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faroreswinds · 2 years

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Azure Gleam - Chapter 11

Alrighty, here we go, chapter 11!

Story

Sylvain says its a bit scary because they are trusting the Church a lot. Seriously, this weird mistrust in the Church is just dumb.

The Western Church is undergoing reform now. A new bishop will be chosen too.

Petra is not happy with the Empire and has decided that they will not be having a relationship with Brigid during her lifetime.

Some distrust of the Alliance. Even Shez is like “I don’t know, man.” Doesn’t help that Lorenz also agrees with him, saying that Claude is difficult to trust. So... there’s that.

Apparently Jeralt’s company is working under Randolph. Jeralt really has a poor sense of morality, huh?

Apparently Randolph doesn’t want to be part of the raids they are doing, according to an Imperial solider NPC who escaped. Even “turned a blind eye” to him escaping. Kinda hard to feel pity when the dude was a-ok with conquering before.

An NPC says that some Adrestian Nobles still care about the Empire’s wellbeing, and wishes there was a way we could work with them. I mean... I guess? But once again, it’s really hard to feel sympathy for people who are so ready to conquer. And they don’t seem to be trying anything to stop the Duke either.

Dimitri truly loved Patricia, according to Rodrigue, since she was the only mother he ever knew. Then Rodrigue says that this time, they are the invaders to the Empire. Technically true, but like.... it’s not equal, man, come on.

Felix, in his own way, expresses some concern that his father is running himself ragged. (Then points out that he doesn’t have any room to criticize since he is running ragged himself).

Aw, Hilda sent the Alliance crew a care package. Cute.

Lol, Yuri criticizes Balthus for buddying up with the Empire. Balthus takes it and hits it back, pointing out that Yuri worked for Rowe. Yuri implies he hated it and maybe didn’t have a choice? Oh well.

Annette: “Now we are invading. :(” Shez “They started the fight, what’s wrong with fighting back?” “Hmmm, I’m not sure that reasoning is convincing enough for me.”

Literally why not, what else are we supposed to do, just twiddle our thumbs until the Empire kills itself off?

Some NPCS have changed their minds about the Church, having once believed they were a pile of garbage till they saved their life.

Another NPC admits to siding with the Empire originally since she believed they would win. Now she’s with the Kingdom for the same reason.

Marianne is concerned about Edelgard. Literally why, she started the war.

Of course, Dorothea is also worried about Edelgard. At least she is actually friends with her. But I’m getting really sick of this game gaslighting me and pushing Edelgard down my throat.

Oh, Hanneman appears in a side map! Fascinating, fascinating. So is Ladislava.

And now for the big chapter battle.

Seems like this is similar to the SB battle where a bunch of houses are together as one, except this time on the Empire’s side instead of the Kingdom one.

Dimitri reminds everyone that we are the invading force this time, so it makes sense that the houses are banding together to protect their livelihoods.

“Not after what we have done” Ashe, buddy.... they attacked first.

Dimitri comments that he knows that if they lost their way, he knows that everyone will help him come back from it. (YES! This is what AM was missing, so nice now).

Oh, we can recruit Linhardt and Constance this chapter? For some reason, I thought Linhardt would be later.

Looks like we are killing Duke Gerth. Kinda a shame, really. He’s actually a nice one.

Oh, Monica is here! Can I kill her?

Linhardt is a Holy Knight? Interesting. Oh also, Hanneman is here.

Linhardt says he doesn’t have it in him to kill Petra. Petra is way cutthroat though, kek.

Lol, Linhardt calls us cruel for beating him up first before we actually ask him to switch sides. He does kinda have a point, lol.

So we killed Baron Ochs. But not the other lords.

Manuela is here too, excellent.

Wait, we don’t kill Monica?! NOOOO

Ok, maybe we killed two more Empire lord. Still, low death count so far. Manuela just retreats too. Hanneman as well, And Duke Gerth. Not as devastating as the SB version was, which basically killed everyone except Annette, if you wanted to let her go.

At least this route has guilt, not even SB had that. They even recognize that while it sucks, if they just sit back it won’t be good in the long run.

Whoa, Felix just kinda defended Dimitri, saying not to put everything on him. That’s my boy.

Lambert also took the throne young (Rodrigue says too young).

Dimitri and Lambert are nearly identical, except Lambert had a shorter temper.

Rodrigue had hoped Felix wouldn’t have been like him so much. Both he and Felix can’t live without serving some sort of greater purpose. For Rodrigue, that was living to make sure he kept Lambert’s promise.

Rodrigue says that Dimitri needs someone to take his hand and pull him in the right direction. He says he needs a friend, not a retainer, to do that. I guess that’s their piss poor reasoning for why it has to be someone besides Felix or Dedue.

Whoa, Arval gave his stamp of approval of Rodrigue, calling him a wonderful man. And he’s RIGHT, DAMN IT.

Oh, hi there Randolph. Guess this is his time to die.

Basically, the Empire army is mostly reduced to scrabble competing to kill the most or whatever. All picked by Duke Aegir.

Randolph tells Jeralt that if he dies, his contract will be considered terminated and Jeralt will be free to stop supporting the Empire and it’s fall into depravity. If he wasn’t an invading force, I would almost respect him.

Time to march closer to Enbarr.

Paralogue

Dimitri, Rodrigue, and Sylvain Paralogue....

A Sreng attack is coming. The leader was a previous prisoner of war that Sreng had offered up. Despite the attack having killed Matthias’ first wife, he agreed to take the boy and treat him well. He taught him the language and the ways of Foldan. But the boy eventually ran back home, with all that knowledge to boot.

Dimitri finds it profound to be on the same battlefield that his father had been one once. Sylvain finds it uncomfortable that it’s still the exact same fight though.

Lol, it’s funny that only Felix is missing here, like the trio of the past (Margrave, Rodrigue, and the late king) versus Felix, Sylvain, and Dimitri.

Matthias’ first wife was a start pupil of the Black Eagle house, and a classmate of Rodrigue and Matthias. Matthias became known as the “Wall of Ice” after she was killed in the Sreng attack.

The Sreng Commander had been planning this for a while now. Seems to also be using the Margave’s tactics he had taught him years ago.

And he apparently knew Miklan and Sylvain personally as well, so he must have been there for quite a while.

After his defeat, the commander ran off. But before he did, he and Sylvain joked with each other a bit.

The Margrave feels upset, that he taught the man how to speak their language and educated them. But Dimitri says that that was how they managed to get through to him in the first place.

Sylvain wants to bring peace between the Kingdom and Sreng, even if it takes him his whole life. Sreng wants a port and warmer land, but the Kingdom already has little to spare. So Matthias has no idea how this could end in peace.

Matthias kinda stormed off. Despite calling Sylvain naive, he actually wonders to Rodrigue if he himself is actually the naive one. He agrees with Rodrigue that he will go apologize to Sylvain for what he had said to him.

Lambert had hoped to forge peace between Duscur and Sreng. He was unsuccessful with Sreng, but had been making strides with Duscur.

Dimitri hopes this will end in peace, especially since he wants to end the need for Relics.

And I guess he did because we got the Lance of Ruin! Wish we could actually SEE that scene but... Well, we kinda do in another route-ish? So, whatever.

While not an exciting battle, I liked the premise of the paralogue and what it had to offer to the story on the whole.

A little extra note here, but this commander is 100% Leif (from the book Military History of Partholon). He is technically a prince, although never named as such. Oleg, the Sreng chief, died when a large beast (likely the Wind Caller pissed that people were in his home, but it could have been another random beast) killed him. Leif is his grandchild, the youngest of Oleg’s son’s children.

Supports

Now that Rodrigue is back, we can get to his supports.

Shez and Rodrigue B - Shez wants to have a snowball fight after the war. But apparently, Kingdom snowballs fights are basically snowball wars.....Of course it is. So cute though, thinking about Rodrigue getting ambushed by Lambert. And Matthias is apparently a cunning snowball fighter. Then Ingrid’s dad came out of nowhere (he is much older than the others) and grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks and forced them to end the fight. Stinking cute.

Rodrigue and Dimitri A - They talk about Lambert’s death a bit. Then, Dimitri asks what would Rodrigue have done if Dimitri had died that day too. Rodrigue urges Dimitri to value his life, if he wants Rodrigue to value his own. Dimitri doesn’t want Rodrigue to die for him, he believes it would destroy him. It would be like losing his father all over again. Touching support.

Yuri and Dimitri B - Dimitri learns that the people aren’t just standing around waiting for handouts. He wants to be a ruler that listens to everyone. Yuri points out that before people can participate in the government, they need stability and food on the table. Stability, food -> no longer worrying about dying -> more willing to go get educated -> get educated -> can understand what they would want or need for their future more -> participate in government intelligently. Yuri offers his services to help Dimitri raise the funds needed for this process, but Dimitri refuses at first (mostly because Yuri is a known underground crime lord) but promises to consider it. Yuri promises that he would never do something underhanded in Dimitri’s name. I’ve wanted this support chain for years, and it has not disappointed.

Shez and Catherine A - Not a particularly exciting support. I don’t really have anything to say about it. Just a “put one foot in front of the other” support.

Sylvain and Ignatz B - That painting is from 200 years ago, around the time when the Officer’s Academy was founded. They think it might be a painting of the archbishop at the time, although wonder why she is painted in plain clothes. Apparently her rule was not long, because she “died” of illness. It is said birds mourned her loss? The woman also looks like Rhea (so it’s probably Rhea). They speculate that maybe the lady (Rhea) wanted to be represented in common clothes on purpose to be free of the trappings of her position, or maybe the painter wanted to represent how she cared about the poor and downtrodden. A sneaky support about Rhea in the end. Has me wondering, though, why Rhea faked her death by illness 200 years ago.

Ingrid and Marianne B - Ingrid grew up around Pegasi, which are basically horses on wings. Why tf is Ingrid so suddenly incapable of being around her horse properly. And why are they talking still, go fucking save your friend on the battle field!

Felix and Raphael A - Felix goes hunting for boar. Kinda cool that this support calls back to Petra teaching Raphael hunting techniques. Felix talks about how his house and Dimitri’s house used to go hunting together (Dimitri bagged a shit ton of animals, Felix barely got away with his life against a boar). Raphael goes confused about which boar Felix is talking about (kek). I guess Felix isn’t the best hunter, lol. Raphael helps him take down the boar, learns a lesson along the way... sort of. Helping ain’t a bad thing. Also calls Raphael a friend. Cute.

Sylvain and Yuri B - Yuri and Sylvain snuffed out some spies. Sylvain had not hesitated to dispatch them, which surprised Yuri. Yuri admits that he is surprised that Sylvain didn’t hunt him down for killing his brother. Sylvain says its water under the bridge if Yuri helps with the war. But warns that he will not hesitate to kill him if Yuri betrays them. Still, they respect each other. Yuri comments that Sylvain is actually a loyalist deep down (except in CF, kek), and then suggests a date might be fun. Like... a date date. Sylvain is into it? Oh mama, oh lord, these boys will be the death of me.

Annette and Lorenz B - Lorenz compliments Annette for her achievements. Annette is surprised. Their relationship is mended to a degree.

Annette and Ignatz B - Annette clears up some misunderstandings. Gustave may be the best fighter, but he’s a worrywart, and terrible taking care of himself. So while he may be an outstanding fighter, but knights need more skills than just being the best fighter. So Ignatz still has a lot of strengths that are contributing, even if it’s not Gustave’s level of fighting.

Yuri and Seteth A - When the plague came through the kingdom, Yuri was saved by an old man. His mother found him, and they took the man in and cared for him. Then Yuri got sick. Yuri doesn’t know how, but the old man saved him. (The old man is dead now). Seteth then tells him that one of the Ten Elites had a terminal illness, but was cured because he got a crest. Yuri concludes that the old man must have given him a Crest, and that he is going to live a very long life as a result. Seteth, quietly, reveals that the old man was likely Aubin. Apparently, Aubin cursed the blood that flowed through his veins, but likely found salvation because he was able to save a child’s life through it. I guess Aubin might have been one of Nemesis followers before he changed sides, and cursed what he had done. Only a guess on my part though.

Shamir and Catherina A - Catherine had wanted to go drag Shamir back after Shamir slipped away. But Rhea stopped her, and that it wasn’t fair to impose the Church on others, especially those from another land (HMMMMM, NO SHIT?!). They both admit that they missed each other, and that they trust each other deeply. If Shamir didn’t switch sides as easily as slipping burgers, I might actually believe her. Sort of. I mean, she’s mot lying here, but despite the romantic undertones Shamir can still kill Catherine and show very little remorse for it. At least Felix goes into states of depression.

Books

Military History of Partholon

Harpstring Moon, Year 892

The Sreng people mounted a large-scale invasion. They crossed the Ruska Mountains in the north and descended south into Faerghus.

King Banfig built a string of strongholds along the north of his domain, from Blaiddyd to Fraldarius, including Conand Tower.

Wyvern Moon, Year 895

Sreng was forced to retreat. The Kingdom was poised for a counterattack.

However, Sreng’s resistance and harsh, snowy conditions caused them to abandon their attack. Thus, hostilities drew to a close.

After the campaign, a young and fierce general by the name of Laetitia Zoe Gautier, royal knight and descendant of the elite hero Gautier, was widely praised.

Great Tree Moon, Year 896

Banfig confers the northern part of his territory on Laetitia. She is given the title of margrave and tasked with defending Faerghus’s border.

She strengthened defenses in the north, constructing strongholds throughout the Ruska Mountains on the border of Sreng, and reclaiming the Lance of Ruin from the Church of Seiros.

... Verdant Rain Moon, Year 1169

Having waited for summer, King Lambert joins with northern lords Gautier and Fraldarius to march on Sreng. The Kingdom army sets up camp in a single stronghold within the Ruska Mountains and opens hostilities with the Sreng army.

While engaging the Sreng chief Oleg and his forces. a gigantic beast suddenly enters the fray. It lays waste to both sides. Lambert sustains grave injuries, and Oleg disappears into a ravine.

Oleg’s son offers his own youngest child Leif as prisoner to House Gautier to broker peace.

#Azure Gleam #my-playthrough #Three Hopes

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bazwillendinflames · 2 years

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Something My Soul Needs 6/6

AO3

First chapter | Previous chapter

This fic is a WWDITS collbaeration with FanFictionette and updated every Friday.

So, choosing the right victim had never been just about taste. The realization struck her with the force of a freight train. Suddenly it all made sense, her seemingly random stomach upsets - they were rare, but they had always come after draining some depressed human. How could she have been so stupid as to miss such an obvious connection?

Sad victims don’t sit well with Nadja.

Five times that she suffers the consequences of draining a miserable human, and one time someone else does.

Nadja hadn’t even needed to taste the little group of nerds Guillermo had found to know they’d be bitter. No matter how good their obviously virginal blood might have tasted, the sadness would overpowered it. Besides, it was more about the principle of virgin blood anyway, in the same way that you’d simply enjoy a sandwich more if you knew no one had fucked it.

It wasn’t the game of make believe that made the girl seem so terribly miserable - Nadja herself had done plenty of daydreaming as a young human girl, longing to escape her little village, her overcrowded home, her sad little island - it had been the way that stupid man bossed her around. Men like that were often bitter and miserable as well, so Nadja didn’t make a habit of biting them, even if she wished to take them out of the world.

Nadja returned to the next meeting alone, watching the sad girl again, whilst Nandor and Laszlo plotted against the Staten Island Borough Council on the Baron’s misguided orders. The girl was pressed into the corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. Nadja had been like that once, and seeing this sad girl was enough to make all those painful memories come rushing back.

Nadja had visited Antipaxos a few times in the hundreds of years since she had made her escape. Laszlo had wanted to see where she had grown up, so of course Nadja had given him the tour, although the island that had once been her whole world was now foriegn to her.

Many generations had passed, and the stories she once had known were almost lost. Even her own legend - the one that had terrified the locals into driving her away in the first place - had faded over time. The small villages had been rebuilt, and the people seemed lighter, happier. Nadja never killed anyone when she visited her first home. The memories of the agony she endured in her early days as a vampire there were still far too fresh in her mind.

Once Nadja had laid eyes on that sad little girl, she had known what she must do. Every woman deserved enough power to overcome her bullies. And Nadja was the one who could share it. Nadja could give this girl the freedom she deserved.

Even at the cost of her own comfort.

Nadja had known what she was getting into when she decided to bite Jenna. Unsurprisingly, her stomach started to cramp up on her flight back to Staten Island. Such a sad, lonely girl was bound to taste bitter, no matter how virginal she was. Of course, Nadja had been careful not to drink too much from the little human, just enough for her own ancient blood to take root in Jenna’s veins, but that had still been enough to turn her stomach.

Nadja was sure that the girl was in an even worse state, riding out the painful transformation process. But Jenna would emerge stronger than ever, and then Nadja would be there as her mentor. Until she was ready, Nadja allowed herself to rest, gathering her own strength.

Nadja spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch in the fancy room with Gizmo’s hot water bottle laid across her tummy to ease the cramping. She gritted her teeth and groaned as the waves of pain came. Colin Robinson, the only one home, had been kind enough not to mention the fact that she had changed into the gray sweats he hadn’t seen in eight years, and Nadja suspected that his rambling had been a concentrated effort to help her get some sleep despite her stomach ache, rather than any effort to actually drain her already low energy levels.

Nadja had only just woken up by the time Laszlo returned, smelling vaguely of garbage. Her hot water bottle had long since gone cold, but her stomach had settled somewhat. The nap had helped a little - not that she’d ever admit that to Colin Robinson. Still, Laszlo took one look at her in those baggy pajamas and rushed to her side in concern.

“My darling! What happened?”

Nadja allowed him to fuss over her. Laszlo draped a blanket over her shoulders and sat down beside her on the sofa.

“Those little nerds Gizmo picked out,” Nadja admitted. “My own fault, really.”

“They did smell good,” Laszlo said. “Still, you shouldn’t have done it!”

Her belly cramped again. “Laszlo, please, lecture me when I’m better.”

He looked guilty. “Yes, sorry darling. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

It took almost three days for Nadja to be able to eat again without feeling sick to her stomach. At least her recovery had been far from lonely. Laszlo stayed by her side, while Guillermo and Nandor kept the camera crew busy enough to ensure that her moment of weakness went undocumented. When she finally was feeling better, Nadja put her returned strength to good use and prepared Jenna’s training schedule.

Nadja had been keeping an eye on Jenna from afar. The potential she had seen in the girl remained unfulfilled. She was still in the hissing and eating small livestock stage of her transformation. Nadja remembered it well from her own - how her body had changed, how the sun had burnt, how the hunger she’d felt her whole life had morphed into something new.

It was becoming clear that Nadja would have to quit observing and actually teach Jenna herself - it was too painful to see the poor girl try to figure it out on her own. So, she stepped in one night while Jenna was wandering around in a park.

“Am I going to feel like crap for all of eternity?” Jenna sounded so small, so pitiful, that it was almost like she didn’t have powerful, supernatural blood running through her veins.

It was becoming very clear that Nadja’s mentorship was sorely needed.

“Darling, you feel like crap because you are eating crap. Let’s find you something better to eat.”

“Like what?” Jenna asked timidly.

“Human blood baby! I saw how those nasty men treated you. Let’s prove them wrong.” Jenna still seemed unsure of herself. Nadja wrapped an arm around her fondly and pulled the girl into a hug. “I’ll train you myself. Best of the best. Just listen to mama you stupid little baby.”

Jenna’s training began shortly after, although there were definitely some setbacks. Even with Laszlo’s help, Jenna wasn’t strong at climbing, or flying, or transformation. But every vampire was good at something and Nadja was determined to help her discover whatever that ability was.

“I guess I got invited to a party. Well, kinda, they invited the girl next to me and I was in hearing range so….”

“Excellent!” Nadja clapped her hands excitedly. “We will get you the first tasty human meal and you will feel amazing darling.”

Jenna looked unsure. “Really? I don’t like parties and I don’t even have anything nice to wear.”

Nadja looked her over. “That’s alright. How about I teach you the art of doing makeup without a mirror?”

