Thank you all. I was afraid that my entire blog might be flagged as explicit and was therefore basically invisible. I'll be attempting to post some actual explicit content now.
<< after tasting yourself on Helmut Zemo's tongue, your heart, which had been beating furiously during his dive between your thighs, finally settled into a steady rhythm. there was something salty, something tangy, and even something smokey in his kiss. it was you on his lips and, while your toes were finally uncurling, you couldn't calm the butterflies he stirred in your stomach when he whispered your name against your wet lips.
'I've always meant to do that,' he kissed your chin, then your bottom lip, then, he covered your mouth, forcing you to take his tongue in once again.
'I...I didn't even know you could do that,' you wrapped your arms around his wide back, trying to pull him closer, to crash your chests against each other. heart to heart. looking up at him, at the moon reflected in his eyes, you asked. 'did you know you could do that?'
he suppressed a laugh, causing him to snort. then, he kissed your forehead like your father would've done. it made you feel like a child, even with an entire man pressed between your grown woman's legs. 'it wasn't in any of father's books, but the military has a habit of turning boys into men.'
'you've done this before,' you thought, and, from his reaction, you realized that you've also said it aloud. he snorted again, this time kissing your nose. it made you feel like a little girl being scolded. 'is she in the military too?'
'who?'
'the girl you...the girl who...you know,' you cleared your voice maybe a little too loud because he hushed you with too much humor. 'Helmut, I'm serious,' you bit your lip to keep from screaming and sunk your nail into his back. '
'she was a woman, not a girl,' he said, suddenly serious. even his breath felt cold against your ear as you spoke. 'I wasn't the first or the last to pleasure her or be pleasured by her,' he breathed as he burrowed his clothed crotch deeper between your bare thighs. 'and I didn't care to be,' his teeth took a hold of your lobe as his tongue licked the tender flesh between them. 'but she thought me things,' he kissed the bite marks. 'things I'd love to teach you one day.'
'tuh-teach me,' you trembled, your thighs tightening around him and your nails sinking into his shoulder. 'teach me tonight,' you heaved as he traced his teeth down your throat.
'teach you? teach you what?'
he chuckled and bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and you gasped.
'teach me how to pleasure you like a woman.'
after pulling on your skin like a wolf on a doe, you heart him growl. 'you want to please a man?'
'yes,' you rose your hips to meet his.
'any man?'
'yes. no. no, not any man. you.'
'only me,' he licked your wound, your skin still raw.
'only you, Helmut.'
this answer must've been the one he'd been waiting for, the magic words which turned your world around as he wrapped his arms around you and rolled over. before you could catch your breath, you were looking down into pale blue moonlit eyes, your body atop of his. tucking your hair behind your ears, he began instructing you, teaching you how to be a woman. not just any woman, of course. his woman.
'open your mouth,' he ordered, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip. 'tongue out.' as you rolled it out, his finger slid up on the slippery surface and your lips sealed around it seemingly by their own accord. when you started suckling it, you weren't sure where this hunger came from, but it was primordial. you wanted him inside of you, so when he pulled away, you made a pathetic noise.
'you want more?' he asked, but his smirk told you he already knew. so he offered you two fingers which you feasted on. 'that's it,' he sighed as saliva enveloped him. he pushed deeper instead of pulling back this time. you gagged, which caused more saliva to spill over him. when he pulled back and hit the back of your throat again, you were spilling tears as well, but you were also moaning around him. 'that's my girl,' he praised you, pressing his other hand at the back of your neck, setting up a pace.
while you drooled over his digits, dizzy from his words of encouragement and the taste of tobacco and gunpowder, you didn't even notice the mess you made of his sleeping shirt. there was saliva all over it, dripping from your chin. you wanted to apologize, but Helmut was forcing another finger into your mouth.
he watched you widen your mouth to receive him, all of him. 'mein madchen,' he stretched his neck to kiss your forehead. he watched you take him up to the knuckles and couldn't help a chuckle. you were his girl, after all. 'you always were a fast learner,' Helmut heaved, your hot mouth seemingly too much to handle. "soon, it'll be my cock that you'll be gagging on. we have to start small. I wouldn't want you to choke."
