There was a sharpness in her voice. If she didn’t like the answer, she would happily kill you here and now.

Zemo cleared his throat then gestured to you, “This is –“

“I can be whoever you want me to be.” You cut Zemo off. You knew how people like her worked, knew how to get in their good graces.

“Spunky. I like that.” Selby smirked and leaned forward. “But I did ask for a name, love, did I not?”

You licked your lips. Your eyes darted over to Zemo then back to Selby. An alias wasn’t on your top priority. You were to play Zemo’s lover and that was that. No one would bat an eye. Or at least that was the plan.

Nervous, you smoothed the front of your shirt, running your fingers over your tie. An idea quickly formed in your mind. You smiled, “Well, I go by Dove now.”

“Now?”

You peered down at Zemo. He slowly glanced up with a faint confusion written into his features. What –

You reached over and drew his chin up as your thumb swiped across his bottom lip. Your smile held a type of mischief as you tiled your head. “I’m his dove.”

Zemo’s heart pounded in his chest.

You leaned in as your nose brushed against his. Zemo froze. Chuckling, you pulled away staring back at Selby, “He doesn’t like public affection too much.”

Selby smirked, “I see.” Her eyes landed on the bashful Baron. “Well, tell me what you want Baron.”

Taking a deep breath, Zemo tried to recenter himself. “Tell us what you know about the super solder serum –“ Zemo pointed to Bucky “- and I give you him along with the code words to control him, of course.”

“It was a smart move to come to me,” she stated. “But, how about you add them into the mix and you got yourself a deal?”

“Excuse me?” Zemo blinked.

Selby pointed at you. “Yes, your precious dove and the Winter Solider.”

“Why –“

“Simple. The Winter Solider is a fine tool, but people are the backbone of this operation.” She fell back into her couch and crossed her legs. “And your dove has an edge that I like. A person to not double cross. Someone I want on my team.”

Instantly, Zemo shook his head, “No, I –“

“I am not a pawn to bartered,” you said confidently. “Besides, I don’t think you would like my company.”

“Oh?” Selby cocked an eyebrow.

Just play the part.

You leaned forward on the armrest. Your eyes never left Selby’s. With a flick of your wrist, a hidden pocket knife popped out of your sleeve into your hand. You pointed the knife at Selby.

Movements scuffled behind you as voices growled. One of Selby’s bodyguards pressed the barrel of his gun to your head. You didn’t look away from Selby. Sam tensed up readying himself for a fight. Bucky desperately tried to maintain his cool while Zemo slowly moved for his gun under his coat tucked in his waistband.

You reached over and placed a hand on Zemo’s shoulder, a way of telling him you had this. “You won’t kill me,” you stated coolly.

The man grunted pushing the gun harshly against your head. One trigger happy finger and your life would be over.

“You kill me, you lose the Winter Soldier and you’ll make an enemy of Zemo and Smiling Tiger. Two new enemies with no gains.”

Selby motioned to the guard. He dropped his gun and stepped away. Everyone momentarily relaxed.

“Greed does not suit most people. You’ll get the Winter Soldier for the information we need and that is that. And to be honest, your side of the deal is already much sweeter.”

“Are you trying to lecture me?” Selby asked. That sharp tone back in her voice.

You flipped the knife and hid it back into its place. You slid off the arm of the chair and into Zemo’s lap. You threw an arm over his shoulder and stared directly at Zemo. He offered a small nod asking ‘are you okay?’

You smiled easily despite your fast heartrate. You glanced over to Selby as your fingers dug into the ends of Zemo’s hair. He tried to suppress a groan. You said, “No, just offering some advice. And I prefer his company.”

Selby laughed genuinely. “I see why you picked them, Baron. Very spunky indeed. I do like them.”

“Glad to hear,” Zemo said through clenched teeth.

Selby happily gave you the information you needed, but nothing ever worked out perfectly for you. Maybe, Zemo did jinx it.

Sam’s phone rang. It was Sarah.

One miscalculation. One oversight. Selby barked her orders, “Kill them.”

In a strange turn of events, someone killed Selby. Not you, not Zemo, not Sam, or not even Bucky. An outside force. Bucky and Sam knocked out the guards and grabbed their guns. Each of them ready for a fight. A battle. But, Zemo had a different plan. To calmly walk out. You unfortunately didn’t have any other options so you went with the latter.