“Sounds easier than flying,” Jenna said. “I mean, you look amazing, so…”

“Come along darling.” Nadja sat Jenna down and started looking through her bag. She got most of her makeup by stealing from their familiars. Her favorite lipstick had belonged to one of the ones who had met an unfortunate end after trying on Laszlo’s witch skin hat, and her best eyeliner was once Guillermo’s, from back before he started dressing like a librarian.

She showed Jenna how to apply eyeshadow by touch alone, something that came in handy when Laszlo wasn’t around to do Nadja’s makeup for her.

“I wish I could be more confident,” Jenna admitted. “You wear these badass Victorian dresses and no one gives you a hard time. I don’t even have the confidence to wear my light up sneakers.”

“I was like you once,” Nadja told her. “I was a little sad girl with no friends, stuck on a miserable island in the middle of the ocean. They chased me away.”

“But you’re so cool!”

“Darling,” Nadja said gently, “you will be cool too! And beautiful, and powerful, and sexy. No need to look so bashful baby, we will do this! You will be the best vampire I’ve ever trained. Don’t tell Laszlo that. Or do!” Nadja pressed her lips together and smiled. “Are you ready? Shall we show those stupid human men this new, cool Jenna?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Best night of my life!”

The party had gone well - Jenna had finally found her stride, taking out three victims in one night. Once Nadja had cleaned the blood from her sweet little face, they opted to walk home. Jenna wasn’t quite up to flying yet, but a few more lessons would help, especially now her confidence was much improved by her first successful hunt.

“Can we watch the sunrise? I’ve never stayed up late enough to and it would be so fun and cozy!”

Nadja winced. “So, funny story…”

Before she could get into exactly how horrible and firey their deaths would be if they tried, Jenna stopped walking and groaned. She clutched her stomach. “Ouch.”

“Jenna my sweet little baby turkey, are you feeling alright?” Nadja was momentarily overwhelmed by the urge to lay a palm across Jenna’s forehead to see if she had a fever.

“Yeah - no, I think?”

Nadja arched a brow at her, confused.

“It's just, um, does your stomach ever hurt after you, uh, eat someone?” Jenna asked. She had managed to stabilize herself, standing up again, although she kept her arms wrapped around herself. “Is this like, part of the transformation?”

Nadja sighed - she'd hoped that her…allergies (she'd come to think of them as such ever since Guillermo had explained the concept) wouldn't be passed on to Jenna, but no such luck. Laszlo had gone unaffected by both the nausea and cramps that pained Nadja from time to time ever since she was turned, but Jenna clearly wasn’t so lucky.

“I was afraid of this.” Nadja admitted. “But let’s get you home first darling, then I’ll explain?”

Jenna nodded. She was in no state to fly, even if she could, so Nadja simply scooped her up in her arms and headed in the direction of the house.

No one else was home when Nadja and Jenna arrived back at the house, so Nadja led her charge into the fancy room and gestured for Jenna to make herself comfortable on the antique sofa.

“Tell me, darling, did you have any allergies when you were a pathetic little human?” Nadja said, sitting on the armchair opposite Jenna

“Um, I couldn't eat gluten?” Jenna said, more a question than a statement.

“And that shit stupid man you feasted on last night, what did you notice about him? How did he taste?”

“He was kinda…sour,” Jenna said. “And not like, in the good way like gummy worms!” She clarified. “That’s part of it, right? I mean, should the blood you drink taste a certain way?”

“Precisely! Very good, little one.” Nadja encouraged, smiling wolfishly. “You will be an expert vampire in no time! That means he was a miserable, depressed arsehole - I can't eat them without getting sick either.”

Jenna nodded thoughtfully. “I probably can't take any medicine for this, can I?”

Nadja shook her head. “I'm afraid not, my dear.”

“So… what can I do, then?” Jenna asked. “What do you do?”

“Well, it helps to stay warm, and get plenty of rest.” Nadja said. “You can take a bath, or use one of those hot water bottle thingies.” She paused thoughtfully. “And I always have Laszlo around to take care of me.”

“Wish I had a Laszlo…”

“You will, baby! Do not worry.” Nadja assured her. “But for tonight, you have me! You will stay here, and I will help you feel better, alright?”

“You will?” Jenna asked, her eyes getting all big and wet. Nadja patted her shoulder. “So, we’re like, having a sleepover?” Jenna asked.

“A what?”

“A sleepover!” Jenna repeated. “You know, when you stay over at someone's house in your pajamas and you paint each other's nails and talk about your crushes and stay up all night watching movies - you never did that?”

Nadja smiled wistfully. “It's been a very, very long time since I was a little girl…”

“Well, then this will just be extra special!” Jenna said brightly, already looking more perky. “Y'know, ‘cause it's your first one!”

Nadja hated wearing her usual Victorian finery when she was feeling ill, so the first order of business was to find something extra cozy for Jenna to wear.

Up in Nadja and Laszlo's shared crypt, Jenna watched as Nadja rifled through an old oak dresser, flinging clothes here and there as she searched.

“Ah-ha!” Nadja exclaimed. “Here we are!” She held up a faded sweatshirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. “Now, these are very, very ugly but they will be much more comfortable than your jeans and the rest of your silly layers.”

“These are yours ?” Jenna stifled a laugh at the thought of elegant, fashionable Nadja wearing such ratty old sweats.

“Of course not! They are Colin Robinson’s!” Nadja's affronted expression suddenly went soft. “He - he sort of let me borrow them the last time that I was getting really sick, and I - well, it isn't very nice to wear a corset when your tummy hurts...” She trailed off, staring at the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“You cannot ever tell him this,” Nadja continued with a pointed look at Jenna. “But I guess his stupid ugly sweating clothes did help me feel better, so now you may have them.” She handed the pajamas over to Jenna.

“Then what are you gonna wear?” Jenna asked.

“What?” Nadja asked. “I’m not the sick one here.”

“You can’t stay in your fancy clothes during a sleepover!” Jenna said. Then, she was struck by an idea. “Oh wait! I think I actually have something for you!”

Jenna shrugged off her backpack and began rifling through the pockets.

“I saw this super cool tie-dye thing on Pinterest, so I tried to make a cute lounge set like they did in the video, but then the sweats I dyed were too big on me, and black really isn’t my color.” She produced a bundle of bleach-stained black fleece from her bag. “I put them in here because I thought it would make me remember to drop them off at one of the donation boxes on campus, but I never did.” She handed her failed craft over to Nadja. “So now you can have them!”

Nadja ran her hands over the fabric. It was the same soft fleece as Colin Robinson’s gray ones, but much more her style. “You made these?”

“I more sort of decorated them.” Jenna corrected. She winced and inhaled sharply. “You like them?”

Nadja got changed behind the antique room divider, leaving her elaborate gown, corset, and layers of complicated petticoats in a pile on the floor. The pajamas were even more comfortable than she’d hoped, though the joggers weren't quite long enough on her legs. Even if Jenna hadn’t offered, there was no way that Nadja was giving them back.

“I’ll be right back my dear!” Nadja left Jenna alone to get changed. Jenna didn’t have a coffin yet, but she would still need somewhere comfortable to rest for the day, so Nadja swept through the house snatching up spare blankets and pillows. At least Jenna would actually be able to sleep - she wouldn’t ever have to worry about keeping ancestral soil with her unless she left the country.

Nadja decided against barging back in unannounced. “Jenna my darling, are you decent?” She asked, knocking on the closed door. It would take time for Jenna to get accustomed to the casual attitudes toward nudity and privacy that so many vampires shared.

“Yeah, you can come in!” Jenna had folded up her jeans and shirt and shoved them back in her bag, and had taken out a slim computer. It was a newer model, at least a decade ahead of Nadja’s own. “Movies!” Jenna exclaimed as she unfolded her laptop.

“Wait! I almost forgot!” Nadja said, dropping everything she had gathered onto the floor. “I’ll be right back, just make yourself comfortable!”

Nadja made her way down the hall and under the stairs to Guillermo’s sad little corner, where she quickly located the hot water bottle she had borrowed earlier that same week. Since Nadja had forced Guillermo and Nandor to swear that they would keep the cameras distracted while she recovered from the bout of illness brought on by turning Jenna, she’d finally caved and asked Guillermo how to use the electric kettle he kept in their seldom-used kitchen. Thankfully, the process turned out to be as simple as filling the kettle and flicking a switch.

When Nadja returned to her crypt with the hot water bottle in hand, Jenna had taken the liberty of spreading all the blankets and pillows around on the floor to create a cozy little nest. Nadja sat down beside her as Jenna set up her laptop in front of them.

“Here you are, little one!” Nadja sing-songed as she handed the hot water bottle to Jenna, who accepted it gratefully. “That should help you feel better.”

Nadja couldn’t help but smile at Jenna’s contented sigh when she hugged it to her middle. The stomach aches Nadja had suffered in her early years paled in comparison to the ones she would get these days, but it had still been uncomfortable. If only she could send a hot water bottle to her younger self.

Nadja draped a blanket over Jenna’s shoulders and watched in awe at how quickly Jenna navigated the glowing screen before them - she’d have to ask for lessons sometime.

They watched all of Jenna’s favorites, which she insisted was a sleepover tradition. Nadja thoroughly enjoyed Legally Blonde and She’s The Man , but she was rather disappointed when Jenna told her that she wasn’t actually supposed to like the stroppy boy in the trench coat in Heathers .

Halfway through Clueless , Jenna gave a wistful little sigh.

“I’ve always wanted to go to California. It was my dream as a kid.” Jenna repositioned herself, pulling another blanket onto her lap. “I’ve never even left Staten Island before.”

Nadja was reminded of her time in California with Laszlo. It had been out of necessity but they did have an excellent time. Maybe being around all those stars was exactly what Jenna needed. “You know, sweetie, maybe you should think about going to the hills of Beverly!”

“What would I do there?” Jenna asked, looking at Nadja in confusion.

“Well, now that you are vampire, and you have all eternity to go exploring, it might be a good place to start your journey!” Nadja explained. “I went there with Laszlo during the big sadness in the 1930s - everyone here was so miserable and I was getting sick all the time, but all the rich people in Hollywood were much happier. Much easier to find good food.”

“I guess I have always wanted to see LA…” Jenna said thoughtfully.

“I spent my life on a little island too, before I was turned. I finally got to see the world. If I had never left Antipaxos, I would have never met my darling Laszlo…” Nadja smiled and turned back to the movie. “Just something to think about.”

Jenna fell asleep towards the end of Empire Records , so Nadja draped a blanket over her and shut down Jenna’s laptop before curling up on the floor facing her.

My sweet little Jenna… Nadja thought.

They could talk more about California when she was better.

Nadja wiped at her eyes as Jenna finally loaded her final suitcase up onto the train. She was filled with a strange, almost maternal pride. Jenna bounded back over, left with only her bulky backpack. She was smiling already, sharp teeth on display.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Jenna said, bouncing up and down and causing the little lights in her shoes to flash. “I would never be brave enough to do any of it without you.”

“I always knew there was a brave little fighter in there,” Nadja said affectionately. “Now, do you remember what I told you?”

“Hypnosis is all about confidence, don’t fly in bad weather and make sure my food isn’t too sour,” Jenna recited. “You taught me so much.”

“Of course baby.” Nadja reached out and pinched Jenna’s cheeks. “Look at you! Ready to leave your home for the first time!”

“Thank you for everything.” Jenna said, pulling Nadja into a tight hug. “I’ll send you a postcard from LA!”

Nadja nodded. “Excellent.” The final boarding announcement crackled over the speakers and Jenna turned back to her train. “I’m so proud.”

Jenna was already stepping onto the train, turning to wave at Nadja one last time before the doors closed. Nadja dabbed at her eyes again. She always got attached to those who she had turned. Jenna would have been a great addition to their strange family, but she had adventures of her own to go on first.

And if Jenna was even half of what Nadja had been at her age, she had many more adventures ahead of her, and a family of her own to find.

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nadja wwdits #jenna wwdits #nadja of antipaxos

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from-the-clouds · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :)

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“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow.

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss.

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering.

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared.

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature.

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world.

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band.

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now.

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again.

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat.

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her.

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give.

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued.

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her.

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on.

But oh, how much she wanted it to.

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk.

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly.

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all?

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more.

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered.

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right.

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her.

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone.

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth.

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

----

Part III

Series Taglist: @juice-1981 @sapphiredreamer26 @tatooineisdry @marvelsvision @spookycereal-s @trelaney @fireghost-x @booksarekindaneat @thunderingbats @felicityofbakerstreet @takacsgram @mischiefmanaged71 @fanfictionedagain @merelyhooper @gyllord @mundaytuesday @friday18eo @lovegood7553 @adara-wolfhart @a-djarin @farawaywasteland @sky-writes-stuff @fuckinglittlekitten @katyasrussianaccent @agent-jbarnes @neoarchipelago @pattispunk @kpopnena @purebloodwitch @spookyconsultingcriminal @msmarvelwrites @professorrw @lazyradeecal @captainrexstan @notyourfuckingbusinesss

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged, or if I forgot to tag you for some reason! :)

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo #helmut zemo fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo #baron zemo #bucky barnes #sam wilson #daniel bruhl #helmet zemo fanfiction #tfatws imagine #mcu #mcu imagine

1K notes · View notes

demoneyesanddamagedsouls · 3 years

Text

One Way Or Another

Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Warnings: Helmut Zemo (He needs his own warning), canon typical violence, weapons, smutttt, unprotected sex, piv sex, FATWS spoilers

Summary: Helmut Zemo is someone you just can’t seem to figure out. But is this mysterious man more than meets the eye? What happens when the two of you are thrown into close quarters...

A/N: Ok this is my first Zemo fic I hope y’all enjoy! Let me know if you want me to make this more than one part I feel like I could definitely make more chapters if anyone is interested!

Word Count: 4.2k

|| Writing Masterlist ||

Get added to my Taglist!

Kätzchen – kitten (german)

The evening was cool, the breeze from the water surrounding the island of Madripoor whipped through your hair as your cheeks and ears blushed red at the sharp sting of the frigid air. You leaned lightly on the cool steel railing of the large balcony admiring the incredible view from Sharon’s apartment in the heart of the island. The whole city was alight in an incredible neon glow, every building shining a different colour, the reflections of light bouncing off the water surrounding the island making the whole metropolis glitter against the deep black of the night sky.

The breathtaking scene in front of you easily rivalled some of the incredible stolen art which resided inside the apartment in amongst the clamour of the party. Music drifting from the boom of the speakers out of the ajar door that led to the outside space, the thin glass muffling the heavy noise but not barring the gentle vibrations of the bass that ran through the floor and up your legs.

It had been a long day, the five of you had managed to extract some information about Karli from the elusive Dr Nagel and you were all ready to set out the next day, excluding Sharon of course due to the price on her head. So tonight, they had decided to enjoy themselves. Sharon had already had a party to auction off some of the art planned weeks in advance, so the timing lined up perfectly, giving you all the opportunity to let go and enjoy yourselves before you were thrown into the heat of battle once more.

You certainly had been enjoying Sharon’s extensive liquor stash, letting the boys pour you drinks throughout the evening, enough that you were feeling a soft buzz of alcohol running through your veins, while your belly warmed itself with the final dregs of a dark spiced liquor which swirled around the glass you held in your fingers that you couldn’t quite remember the name of. You sighed softly, your breath puffing out in front of you in the cool night air, as you simply enjoy the stillness of the moment.

Not a second later, as if you had summoned him purely through the power of thought, you hear the door behind you creak slightly as more of the muffled music begins to pour out of the opened door frame. You hear him walk up to you, the heels of his boots clicking on the crisp stone tiles of the balcony as he approaches you. Feeling the heat of his gaze as if it were a physical touch as he traces the outline of your form with his eyes, moving up the thin stiletto of your patent black heels, up the exposed skin of your calves, your thighs, the soft curve of your ass hidden underneath the short black skirt of your skin tight dress, finally landing his gaze on the soft plush of your cheek as he stands next to you, mirroring your same stance, leaning across the balcony railing.

You turn to look at him, Helmut Zemo, the man who had been working with you and the boys to help take down the super soldier Flag Smashers. He was wrapped in a lucious black fur trimmed coat; the luxurious fabric draped over his strong shoulders broadening his physique making him look more imposing. All you could think was how broad he would look caging you in underneath his torso in the soft plush of his bedsheets. Beneath the striking coat rested a maroon turtleneck which adorned his torso tapering down to the silver buckle of his belt which secured the slim black slacks which hugged the strong muscle of his legs. You can’t help but envision his strong thighs pressed against the back of yours as he rails you from behind. Fuck. You shake your head attempting to break your train of thought, a hard task when all you can feel is his warm breath tickling the exposed skin of your neck.

You shudder gently at the feeling, which he mistakes for a shiver against the brisk wind, quickly moving to remove his jacket and place it over your shoulders. Suddenly your senses are full of him all at once, the warmth of his body heat that he had created in the jacket, the delicious smell of his cologne filling your nostrils. The gesture is sweet and caring only serving to further confuse you. You had no idea what to make of this man beside you. You couldn’t decide if you should hate him after all the terrible things he’d done, the people he had killed, the violence he had inflicted or, if you should look at him with fresh eyes, as a man who had changed and learnt from his mistakes. The man you had witnessed firsthand here in Madripoor. You knew you couldn’t trust him. Not completely. But something about him lured you in, a burning curiosity to find out what his mysterious persona hid beneath the surface.

Not a single word had passed between you in the minutes that he had come to stand beside you. The air crackled around you both with an unsaid tension thickening the space between you like a fog descending across a field in the early morning. You knew you were staring but you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away from the soft expression that rested in the features of his face, a mixture of concern and curiosity as he looked you over. His gaze rested on yours, holding eye contact with you, as he waited for you to say something, his eyes darting down to the soft plush of your lips as you finally managed to form some words to break the silence. Your filter substantially diluted by the strength of the alcohol you had consumed.

“I just can’t seem to figure you out Zemo.” You say, eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner as you analyse the features of his face. Trying to read his expression as he looks back up catching your gaze in his.

“What’s there to figure out Kätzchen?” He smirks, a teasing quality to his voice as he looks down at you.

You sigh in frustration, narrowing your eyes as if to articulate how you were studying him and his reactions as you spoke, lips moving slowly as you dragged out your words, giving them emphasis, “This whole broody mysterious but sweet thing you have going is not fooling me… I can’t decide if I should hate you or like you.”

He pauses, mulling over your words, “Why not a bit of both?” Quirking his eyebrow as he responds, a close-lipped lopsided grin spreading across his cheeks as you roll your eyes at his retort.

Resigning to the fact that you weren’t going to learn anything by talking his ear off with these probing questions. You lean back removing your elbows from the railing, standing upright once more, still not quite as tall as Zemo even in your reasonably high heels. Pulling Zemo’s warm coat off your shoulders, you grip the gorgeous fur trim as you pass it back to him, shivering slightly at the briskness of the outside air as the soft wool leaves your skin.

“Shall we go back inside and join the party then?” You say eyebrows raised, determined to enjoy the rest of your evening, trying to move past your complete inability to read the man in front of you.

“Let’s, little one. I’ll make you another drink.” He says smiling softly, slipping his coat back on and gesturing to the door with an extended arm.

You pass him your empty glass and strut forward past him and back into the electric energy of the party. Moving through the crowds of people socialising and looking over the beautiful artworks, you make your way through the dim blue light of the room to the illuminated tiles of the dance floor. The space was teeming with people moving to the music swaying in the strobe lights as the upbeat rhythm of a sultry song permeated the air. Washing over you like wave of movement, your body starts to move to the music, the familiar melody causing you to break out into a blissed out smile as you sway your hips to the passion filled lyrics.

Looking around the space as you gyrate to the music, you catch a glimpse of Zemo from behind the bar pouring a semi clear liquid into lovely matching crystal glasses resting on the bench top. He must have felt you watching him because in that moment he flicks his gaze up directly at you, catching you watching him. For some reason you feel drawn to him, knowing how much trouble he is, how dangerous he is. You’ve seen him kill with your own eyes. And yet you can’t help the strong attraction to him, his danger mixed with the softness he showed you. You didn’t even know if he was interested in you like that. But fuck were you interested in him. Throwing your inhibitions to the wind thanks to the bit of liquid courage you had been consuming you hold his gaze, continuing to dance, moving seductively as you sway your hips to the music running your hands over your body.