all this talk of Daniel Brühl's amazing smelling cologne driving men and women wild got me thinking about some a/b/o tropes that I haven't interacted with in literal years. alpha Baron Zemo subjugating omegas and even other alphas with his overpowering scent.
he managed to reprogram Bucky, who is an omega that was trained to take out other alphas who underestimate his kind, and make him his attack dog and partner.
there's also a female omega that is hard to miss as she's draped over the baron's arm, one of a handful of people that almost had him, got him off his guard by using her own mouthwatering scent. they are allies now. and partners.
there are nights he looks over both his soldier's and his seductress' sleeping form and wonders why he hasn't sunken his teeth into both of their throats yet. but he might lose his mind to a rut yet.
I've been thinking about sugar daddy Zemo taking me shopping for new summer clothes. he heard you complain about your old clothes not fitting you anymore, so he pulled a Regina George and went "hop in, schatz. we're going shopping."
you put on what used to be your best sundress. Zemo, however, must've thought it still suited you because he could barely keep his eyes on the road. it was a hot day, so he had nothing but a button-up with the sleeves rolled up and the collar loosened. it was hotter than the leather car seat under there.
you could see a vein swell on his throat when the store staff wouldn't let him join you in the changing room, so you snapped him a few photos in the mirror and sent them. he deserved something for his patience after all.
when you left the mall, the sun was already setting. he had planned to take you to dinner, but that was before he saw that you'd been wearing nothing underneath that dress. so he pulled up into an empty parking lot and bent you over the still-warm hood of his car. 'thought you could get away with teasing me all day, didn't you, mein schatz?'
while I'm servicing him and slobbering all over his cock, I get the feeling MCU Zemo would praise me for being so eager to please him while Comics Zemo would berate me for being so thirsty. and I'm equally horny for both outcomes.
In episode 3, you briefly see this golden gun in the boot of a car Zemo opens so I just ran it through an image editor to adjust the lighting levels and folks. There are a lot of guns and knifes in there.
These are the books Zemo is seen reading or having in his possession in episodes 3 and 6 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier:
EDIT: I have updated this post to list the exact book by Púshkin
Fortuna ist ein Reissender Fluss (Eng. Fortune is a River) by Roger D. Masters
Das Nein in der Liebe (Eng. How to say no to the one you love) by Peter Schellenbaum
Ansichten der Natur (Eng. Views of Nature) by Alexander von Humboldt
Yevgeniy Onegin (Eng. Eugene Onegin) by Aleksándr Púshkin
In episode 3 and 6, we can see Zemo reading the historical non-fiction book "Fortune is a River" (in German) in his cells in Germany as well as on the Raft. Although Zemo says he's reading Machiavelli, it is actually a microhistory of Machiavelli and Leonardo Da Vinci's work together between 1503 and 1506 in Florence. The book portrays Da Vinci as a visionary architect and inventor who wants to see a society built on science and rationality while Machiavelli is portrayed as a realist who sees people as selfish and the inevitability of conflict in the world.
Onboard the jet to Madripoor, Zemo opens the book Das Nein in der Liebe to reveal Bucky's red notebook. This is a book by Swiss psychotherapist Peter Schellenbaum and covers how communication and identity shifts in a romantic relationship over time.
In Zemo's cell on the Raft in episode 6, you can see the spines of two books on the shelf: Eugene Onegin by Russian author and poet Aleksándr Púshkin in Russian and Ansichten der Natur in German by Alexander von Humboldt. Ansichten der Natur is a collection of travel observations and philosophical musings from von Humboldt's journeys through Central and South America.
Eugene Onegin is a novel in verse first published between 1825 and 1832. The plot follows the narrator Eugene Onegin, a wealthy and very bored dandy who inherits his uncles fortune and moves to the country. Onegin is the template of the Russian literary concept of the Superfluous Man, a character type derived from the Byronic Hero. A Superflous man is characterised by his cynicism, lack of concern for others feelings and will often be self-serving and manipulative. At the core, a Superfluous man is aimlessly walking through life without a purpose. Disconnected from society and obligations, they seek thrills in duels, drinking and gambling.