So, the four of you walked out into the streets. Chimes began to echo all around you.

“Guys?” You said nervously.

“This is not good,” Zemo muttered.

People looked at their phones then to the people around them. You all continued to briskly walk away hoping you would get out safely.

But no.

Gunshot rang out.

Sam and Bucky sprinted down the street. You ducked at the gunshots then tried to stand up, tried to run for cover, run to Sam and Bucky, when a hand clamped on your wrist dragging you off to the right away from Sam and Bucky. You were pressed against a brick wall as someone covered you. They used their body to protect you as chaos erupted.

“Are you alright?”

Zemo.

You nodded. No harm will come to you, I promise.

Footsteps echoed to your left. Your head snapped over to see two people. Their guns aimed at the two of you. Without thinking, you reached around grabbing the gun tucked in Zemo’s waistband. You flipped him over pinning him against the wall as you fired two rounds dropping them both.

You looked to Zemo. “You good?”

He chuckled at the role reversal.

You smiled then glanced around making sure no one else was sneaking up on you. Zemo couldn’t help but stare. The neon lights haloed around you. His heart skipped a beat. His eyes wondered up and down before spotting the dove pin sparkling in the colorful lights.

You looked to the left down the empty alleyway. “I guess we should go this way to avoid the crowds. You know the way, and we have to catch up with Sam and Bucky.”

Without thinking, he gently cupped your face drawing your attention.

You blinked, “What?”

Not wanting to have any regrets, something he had to learn through unfortunate circumstances, he slowly began to lean forward. His lips carefully brushed against yours. He smiled slightly at the way your breath hitched. His eyes locked with yours. He could happily drown in them. However, he wouldn’t go any farther. He needed to know if you also wanted this. He left it in your hands.

Your heart pounded feverously against your chest. Your eyes darted down to his lips, his lips that were a fraction away, then quickly jumped back up to his eyes. Blame it on the adrenaline, blame it on the single shot of alcohol, or blame it on this tension you and him always had, but you didn’t pull away. You were curious and desperate to know how it would all play out.

With the tiniest nod from you, Zemo pressed his lips against yours. A soft loving kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed. His other hand snaked around your lower back drawing you closer. The sweet kiss shifted. His mouth parted your own as he tilted his head deepening the kiss. His tongue snuck in exploring every inch of your mouth. Your knees almost buckled.

Slowly, he pulled away seeing how utterly breathless you were with your eyes wide and with your lips parted in shock. You weren’t expecting that. Your heart raced, flipped, skipped, pounded, all of the above. And worst of all, you were hungry for more.

He smiled as his thumb gently stroked your cheek. “Come. Let’s go find your friends.”

What? “Zemo –“

“We will discuss this later.”

He peeled himself off the wall and away from you. Part of you almost stopped him, hissed at you to keep him caged against the wall. Zemo strolled down to the end of the alleyway to a fork and looked left and right. You, on the other hand, continued to stand stunned at what had just transpired.

Zemo peered over his shoulder back at you. He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud at your reaction, but you did need to move. He wasted too much time as it is. “Dove,” he gently called to you. “We have to move.”

Your face grew warm as you jogged up to him. “You’re right. We are definitely talking about this later.”

He saw your heavy breathing, your flustered appearance, and the way you gripped his gun tighter. All his doing. And he knew mimicked your appearance. He thanked whoever was willing to listen that it was dark and hardly any lights down this way or you would notice his flushed cheeks. Taking a shaky breath, his eyes glanced back down to your lips then murmured to himself, “And possibly something else afterwards.”

[morallygreymmc]

note: got the idea here (I pulled up a random number generator and chose three) and I wrote down four characters on slips of paper + picked a random one.

➬ 56. "why are you still with me?" ✧ 73. "don't say anything else, just stay." ✧ 81. "why can't you see that?"

(pairing: helmut zemo x reader | fandom: marvel | genre: somewhat angst, sprinkle of fluff | warnings: none)

“why are you still with me?” helmut questioned, deciding at the time to interrupt the shared silence. you glanced up from your book, dipping a finger to mark your spot, and chuckled, “what kind of question is that, helmut?”

he fidgeted with the gold necklace he always wore around his neck: a keepsake from his past that he no longer spoke of. when his eyes met yours, you were taken aback by the solemnity in his gaze; the question was one that seemed to hold weight on his mind, and your answer would either keep him afloat or drag him under.