Tracing your own form with gentle fingertips, you close your eyes for a moment as you bite your bottom lip, enjoying the sensation of your caresses. Blinking as the light of the dance floor floods your vision once more you realise that Zemo had disappeared into the chaos of the crowd. You spin around looking for him, worried that you’d scared him away with your forwardness, suddenly coming face to face with that very grin you had been searching out. Zemo looked down at you, watching your lips form a small ‘o’ in surprise at his proximity as he extended his hand, the drink he had made you resting in his calloused palm. A broad smile breaks across your face as you take the crystal glass out of his hand brushing your fingers purposefully across his skin.

“Turkish Delight,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear, “Irresistible.” A quiet confidence lingering in the air around him as it always did.

You pull the glass up to your lips, closing your eyes once more as you take a deep sip relishing in the delicious taste of rosewater and sugar mixed with the sharp tang of vodka flooding your taste buds. You let out a satisfied moan as you pull the glass away from your lips, looking back up at Zemo through your dark lashes and you catch him tense up slightly at the sound that had just escaped your lips.

The mood shifts as the next song starts to play, a slower melody with a deep baritone voice filling your ears from the speakers. You turn towards the speakers, trying to focus on recognising the song which sounded so familiar, when suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist pulling you swiftly into the warmth of the body behind you. Zemo had pulled you flush against him, your back resting against his warm torso, as he gently sipped his matching drink. You are swept up in the feeling of him against your back the feel of his arm over your waist, his splayed hand pressing against your lower stomach, the heat of his palm seeping into your skin through the thin material of your dress, making your cheeks flush a bright red at the effect he was having on you. The two of you sway slowly to the rhythm, your hips resting against his as your ass gently rocked against his thighs, his warm breaths ghosting the shell of your ear, making your skin prickle as he began to softly whisper the lyrics of the song into your ear.

“What's your name?... Who's your daddy?... Is he rich like me?... Has he taken… Any time… To show you what you need to live?” His sultry voice echoes through your head and desire begins to pool in your lower belly. The flush on your cheeks only growing redder as the words resonate with you. Your eyes drift closed as you soak up every part of the moment, letting it fill your senses, the scent of him, the heat radiating off his strong chest, the suggestive words he had whispered into your ear echoing and reverberating as you become lost in that moment in time. It felt as if everything was moving in slow motion, everything was him.

Your eyes are jarred open quickly as you hear the smash of glass nearby as one of Sharon’s drunk guests decides to pick a fight with another and a brawl breaks out on the dance floor. So quickly that you can barely register what is happening. In a state of shock, you look around trying to figure out what to do when Zemo quickly pushes you out of the way of a fist flying towards your face. He grunts slightly at the effort and you hear both of your crystal glasses smashing against the hard tiled floor as he rushes you into a small room just out of reach of the commotion. Still in a state of shock your finally register what was happening. You had been swiftly pulled out of harm’s way and into the small butler’s kitchen tucked away behind the main living space where the party that you had been attending, which had broken out into a full-on brawl, had been located. You suddenly take in the situation you were in, pressed up against the wall behind the door frame caged in behind the broad body of Zemo. He was crowding his body in front of yours out of instinct as he heard guns fire in the adjacent room.

All you can feel is his body pressed against you, protecting you from harm. You watch him as he eyes the doorway listening to the commotion outside, his features strained in focus as he listened out for any action moving in your direction. All you could think in that moment was that this man who was supposed to be dangerous, supposed to be evil, supposed to be the bad guy, had probably just saved your life and was determined to protect you even if it meant him getting hurt or even killed in the process. That was entirely evident in the way he had pulled you out of the crossfire and was currently using his own body to shield you from any impending damage. And fuck if that didn’t make your body heat up with desire and arousal flood your panties.

The attraction that had been mounting between you had just culminated in the ultimate grand gesture and you realised you could not bring yourself to tear your eyes away from him, half of his face illuminated by the soft moonlight streaming in through the door frame as you gazed at him completely entranced.

“Zemo…” you whisper as you trace the sharp angle of his jaw with a delicate finger.

“Kätzchen?” He whips around suddenly at the sound of your voice, panic riddled across his features. “Is something wrong little one? Are you hurt?”

“No no… but you are.” You whisper as you continue tracing his jaw to the place where you realise the man’s fist had collided with his face. The one he had pushed you out of the way of and instead, he had received the blow that probably would have cracked your nose. He winces slightly under your touch and you pinch his chin between your thumb and forefinger, pulling him down to your eye line to analyse the small bruise that was forming at the base of his jawline. He watches you from the corner of his eye as his breathing hitches, scarcely moving as you caress his skin. Tracing the gentle outline of a forming bruise as you feel his searing gaze burn into you, watching your pursed lips and your worried eyes. You run a soothing hand over the bruise, holding his cheek and his jaw in your soft palm as you look back into his eyes.

“Thank you for protecting me.” You whisper with bated breath as you hold his gaze.

His eyes flicking down to your lips as you speak, unable to stop himself. Entranced by the proximity and the way you were touching him, the way your chest heaved in front of him just brushing against his torso. Suddenly he was on you, lips slanting over yours tentative at first, questioning, but as soon as you responded in kind, melting into his touch, the kiss became more bruising, desperate, ravenous. You moaned into his mouth as he ran a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer. He took this as an opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue. The two of you tangling together as you both explored the warmth behind each other’s lips. His other hand running down the small of your back to grab at the luscious curve of your backside as you ran your hands across the firmness of his chest.

You both pulled apart gasping for breath. Small plumes of air mingling together in the dark of the room. You shouldn’t be doing this, you knew who Zemo was and yet you couldn’t help yourself, you were so excited, turned on even, by the danger, the mystery of the man.

He shook his head at you and whispered breathily, “I’m trouble little one…”

You look into his warm brown eyes slowly turning as black as the shadow of the room. Smirking back at him, the glint of mischief in your pupils evident as you respond, “I like trouble.”

His gaze becomes predatory as your words sink in. Removing the hand from your neck he quickly slams the door closed and locks it behind him taking all the light out of the room apart from a small sliver of moonlight coming in through a skylight above. He pushes you against the wall once more and hungrily slants his lips across yours, capturing you in a delicious but messy kiss, filled with passion and craving. He moves slowly from your lips, down across your jaw and then attaches himself to the pulse point of your neck, biting gently at the soft skin as you moan out in pleasure at the small sharp pain. He wraps his hands around your thighs and lifts you up, holding you against the wall. You respond in kind, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around the crook of his neck, pulling his lips to yours with a sharp tug of his hair. Holding you carefully, his hands wrapped around the muscle of your thighs, he walks you over to the kitchen counter on the other side of the room, sliding you gently onto the cool marble.

He pulls away once more, admiring your already dishevelled state, chest heaving as you catch your breath, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts, your slightly mussed hair falling across the glistening skin of your cheek, the skirt of your dress which had ridden up to reveal a glimpse of your lacy black panties. Fuck you were gorgeous.

“Are you sure you want this Kätzchen?” he says as he regains his own breath.

“Fuck yes I do.” Any inhibition you may have had earlier disappeared, as quick as the sound of the outside world had as soon as the door closed.

Moving slowly towards your figure, he reaches out to the silver press studs that run down your dress, starting at the top of your chest. You let out a small gasp as he touches the visible skin, slowly exposing the matching black lace bra beneath as he undoes the clasps slowly, the metallic clicks the only noise in the room apart from your shallow breathing. He grins up at you completely enthralled by how you were responding to him. He undoes enough clasps to fully reveal your bra and your chest. His movements are that of a man possessed as he traces the swell of your breasts with delicate fingers, leaving prickles of heat in the wake of their touch.

“So delicate, like a rose in full bloom.” He murmured, voice silken as he followed the trail of his fingers with his gaze.

He brings his hands to the front of your dress and pulls it open, one button at a time, the rhythmic click of the clasps bursting was a melody to your ears. Slowly exposing the rest of your body to him as your dress falls off your shoulders, you swiftly pull the rest of the fabric off your wrists, letting it pool around you on the kitchen counter. He slowly makes his way to the crook of your back to unclasp your bra. He makes quick work of the hooks and pulls the thin piece of fabric off you, exposing your chest completely to him. Massaging and squeezing at your breasts, his warm palms feeling exquisite on your nipples, hard in the cold air of the evening and from his ravenous attentions.

Moving his hands lower, he grips onto your hips with a bruising force, moving his head down to your chest, taking one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking languidly on your pebbled nipple, dragging his teeth across it nibbling lightly making you arch yourself into him, desperate for more. You wanted his mouth all over your skin, everywhere he could reach, his attentions are ravenous as he places a particularly cutting bite to your nipple then swiftly switching his attentions to your other breast, leaving a trail of delicate bites across your collarbone in his wake. You keen into his caresses as he begins to move slowly upwards, marking up your chest, your collarbone, and finally your neck with small red bruises made by his teeth. You revelled in the delicious pain of it, the arousal in your panties starting to drip down your thighs at the feeling of his teeth dragging over your skin.

“You look so beautiful like this, all marked up, showing everyone that you’re mine…” he whispers against your skin, “I wonder how your boys would feel about that…” confidence and lust dripping from his words as he watches you react to him.

You whimper as he moves his hand down to your cunt, pressing against you with two fingers against the thin lace material, feeling how you had soaked through the fabric.

“It seems you like it too, Kätzchen.” His tongue languishing over every syllable of the little nickname he’d given you as he tugged your soaking panties down your thighs so that they dropped onto the cool stone floor.

You were now completely exposed to him as he stood in front of you fully clothed. You paw at his chest, feeling his strong torso beneath the fabric as you tugged at the lapel of the jacket, slowly dragging it over his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor to join your panties. Understanding your silent plea he pulls the top beneath over his head, revealing his toned yet soft torso to your eager hands. You run your fingers over his skin, tracing the small outlines of his figure with light caresses as you make your way down to the silver buckle of his belt. Deft fingers making quick work of the clasp then making your way to the buttons of his pants with just as much eagerness.

“Zemo… please.” You whine needily. Your craving getting the better of you. You needed him to touch you, needed him to fuck you, needed him to fill up every one of your senses.

He loved the sound of you begging, mesmerised by your desperate touches as you yank the fabric of his slacks along with his boxers down his legs, his member springing free and resting against his stomach.

You lean forward, watching him as you wrap your fingers experimentally around his shaft, swiping your thumb over the tip, red and leaking with small beads of precome.

He batted your hand away, his gaze burning into yours, “I want to feel you Prinzessin.” You nod your head trying to communicate how much you want that as well, unable to form the words under his devouring gaze. Gripping the backs of your thighs, he pulls you to the edge of the kitchen bench, letting the fabric of your dress drop to the floor amongst the other discarded garments. Your bare skin tingles against the cool marble and you draw in a sharp breath at the change in temperature which touches your most sensitive areas. Spreading your legs with exploratory fingers, he admires your form, taking in your soft skin dappled in the small red marks littered across your body.

“All mine…” He whispers as he slots himself between your thighs. Lining himself up at your dripping entrance.

“Zemo please… please fuck me.” You whimper, desperate to feel more of him.

Gripping onto your hips with bruising fingers he pushes into you, slowly and carefully. You gasp out as you feel every ridge and vein as he thrusts into you. He starts at a gentle pace, relishing in the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his length. He fills you up incredibly and you can’t help the noises that escape your throat.

“Fuck Z-Zemo you feel so fucking good.” You moan out.

You wrap your thighs around his waist begging with your body language for him to go faster, to fuck you until you cant think. He moans at your words and the feeling of your soft skin wrapped around him. The deep guttural noise that had fallen from his lips mixed with the obscene sound of flesh smacking together was intoxicating.

He moves his hand, pulling at the crook of your knee, changing the angle of your body so he can reach an even deeper spot inside you as he increases his pace to a more intense rhythm. The new position makes you throw your head back in ecstasy as he thrusts into you, giving him the opportunity to lean down and pull your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You arch your back into his touch, moaning as he assaults your senses with the feeling of him deep inside you and his warm mouth on your skin.

He holds your hip with bruising fingers as he palms at your breast with the other hand. You slowly pull his hand further up wanting him to replicate the grip he had on your hip around your throat. He groaned as you placed his fingers around your throat giving it an experimental squeeze under your guidance. You felt your walls clench around him as his fingers sunk gently into your neck cutting off your breathing ever so slightly.

“Fuck that made you even wetter Kätzchen…” he murmured, entranced by you and the way you reacted to him, “I want you to come for me little one, come all over my cock. I want to feel you come undone for me. SIng for me, little songbird.” He whispered, warm breath fanning the side of your cheek as he tightened his grip on your throat while his other hand snaked down in between the two of you, thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

You relished in the feeling of his fingers, completely overwhelmed by the incredible sensations as you gripped onto the muscles of his back and his bicep, digging your nails in harshly as he plunged into you with bruising force.

His filthy words ringing in your ear, his cock hitting the back of your cervix just at the right spot, his thumb working continuously on your clit as black spots started to form behind your eyes from his tight grip around the column of your throat. All of it together makes you completely fall apart beneath him, crying out as you ride out the earth shattering orgasm. He moves his hands to your back, tightly holding you upright as he fucks you through your aftershocks, hitting you deep and making you cry out at the oversensitivity. His hips start to stutter as he feels your velvet walls flutter around him, holding his cock in a vice like grip as your whimpers reach his ears. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your shoulder as his orgasm hits him, thrusting slowly as he comes hard, painting your walls with his release. His moans echo in your ears as he fills you up deliciously and all you can feel is him. His body pressed against yours, chest heaving as you both attempt to regain your breath.

Zemo pulls out slowly and you whimper at the loss. Looking down at you, skin slick with a light sheen of sweat as you gazed up at him with hazy eyes, you were slowly coming back down to earth from your high. Gently pushing a stray hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, he smiles, expression soft and warm as he smiles down at you.

As your vision slowly clears Zemo’s handsome face comes back into focus and you return his soft smile with your own. He has a small flick of stray hair resting on his forehead, his usual clean cut presentation ruined by your roaming hands. You spot some of the fingernail marks you had left across his upper arms and bite your lip, excited by the idea of leaving your own marks on him.

“I think hate and like make a pretty good combination, don’t you agree little one?” He says as he traces the plethora of marks across your warm skin, running gentle fingers across the small bruises forming across your chest and around your neck.

You blush at his words as he repeats your earlier sentiment, suddenly becoming shy under his fervent gaze. Helping you off the kitchen counter slowly he holds you gently, keeping you upright as you regain your balance on shaky legs. Zemo grabs a small wash cloth from the other side of the kitchen, soaking it in warm water and quickly bringing it over to clean up the mess between your legs. You smile at the gentle, caring nature he was displaying.

After cleaning himself up he pulls on his boxers and trousers, looking over at you as he sees you reach for your lacy undergarments. Reaching out, he grabs your wrist as you clutch your panties and bra.

“Don’t put these back on Kätzchen… I-I want you to walk out of here without them.” He murmurs with lust blown eyes as he pulls your dress off the floor and begins to dress you in it, “I want to be the only one to know that all you wear underneath that tight fabric are... my marks…”

You shiver under his touch as he buttons up the front of your dress. Picking up his coat he gently wraps it around your shoulders, letting the fur rest around the soft skin of your neck as the soft outlines of his grip begin to appear on your throat. “There we go, my little songbird. hidden... only for me…” he says as he strokes the lapel next to your cheek, straightening the fabric.

You watch him as he pulls the top back over his head and combs his hair back into position out of his face. Grinning up at him you say, voice sultry and warm, “Maybe I’ll see you later Zemo.”

“If that is what you wish little one… how could I say no to such a good girl...” He whispers in your ear as he suddenly disappears out the door, smirking with a confidence only he could pull off.

You feel desire lick up in your belly again at his quiet promise. This man would be the death of you… one way or another...

#baron zemo #zemo #sugar daddy zemo #zemo fanfic #zemo x y/n #zemo x oc #zemo x you #baron zemo x female reader #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x oc #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #falcon and winter solider series #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #marvel #daniel bruhl

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Meeting the Baron (2/7)

Chapter 2. Madripoor

Summary: When the Baron takes your search to Madripoor, the four of you are forced to play your roles. A role that brings you much closer to Zemo than you ever thought you could be comfortable with, but is it entirely an act?

(Yes, we're doing the fake dating trope. I don't care if it's overdone, I'm obsessed)

Part 1

Word Count: 4696

Zemo had provided each of you with, what he deemed to be, appropriate disguises. Bucky’s was fairly simple, just enough to make him look like the Winter Soldier, but Sam’s suit was brighter and apparently very much the style of the Smiling Tiger, not that he was a fan. You had instantly become hesitant when you opened the package that Zemo had handed you, staring at the black dress and strappy heels in disbelief. You knew that you had to keep up appearances, the people you would be meeting only understood three things, power, money, and women. Still, how were you meant to react if something went wrong while wearing this.

Putting on the garment only made you less sure. The dress was fitted to perfection, which was curious to you since Zemo never asked for your size, and the material was soft to the touch. It ended above the knees and had thin straps over your shoulders, it was more revealing than something you would usually wear but the length kept it surprisingly classy. You actually looked like the Baron’s partner rather than a date for one night. The dress itself wasn’t that uncomfortable, just impractical since you couldn’t hide a gun under it, and you were a little surprised by how good it looked on you, but the shoes were the bigger problem, being impractical. You wouldn’t be able to rush somewhere too easily.

Once you finished getting ready, you put on the necklace that Zemo had left for you and headed back out into the main room. Of course, the Baron’s date would need to have some sort of jewellery to really sell it.

“Finally” Sam sighed when he heard the door open and close behind him, the three men turning to you.

“What? Don’t look at me like that” you complained, noticing the surprised looks on Sam and Bucky’s faces.

“Just haven’t seen you all dressed up before” Sam shrugged. “And I thought I looked overdressed” he joked.

“You look good” Bucky complimented, hoping to make you feel more comfortable.

“Thanks, Bucky” you chuckled, shaking your head at him. “But of course, you haven’t seen me in anything like this before, I’ve never had the opportunity and if I could afford all of this, I would have retired by now” you pointed out, making them both laugh a little. You made a fair point.

“I, for one, think I made a perfect choice. You look wonderful” Zemo complimented, making you all look over at him. “Are you all ready?” he asked as he approached the three of you, holding his hand out for you to take.

“We aren’t there yet, keep your hands to yourself” you reminded him.

“Apologies” he nodded, lowering his hand. “But once we get out of the car, we all need to be in character” he warned the three of you, who just nodded in understanding.

A car picked the four of you up and dropped you off just outside the meeting place, and this time when Zemo held his hand out to you, you took it and let him help you out of the car. He offered his arm to you and you took hold of his elbow, letting him lead the way, Sam and Bucky following behind.

You couldn’t decide what was worse, watching Bucky fight while pretending to be the Winter Soldier or watching Sam drink whatever it was that the bartender gave him. Both were painful, and while witnessing each you had unconsciously gripped Zemo’s arm a little tighter, and he had pulled you a little closer each time. Luckily, while at the bar, Zemo had gotten you something a little sweeter than Sam’s drink.

Finally, Selby agreed to meet with you all and you were sent through to see her, but things only got more tense.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands” Selby spoke as the four of you entered the room. She sat comfortably on one of the couches, arms draped over the back cushion, watching you all like she was trying to read you.

“Not a demand. An offer” Zemo corrected her.

“A lot has changed since you were here last” Selby claimed as Sam crossed to stand on one side of the room while Bucky positioned himself on the other. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” she asked curiously.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered as he sat down on the couch opposite her, guiding you towards him by the hand. Without speaking, he was looking you in the eyes, as if to convey the choice that he was asking you to make.

You took a small, unnoticeable breath before quickly making a decision, placing yourself comfortably on his lap. You’ve surely done worse.