Both Púshkin and von Humboldt were intellectuals and proficient in many disciplines and genres. Von Humboldt was an explorer, geographer and naturalist involved with the Weimar Classicist literature and cultural movement. Púshkin mastered many genres of prose and radically challenged the literary standards of the time in Russia. He was also critical against the Tsar and a proponent for social reform. He is seen as the father of modern Russian literature.
<< back in the bed which the baron had your own mother prepare,
you tossed and turned. unlike your old, creeky bed from on the ground floor, this one had plenty of room for you to do both. in the low light of the moon that was shining on you from the large window, you read Helmut's handwriting over and over again. 'if you hear the door, it's only me'. you knew this must've been the note he promised you the previous night after you'd been forced apart by the arrival of his father. again.
as you felt your new nightgown shift against your bare, perfumed skin, you remembered his lips and how they surprised you in the shadows. you couldn't wait to meet him again, and neither could he. Helmut, at the risk of being seen, had waited for you outside your room to deliver the message his note already contained. it felt like years since you've last had a good night's sleep. you've been waiting for him for so long, you could afford to lose stay up just a little bit more.
sleep overtook you. with the events of the past week and the soft blankets finally weighing you down, you fell asleep. you were sure that this was what floating on a cloud felt like, but, as if it had taken you too close to the sun, you woke up covered in sweat. when you did, you saw that it wasn't the blankets that were covering you, but Helmut's heavy, hot body.
his cheek felt scratchy against your uncovered chest, the sensation making you tingle from the back of your head to the tips of your toes. with his hands forcing them together, he rubbed his unshaven face between them, his breath wet and warm. it made your nipples and fine hairs stand on end and your mouth fall open. 'Helmut,' you moaned, pushing your chest against his watering mouth. 'you looked so peaceful,' he whispered, winding his arms around your body as you arched your spine. 'Helmut,' you mouthed, trying your best to be quiet as everything in your body screamed out for him.
he rested his chin on your chest and you saw his eyes were blown wide in the moonlight. 'I didn't dare wake you. you ran your fingers through his wild hair, not unlike Heike had done, and tamed his hair for yourself. he closed his eyes against the feeling of your nails against his scalp and he groaned something deep in his chest, falling face-first back between your breasts. 'i missed this,' he sighed into your skin while you were reminded of his long locks and how he's asking you to comb through them as he napped in the grass. 'i missed you,' he breathed, laying his lips in the valley of your breasts. 'how many times, in how many languages did I write down that line?' his kisses were feather-light at first, but became hungry and wet as they climbed up to the tip. 'Mein Gott, I missed you. your head in my lap as I read to you of things men and women do.'
you bit your lip while he surrounded your nipple. back when you read each other stories, you tried to picture the embrace described on the page. you never imagined it could feel like this, so painfully good, so unbearably pleasurable. his tongue was torturing you and your pulling of his hair only made him crueler. 'I missed us sparring with sticks. I'd let you win just so you'd climb atop of me victorious,' he blew air against your nipple, hardening it all over again. 'I missed holding you. touching you. smelling you.' Helmut heaved with each word and each kiss was more forceful than the last. 'tasting you ' in the end, he bit down on your fleshy mound and muffled your moan with his large hand. 'i missed your voice, too, but we must be quiet,' he hushed you, licking the wound.
'shut me up then,' you hissed when he lifted his hand. he smirked and he was all fangs. and when he did kiss you, he devoured you. and you let him. when he nibbled at the sensitive skin at your neck, you let him. when he cursed you for growing up without him, you soothed him, rubbing his shoulders through his shirt. when he removed your nightgown, you showed yourself off to him. you couldn't look him in the eye, but you felt him moving across your moonlit curves and dips. 'i almost didn't recognize you when I walked through the gates,' he ran his hands up your thighs and you trembled. his touch was not the fumblings of a boy, but the moves of a man. 'm-me neither,' you looked at his fingers fondling the flesh of your inner thighs because you still couldn't look him in the eye. you were not a curious girl anymore, you were a wanting woman now.