“hel, where's this coming from?” you swivel your body to face him, hands reaching up to grasp his face, the pads of your thumbs smoothing over the slight stubble sprinkled over his jaw.

“you know the man I used to be,” he started, hesitancy in his tone, “the things I've done that I thought were right... justified,” he rambled, distress marking his features.

“while I may be a free man, there are still people from my past out there in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike me where it pains me the most... you.” his thin lips quiver at the thought, “and I don't think I could ever forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

“so, you think – for that very reason – I should leave you?” you ask, disbelief written all over your face.

“love, I don't want this life for you. to be constantly relocating, putting your life at risk, wondering when you'll finally have some semblance of normalcy.” he pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “look, all I'm saying is–”

you cut him off with a finger to his lips, “the man you were 10 years ago is not the same man you are now. why can't you see that? I chose to be with you, I knew what came along with the decision.”

the bedsheets rustled underneath you as his arms sought your waist; head carefully tucked in your collarbone, warm breaths fanning over your neck. you mindlessly skim your hand through his chestnut locks, massaging his scalp with the tips of your fingers, reveling in his pleased hum.

“don't say anything else, just stay,” he whispered; vulnerability evident in the way his arms tightened their hold on your body – afraid that you would slip away, like you always did in his nightmares.

“I'm not going anywhere, hel. I don't care what happens, I can handle this. all I want is for you to trust me, okay?”

you feel him nod against you – words abandoning him in favor of a physical agreement.

for the rest of the night, murmurs of reassurances and promises filled the short space between the two of you.

helmut – for once in his life – slept with no worries; the light press of your chest to his back a visible metaphor of your loyalty.

[lee-cu]

Could I put forth a request, please? I was wondering if you had any ideas for Zemo’s ideal wedding with the reader? Does he want it big and extravagant or is he more into eloping to a cute little chapel in the quiet countryside for a private ceremony? Thank you! 💜

I am so sorry love, I am just seeing this now 💕💕

~~

Zemo's Ideal Wedding

Zemo wouldn't want it too big guest list wise. He also wouldn't want it to be too small, probably your families and a few friends.

But he would definitely want it to be extravagant.

He would have top of the line everything. The most expensive suit on the market. Any wedding dress/suit you want, no price is too high.

Bribing to get your dream venue months in advance so you don't have to wait a year+ to get a time slot.

He would create an extravagant menu that's all of your favorite foods and drinks, and his. He would also arrange a romantic date where just the two of you sit down and sample every single thing on the menu to make sure it's perfect.

And he would definitely do something romantic like have your brothers/father ad his best man alongside his own father. (If his father is alive at this time of course)

He would also buy a custom wedding cake of course. You would have complete control over what the wedding cake looks like except for the bride/groom/spouse and groom cake topper. He would want to keep that tradition so he could keep the topper as a memento of the evening.

He wouldn't care what color dress/suit you wore. If you want to have a tiedye dress/suit on your wedding, with rainbow decorations he wouldn't care, he just wants you to be happiest and most comfortable.

It would be perfect, right out of your dreams. A night to remember, that you, him nor any of his family would forget. And then he'd sweep you away to an amazing honeymoon in the one place you've always wanted to visit the most and spoil you relentlessly for at least a month straight.

However this dream wedding he has in his mind would obviously not be feasible if you marry post TFATWS, when the two of you are on the run.

If this were the case, he would run away with you to some small, beautiful, picturesque town in some place you've always wanted to visit.

The two of you would get married in the town chapel/temple/scenic spot, in the clothes you got on, with just the Justice of the Peace to witness your vows.

He would spin beautiful vows that could be published in a poetry book, just things off the top of his head that come to mind when he sees you standing in front of him, ready to dedicate yourself to him forever.

It would be peaceful, and quiet.

Post wedding he would whisk you off to the town inn and spend every night and day making you feel like the only person in the world until you were forced to more again.

After you leave that town, insisting you still need a honey moon on the run or not, he would take you all over the world to see all the most beautiful and scenic spots in each country.