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for” he continued, wrapping one arm around your waist to keep you steady and placing his other gloved hand on your bare knee. An attempt to be respectful while still being convincing.

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger” Selby suddenly turned her attention to Sam, who only responded with a nod.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him-” Zemo got her attention back onto him, gesturing to Bucky, his offer to her “-along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately but tell me…would she do anything I want?” the attention was suddenly put onto you as Selby stared you down, putting you on edge. You couldn’t help but tense a little, this wasn’t part of the plan and it unsettled you.

“This one only sings for me” Zemo informed her, his hand inching up your thigh slightly to prove his point. His touch left goosebumps in its wake, which you tried your best to ignore but you were sure that he noticed it.

Knowing you had to sell this, the hand you had on his shoulder lifted to play with his hair (though, not enough to mess it up) while you placed your other hand against his chest, smiling sweetly at him. Yes, you had noticed his attractiveness before, but this was the closest you had ever been to him and the longest you had been looking at him, and it only left you admiring him a little more. Luckily, you could blame it on acting if anyone noticed. Plus, his cologne was invading your senses and you found it oddly comforting.

“That’s a shame” Selby hummed. “But you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or…condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but things didn’t go as planned” she informed him.

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked but your attention turned to the hand he had returned to your knee when his thumb started stroking little circles against your skin.

“Oh. The breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me” Selby shook her head in disapproval. “Maybe we could work something out if you could make your little bird sing” she suggested, eyeing you again, and you couldn’t help but lean closer to the criminal who’s lap you were sat on.

“Go on, Liebling, answer her” Zemo prompted, giving your thigh a small reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry, but I only have eyes for one person” you claimed with a convincing smile, gently resting your head against Zemo’s shoulder. You would straddle his man right here in front of everyone if it meant she left you alone.

“And she is not a bargaining chip” Zemo insisted, holding onto you a little tighter, almost protectively. That brought a more genuine smile to your face.

However, when you glanced over at Selby, you could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t entirely convinced; you couldn’t tell whether she was trying to uncover your act or just find a weakness in your supposed relationship that she could exploit to get what she wanted. Your grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, trying to convey your concerns to him. It did seem to get his attention as he turned his face towards you as you lifted your head from his shoulders, resulting in your faces ending up a little closer than you expected.

Now or never. You had to sell this act if you wanted all of this to go smoothly. You lifted your hand, tracing your fingers alone his jaw as you put on your best love-struck smile. Zemo was watching you carefully, he knew what your possible moves were from here and while it surprised him, he would let you make the play.

So, you lent in closer as your fingertips reached his chin, lips hovering just over his. The hand on your knee brushed upwards, gloved fingertips touching the hem of your dress. Any longer would be suspicious, and so you closed the gap and touched your lips to his. You had made the move, you had kissed him, and so Zemo allowed himself to take the lead.

The hand on your thigh tightened as he deepened the kiss, what surprised you the most was that you returned the advancement, your hand cupping his jaw to hold him closer. You simply couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him and how this just didn’t feel as wrong as you thought it would.

While the moment felt disconnected from the others and endless, in reality it hadn’t been that long at all. And while it was beginning to feel easy to forget about where you were, you didn’t, slipping your hand down from his jaw and too his chest as you pulled away.

“Well, don’t let us interrupt you” Selby teased but she seemed to be fully convinced now. The comment put a slight blush on your face, but you figured it worked for the act, so didn’t worry about it. You still avoided looking at either Sam or Bucky, not wanting to see how they were looking at you after that little show.

Selby finally seemed to give up on getting anywhere in that deal, she wasn’t going to get her hands on you, and the conversation could continue.

As Zemo and Selby spoke, you fainlly spared a few glances at Sam and Bucky. Bucky was still in character, though he seemed even tenser than before, but Sam managed to sneak a small look in your direction that silently asked if you were okay. You gave him the smallest of nods before disguising it by resting your head against Zemo’s fur collar.

Things were going well, that was until Sam’s sister called him and your covers were blown, resulting in Selby’s death. All four of you knew that you had to get out of there as soon as possible, you had made it out of the building with no trouble and were walking down the street when people started shooting at you all, wanting to claim the bounty for Selby’s killers.

The four of you reacted the only way you could, you knew that you couldn’t fight back and win right now, so you all ran for cover. Bucky and Sam bolted ahead but Zemo had supplied you with thin heels, causing you to stumble on the uneven ground. You cursed to yourself, only to have somebody pull you off to the side. It was almost too quick for you to process but Zemo had wrapped an arm around you and pulled you along with him, in a different direction to the other two.

The two of you kept your heads down, slipping off into an alleyway before deciding that it was safe enough to slow down and speak. It seemed that the bounty hunters had mostly followed Sam and Bucky.

“I can’t believe you made me wear these stupid shoes” you complained as he guided you through the alleyways of Madripoor, he obviously knew where he was going.

“I thought they looked nice” Zemo weakly defended himself but sounded confident in his claim.

“Sure, but not so great when you’re being shot at” you scoffed.

“If your friend had turned off his phone, none of this would have happened” he pointed out but that didn’t make you feel any better about the situation.

“We better be going to find them” you warned him.

“Of course” he nodded.

When you were sure that nobody was following you, the two of you slowed down a little and focused on regrouping. You followed Zemo, your attention focusing on him when you saw him reach into his coat and pull out a handgun just in case you had been followed.

“When did you get a gun?” you asked, catching up to him and glaring up at him.

“I picked it up” he shrugged.

“Hand it over” you ordered, holding your hand out.

“No” Zemo answered as he glanced at you but kept walking.

“Yes. You’re a criminal, I’m not letting you have a gun” you stated the obvious as you came to a stop, grabbing his arm to stop him too. “Give me the gun” you demanded once more as he turned to you.

“If I don’t?” he asked, almost playfully.

“Are you…are you joking? Give me the damn gun” you thrusted your hand out towards him again.

“At least ask nicely” he chastised.

“…please?” you sighed, giving in.

This time he didn’t hesitate before placing the gun in your hand. “Very good” he praised before turning and continuing down the alley. You watched him in disbelief before continuing to follow him.

“You also didn’t warn me that it would get cold in Madripoor before parading me out here half dressed” you complained as you caught up with him again, a cool breeze blowing past you.

“I would not parade you around” Zemo stated sternly, almost like he was offended by the accusation. “And in my defence, I expected to be back in a car by now” he reminded you.

You just hummed in response, unimpressed with his excuse, while wrapping your arms around yourself for some extra warmth. The gun still in your hand since you had nowhere to put it.

“My apologies for not coming more prepared” he apologised as he came to a halt, causing you to stop too. Without another word, he slipped off his coat and held it out to you.

“Not necessary” you mumbled, shaking your head as you turned down the offer and walked past him.

As you passed him, Zemo carefully draped his coat over your shoulders. Not letting you go cold simply due to your stubbornness.

“Thank you” you still gave the Baron a small, grateful smile before slipping your arms through the sleeves, already feeling much warmer. His cologne lingered on the garment, making it all the more inviting, but you tried to ignore that feeling. Zemo returned your smile as the two of you continued navigating through the various alleyways.

Finally, you reunited with Sam and Bucky, where they had run into a familiar face. Sharon, you had heard of her but had never actually met her before. She took you to her place where you could stay for a little while, she also happened to be hosting a party of sorts that same night, so she offered to let you all change. Meaning you got to change out of the uncomfortable dress and into some black pants and a simple black top. Simple but enough to make you fit in. You had also changed out those flimsy heels for a more comfortable pair of boots.

“Ah, much better” you let out a sigh of relief as you walked into the room the others were sitting in.

“What is wrong with the dress? It looked good on you” Zemo questioned, taking in but still approving of your new look.

You gave him a sarcastic smile before realising he was the only one of you who hadn’t changed, but you guessed that he was the only one of you who was wearing his own clothes in the first place. “Are you not changing?” you asked him as you handed him his coat back.

“Should I?” he asked, gesturing to his own attire.

“…suits you” you shook your head, and you weren’t lying. He had certainly found a style that suited him.

Zemo smirked to himself as he placed the coat down and turned to pour two drinks, keeping one for himself while holding the other out for you.

“Hey, just leave her alone, alright?” Bucky warned him, obviously still on edge from your performance earlier.

You just laughed to yourself and accepted the drink, already becoming more comfortable around Zemo than you probably should be.

Sam managed to talk Sharon into helping you all out, she promised to look for information but in the meantime all you four had to do was enjoy the party.

When you joined the party, you had shared a drink with Sam and Bucky but at some point, the two of them ended up wandering off to explore by themselves. You remained at the bar, nursing your drink, and just enjoying being able to relax for a moment.

Sipping from your glass, you looked around the dance floor, watching the guests dance until your gaze landed on Zemo. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, his dancing was awkward, but he seemed completely comfortable, not caring if anyone was watching him. But it didn’t seem like anyone was, all caught up in their own worlds. It was difficult to see this man as the criminal he truly was when he was dancing like…that. It just made you smile.

After a moment of watching him, he met your gaze, realising that you had been watching him. He only smiled and beckoned you over. Your eyes widened slightly, that just wasn’t a good idea, but he beckoned again as he continued to dance.

You contemplated it for a moment before finishing your drink, stepping down from the barstool and walking in his direction. You carefully pushed through the crowd until you reached the Baron. It might not have been a good idea, but you wanted to see how this went.

“Is this how all Barons dance?” you asked, speaking just loud enough for him to hear you over the music.

“Is there something wrong with the way I dance?” he asked, now pumping his fist in time with the music.

“You’re the lamest criminal mastermind I’ve ever met” you insulted him, but he didn’t seem to take it seriously, he just continued. “God, this is embarrassing” you laughed, shaking your head at him.

Zemo smiled at making you laugh before trying to draw you in, “then show me how you would dance.”

“Oh no, I don’t dance” you shook your head, quickly trying to get that idea out of his head.

“Apparently neither do I” he joked, making you bite back another smile, but this time he held his hand out for you.

You glanced down at his hand, like you were considering it, before looking around a little, like you were doing something wrong. Maybe you were.

“Worried that your friends will catch you? Worried about what they would think?” Zemo asked, noticing the way you glanced around.

You had to make your decision, so you did. “No” you answered, placing a hand in his to reaffirm your answer.

“Don’t worry, let’s just pretend that you’re still playing the role of my date. You do play it well, after all” he suggested, letting you step closer before actually placing a hand on your waist and pulling you closer.

“Careful, or I’ll turn you in” you threated, hoping he didn’t notice the slight pinkening of your cheeks, but still placed your hands on his shoulders when he released your hand.

“We’ll see” Zemo had a little smirk on his face as he slipped one hand around to sit on the small of your back, looking at you like he knew something that you didn’t. The action brought you a little closer, causing you to snake your arms around his neck. What could possibly be wrong with one dance?

The two of you were lost in the crowd, other guests shielding you from Sam or Bucky catching a glimpse of you both. Turns out, Zemo was holding out on you because he was apparently a much better dancer than he let on. You weren’t lying about not being a dancer, but you didn’t feel lost for a moment, because he guided you through it, moving with the music. If you were being perfectly honest, it was the most fun you had had in a long time. Which was strange considering the circumstances that brought you to Madripoor and the man who you were dancing with.

Unfortunately, your time at the party was cut short when Sharon came for you all. She had gotten some information and the location of Dr Nagel, and while that was very helpful, a part of you actually wished that you could have a moment longer with Zemo on the dancefloor.

Neither Sam or Bucky gave you a questioning look or anything, so you assumed that they hadn’t seen you together. And so, you all climbed into the car and headed to the location Sharon had heard about.

The four of you headed down into the secret lab while Sharon remained outside to keep lookout and fight off some of the bounty hunters that were still after you all. Inside the lab was the doctor you had been searching for and, with some persuasion, he had explained that Karli had taken all the remaining vials of serum with her and he had none left in the lab. Twenty vials to be exact, she had twenty vials and you had no way of knowing how many super soldiers she had already created with them.

That was when Sharon came running in, alerting you that you were running out of time and there where bounty hunters already outside. Before anyone could react, Zemo had pulled out a gun and shot the doctor, and then before anyone could do anything about it, the lab was attacked.

An explosion sent you all flying to the ground, hands scraping against the floor as you tried to soften your fall. Your vision slowly returned to you and you gathered your senses, looking around enough to see the flames that were engulfing the lab. A sense of panic set in as you pushed yourself off of the floor, looking around for any sign of the others.

You could see Sam, Bucky, and Sharon had been knocked down by the blast but they seemed to be alright as well, though you would all probably be rather bruised.

“Anybody see Zemo?” Sam asked with a slight groan as he lifted himself up.

You looked around the burning lab and managed to catch a glimpse of the Baron escaping. “I’ve got him!” you assured them as you climbed to your feet, lifting your arm to shield your face from the heat as you followed after him.

“Y/n” Sam and Bucky both called after you but you were already gone.

As you exited the lab, your ears were still ringing, and the blast had been disorientating. You couldn’t see where Zemo had gone, cursing yourself for losing him, but you readied your gun and kept your wits about you.

Movement on top of one of the shipping containers caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but feel a little sense of disbelief when you realised what you were looking at. It was Zemo, wearing a purple mask, with a gun in his hand. He aimed down from the container and shot a pipe that resulted in another explosion, you stepped back behind another shipping container to avoid the blast from it.

Peering around the container, you saw Zemo climbing down from the container he stood on to fight off a group of bounty hunters. He fought better that you thought he would, with skill and a certain amount of ease, and you hated this part of your brain but…it was kinda hot…

Tearing your gaze away from him, you noticed another bounty hunter rounding a corner and aiming their gun at Zemo. Before they could pull the trigger, you stepped out and shoot them. The gunshot got the Baron’s attention, making him turn to you.

Zemo approached you with a sense of urgency, placing a hand on your shoulder as he turned you around and escorted you with him.

“Where do you keep getting guns from?” you asked as he dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“I have an eye for them” Zemo shrugged, the mask hiding his facial expressions from you.

“We have to go back for the others” you told him, looking over your shoulder to see that the scene was out of sight.

“They will be fine” he assured you.

“We’re not leaving them” you insisted, beginning to turn on your heel.

“You’re right” Zemo caught your arm, stilling you. “Just trust me” it was a big ask considering his history, but you still nodded and turned back around, continuing to follow him.

Eventually, the two of you came to an open shipping container. Looking inside, you saw a car, either he had planned something like this, or he had incredible luck. Zemo removed his mask, putting it in his pocket, before the two of you climbed into the car.

“I would like to apologise for last night” Zemo spoke up as he started the car

“What for?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“For if I made you uncomfortable at all during our meeting with Selby, it was not my intention” he explained himself, pulling the car out of the unit.

“…you didn’t” you assured him honestly. A part of you wished that you had felt uncomfortable, that was how you were supposed to feel, but it wasn’t at all. You felt far too comfortable around him.

“Good” he nodded.

“We were just playing are parts” you added quietly but it sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself than him.

“Very convincingly, might I add” Zemo hummed, glancing over at you.

“You might not” you mumbled, making him smirk to himself.

Sam and Bucky watched as the car pulled up in front of them, Zemo in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s seat.

“Supercharged” Zemo smiled as he put the car in park, though the three of them seem less impressed with your arrival.

“I told you I had him” you grinned, earning a short look from the two men.

“You’re going back to jail” Sam threated Zemo.

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” the Baron asked with an exasperated sigh.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s three of us, and at least twenty of them” Bucky pointed out.

“He’s been useful so far and he hasn’t run yet. Now, come on, get in” you nodded towards the backseat.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again…” Sam began to warn but was interrupted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Zemo assured him half-heartedly.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion” Sharon commented as Sam and Bucky climbed into the backseats of the car.

“Come back to the States with us” Sam offered her.

“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me” Sharon nodded before walking away.

“Thanks for everything” Sam called after her before getting more comfortable in the back of the car.

“I think you’re warming up to me” Zemo commenting, looking to you.

“I think you need to shut up and drive” you told him, putting a small smirk on his face before he complied and drove off.

Meeting the Baron Taglist:

@viviace

(Just ask to be added!)

#Helmut Zemo x reader #Zemo x reader #Baron Zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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valwentinefics · 3 years

Text

Altruism Ch. 3 - Zemo x F!reader x Bucky

A/n: So this chapter isn’t the best but I thought I’d give you Bucky fans something. I am benevolent. I can’t wait till I don’t have to type out what the characters say word for word in the show, its torture.

Warnings: Cannon typical violence

Translations: Liebling (Darling)

Series Masterlist

Madripoor - 2024

Y/n’s mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as the group walked down the hall, her hand still intertwined with Zemo’s. She longed to go to Bucky, to ask if he was okay and help him through whatever thoughts were bound to be swirling through his head right now, but she knew she couldn’t, it would jeopardize the whole mission. She was grateful to at least have Zemo to cling onto, despite her feelings about the man. His cool, confident demeanor was comforting to her during this time and his warm hand wasn’t that unpleasant to hold.

“You should know Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Stated a short white haired woman who lounged on a snakeskin patterned couch. Her presence was intimidating, Y/n felt uncomfortable being around her.

“Not a demand, an offer.” Zemo stated, sitting down in a chair and pulling Y/n into his lap which startled her. “Keep with the act Liebling.” He mumbled into Y/n’s ear. She wasn’t sure what he had called her, she had to remember to ask him what it meant later.

“A lot has changed since you were last here.” Selby glanced over to Bucky who was doing his best stoic stare. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” He paused, looking smug. “I’m sure you already know what I’m here for.”

Selby seemed to be stalling, pointing to Sam. “You’re taller than I’ve heard, Smiling tiger.” Sam replied with a nod as always. Y/n considered herself lucky, unlike Bucky and Sam, attention was never on her, she just had to sit there and look pretty. However, that thought jinxed her.

“And who’s the girl? Never thought you were the meek and pretty type Baron.” She commented on Y/n’s frightened demeanor.

Zemo’s arm wrapped tighter around Y/n’s waist “I just call her my little bunny. But Selby, to what we were discussing.” Zemo said, putting the conversation back on track.

“Right then, what’s the offer?” She asked, looking around the room, her eyes lingering on Bucky.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him.” Zemo gestured to Bucky. “Along with the code words to control him of course.”

A mischievous grin spread on her face, sending a chill down Y/n’s spine. “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. The serum is here in Madripoor, Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you’d want to thank, or condemn. He was working on it for the power broker but things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Asked Zemo. Somehow his confident and cool demeanor never faltered. Y/n had to admit, in a way the man was quite attractive with the way he managed to navigate the criminal underworld without batting an eye.

“Oh” she said with mock sadness “The breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost ya’ Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” She got up and began to approach Y/n and Zemo. The tense moment was interrupted by the ringing of Sam’s phone. “Answer it.”

Sam tapped on his phone, a woman's voice coming out of it, the words she spoke making Y/n’s blood run cold. “Hey Sam-” Quickly Sam hung up, but not before the damage had been done.

“Sam? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Selby commanded, that same instant a bullet came flying through the window and into her chest, a choked noise coming from her as she collapsed to the floor.

Y/n sprung up as Sam and Bucky fought the guards, swiftly disarming them with precision. Bucky looked through the scope of the gun he had taken, looking around with the precise caution of a hawk. Y/n moved closer to him, not wanting to be near Zemo any longer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being around him, it was the opposite. She found his touch comforting, and she knew she had to stay away for that reason.

“They’re gonna pin this on us!” Sam worried, standing by the door and gripping his gun.

Zemo only sighed. “We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Y/n was confused. Leave their weapons? How would they defend themselves? Nonetheless Sam and Bucky did as they were told.

The sound of cellphones chiming rang out all around them as they quickly walked down the street. Y/n’s nerves were acting up, her whole body feeling as if it was in fight or flight mode. She was scared of what would happen next, never before had she been the target in a battle. They had just crossed under a bridge when a few lights went out without warning. Y/n looked at her comrades with a panicked look, moments before gunshots rang throughout the area.