Helmut hitched your legs up on his wide shoulders as he sinks to his elbows between them. your eyes finally meet and your heart leaps in time with you. 'what are you doing?' you whisper, all the wind knocked out of you. 'do you trust me?' he holds you down, his strong arms wrestling with your shaking legs. 'i...i do.' you hear yourself say, still short of breath. 'then trust me that I know what I'm doing.' and what he was doing was making you burn all over with his scorching eyes. he held your own in a tight grip like a vice, and distracted you from his head descent between your thighs. when he laid his first kiss against your labia, you almost cried.
falling back against the sheets, you stuffed the corner of the covers in your mouth to keep from making any noise. however, there was the sound of Helmut chucking as his mischievous tongue toyed with your poor cunt. it licked corners and crevises inside that you didn't even know existed. he was craving you, even as he suckled everything that slipped out of you, he still craved you. 'Mein Gott,' he sighed, cheeks wet and scratching against your soft thighs. 'Mein Gott, let me drown in this pretty little pussy.' as his lips latched onto the little button you'd flick when you were feeling feverish, your hips jerked. his hands were there to catch you. 'my pussy,' he heaved. 'mine.' as he started sucking, you screamed into the sift pillow you suffocates yourself with. 'mein, mein, mein,' he chanted against your cunt and your hips were in a hurry to hump his face. 'let go,' he ordered, one hand holding you down and the other reaching out for yours. 'let yourself go.' when your fingers intertwined, you knew that he wouldn't ever let go.
after Helmut removed the pillow from your face, you saw everything you let go of was dripping from his chin right under his wide grin. your hands were still holding each other when he licked his lips and kissed the ones between your hips one last time before climbing up to meet your mouth and give you a taste of trust. 'mein.'
<< you had to be dragged out of bed by your mother the next morning. she was late to attend to her duties as a chambermaid and so were you. while the baron had Johann Schmidt believe he'd been dancing with one of the late baronesses' closest confidants, you still had to wake up at the crack of dawn after the ball. But after your midnight meeting with the baron's son, you greeted the sun with a smile. the taste of his lips and the lingering feeling of his hands around your throat had given you the sweetest hangover.
you were practically floating above the floor you were cleaning. the other servants were hired for the evening and left for the city and would only return during the next ball. that would probably be the wedding party. you stopped scrubbing as soon as you remember that your own mother would be changing Heike von Stucker's sheets today. she'd been sleeping in a royal suite, away from Helmut's bed. however, one day they will have to share it.
'what do you think you're doing?' a voice echoed in the ballroom. it was baron Heinrich Zemo, already awake. yet again, doesn't sleep much anymore. since the baroness died, he's locked himself in his laboratory and you only ever see him when he wanders the halls at night as if chasing his Helga's ghost. but, when you saw him this morning, he only seemed to be chasing you. 'ladies-in-waiting don't get their hands dirty,' he stops towards you and steps all over your hard work. 'come, mädchen. i won't let von Strucker see you like this.'
you followed him to the room he'd once shared with Helga Zemo, all while being instructed about your new role in the castle: following around the ghost of your late baroness, but doing it while nicely dressed. Baron Von Strucker and Helmut were out hunting, the only bonding experience the young man ever had with his father. there was something about death that brings men together. you supposed that is they turned killing into an art form. the baron was a warrior and expected nothing less of his son. he was starting to have expectations of you too, ordering you to play the same part you did during the ball.
you were surprised to find your mother in his room, laying out expensive clothes on the bed for you to wear while her own were looking dirty and disheveled. yet again, your mother wasn't a baroness. having spent some time with the baroness during her last months of drawing breaths, you had picked up on spells women conjure with rouge and batting eyelashes. she'd let you play with her appearance like you would a doll, but you never thought you'd see your reflection in her boudoir and yourself in her literal shoes. 'Helga thought you well. you barely embarrassed us last night.' the baron appeared behind you in the mirror. 'Johann Schmidt has taken a liking to you, but he wouldn't be the first man to fall for a peasant girl's unrefined charms.' he looked you up and down and your mother looked away from the both of you. she only looked back when she was addressed directly. 'put everything away exactly as it was. I want everything off the bed when I get back,' he then led you to your new room with your boudoir. it was the former lady-in-waiting's dormitory. you were to make yourself comfortable until you were called for dinner.
what you feared most, you couldn't avoid. the baron had offered you a title and all you had to do in exchange for it was smile and not. and have dinner with Heike von Strucker. her father and Helmut had yet to return, and Herr Schmidt couldn't make it. still, the future baroness Zemo had asked about you, so there you were. 'we barely had time to talk, just us girls' she smiled as she grabbed you by both hands. linking your arms together, you led each to the dining room. 'all men do is talk war.' 'they wrote books about it, too,' you stretched your lips, but it was barely a smile. 'i've attempted to read a few of them on Hel-umm, the young lord's recommendation.' she giggled at that and, as you finally sat down, she leaned over and whispered: 'he's intimidatingly intelligent. must be all those books then, huh? if it weren't for the rather low cut of my ball dress, i fear I wouldn't have been able to hold his attention.' you swallowed, bitter at the attention she received for Helmut. your Helmut.
when the baron arrived, she straightened and turned into the lady you were only pretending to be. he announced to the two of you about his son's and her father's return and you knew that the hour that would follow would be a hell hotter than the ball. neither of the men changed from their hunting gear, so Heike, who got up to greet them, ran her hands through Helmut's slightly sweaty hair to slick it back. it burned, but it could've been worse. they barely touched and she would be sitting across the table from him, too. and if he was surprised to spot you there, he didn't act like it, choosing instead to greet you much as he did her and take his seat. since the men had returned, the discussion devolved back to war. Heike looked at you a few times with an amused smile, expecting you to smile back, so you did. and you tried not to look at Helmut, but he seemed to struggling as well.
after dinner, you shared a sofa and your latest favorite book with Heike. the men shared a drink and filled the air with cigar smoke. she expressed exasperation at that, but you were craving some smoke yourself. Helmut used to share them with you and you only seemed to want to smoke around him. when he playfully offered her one, you reached for it out of habit. she shook her head and asked you to join the men, so you did. Helmut wordlessly offered you a chair at their cards table and lit the cigar for you. this amused both the von Struckers, so the baron had no choice but to join them in teasing the both of you. 'she spent too much time around men since the lady left us. having little Heike around could do her some good.'
Heike agreed and begrudgingly invited you to sit with her again. 'you know how to get men's attention,' she whispered. 'and his attention.' you both look at Helmut who was looking back, taking in smoke along with the two of you. 'you have to teach me one day.' you urged her to watch you inhale smoke and blow kisses his way. it made him chickle and choke on his smoke. 'you make for a pretty train, but I'd rather you read me his favorite books so that he stops sounding so smart to me.'
you didn't get to finish the book before she started yawning. you started yawning because you had barely slept. it was also getting late, so you went in circles wishing each other sweet dreams before you retired to your new bed. On your way there, you had a terrible fright. someone had attacked you from behind, covering your face and dragging you into a dark corner. you recognized the voice and immediately went slack and leaned back against his strong chest. 'i'm not supposed to be here,' Helmut's hot breath hit your ear. 'keep your door unlocked tonight,' he kissed you behind your ear and it was a good thing that your mouth was covered because you moaned. he pressed a kiss to your ear: 'i missed you, too.'
summary: as a girl, you ran through the halls with the baron's sole son. as a woman, you sneak through the walls to meet up with the future lord of the castle without the future lady's knowledge.
<< even if Helmut Zemo hungered for your lips as if he hadn't tasted them before, it wasn't the first time his tongue had slipped into your mouth.
it was as sloppy as any first kiss, but you can still smell the wild daffodils you received on your thirteenth birthday. it wasn't him that had picked them, but Hans, friend, and cook's (your father's) helper. Helmut couldn't meet the two of you just before dawn and by the time you arrived, the two of you were already laying on the grass and eating the last of your cake. when Hans, seeing how messy you've been, clean your mouth with his finger. you, thinking nothing of it, licked the whipped cream off of it. however, Helmut couldn't stop thinking about it. he slapped his hand away the second time he tried touching your mouth.