Zemo grabbed Y/n’s hand, pulling her away from the others. She stumbled after him as fast as she could, lucky she was somewhat adept at running in heels. Her breath was heavy as she resisted the urge to look back, her body aching to run after wherever Bucky and Sam went. Roughly Y/n was pushed against a wall in an alley, Zemo’s warm body flesh against her own. His breath was hot against her neck as they hid in the shadows until a set of headlights passed by. She barely had time to catch her breath before she was pulled away again. Zemo pulled a gun out of his coat as Sam and Bucky grew closer, shooting a man who was approaching them. Y/n watched in shock as he slumped to the ground. Two more men approached from the shadows, Y/n ran over to Bucky and tucked herself behind him, squeezing her eyes shut in fear before the sound of two more gunshots rang out. Hesitantly she opened her eyes, seeing the two men now dead.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Said Zemo, alarm showing on his face.

“Well this is too perfect!” A feminine voice stated, Y/n’s eyes widening as she realized it was Sharon Carter.

Sharon Carter was kind of awful now, but Y/n couldn’t complain as the woman agreed to help them out after she had the situation explained to her. Now Y/n and Bucky were alone in her apartment above her art gallery as a party raged downstairs. Zemo and Sam had been happy for the chance to let loose after everything that had happened and opted to join the party while Sharon looked for information. Y/n was glad to be out of that godforsaken dress and instead in an outfit of her choosing, no longer feeling like she was flashing someone every time she moved.

Y/n sat down next to Bucky on the green couch, leaning into him slightly. He didn’t seem to mind it, his arm resting around her body comfortably. Unlike Sam and Zemo, Bucky didn’t want to indulge himself in a fun night after the events that had happened earlier, and so as a good friend Y/n decided to stay with him to make sure he was okay.

“Bucky, how are you feeling?” Y/n broke the silence between the two, angling her body to face him.

“Fine… I’m fine.” He smiled at her, although Y/n could see through his façade.

“You don’t need to lie. What you had to do must have brought up a lot of feelings. You don't need to explain them to me, I just want to check up on you.” She looked at the man who’s steely blue eyes were filled with a deep sorrow she couldn’t even imagine feeling. Part of her wanted to hold him close, to let him know he’s loved and cared for, but she didn’t want to overstep right now.

Bucky exhaled, looking away. “I think Steve was wrong about me. Maybe I am just a monster.” His voice cracked as he explained, holding back tears. Bucky’s fear of being nothing but a coldblooded killer was a frequent discussion between the two during late night talks where they poured their hearts out to each other in Y/n’s apartment. So although this thought came as no surprise to Y/n, it still hurt her to see her friend and slight crush feel that way. “It was so easy to fall back into being the Winter Soldier… maybe it's because even after all this time that's who I still am. A killer.” He looked at his gloved metal hand with a sorrowful glare.

Y/n placed a comforting hand on his thigh, moving his gaze from his hand to Y/n, his eyes searching her face for comfort. “Bucky, that’s not who you are. You call yourself a monster but you’re the most caring and kind man I know.”

“I saw how you looked at me Y/n, you were terrified. You were clinging onto Zemo as if you were scared I lost control.” He looked away from her and down at the floor. “You’re the person I care for most now that Steve’s gone, and you were scared of me. I never wanted you to have to see me like that.”

Guilt bit at Y/n, blaming herself for her friend's state. “Yes I was scared. I was scared you would lose control, that you would revert back to the Winter Soldier. My fear was for you, not of you.” She explained. “Bucky, I could never truly be scared of you. Those late nights where we would watch movies or listen to music and just talk about our lives mean so much to me. I know you’re good in your heart, remember when I healed the wounds the Wakandans couldn’t fully fix before you went under again? If I thought you were a monster I wouldn’t have done that, I wouldn’t have wanted to handle your pain for you. But I knew you weren’t a monster, nothing you did was your fault. I know it, Sam knows it, hell even Zemo knows it! And Bucky, I’ll be here for you until you realize it too.” She held his hand between hers, her eyes studying the side of his face.

“Y/n.. I need to tell you something. I-” Bucky began hesitantly, only to pause when Sharon entered the room looking proud.

“Guys we’ve got to go, I found some information about the serum.” She said. The pair stood up, following her to find Zemo and Sam.

The question of what Bucky was going to say hung in Y/n’s mind as she navigated through the crowd of people, her hand reaching for Bucky’s to ensure she wouldn’t get lost. His hand firmly wrapped around hers, giving it a small squeeze as to let her know he would always be there for her. Through the security and safety she felt just by holding his hand, Y/n realized she didn’t need to find out what he was going to say right away. The two would have all the time in the world to tell each other things, because she knew Bucky would never let go, and she never wanted him to.

@yaskna @noavengers @lostghostgirl94 @whatawildone @lady-latte @chipster-21 @viviace @writeroutoftime @spookycereal-s @nadder37 @ajeff855 @safiakillspop @thiccmemechicc @sgold If I missed you, added you on accident, or you would like to be added/removed let me know!

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws x reader #tfatws

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littlemessyjessi · 3 years

Text

“Mother Nature”: Baron Helmut Zemo Imagine: Plus Size

A Helmut Zemo Imagine Commissioned by: She chose to remain anon so I won't tag her but thank you love for your commission! Much love! Notes from cx: "Can you use your oc Jessi for this please? Can we have cottagecore vibes? Can we have an animal mama? Can we have a cool power and some backstory?" Note from myself: Yes, bebe, of course you can have anything you want! -----------

The tension in the jet could be cut with a knife as the three males resided there.

Sam was caught between irritation at Bucky... in general and due to the fact that he would do nothing but glower at Zemo.

And also by the subject of his glowering himself.

He didn't like the situation in any way, shape or form.

But after coming to the resolution that he was more help to them out of prison that he was in... the both of them had agreed to 'let' him stay.

Even when all of them knew that if and when Zemo was ready to flee... he'd just do it.

"So this woman?" Zemo spoke up. "Why is it that we must collect her?"

"Collect her?" Sam laughed. "What the fuck, man? She's a woman. Not a pokemon card."

"We need her." Bucky said shortly.

"Yeah, we need her." Sam laughed. "What I'm not looking forward to is the ass whoopin that she's undoubtedly gonna dish out when she sees us. What was it she told you the last time she saw us?"

"Shut up, Sam."

"Oh, yeah. Something about, 'If I ever see your wish brand Terminator looking ass -"

"Shut. up. Sam." Bucky snapped.

"Then I'll rip that Transformer's reject arm off and shove it up your ass." Sam continued through his laughter.

"I think I may like this woman." Zemo said sipping his champagne with a smirk.

Bucky just glowered out the window and Sam looked thoroughly pleased with himself with the torment he'd managed to provide Bucky in only a few short sentences.

"If I may.." Zemo started only to recieve a menacing glare from Bucky. "If she dislikes you so much what makes you think she'll be willing to help us?"

"Because Jess is easy to bribe." Sam said. "And you're going front the bill for it."

Zemo lifted his eyebrows, "Ah, I thought it would be more interesting. What's her price?"

"Probably some exotic plant that no one has ever fucking heard of and is impossible to get." Bucky sighed, running a hand down his face. "She'll let you know."

"If she doesn't shoot us before we get off the jet." Sam pointed out.

Sam wasn't scared of a lot but Jess McCarty was definitely on that list.

Even if he did find her highly entertaining.

"Oh and she hates Sharon." Bucky said staring our the window again. "So don't bring her up."

"I'm not ignorant enough to bring up another woman." Zemo said. "I was married, you know."

He had been teasing but none of them said anything else.

They weren't exactly on the best terms but even still they wouldn't bring up conversation relating to his late family.

Eventually, they landed in large field with a beautiful mountain landscape decorating the distance.

Helmut could distinctly see a large white truck in the distance.

"So much for easing into the situation." Sam said. "I see she still has Leroy."

"Leroy?" Zemo asked.

"Her truck." Bucky clarified. "Don't ask and don't bring up the bullet holes."

Sam snorted, "Yeah, I think she still owes you a few shots over that."

"Fuck off."

Zemo rolled his eyes at the two of them.

Even after all this time and how much he had become accustomed to their bickering ... it still both amused and annoyed him.

As the three of them descended the stairs of the jet, the slam of a door was heard in the distance.

A woman stepped out and leaned against the grill of the truck, blankly staring them all down.

She was tall, that much Zemo could tell even from a distance, with neck length dark hair that sprung from her head in a wild dark halo.

They'd managed to get about half way to her when she whistled and several dogs bounded from the bed of her truck.

"Fuck." Bucky whispered. "She brought the fucking dogs."

"You better run,"white wolf"." Sam said with a chuckle.

Half amused and half concerned.

"We." he responded. "I'm not the only one here."

"You state your fucking business, Barnes. Before I let them tear you part."

A smirk worked it's way onto Zemo's face as her venomous southern drawl that seemed to contrast so much to her appearance.

She was the picture of lovely.

She looked more like a fairy belonging to a magical woodland than someone associated with the Avengers.

Like a tall, curvaceous Elven queen.

"We need your help and we brought an ATM who has connections." Sam said trying to ease the tension.

She didn't seem impressed.

"I'm not asking again, Barnes. You got three seconds before I sick the hounds on you. And they're hungry. We've been into town passed the diner where they're having a fish fry. My babies are just dying for a snack. And if you even think about laying one hand on them, I'm turning that fucking arm of yours into a coat rack." she spat.

"God dammit, Jess. I told you we need your help. It's a mission and you're the only one who can-" Bucky started before she snapped her fingers and the dogs charged at him. "Shit!"

Realistically, Bucky could've ended those dogs in seconds but if he did, A.) she'd never help them, and B.) she'd make him suffer for it.

Buck let out some kind of strangled cry as he took off away from the dogs chasing after him.

Zemo, no stranger to the military and the dogs associated with it, noted that none of them actually looked as if they were going to harm him but rather just enjoying the chase.

Bucky didn't need to know that though.

"How long are you gonna let them chase him?" Sam chuckled as he and Zemo finally made their way closer to where she stood leaning against the truck.

Jess shrugged, "So what is it exactly that you need?"

"We just need your help with a mission." Sam said. "We can talk about the details later if you decide not to kill us."

She scoffed, "I'm not going to kill you, Sam. But I might maim Barnes a little. Enough to make me feel better."

She finally turned her eyes on Zemo who gave her a small smile.

"So you're the ATM?" she asked with lifted brows. "Do you have a name? Bank of..."

"This is Zemo." Sam said. "He's a Baron and he's loaded."

"Zemo." she nodded, dark brows drawing together.

"Please call me Helmut." he said producing a hand.

She took it firmly as she stared at him.

"Zemo..." she said almost tasting the word in her mouth. "That is so familiar."

Sam sighed, "Yes, it's that Zemo, Jess. And I know what you're thinking-"

"You have no idea what I'm thinking." she snapped, her eyes wretching themselves away from Helmut's soft dark eyes to meet Sam's endless pools.

"Jess.."

"No, you were not there and you do not know." she said as her skin and hair began to change color as her temper rose.

It was then that Helmut recognized just exactly who she was.

"You were there." he said. "In Sokovia."

Her eyes connected with his.

"Yes, I was." she said. "I was with the Avengers when we faced Ultron."

"You're the one that stayed." he said.

"Yes." she whispered.

"You are a hero among my people." he said. "Those of us that are left."

"I am no hero." she said turning away from him and whistling for the dogs who had chased Bucky up an old flagpole and were barking at him.

"There would be many more Sokovians dead if you had not stayed. We were not a large people to begin with and there are even fewer now. I know several who owe you their lives." Helmut said.

"They owe me nothing." she said. "And for the record, of course, I do not support the bombing but I also understand what it is like to be ridden with grief and confusion and anger when you have lost loved ones. Especially as someone who had lost their own children."

Helmut's eyes softened as he thought of his late wife and child and it was then that he recognized the same tendrils of heartbreak in the woman's eyes.

"For what it's worth, I destroyed my fair share of places in my grief." she said. "People will remind us of our faults as long as we live but what they say can never compare to the torture we inflict on ourselves."

Helmut said nothing, only nodded in understanding.

She turned to Sam with a sigh, "I will help you. But I am going to kick Barnes' ass for good measure."

"You sure you wanna go toe to toe with the Winter Soldier?" he teased her.

She lifted a brow, "He is just a man. A soldier. Like the both of you and I can assure that I am not scared of any of you."

"Well, he's not exactly..." Helmut said.

"Yes he is. He lives, he breathes, he bleeds." she cut him off. "And he shot my truck and kicked me off a building. So I atleast owe him a kick in the nuts."

Sam and Helmut dissolved into a fit of laughter as she whistled again and the pack of dogs came running before bounding into the bed of that beat up white truck.

She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

"Do you have a way to follow me? Other than by jet?" she asked through the open window. "Or do I need to drop the hounds off and come back?"

"It's already taken care of." Helmut said gesturing behind to the jet where Oeznik was pulling driving the car off the jet.

"Nice car." Jess said. "I still prefer Leroy though."

"Definitely a beauty." Helmut said. "A little rough around the edges but all wild things are."

Helmut gave her a soft smile to which she returned before speeding off.

"What the fuck was that?" Sam asked.

"What was what?" Helmut asked.

"You flirtin with her?" Sam said. "She will eat you for breakfast, man. And then shit you out and use you to fertilize her little poison garden. Don't go down that road."

"What road?"

Bucky had rejoined the conversation.

"Man, you run like a bitch." Sam laughed.

Bucky just stared at Sam in irritation.

"You couldn't even fight off a pack of dogs?" Sam teased. "One of them was a Yorkie, Buck."

"First of all, I told you that you can't call me that." Bucky said. "Second of all, if I so much as look at one of those dogs the wrong way you know she'll launch a missile at us."

Sam just snickered.

"Apparently, you have a 'kick to the nuts' coming your way." Helmut said and Bucky groaned.

"She is never going to forgive me." he said.

"Why exactly did you shoot her property and kick her off a building?" Helmut asked as they piled into the car.

There was a brief argument about the seat being moved up before Bucky answered.

"Look, the truck was an accident." he said. "It was just caught in the crossfire. And I only kicked her off the building because she was nearly insane."

"Weak logic, man." Sam laughed.

"You were there, asshole!"

"You could've tackled her to the ground."

"While she was trying to choke me to death with vines?"

Sam just laughed at Bucky's predicament while Helmut continued to ponder this woman.

He remembered what little footage there was of her.

After the battle with Ultron, Sokovia had been decemated and the Avengers had left them in the rubble.

In reality, they had tried to evacuate as many as possible.

With the help of Sokovia's own, The Maximoff Twins.

But when it was all said and done, Sokovia was left in the rubble and Earth's defenders just deserted them.

All but the one.

He'd seen the footage.

Shaky cellphone videos of the woman who transformed into animals to move the debris crushing people to death.

Or of how she was in the tents with the small group of survivors using her powers with plants to heal as many as she could.

She'd even tried to plant things and bring the country back to life before the government had basically laid waste to her work.

She'd been most popularly dubbed as Mother Nature by people across the globe but she never spoke in public or confirmed her name.

Helmut got the feeling that she didn't exactly like being apart of the Avengers and certainly did not enjoy the attention that went along with it.

He knew then that it had to have been her that cleared the bodies of his father, wife and son for when he found them among the dead that had been intricately encased in vines with flowers decorating them in the most beautiful way.

When he'd asked about it, he only been told that Mother Nature had stayed to help them.

He hadn't understood that at the time.

After the loss, all he could think of was revenged as grief consumed him.

By that time, she had long since left the Avengers and wasn't on his radar.

He'd never put two and two together.

Helmut drove for the longest time, the lamborghini speeding along the road as they followed the beat up white truck.

The pack of dogs all happily placed in the back, tongues flopping in the wind and tails wagging.

The further they trekked the wilder the country became and soon the hot rays of sunshine only beamed through the thick cover of vegetation above them.

The light through the leaves creating a green glow.

"I feel like Welcome to the Jungle should be playing right about now." Sam commented.

The finally broke through the tunnel of vegetation into a large property of rolling green field smattered with wildflowers and towering trees.

Garden beds and greenhouses were in the distances and horses could be seen grazing freely as chickens clucked around them.

Helmut noted that there were no fences, no pins, no coops for the chickens but instead all he wild life seemed to roam freely.

"Just forewarning you, there's probably a bear or moose around here somewhere." Bucky said. "But don't shoot it or we're dead."

"A bear?" Helmut asked. "She keeps bears as pets?"

"Don't call the animals her pets." Sam said with a smirk, "It pisses her off and as much as I would just love to see you get shot, it's not very practical at the moment."

Eventually they came to a stop behind the truck.

The pack of dogs all bounded out and took off in the direction of several little goats who seemed more than happy to play with them.

Helmut took in the home in front of him.

It was a beautiful home.

Simple in design but stunning in the sense that it seemed to be built around a tree.

"Come inside and have some tea." Jess said. "I'm going to need some if I'm going to listen to whatever utter bullshit you've gotten yourself into this time."

"Uh uh." Sam said with a shake of his head. "That is a lion. I am not going up there."

Jess narrowed her eyes at Sam as Helmut and Bucky looked around for what he was talking about.

Sure enough on the level there was a small balcony where the railing was absolutely littered with cats and a rather large mountain lion was sitting there watching them all with it's great luminous eyes.

"She's pregnant. Relax." Jess said ascending the steps, gently smiling at Helmut when he followed her without reservation.

"Like that's supposed to instill confidence." Sam said. "You ever been around a pregnant female? Hell no."

"I have been a pregnant female, Wilson. And I also very clearly remember the labor pain of having twins. So watch your mouth and come on. If she wanted to eat you she would've already done it. Though if you're so scared, just feed her Barnes. That should tide her over for a while." she said disappearing into the house with a chuckling Helmut behind her.

"This is your fault." Sam said shoving Bucky who only shoved him back.

"Shut up, Sam." he said before they continued up the stairs with Sam moving a little quicker as the cluster of felines watched him.

"I hate cats, man." he sad. "Fucking creepy."

Bucky snorted.

"What?"

"Nothin."

"What?"

"Just fitting that the bird is scared of a little kitty." Bucky teased.

Sam lifted his brows, "First of all, that was not a kitten. That was full on Lion King back there. And second of all, have you never seen Looney Toons. I'm not trying to be Tweety bird."

"Stop being a pussy and come on." Jess' voice rang out. "And shut the damn door. You're letting all the cool air out."

Sam and Bucky grumbled at each other before making their way into the kitchen to see Helmut sitting at the table already happily sipping a cup of tea.

"This is exquisite." Helmut complimented her. "What is it?"

"It's peach and apricot." she said pouring both Sam and Bucky a cup and leveling them both with a look that told them if they didn't drink it she'd strangle them.

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Helmut said.

"It was my daughters' favorites. Flora loved peaches and Fauna loved apricots. So to please them both my husband used to blend them together for their little tea parties. Along with little pieces of toast and jam."

She smiled into her own cup of tea but there was a sadness there that he recognized.

He chose not to remark on it and instead studied her features as Sam relayed the information as to why they were actually there in the first place.

"I've seen the Walker guy." she said. "It's unsettling to say the least. But you know I do the limelight, boys. I walked away from all of that when it became obvious that-"

"Jess." Bucky said. "Please. You don't have to talk to anyone. You don't have to-"

"People died. And not just in Sokovia. Yes, that was the final straw for me but it was happening long before that. I understand that 'earth's greatest heroes' or whatever are there to defend everyone. But no one ever stays around to see the carnage. No one talks about everyone who dies in the crossfire. I joined the avengers out of revenge. I was fueled by my anger and pain and I went on missions. How many have I ended up inadvertantly killing under this ruse of 'for the greater good'. I loved Steve to death but he took that shit to his heart and forgot to use his eyes." she said. "While everyone else is busy looking at the 'bigger picture' all of these other people who perhaps you don't know the names of are dying horrible deaths, boys. I pulled people from wreckage who had moment to live. People who's organs were crushed into nothing and they were rushing to give me messages to pass along to their families. Those people are the heroes and no one ever knows it."

The subject of Steve was a sensitive one for everyone but she had a point and they knew it.