'your hands are dirty,' he explained away his reaction. then you asked where on your face the cream was now. Hans wasn't allowed to reach out his hand, so he answered 'corner of your mouth, piggy.' Helmut had extended his own hand, but you slapped it away: 'your hands are dirty, too,' you teased. 'your hands are the dirtiest,' he replied and stopped you from whipping yourself with the sleeve of your dress. then, it happed: your first kiss.
his lips were at the corner of yours at first. his tongue was next, cleaning you up. when you started to giggle, shoving his shoulders away with no real force, he covered your mouth entirely with his and shoving you on your back with plenty of force. Hans saw it as his time to deny Helmut contact with your mouth. 'a piggy's never clean, so don't even try.'
as soon as his hand made contact with his shoulder, Hans was met with an elbow in the ribs. you were still dizzy from the lack of air and tingly from his touch when you witnessed one of your friends knocking the air out of the other's lungs. you called him out on it, moving from under him to check on the wounded. 'that's not very sportsmanlike,' Hans tried to laugh. 'what would you know about wrestling? you're a kitchen boy,' Helmut said seriously.
you couldn't see it then, not even when they shook hands after you used the pretext of it being your birthday to order the baron's son around: Helmut had squeezed his hand a little too hard and held you a little too close for the rest of the evening.
your second kiss wouldn't come until years later, in the library you've snuck into for the thousandth time. it was just as wet as the first, but it was anything but sloppy. his tongue was trained as it tangled with yours and it made you tingle all over. your hands were sinking into his shoulders instead of pushing them away. your thighs squeezed around the one between your legs as he squeezed your throat and stroked your thrumming pulse. the smell of daffodils faded and the smell of tobacco and schnapps took over your senses.
when you pulled apart for air, you breathed each other, lips licked by a thin string of saliva. Helmut's forehead rested against yours. 'Hans never got to clean this piggy,' his tongued licked the seems for your mouth and he said: 'did he?'
you were not just dizzy this time around, you were out of your mind. there was nothing but a mist in front of your eyes, a fire in your womb, and his strong hand secured around your throat. 'what?'
'my lord,' a third voice startled the two of you, but Helmut continued to hold onto you, his hands wrapped around your bare shoulders to shield you from-
'oeznik, what is it?'
'my lord, I hate to intrude, but,' he whispered, opening the fake bookcase wider. 'your father is on his way here with baron Strucker.'
'you'd think my own father would consider my engagement a holiday,' he sighed as he led you closer to the secret staircase. 'yet he's still working after hours.'
'i wouldn't,' you held onto his hand, your legs bucking and your heart pounding. 'remember when he had you locked in his lab until midnight on your eighteenth birthday?'
'how could i forget?' he squeezed your hand as you followed oeznik and the light from his lantern. 'you tried sneaking in with strudel and milk and spilled most if it on these stairs. didn't you fall on your ass while heading back, too?'
'i had no hands left to holding a lantern, okay?' you jabbed his side as he snickered not unlike he did back then after hearing the tale of you tumbling down the stairs.
'hush, they'll hear us,' you giggled. when he wrapped his hand around your shoulders again, you knew you had to leave him. oeznik was checking the corridor for guards as the two of them searched for the other in the dark.
'i'll send oeznik with details of where and when we can meet next,' he whispered against your lips. 'good night.'
you missed him before he ended the kiss and you parted ways. you missed him as you tiptoed past your sleeping parents and into your creaky old bed. you missed him as you tried not to make it shake when you humped your pillow with his smell still in your nostrils. but you missed him the most as reality set itself in after you awakened from your dream: you're his now, but he'll never be yours.
there are nights when I'm willing to pay real human money for a Helmut Zemo recording like this one. soundgasm audios are the only thing putting me to sleep lately.
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