She sighed as she looked down into her teacup again, "I will help you regarding John Walker. But I'm not blindly following orders anymore. I make my own decisions and when I'm done, I'm done and I don't want to hear anything about it when I go."

The three of them nodded even though she wasn't asking for permission.

"You want some more tea, love?" she asked Helmut who's heart fluttered a bit at the soft term of endearment.

"Please." he said watching as she methodically poured him another cup.

"I can not leave immediately." she said. "I have to take care of a few things first. But you are welcome to stay here if you wish."

"And if you're not afraid of the cat." she said, aiming it at Sam. "Tweety bird."

"I hate you." he said flatly and she only laughed.

"Her name is Cleopatra by the way. Or Cleo for short. And if you give her a can of tuna from that cabinet there then she'll be putty in your hands. If you rub her belly then she'll love you forever." she said. "She also seems to enjoy listening to Elvis Presley and laying in the sunlight. If that should interest any of you."

"Thanks, Jess." Bucky said sincerely.

"You're welcome." she said. "But I still owe you a beating."

He sighed, "Fair enough."

She left the table and meandered out onto the lower porch to stay at the horizon.

Sam and Bucky said nothing as Helmut followed her out there.

"Thank you." he said as he stared off in the distance as well.

"For what?" she asked. "The tea? You're welcome, dear. It was nothing."

"No." he said turning to look at her. "For what you did for the bodies. My father, wife and son were among the ones you uncovered. They told me it was Mother Nature. I never put it together but now I see."

She said nothing.

"I did it because it was what I would've liked for my own family." she said. "I'm just sorry I couldn't do it for everyone. I tried but there were so many that needed healing. I didn't have ti-"

"The people of Sokovia know that." he cut her off. "But as a son, a husband and a father, I'm thanking you for myself and also for everyone else."

She said nothing as they stared out at the trees.

"What happened to your family?" he asked her.

He knew, from first experience, how painful it was to talk about something like but he wanted to know.

"There was a bombing." she said. "My husband and I had taken my daughters to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit. It was so wrapped up that day that it was nearly impossible to get food there. So we called in some food a couple of miles away at one of the girls' favorite resteraunts. He'd told me to go and get it and that they'd meet me by the water fountains and we'd have lunch. I was stuck in traffic for a good hour coming back when it hit. They'd called in an air strike because it was confirmed that an extremely dangerous terrorist was there. He'd been on the run for nearly a year from a foreign government and when it was confirmed what he had on him, I guess they decided it would be better to blow everyone there off the place of the planet that risk him setting it off and possibly destroying the world. I saw it hit, saw everything go up in flames before it the whole of everything just crashed into the ground. Like the whole word swallowed it whole." she said, voice shaking.

Helmut watched with rapt attention as she struggled to continue.

"I just jumped out of the car immediately and took off. Police were swarming and I got thrown this way and that but I got loose. My family was in there. My husband. My children. I dove head first into the crater not even thinking about self preservation or logic at all. There were no survivors of course but I didn't care. A mother can't just walk away like that. Or atleast I couldn't. I should've died on impact based on the fall but I didn't. About half way down gas released and I can just remember the burning. My skin felt like it was melting off. I was still falling through the air and my skin was searing hot, burning every nerve ending I had. And then I hit. When I woke up, I wasn't there anymore but I panicked because I was covered in vines. Wrapped up like a mummy in vegetation." she said, a dark chuckle coloring her tone.

Helmut shivered as a chill ran down his spine.

"The local authorities pulled me out when everything had been cleared and they began to sort through the wreckage. I'd been turned over to American government when they discovered my ID in my back pocket. They told me that it took forever for the police to get in because vines kept growing from everything I touched. Several of them were strangled to death as I lay down there unconscious. I was deemed dangerous and therefore put it a high security area. I was told a version of what happened that day and propositioned to join the Avengers. I was angry and grieving and I wanted to find out who murdered my children, my husband... so I accepted without hesistation. So when I tell you that I understand how you got to the point that you did... trust me. I get it."

Helmut said nothing as he reached out to take her hand.

"Perhaps, you and I are not so different." he said.

"Probably a lot more similiar than you think." she chuckled.

"Though I am not a goddess." he said with a small smirk.

"I'm no goddess." she said.

"Ah no?" he asked. "Not Mother Nature then?"

"Sure you can call me mother nature...of the current year where I've been poisoned by the human race and am genuinely fed up with life in general. Maybe Mother Nature's trailer trash cousin, Global Warming." she said and Helmut laughed at her in disbelief. "I can say trailer trash cause I am trailer trash."

Helmut shook his head in amusement.

He wasn't sure of anything in that moment but he was thankful for it and he hoped that perhaps his family was somewhere looking down on him.

He silently thanked them for allowing him to meet the one person who had stayed.

Mother Nature always found a way.

----- Hello my loves! I hope you enjoy this! This piece was commissioned by a lovely lady who chose to remain anon! If you have a commission that you'd like done just reach out and I'll answer any questions you have! Thank you so much for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts!

All my love, Kenny -----

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Also, just a reminder that I am open for commissions!

Additionally, the only tag list I have is my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added all you have to do is just go to the ask box and request to be added! It’s that simple and you’re in!

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Last years collection my ass you think holding your head high as you slip your hand around Zemo’s arm. This dress is so killer you could slay a few of the rich old dragons watching as the Baron escorts you into the ballroom.

You have to give him credit, not that he’s hurting for it but the man has taste.

The dress is black, long sleeved and stops mid-thigh. The cut of the shoulders is exaggerated just enough to draw attention. But what does it for you—the little bit of something special that no one else can see— is the fact that he had Maureen do some extra tailoring and now you know why he wanted you in this particular dress.

When Zemo stood behind you earlier at the apartment and zipped you up, the high turtleneck slowly closed around your throat mimicking the Baron’s own firm hold on your neck. You’d gasped with a fleeting sensation of panic but calmed when he kissed the spot behind your ear, and grabbed your hips, pressing his erection against your ass as he inhaled the scent of your hair. His muffled moan had vibrated through your shoulders and for the first time you realized the level of restraint his particular kind of kink required on his part too and you felt strangely bonded to him through your wonderful suffering. His lips brushed the curve of your ear as he’d whispered… “So that you don’t forget who you belong to.”

After that he’d given you permission to take off the underwear saying that the dress was enough and you’d thanked him, happy to be free of those perfectly evil things.

So now, you’re walking through this opulent ballroom collared and claimed and thankful to be so cared for by a man you can trust with your body enough to let him do these things to you.

“Remember to stay in character.” He says, eyes scanning the crowd “We can not let them know who we are.”

“Of course…Stavro” You say really emphasizing the fake name you deiced he needed on the ride over. Having given up on convincing you it wasn’t necessary he just laughs and kisses your temple before leading you further in.

You love to see him happy even when it’s fleeting and you steal a glance at Zemo in his dark blue suit and crisp white shirt, all of it tailored to the last stitch. He looks Breathtaking as usual… if you could breathe. You run your fingers down the center of your collar and flush feeling a resurgence of that deep connection. You are his and he is most certainly yours. It’s a good thing too, because this place is crawling with horny old men…

The ballroom of this grand hotel has been set up for a casino themed fundraiser. The sort where getting in cost a yacht. Zemo however seemed to have little trouble faking his way onto the list— at least you think he lied— and now you realize you haven’t done anything like this in forever, and certainly not with stakes this high.

The point of being here (as Zemo explained in the car) is to get this guy Polinsky to either give up what he knows about the serum Zemo is tracking down or get his hotel key to search his room. Either works, one is more desirable than the next but When Zemo’s target turns out to be the first man to openly flirt with you, the Baron lets the fates decide and whispers “Go with it”

Acting as though you aren’t here together, he goes down to the side of the craps table, pretending to be interested in the gambling while watching you two.

Polinsky is loud and crude and you really think you might shove the dice in his eye if he looks at you like that again, but Zemo is still calm and collected so you continue to play along. When Zemo motions for you to drink, you take one off the servers tray and share it with Polinksy who probably doesn’t need much more.

Just when you think this is going no where and you’re tired of being used as a ploy, Zemo does his thing.

He brings up Polinksy’s accent and it’s revealed that he’s Sokovian. They become fast friends and after a few more wins, the target is telling the Baron everything, unfortunately it’s not what he needs to hear and you can tell that he’s starting to grow impatient.

You’ve only ever seen what happens when Zemo is sick of you not listening to his commands, and it's cruel in the best way. So what happens in the real world when a dangerous, genius man with a military background is tired of waiting?

When Polinksy tells you to blow on his dice for luck and casually reaches to get a good handful of your ass as you do, you know you’re about to find out.

Zemo moves without much effort or thought, you see it and spot the instinct to protect what’s his immediately. His grip on Polinsky’s arm is shocking and the man’s face goes red instantly with drunken outrage.

Jaw clenched and eyes wide, you see that Zemo is ready to break Polinsky’s arm, but you quickly step between them and lay a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. “No.” You mouth shaking your head. “Follow my lead” You say low enough so that only he can hear.

Zemo gives you an intrigued head tilt, glances up at the man one last time then flings his arm away. “She’s not available.” He snaps at the man who is more annoyed than ready for a fight.

“Forgive me for speaking without asking sir.” You bow your head to Zemo then look up at Polinsky. “He likes to be the one to say when and how I am touched. But he let’s other men do much more than that for the right price…”

Polinksy quickly catches on and shoots a look at the Baron.

Zemo understands instantly and straightens his head. “Apologies, I should have made it clear. She can be yours, but not without me there to insist she be compliant.” He reaches and slides his finger down the side of your face, his hand going around the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your collar and you lift your chin and shut your eyes so that Polinsky can see what sort of situation he’s being presented with.

Someone yells for Polinsky to roll the dice which he does. The small crowd goes wild with another win, but the three of you stay silent.

"How much?”

“Six thousand.”

“Done”

“To watch. Eight to touch.”

He frowns, but when Zemo smacks your ass and you give a little yelp, Polinsky nearly drools. “Sold.”

You’re standing in the middle of the hotel room. Zemo is in the chair in the corner and Polinksy is sitting on the bed.

You’re scared, wondering how far this will go, but one look over at him and you know Zemo would never sell you like this. Not really. He’ll protect you.

“Turn around and bend over.” Polinksy says unzipping his pants.

You glance at Zemo who gives the nod to obey.

You do and you can hear the man moaning when he see’s the line of your pale pink underwear.

“Spread.” He growls standing.

The blood is rushing to your head as you look over to Zemo not bothering to hide your fear.

The Baron is quietly standing up. You reach back and lay your hands flat on your ass and start to, but it’s too much. You don’t know this man.

“I said spread!” Polinksy shouts and you shut your eyes half expecting to feel his hand make contact with your skin, but it doesn’t come.

You quickly stand in time to see Zemo grab his arm and punch the man once before kicking him down and onto the floor. You back away wide eyed, your heart racing and you pull your dress down.

Polinksy is groaning and reaching up as if to grab hold of something but Zemo doesn’t give him a second chance. With a swinging kick to the head, he knocks the man out and you are stunned to see what the Baron is capable of.

“ I needed him off his guard completely. I would not have let him touch you.” Zemo says still looking down at Polinsky who is out cold. He turns away from the gross sight to find you.

You nod but you’re shaken. “ Please, just get what you need and let’s go.”

For a change he listens to you and you watch him rip the room apart until he finds what he’s looking for which seem to be a card, with a name on it? He stares down at the object in his hand, distracted only by the pinging of Polinsky’s phone on the floor.

When Zemo looks down at it, you see the color drain from his face.

“Time to go.” He says grabbing your arm and you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong but he won’t listen or talk, he just moves and pulls you along with him until you’re back downstairs and going through the chaos of the casino.

When he stops, you look up at him trying to figure out what the problem is. “Are we being followed?”

He doesn’t answer, it looks like he’s waiting, or perhaps getting his timing right. You know the latter is true when he falls into step with two waitresses carrying drink trays, with you still held firm.

As they turn to go towards the bar, he goes the other way heading for the doors and the two of you are outside and practically running towards the waiting car.

“Drive” Zemo says once you’re safely inside.

As you speed off, you look over at him. The night took an unexpected turn but you made it out, doesn’t that count for something. “Didn’t you find what you were looking for?” You ask.

He doesn’t look at you, just nods and looks out the window.

You haven’t seen him like this before —wait— yes you have. “It’s all right. I’m sure everything will fall into place now.” He doesn’t say anything, and you, for the first time don’t know what to do. He reminds you very much of that silent, broken man he was eight years ago.

Giving him space, you sit back and look out your own window until you feel his hand lay over yours on the seat and you spin your head around surprised but relieved.

He holds your hand tight and raises it up, kissing your fingers before pulling you over.

“I could have killed him.” He says starring ahead angrily. He is stroking your arm gently but you know what these hands can do. “And you…”

He looks down and you see the way his anger fades, but he holds onto it long enough to say “You broke rule one.”

You laugh a little and shrug. “I knew I could get you into his room.”

“Perhaps don’t offer yourself to strange men next time?”

“You went along with it while it was working!”

“I did, but I didn’t like it.”

“Me either.” You say looking off.

Zemo hooks his finger around your chin turning your head to face him again and he slips his hand up to cradle your cheek “You, are an extraordinary woman. And I—am lucky to have you.”

You melt in his arms trying your best not to profess your true feelings and wonder what’s stopping you, but before you can let the thoughts progress, he kisses your head and raises your chin a little more to look deep into your eyes. “You will take off your dress.” He says softly and you realize he’s got a hold of your zipper with the fingers of his other hand. “You will lay down in the middle of the bed on your stomach and you will wait for me.” He whispers in your ear as he pulls the closure down to the center of your shoulder blades and stops. “Understood?”

You nod “Yes Baron.”

He does that soft, deep moan that is equal parts pleased and aroused as he looks you over, smoothing a wayward strand of hair from your face, his brows knitting together with concentration before relaxing again. “I will thrash the memory of that man from you until you remember that you belong only to me.”

#baron zemo #zemo fatws #zemo x reader #zemo x you #baron zemo fanfiction #zemo smut #anticipation #submisivegirl #strong female characters #yes sir #yes baron #jelousy #he adores you

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write-r-die · 3 years

Text

Prisoner - Part 13

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

Thomasin was horribly ill in the morning due to the combination of her courses, sleeplessness, and anxiety. Etheldreda summoned Elaine without needing to be asked.

“Are you often like this in the early days of your time?” Etheldreda asked when she was sure Thomasin was, for the moment, finished vomiting in a bucket.

“Not often, thank God,” Thomasin croaked.

There was a knock at the door. A moment later, a very small Elaine came rushing in.

“Mercia is with me,” Elaine said, following after her miniature. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The little girl looked very much like her mother. Her curly blonde hair was light but still a shade or two darker than Elaine’s straight, pale tresses.

Thomasin did mind but she wasn’t in a place to object.

Elaine removed her satchel and unpacked its contents: around a dozen small jars filled with herbs and flowers. She set a small cauldron of water over the hearth to heat while she muddled peppermint, ginger, and herbs Thomasin did not recognize into a goblet.

The child parked herself beside Thomasin’s bed. “This my doll,” the child said proudly. “Her name Batty.”

“She’s very pretty,” Thomasin said. “Did your mother make her for you?”

“No. It’s present.”

“A gesture of good will from the queen,” Elaine said from the hearth. “It used to belong to one of her daughters.”

“I make her dress. See?” She shoved the poppet straight into Thomasin’s face so she could get a good look at its wrapping.

“Very pretty,” Thomasin said, carefully pushing it away. It had an odd smell to it. Lavender, Thomasin thought, and perhaps milfoil.

Elaine finished ladling hot water into the goblet of herbs and brought it to Thomasin. “You must wait a little before drinking this.”

“How long?”

“Until the water turns brown.”

Thomasin frowned. “Lovely.”

“You sick?” The child climbed onto the bed beside Thomasin. Thank God Etheldreda had already changed the bedding.

“A little.”

Mercia leaned forward like she was sharing a secret. “Is it lady sickness?”

“Mercia,” Elaine called. “Stop bothering Lady Thomasin. She has to drink her potion and prepare for the day.” She gestured at Thomasin to start drinking.

The hot, murky water smelled and tasted considerably better than Thomasin had anticipated, but she would never admit that. She made a face as she drained the cup.

Mercia took the liberty of scooching closer to Thomasin and crossed her little legs. “You got castle?” Mercia asked.

Thomasin looked to Elaine, silently willing the woman to shut her daughter up, but she was back to meddling with her herbs by the fire. “Not anymore.”

“I not have castle,” Mercia said comfortingly. “You have horses?”

“My family had some, yes.” She was without a horse of her own since her mare’s death the year before.

“Not anymore?”

“Not anymore,” Thomasin confirmed.

“I not have horse. You got –”

“Etheldreda, I think perhaps I might bathe. Could you send for a tub? The hot water unknots my muscles.” Thomasin was planning a veritable monologue – as long as she was talking, the child was not – but Mercia had already lost interest in Thomasin.

She crouched beside her mother by the fireplace and plucked dried leaves and flowers from Elaine’s many jars which she then ate.

“A note, milady,” Etheldreda said. She handed the paper over to Thomasin. Thomasin tore it open, expecting something from Henry. It was not. “Are you still ill, Lady Thomasin?” Etheldreda asked.

“It’s from Lawrence,” Thomasin said. All three women fell silent; Mercia tugged at her mother’s hand in a soundless demand for protection and an explanation. “Perhaps I am still unwell.” Thomasin settled back into the pillows.

“What does it say?” Elaine asked.

“He would like to walk with me in the gardens.”

“In Heaven’s name, why?” asked Etheldreda.

“I’m supposed to marry him.”

Mercia wasn’t totally sure what was happening, but the toddler knew how to distract everyone from their problems. Something she heard from Henry and Simon when she caught them by surprise once.

“Goddamn it!”

Thomasin shouldn’t be surprised that Lawrence expected to spend time with her, since they were, after all, engaged.

She supposed she should be pleased in some way. Or that she would be pleased if she were really going to marry him. He was handsome – or would be, if he weren’t directly compared to Henry. He was long-limbed and slim, a combination which made him look foxlike and sly. He was about Henry’s age, which put him somewhere in his early thirties, at least ten years older than Thomasin if not more.

It was a small age gap by most standards; most women wed by sixteen to men at least twice their age, often far more. Justina’s husband was nineteen or twenty years her senior.

As for Lawrence’s personality . . .

Thomasin originally imagined Lawrence to be the sort of man who took joy in chaos and death. Instead, he was reportedly the sort not to find joy in anything at all. According to Elaine, he wasn’t the angry type either. Indeed, he seemed rather disinterested in general.

The snow had started to melt, so Lawrence suggested a walk through the garden. They had no chaperone, but there were at least a dozen others walking along the paths. Etheldreda had altered Thomasin’s borrowed clothes so thankfully she didn’t get mud on the hem of her skirts.

The conversation was bland, to say the least, until Thomasin grew tired of being polite.

“I’ve heard the stories about you,” Thomasin finally said. “How you killed that baron’s wife and daughters. How you let your men rape the servants.”

Lawrence took a deep breath and shut his eyes, summoning his every ounce of patience. “My lady, that is what soldiers do in war. The reason most of these men came from Normandy in the first place was to enjoy the spoils of war. More often than not, those spoils are women.” He took another deep breath and went on walking. “I tell you truthfully, I’ve never had a girl against her will. That’s more than I can say for most of these other barons.”

“Indeed,” Thomasin said again.

“Does it surprise you to hear that most of the men here at court have raped defeated women?”

“No.” Thomasin wasn’t a fool, but she didn’t like thinking about that sort of thing. “But not all of them. Henry and his brothers haven’t. Roger hasn’t.”

Lawrence snorted. “Roger’s perversion sways him from women to men, and the Cavills are an anomaly.”

Thomasin had no idea what the first part meant but she agreed with the second.

“Henry cares for you deeply,” he said after a moment, tone perfectly conversational. “Tis a pity, that. His family are the most honorable men in Normandy if not the world, but I fear he’s a fool.”

“Why are we speaking of Henry?”

Lawrence stopped walking and raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Thomasin straightened up. “All right. What’s your point, then?”

“I’m sure the two of you will cook up some plot to overthrow me so that Henry can take my place as your intended. Frankly, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Thomasin made a face which she couldn’t hide. “Then why not just release me and let me marry him?” Her words dripped with judgment at his stupidity

“The king gave you to me, not him. He would be insulted if I gave you up for no reason. Besides, you are the sort that I want.”

“The sort,” she repeated.

“You are beautiful, self-possessed, intelligent, strong. And you speak your mind, which i think saves a great deal of time.” He shrugged. “It’s a sound match.”

Had he just complimented her? The words were kind but his tone was so detached it felt more like an insult.

Thomasin had the thought that maybe she should hold her tongue. Maybe she shouldn’t say what she wanted to. But she did “How sound was your last match?”

His ears went so red that Thomasin thought they might burst.

“There you are!” Elaine said, feigning relief. She conveniently appeared from a bend in the garden path. “I was looking for you.” She folded Thomasin’s arm into her own. “We must get you back to bed or I fear your promenade will be spoiled with sick. Do you mind terribly, Baron, if I take Lady Thomasin back to her chambers for some much-needed rest?”

“By all means,” he said - in a similarly sarcastic tone to the one Thomasin often used. “I’m due to visit your Saxon brethren in their dungeon anyway. I’ll be sure to give them your best.” He smiled and bowed. “Ladies.”

The women curtseyed and muttered farewells.

“Did you hear him?” Thomasin hissed when he was out of earshot. “He mentioned the Saxons.”

“I heard him,” Elaine said tersely.

“Shouldn’t they have been executed by now?” asked Thomasin.

“One of the men told me that William is reluctant. They’re fine warriors, supposedly. The king would rather have their loyalty than their heads.”

Thomasin sighed. “Little chance of that.”

Henry was among the best warriors under William’s command. He was without a doubt a finer warrior than Lawrence, but he was still vulnerable because he adhered to a code of honor that Lawrence did not. Lawrence’s ruthlessness and detachment made him highly effective, though, and Henry would not make the mistake of underestimating him.

There was a large stone courtyard between the castle itself and the wall William was building around it to make it into another bailey. Henry joined Roger, Charlie, and most of their men to train. Knights were expected to keep their skills sharp and were therefore expected to practice their skills, so it wasn’t strange for him to be there. No one suspected he was training for a duel, or if they did, they were quiet about it.

Henry was barely out of the castle before a little voice called his name,

“Henry!”

He turned around just in time to see Mercia, Elaine’s daughter, crash into his solid legs. He barely had time to maneuver so that she wouldn’t run smack into his scabbard.

“Ah, Mercia!” he said brightly, hoisting the girl into his arms. “You must be careful running. You could’ve gone straight into my sword and be chopped in half!”

“I careful,” she said. “I not cut in half. See?” She opened her arms as if to show him she was whole.

“And what about Batty?” Henry asked, nodding to the doll in her hand. “Is she as careful as you are?”

“Batty not a person, Henry. She not need be careful.”

“Ah, of course! That’s why she won’t talk to me!”

In fact, Batty didn’t interact with Henry because of an unfortunate incident in which Kal thought the poppet belonged to him and nearly tore it to shreds. Mercia had yet to forgive the dog. Her mother repaired the doll as best as she could, though it still bore the marks of its ordeal. Elaine was clever enough to replace some of the lost stuffing with the same herbs she used to treat people with similar wounds. It was Simon’s idea to add lavender to it to help the child relax.

“Where Simon?” Mercia asked.

Simon was Mercia’s dearest companion and she was his. He often referred to the girl as his own small angel, and sometimes asked her where her wings had gone.

Henry would’ve gladly been her playmate, ready for a footrace or a game at a moment’s notice, if his older brother had not asserted himself in that role. Simon’s special relationship with her daughter kindled Elaine’s affections for him until they mirrored his own admiration and tenderness for the healer.

Simon, like Henry, longed for the joy and companionship of a wife and family, though his desire was even greater than his brother’s.

Charlie, too, wanted a family of his own, but he would not admit such a thing aloud. He could be prickly and cold to those he disliked while charming, funny, and kind to those he did. He often made up his mind about people quite quickly, and once his opinion was formed it was difficult to change. Such was the case with Thomasin.

“Simon is still in the north, at the castle I told you about,” Henry said to the little girl. “I know he would rather be here playing with you.”

“He coming back?”

“Soon.”

She frowned. “I miss him. He my friend.”

“Am I not your friend, too?” Henry said with false sadness.

“Yeah, you my friend but you not best friend like Simon.”

Henry sighed theatrically. “I suppose I understand.” He looked around but there was no sign of Elaine, only a handful of serving women pinning wet clothes on a line. “Where’s your mother?”

“She with Lady Thomasin.”

Henry broke into a smile at the sound of her name. He always did. “You’ve met Tom?”

The child frowned again. “Who Tom?”

“It’s a name I call Thomasin.”

“Tom is name for boys. Thomasin not a boy,” she explained patiently.

“Of course, of course. Please forgive me.”

“I forgive,” she said, patting his shoulder.

Henry chuckled. “Is your mother friends with Tom? Thomasin,” he corrected.

“Yeah but they not play today. Thomasin not feel good.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Mercia motioned for Henry to bring his ear closer so she could whisper to him. “Lady sickness.” She pulled away. “Mama say not to talk about it cause it a secret. Cannot tell!”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Henry promised. He was quietly relieved to hear it was nothing serious, but he frowned over it. Was she really sick, he wondered, or had her engagement to Lawrence prompted her to withdraw from court life?

“Thomasin pretty,” Mercia said.

“Very pretty,” Henry agreed.

“I like her hair.” The little girl started wiggling, a silent signal for Henry to set her down. “She sad though cause she gotta marry Lawrence. Lawrence really scary. And it a bad thing so I say, ‘Goddamn it!’” She shouted the curse; a female servant nearby looked shocked and horrified at the sound.

“Shh!” Henry said, putting his finger to his lips. “Who said that in front of you? Where did you hear it?”

“You say it. When Kal sneaked up on you and barked. You jump and you say, ‘Goddamn it!’”

“Shh!” Henry said again. “You mustn’t say that.”

“Cause why?”

Henry didn’t have a good reason handy. “Ask Simon when he gets back.”

“Why you not tell me?” she asked, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

“Because I’m not your best friend.”

Henry went for two rounds with Roger, winning both. He then sparred with his squire, since it was his responsibility to train the boy, but he lacked the patience for it today. “Practice your footwork before next time, Jamie. It’s too easy to knock you on your arse.”

“We have an audience,” Roger murmured, nodding to a small, barred window at the base of the castle that looked in on the dungeon. A red-bearded face was just visible through the iron grate. One of the Saxon prisoners, no doubt.

“Can I be of service, sir?” Roger called out. He was courteous by nature, but he became excessively so when speaking to a handsome man – even if that man was in chains.

“Are you preparing for a fight?” the man asked.

Henry opened his mouth to tell the Saxon that it was none of his business, but Roger answered instead. “Aye.”

“What are you fighting over?”

“What do you care?” Henry said. The Saxon shrugged. “A woman,” Henry finally said.

The Saxon didn’t approve. “One woman is just as good as another. It is no great tragedy to lose one to another man. Certainly not worth dying over.”

Henry though the Saxon must not have known many women in his life if he thought they were all interchangeable. But fair number of men, Saxon and Norman alike, shared his sentiment: So long as she ran the household and gave birth to sons, a woman was a woman, and her personality was of little consequence.

“I disagree,” said Henry.

“Then she must be the kindest, most loving woman in all of Christendom if you’re willing to die for her,” the Saxon remarked.

Roger smirked. He spoke low enough that only Henry could hear when he said, “She most certainly is not.” Henry shot him a look which he pretended not to say. “What’s your name, Saxon?”

The Saxon sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes in thought but did not reply.

“I’m Baron Roger,” Roger said. “This is Henry, my brother-by-law. And you are?” he prompted when the Saxon didn’t respond.

The Saxon replied, “Cerdic.”

One of the squires came around with a note from Henry when Thomasin was readying for dinner. It told Thomasin to come to the servant’s corridor at once. She hurried to finish preparing and went straight to the meeting spot.

“Henry?” she whispered, tiptoeing through the silent hall.

“No.”

Thomasin’s hand flew to her chest in surprise; her fist closed around Henry’s ring. “Charlie,” she gasped. She took a deep breath. “You nearly frightened the life out of me.”

Charlie did not look even the least bit contrite. In fact, he looked murderous. “You can’t let Henry get himself killed for you.”

Straight into arguing, then, Thomasin thought. A gentleman of Charlie’s pedigree ought to feign civility before starting trouble, at least in the beginning of the conversation.

“Do you think I want that? That I’m happy to have Henry risk his life?” Thomasin snapped. “Do you think I haven’t tried to reason with him?”

“You must try harder.”

“I must do nothing of the sort.” Thomasin agreed with his sentiment, but the way he spoke to her made her see red. “You try to reason with him! You’re his brother.”

“I have tried,” he growled, each word as sharp as a razor. “He’s determined to kill himself for you.”

Thomasin was ready to murder Charlie. It was a long time coming. “It’s not my fault that Henry fell in love with me,” she snapped. And that was true, wasn’t it? She hadn’t encouraged his affection, at least not at first. Had she? “I can’t control what he does. Go on hating me if you like, but it won’t change anything for anyone.”

“There’s another way.” Charlie swallowed his discomfort. “If you invite him to share your–”

Thomasin shook her head. “I’ve tried that,” she said, blushing all the way to her hairline. “He won’t. He’s too damn honorable for it.”

“Well you don’t need him to now if it’s already been done,” said Charlie.

“I don’t follow.”

Charlie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I know about that night at the pond, just before you were injured.”

She shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he knew; they hadn’t exactly been subtle. But Charlie assumed too much.

Thomasin took a deep breath and ignored the feeling of blood rushing into her cheeks. “Henry and I didn’t . . .”

Charlie shut his eyes and tried to be delicate. “Madam, you were unclothed –”

“He didn’t bed me,” Thomasin said strongly. A moment later, she added, “Not quite.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell the king you are not virtuous; you’ll be released from your betrothal without getting my brother slaughtered.”

Thomasin exhaled through her nose. “I’ve considered this course of action,” she confessed. “But it seems unwise to lie to the king, especially for a Saxon. Besides, Lawrence might demand proof. They’ll know I’m lying if they examine me.”

Charlie believed his brother was too fine a man to take advantage of Thomasin, but he was a bit surprised that she was a virgin – or claimed to be, at least. She didn’t possess many virtues that he was aware of, and he hadn’t expected chastity to be one of them.

“It won’t come to that. Some of the men will attest to what they saw that night in the camp.”

Some of the men? Good Lord, how many of them had seen her and Henry together? The fact that any man had seen them meant the whole group knew what happened; gossip spread through camps like wildfire through a dry forest.

Good. Wonderful. Now she was a shrew and a whore.

Charlie was calmer now but his gaze stayed sharp. “My brother loves you. He says it and shows it all the time.”

Thomasin’s throat tightened. “I know.” There was never a doubt in her mind about it. She had the love of a good man. Not many women could say that.

“Yet I’ve never heard you say you love him. I’ve never seen you show it,” he continued. “I won’t let him die for a woman who doesn’t love him back.”

He was right.

She didn’t love him. She couldn’t.

It would betray the promise she made the night her father died never to forgive the invaders that stole her life away. That promise and the anger and pain beneath it were all Thomasin had left of her old self. She doubted she’d ever see any of her siblings again, or her home. That promise was her quiet rebellion against a change she could not fight.

She was allowed to feel tenderness for him, even affection, but she could not love him.

“You don’t know a damned thing about what I feel,” she snarled. She could hardly contain her fury; her whole body shook with the urge to lash out at Charlie and the difficulty of controlling it.

“Perhaps I don’t,” Charlie said. “But don’t allow a good man get killed for nothing.”

Thomasin’s throat was suddenly dry and tight and sore. “I won’t.”

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

another one down Helmut Zemo x reader x Bucky Barnes

+++++++++ Mostly Zemo but ends with Bucky, if you read it you'll see what I mean lol

Song: control freak by doll skin

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

The safe house was a beautiful sight to behold. It was minimalist but very lavish, something that absolutely screamed Helmut Zemo. From the colors used in the paintings on the walls to the furnishings placed ever so carefully around the large room. Even for just a safe house, not a intended, livable, home; everything seemed so meticulous and thought out.

"Do you like it?"

The baron inquired, motioning his hand for me to sit on the plush couch. I of course would be lying if I said I didn't. It was much nicer than any place I'd ever had the pleasure of staying, apart from maybe the compound but even that didn't have the same spark that this did. I couldn't help but gawk at the grand estate he'd lead us to stay in.

"It is nice, that's for sure."

I confessed, trying not boost his ego but catching the smug look on his face as he watched me sit. Another thing I'd noticed about him. Every move I made since I'd met them in Madripoor seemed to catch his eye, and then some. Not only did he carry himself with stature, he made sure he was always one step ahead, knowing you better than you knew yourself. Part of me wondered if he knew I found him attractive. The other part wanted me to stop thinking about it.

"I've seen better."

Bucky said slyly, pouring himself a drink. His whole body looked tense, angry even, like he was trying with every fiber in his being not to kill the man standing in front of me. And who knew, maybe he was.

"Sure you have."

I barely caught as Zemo mumbled under his breath. I glanced between the two of them. Bucky was staring daggers through the baron and his jaw was visibly tightening.

"What's the point of all this stuff anyways if it just sits around doing nothing?"

Buck grumbled, clearly annoyed. Similar to me Sam just sat and watched the little quarrel at hand.

"Usually it would not just be sitting around. But in case you forgot I've been a little busy elsewhere."

Zemo was stepping further and further away from me, seemingly challenging Bucky with every step he made.

"Back in my day you only needed one place to call home."

Bucky stepped closer. They were almost chest to chest.

"Back in your day-"

"This is not a pissing contest boys."

I interrupted, Sam sending me a look as I stood and walked to them. I looked between them both. Bucky was all but seething; and I'm sure it didn't help that Zemo looked as cool as ever, barely worked up or even irritated.

"I don't care what the two of you have to do to get through this but it had better happen sooner rather than later, because if I have to listen to you two bicker like an old married couple for five more minutes I am absolutely going to lose it. And I don't think any of us want that."

It came out a little more stern than I had intended but they knew exactly what I meant. My powers sort of permitted that, but of the three of them Bucky was the only one who'd ever seen it happen. Not to mention the only one who'd ever been able to come near me enough to calm me down.

"How about we all just get something to eat and go to our respective rooms for the night. Not another word nor topic need be talked about."

The suggestion didn't go unnoticed as Bucky side eyed me, looking to Sam sat at the table watching this play out in silence.

"I think that's the best idea you've had all day."

°°°°°°°°°

After dinner we were shown to different rooms upstairs. It was all just as elegant as the rest of the house but the thing I was most excited about was the large bed taking up the majority of the space I was in. The only thing that would've made it more perfect was if Bucky could manage to sneak his way in here and fall asleep in my arms like he did back home. Not that we were a thing, but we found comfort in each other, so often times he spent the night at my place. After the first couple times we realized how stupid it was to not stay in the same bed together and here recently that had become the new norm. That is until he left to take care of the Karli situation.

It didn't matter though, because we were back together again. Well, sort of. But even here I felt betrayed by my own body. Usually I thought solely about Bucky. He was my person whether I wanted to admit it or not, even if we'd never gone on a proper date or called it what it really was. But despite that, and despite myself, I was yearning. And I felt guilty about it because now I was doing something that felt worthy of guilt. I shouldn't be thinking about the baron the way I was that's for sure. God I needed to go to bed, to shower, to do anything that made me stop thinking about it. But then there was a knock at the door. My brows knitted together in confusion as I opened it, just the person I didn't want to see.

"I wanted to come make sure you were comfortable with your accommodations."

Helmut said, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood tall and stoic in front of me.

"Yes, thank you."

He nodded once, turning his body away from me like he was preparing to leave.

"Is there anything I could get for you before you turn in for the night?"

He asked and it hit me, the shame of wanting him to come in.

"Actually, would you mind showing me how the shower works, I would hate to accidently break it."

I let out a nervous laugh, one he rivaled with a toothy grin as I let him into my room.

"It would be my pleasure."

He sang, following me slowly to the bathroom. Once there he sat at the edge of the tub and looked up at me, a small smile now playing on his lips.

"You know, you seem to be a complicated little thing."

I drew my brows.

"How so?"

He shrugged, reaching over and turning the faucet on the right.

"Hot here, cold here, shower plug."

He instructed before turning it back off and standing up. I watched as he walked back out into the room and before he could leave I caught his arm.

"Wait."

I said quickly. I needed something answered.

"Please tell me what you mean. I've heard about you and I need to know why it's me that escapes you."

I confessed almost desperately.

"Of the heroes you are the one with the least information, no background, no comprised list of powers, and no track record. Apart from James' apparent desire to please you, you don't have a tether to anything or anyone. I admire that about you."

God the blood should not be rushing to the places that it is. he spoke so smoothly it was like my brain stopped working. But despite that, there was one thing that caught my attention.

"You think Bucky aims to please me?"

I asked almost embarrassed and he smirked at me.

"There are much better pleasures in this world than the ones he is offering you."

He said lowly, stepping closer and closing the gap between us. It took me a moment to realize but I'd been holding my breath as his gaze bore into my own.

"And what pleasures are those?"

It was quiet and reserved, and maybe a bit testing, though unintentional. The look he gave me following my statement told me everything I needed to know, but if I had any questions about it they were answered when he leaned down and kissed me gently. There was a pause at first, from both of us like he was waiting for me to pull away, but I didn't. When he realized that though he stepped closer, if that was even possible; one hand on my hip and the other placed gently at my jaw as he now kissed me with purpose.

Once again my brain stopped altogether and I couldn't focus on anything but him. My hands tailed slowly up his arms, one making its way into his hair and tugging lightly. The hum that escaped him made me smile before he pulled away. His eyes were darker now, a hunger behind them as he stared down at me.

"Pleasures you could never even imagine."

He recited, trailing his finger tips across my jaw. We were still in very close proximity and as I thought for a second to kiss him again it was like I was brought back to reality, pushing him away and covering my mouth with my hand.

"No."

I said, muffled, unbelieving myself and what I'd just done.

"I can't do this, not to him."

It came out a little more broken than i'd intended but then again that's kind of how it felt. He looked down, nodding once as he resumed the position I'd met him in, hands clasped behind his back.

"You have a commitment to him. I understand."

He said in a soft tone. I felt bad again but this time I couldn't quite tell why. It was like I was letting him down but he was right. I did have a commitment to Bucky, to be there for him like he was for me.

"He's the only one who understands me."

I croaked out, trying to find any other answers behind the barons eyes that I was right to feel the way I did.

"That could change."

He said matter-of-factly and suddenly the feeling in my gut changed.

"Maybe I don't want it to."

I snapped back, brows drawn in frustration that he would be so bold to suggest I pick him over Buck. I stepped to him, finger in his face as he walked backwards into the door.

"at the end of the day you'll be back behind bars. He has been nothing but amazing to me since we met, a true gentleman and a friend. That's not going to change just because you come along with your stupid fancy house and antique cars. He cares about me, and I him."

The rage behind my eyes must have told him all he needed to know after that, his hands in the air as he finally looked different than his usual cool self. I had to admit though that it was probably my powers coming through, when I got worked up or angry they had a tendency of showing up. But one thing we didn't need was me crushing him or his house into the ground. I shook the thought as I opened the door, motioning for him to leave. He stood in the doorway for a second though.

"It wouldn't matter anyway y/n, like you said, he cares about you."

When he looked to the side with a knowing glance my face dropped, watching in horror as he nodded.

"James."

He said, walking off and leaving me to my devices as Bucky came into view.

"So you don't mind that I don't have a fancy house and antique cars?"

I laughed out, a sound somewhere between angry and unbelieving, reaching for his hand and squeezing it lightly.

"Do you love me?"

I asked. There was a pause and I almost got worried, but the genuine smile that spread across his features tore that feeling away very quickly. He nodded before pulling me flush to him.

"I do."

He said and all my worries melted away. i couldnt believe id been so stupid.

"Do you?"

He asked, making me blush as I nodded back, snaking my arms around his neck.

"So frickin much."

"thats good, cause i was worried id lost you there for a second."

he confessed and i just closed my eyes, feeling him press his forehead to mine.

"you could never lose me."

i breathed against him, his lips ghosting over my own.

"promise?"

i bit my lip for only a second before crashing them into his, holding the back of his head in my hand as he held me tightly to him. when we pulled away i looked between his eyes, almost getting lost in them. i nodded slowly as he stared back down at me waiting for an answer.

"i promise."

#wattpad #x reader #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #white wolf #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon #captain america #imagines #one shots #marvel #322

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feralthoughtdump · 3 years

Text

Sign of The Times

Part One: Kiss With A Fist

Part Two: Only Angel

Part Three: Arsonist's Lullaby

Bucky and his Angel’s time in Riga is coming to an end and possibly their little fling.

CW: violence, slight angst, John Walker being rude, fluff, slight smut, nightmares, slight allusions to religion and maternal trauma, crying, Sign of The Times by Harry Styles, time jump

Word Count: 6.6k

Angel wakes up next to Bucky and her heart is filled with regret.

No, not regret over the sex, rather what happened after the sex.

You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.

Why did she say that? Why did she admit to that?

She hopes that he didn’t hear her. She hopes that he’ll forget what she said to him.

Never in her life, even after the sex that she’s had, had she ever admit to something so stupid. Something so personal.

But then again, she’s never had sex with someone like Bucky until now.

He’s made her feel something. He’s made her feel full in more ways than one.

He’s made her feel good, and never in her life, has anyone made her feel good.

Bucky stirs next to her, pulling her body close to his.

He’s warm, and his embrace makes her feel warmer.

She turns around, careful not to wake him, so she can see his face.

She can’t stop thinking about him. He had managed to crack the hard shell that was ingrained into her. He had managed to reach into her and pull out someone else. Someone she was unfamiliar with.

Someone human.

Thirteen years ago, when she would study the blurry images that were put in front of her, She would have assumed that they were cut from the same cloth. But now? As he is lying right next to her, holding her in his arms, they couldn’t be more different.

Bucky killed because he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t in control.

But her? That wasn’t the case. Violence was a part of her. It ran through her blood.

She needed it like a shark needs to swim.

As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.

She thinks about Zemo’s words and a bitter taste fills her mouth.

He’s right. She was ruled by anger and compulsion.

She knows that when this is over, she would go back to killing. She wouldn’t be able to stop no matter how hard she wanted to.

Bucky’s metal hand clasps over hers, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What are you thinking about sweet Angel?”

She quickly paints on a smile and kisses him.

“Nothing, Buck. Just admiring you.”

How could she, a monster, have pulled a man as good as him, she thinks, staring into his bright, blue eyes.

“Well, I’ll lie here and admire you too.” He smiles.

His words improve her mood, practically melting her stress away. He doesn’t mention her confession at all and it fills her with relief.

She basks in his warmth and gentle gaze until a knock on the door startles them.

“Alright lovebirds, it’s half-past ten,” Sam remarks. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Angel smiles and gives Bucky one final kiss.

“I’m going to get dressed. So get out.”

She closes the bedroom door and sits in front of the mirror, quietly dabbing concealer around her under eyes. Her tongue slightly pokes out from between her teeth as she meticulously fills in her brows. She turns her head to the side and grins.

“Pretty.” She whispers to herself.

Pretty made her feel nice. It made her feel sweet. Feeling pretty made her feel slightly less monstrous.

As she twirls in front of the mirror, she grins at her appearance. Sure, the pink puff-sleeved dress was obnoxious and the volume and ruffled hem made it slightly impractical, she thought it was lovely. A cute little number she bought the second she saw it in a store window in Paris. A reward for herself. A little ‘good job’ gift after her twenty-fifth kill.

It almost made her look angelic.

She grabs her white heeled boots and opens the door, lacing them up as she hops through the entrance.

“Nice dress.” Sam notes, peering at her outfit.

“Really?” Angel grabs a Turkish Delight from the counter and pops it into her mouth. “Thanks. I got it in Paris.” She chirps.

“You’re in such a good mood today,” Sam mutters. “Does it have anything to do with your wild night with Bucky?”

Bucky chokes on his water and coughs.

“You heard us?”

“Of course I did. You two need to learn how to control your volume.”

She walks over to the couch and sits down, the dress poofing around her.

“Bucky needs a good lay anyways.” She ties the laces of her boots into a bow. “It’s good stress relief.”

The sun casts a colorful light onto the floor and Angel admires him, bathed in reds, blues, and greens.

“Well, I saw a crepe place nearby.” She stands from the couch, balancing on her boots. “I’ll be back soon.”

…

Sam and Bucky were deep in conversation when she walks through the door, a bag of crepes in tow.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky says.

“You don’t say.” Sam replies.

“Well, I know a crazy one when I see one.” Bucky looks down at his plate. “Because I am crazy.”

“Oh hush.” Angel giggles, passing him a box of crepes. “You’re a little rough around the edges but that doesn’t mean you’re crazy.”

Zemo chuckles and leans against the dresser, a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“You’re an assassin who kills with no hesitation”

“Baron, just because I kill with no hesitation doesn’t mean I’m crazy.” She laughs, placing another box in front of him. “I’m able to stay cool and calculated and need I remind you, it’s my job.”

She walks past Sam and hands him a box. He mutters a quick ‘thank you’ and shuts his laptop closed.

The four of them have a long-overdue debrief of the events that happened the day before. They go over what went wrong, and what went right.

When the conversation shifts to the serum, the mood changes.

“Hypothetically, if you were offered it,” Zemo asks Sam, “Would you have taken it?”

“No.” Sam says.

“No hesitation,” Zemo notes. “Impressive.” He turns to Angel. “What about you?”

“No.” She sets her fork down. “I don’t like the idea of becoming, you know, more of myself.”

“What do you mean by that?” Bucky questions.

Her mood is quickly soured when John Walker kicks his way through the door.

“Alright.” He commands. “That’s it. I’m ordering for you to turn him (Zemo) over.”

“Here we go again.” She mutters, standing up to pour herself a tumbler of whiskey.

“Hey,” Sam stands up. “Slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re running is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful yesterday. And we need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

“And what exactly has Princess Peach over there done to help?” John scoffs. “How does strutting around Latvia in her little outfits and playing with knives help?”

“Hey!” Angel snaps. “Shut your mouth. At least I have more than one outfit to wear while sauntering around Europe.”

John speeds over to her and raises his hand, but she catches his wrist.

“Ooh,” she chastises. “Hitting women, huh? Not very Captain America of you.”

Bucky stands from his seat and crosses his arms.

“Don’t you dare touch her, Walker.” He seethes.

“I can hold my own, Buck.” She narrows her eyes. “Step away John, or I’ll break your fucking wrist.”

“Listen here, John.” Sam walks over to him as John pulls his arm from Angel’s grip. “She’s been helpful this entire time, keeping an eye on Zemo, helping us track down Karli, and defending us when our lives were put at risk. Yet, you’ve been nothing but hostile to her. If you want us to work as a team, I expect you to at least show her some decency.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to push away her anger. All she wanted was to punch him in the face, maybe stab him in the neck, but she knows she shouldn’t. At least not when Bucky and Sam are around.

“Thanks, Sam.” She mumbles.

“If a fight is what you want, why don’t I put down the shield huh?” John fumes. “Make this fair.”

As the shield touches the ground, a spear whizzes past Angel, the momentum fluffing the edge of her dress.

She turns around to see a woman clad in red.

The Dora Miaje. She’s heard the stories about them. The female warriors of Wakanda who had fought the titans after the blip.

Angel had always been one to prepare for any outcome, but this? She wasn’t expecting this. Not that she didn’t mind.

Her head whips around as two more walks past the doors, brandishing spears.

One speaks in Wakandan, and Bucky looks down in shame.

She may not understand her, but she knows that they were not happy with him.

“Release him to us now.” The woman demands.

“Bucky?” Angel turns to look at him. “What did you do?”

He doesn’t answer her, he only looks at the table, avoiding her eyes.

She sighs and takes a sip of whisky, scowling at the taste.

“Hi. John Walker.”

Angel quirks a brow as he walks up to the Dora Milaje, holding out a hand. He receives no handshake nor a verbal reply.

“Well, uh,” John holds out his arms. “Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

“Hey, John, take it easy,” Sam says, a frustrated smile on his face. “You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

John rolls his eyes.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.”

Angel internally winces. She may not have expected this, but she knows this won’t end well.

“The Dora Milaje had jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.”

“Okay.” John scoffs. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“John,” Angel warns. “You really should shut up right now.”

Her warning falls on deaf ears as he places his hand on the woman’s armor.

Within the blink of an eye, a fight ensues.

She observes from afar, deciding it was best that she doesn’t involve herself.

Her drink is placed on the counter as she walks over to Sam and Bucky.

She stands back with an amused look while John faces off with the Dora Milaje.

Sounds of clanging metal and fighting echo throughout the room.

“Do I have your permission to join them? Any excuse to fight Walker is a good excuse.”

She whispers to Bucky.

“Best you stay out of it and enjoy the show.” He whispers back.

Sam turns to them.

“We should do something.”

“Looking strong, John” Bucky yells over the fighting and Angel claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

“Bucky.” Sam scolds.

In the corner of her eye, she spots Zemo reaching for his coat.

He’s making a run for it. And she’s not letting him get away.

Before the doors of the bathroom close, she wedges her foot in between them.

“You’re not going anywhere.” She glares at him.

Zemo sighs.

“I really liked you. So please don’t take this personally.”

He pulls her through the doors as they close and slams her head against the edge of the tub.

She tenderly touches her forehead and winces.

“You son of a bitch.”

“I need to visit my home.” He says as dark spots form in her vision. “Just one last time. I hope you understand.”

All she can do is lie there, head on the tile, as her vision fades to black.

…

She wakes up with a concerned Bucky hovering over her.

“Oh, doll,” He murmurs, brushing his fingers over the developing bruise on her forehead. “I shouldn’t have strung you along.”

“It’s okay, Bucky.” She murmurs, pain rushing through her head.

“Now I’ve dragged you into this… this mess-”

“Hey, hey.” She sits up and cradles his face in her hands. “If I didn’t want to be here, I would’ve gone back to Amsterdam right after what happened in Madripoor.” He looks down, refusing to meet her eyes. “Bucky,” She lifts his chin with her finger. “Look at me. I’m here on my own accord. I want to be here. With you.”

Sam walks over to them and hands her a wrapped ice pack.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, yeah.” She accepts it and places the cool towel against her head. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

“For a few hours,” Sam answers her. “You hit your head really hard.”

“What’s next, what else do you need me to do?”

“No,” Sam shakes his head. “You aren’t going anywhere. You need to rest.”

“I’m fine.” she stands but Bucky places an arm on her shoulder, pushing her back onto the bed. “Guys, I let Zemo get away, I need to-”

“Hey,” Sam crouches down next to her. “I meant what I said, about you being helpful. And Zemo getting away isn’t your fault. Stay here and rest. I just don’t want you to be putting yourself in danger.”

“He’s right.” Bucky agrees. “You need to take care of yourself, doll.”

“I can handle it.” She struggles against Bucky’s hold on her. “I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Hey,” Sam places his hand gently on her forearm. “We don’t know if you had a concussion, but concussion or no concussion, we’re not letting you endanger yourself.”

She lies back down on the bed and shuts her eyes, giving in.

“Fine. Just don’t get hurt.”

…

She lies there for what feels like hours, staring at the ceiling, reading her book, drawing in her sketchbook. But when she turns to the clock, it’s only been twenty minutes

She’s bored. And nothing good comes out of being bored.

You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.

God, why did she say that?

Why was she feeling this way?

Despite their hostile reunion

An angel? Sure. But not the angel Bucky thinks she is.

She wasn’t like the beautiful angels hanging in the Louvre. Ones who brought peace and lights. She was the angel the world had painted her to be. One of death, rage, and destruction.

How could he ever see her as an angel? How could he show her this gentle, tender love that no one else has?

Does he love her?

Does she love him?

“Love.” She mutters to herself. “Such a funny word.”

She doesn’t even know what love is. How could she know what Bucky has been showing her is love? The gentle touches, calling her Angel, holding her close when they fall asleep. That was love, right?

Deciding that her thoughts have gone too far, she reaches into her bag to find an orange bottle of sleeping pills. She changes out of her dress and reaches for Bucky’s dark red henley that was bunched up on the floor.

Her nose buries into the fabric as she inhales his woodsy smell.

With a sigh, she pulls it over her head and walks to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

Her fingers roll the pale pink pill between her fingers. Deciding whether or not sleep was worth it.

Finally, she just decides to take the pill, swallowing it dry and a grimace crosses her face at the bitter taste.

She lies down, covered in Bucky’s smell, and closes her eyes.

…

Angel doesn’t know where she is.

Well, she does. The house is still the same, only this time, it was up in flames.

Screams echo around her.

“Look at what you’ve done!” They tell her, voices distorted.

“Monster!”

“Devil!”

“Evil!”

She turns around to face a woman in a black dress, her face obscured by a matching veil.

“Oh, my dear.” She says, voice croaking and broken. “Why didn’t you save me? Why did you leave me there to die?”

“I-” Angel stammers. “I’m sorry.”

The woman sinks to the ground and Angel runs after her, crouching down to see where she went.

When she stands, she sees that she’s surrounded by broken mirrors.

No matter where she looked, she was faced with her distorted reflection.

“Look at yourself!” The voices return. “Look at what you are!”

“No!” She screams back. “No! No! No!”

A force knocks her onto her knees and she sees that the floor has turned into a mirror as well.

The fire burns her, making her skin peel.

She claws at her face, trying to peel the reddening skin away and she scrambles back when it reveals the cracked gray skin.

“This is who you are!” They scream.

“Stop!” She sobs. “Shut up!”

Angel looks down at her hands, fingernails growing into long black claws. When she looks up, she screams at her appearance.

Her soft, glowing skin and peeled away to reveal a pale, ghostly face. Her eyes, once bright, are now pools of black.

“You’re a monster!” A different voice booms throughout the room.

“Mama?” She whimpers. “Mama, is that you?”

“You were always the bad seed. You were always filled with darkness. Evil.”

“No Mama!” She cries. “Mama, please! I’m sorry!”

The mirrored floor cracks around her.

“I never wanted you! I should’ve killed you the second you came out of me!”

Angel scrambles around the mirrored room, avoidant the cracks around her feet.

"And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea,”

“Stop!” Angel covers her ears.

But her mother’s voice is louder “having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy."

“Angel?”

“Please stop!” She begs her mother.

“Angel! Wake up!”

“Angel!”

She screams, batting her arms, trying to push anyone and anything out of her path.

“Get away from me!” Her voice is hoarse from screaming. “I’ll only hurt you.”

“Angel,” Bucky places his metal hand against her heated skin. “Angel, you’re okay, you’re safe. You aren’t going to hurt anyone.”

Tears stream down her face as she meets Bucky’s gentle, blue eyes.

“Bucky?” She shakily whispers.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Bucky.” He gently rubs at her cheek with his thumb. “You were having a nightmare.”

She reaches out with a shaky hand and places it against Bucky’s cheek, rubbing at his stubble.

She needed to know he was actually there. She needed to know that he was real.

As her sleep-clouded vision clears, she sees the bruises and cuts on Bucky’s face and she starts crying again.

“Oh, Bucky,” She pulls her hand away. “Did I do this to you?”

“No, no you didn’t, doll.” He gently smiles at her and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Then who did this to you?” She whispers.

“Sam and I had to get the shield back. John decided to get a little scrappy but I’ll be okay.” He moves her sweaty hair out of her face. “I have enhanced healing, remember?”

Angel gives him a shaky nod and burrows her face into his chest.

A loud sob leaves her lips as she shakes in his arms.

“Oh doll,” he coos at her, reaching his flesh hand under her (well his) shirt and tracing his fingers up and down her back. “Shh. It’s okay, honey. You’ll be okay.”

When her sobs subside and she’s left a shaking form in his arms, Bucky presses a kiss on the top of her head.

She looks up and sees Sam peaking at them from over his shoulder.

He’s got a look of sympathy in his eyes.

“Nightmare?” He asks.

Her throat hurts too much to speak so Bucky answers for her.

“Mhm.”

Sam walks over to them and places a glass of water on the nightstand.

He takes a seat next to them and places a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Angel shakes her head. Talking wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to burden them further.

“Sam?” She quietly asks. “Can I have a hug?”

“Of course.”

Sam wraps his arm tightly around the both of them and rubs Angel’s back.

“I don’t know what you’re dealing with, and I don’t know what you’ve gone through, but I just want to let you know that it’s okay to feel weak.”

He gives Bucky a gentle look.

“I’m, uh, I’m headed back to Louisiana in a few hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Sam gives Bucky a soft pat on the back and turns to Angel.

“And if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. So is Bucky.”

When Sam leaves, the crying returns. She’s much too tired to sob, but silent tears stream down her face, wetting Bucky’s soft t-shirt.

“Come on, doll. Let’s sleep.”

She vehemently shakes her head. Not wanting the nightmares to return.

“No, no.” Her breathing quickens. “I- I don’t want to. I’m scared.”

“Okay, okay.” He strokes her back. “Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

They sit in silence, holding onto each other. She feels vulnerable, weak, and tired. Oh, so tired. All the years of building up her walls, pushing people away, destroying anything good in her path, had finally caught up to her.

She wants to strip her skin away and emerge as a new person. She wants to open up her body. Take out all of the ugly, the evil, the darkness, and stitch herself back up. She wants to destroy herself.

And maybe, after she pays the price in her own blood, she can finally be good.

This world wasn’t made for her, she thinks, and though she gave up on faith a long time ago, she thinks that after all the things she’s done, she’ll never end up in heaven.

And having Bucky here? Having him hold her, and caress her, and call her his Angel?

That was the closest to heaven that she’ll ever get.

Bucky pulls her back to reality when he lifts her chin up.

“I have an idea.” He smiles. “Now, I haven’t done this since 1943, but why don’t we dance?” He helps her stand up and brushes her hair back.

Angel looks away from him bashfully.

“I- I don’t really know how to dance.”

“Here.” He hands her his phone, Spotify open on his screen. “You pick the music and I’ll show you how. It’s really easy.”

“Should it be a 40s song?” She mumbles.

“No.” He smiles and shakes his head. “It can be any song that you like. I just wanna make you feel better, doll.”

She quietly browses through his song library and then, turns to the search bar.

“Here you go,” she hands it back to him. “I think you’ll like this one.”

“Sign of the Times.” He chuckles. “Can you dance to it?”

She shrugs.

“I hope so.”

Bucky places his hands on her waist and pulls her close to him.

“Okay, Angel, so I’m just going to hold your right hand like this.” He intertwined his right hand with hers and raised it to his shoulder. “And your left hand goes on my life shoulder.”

As she places her left hand against the metal of his shoulder, Bucky keeps his left hand on her waist.

“Now what?” She quietly asks.

“Now, we just sway.”

He quickly unlinks their fingers to press play on the song.

As the sounds of a piano fill the room, Bucky starts swaying and Angel follows along.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times

Welcome to the final show

Hope you're wearing your best clothes

“You were right, I do like this song.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky

You look pretty good down here

But you ain't really good

If we never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

Angel closes her eyes and allows herself to rest her head on his chest. Even with the music playing, she can hear the quiet thumping of his heart. It calms her. She relaxes her shoulders and smiles, humming along to the song. Bucky holds her tighter as the chorus approaches.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times

We gotta get away from here

Just stop your crying

It'll be alright

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here

Just stop your crying

Have the time of your life

Breaking through the atmosphere

And things are pretty good from here

Remember everything will be alright

We can meet again somewhere

Somewhere far away from here

Peace. She feels at peace in Bucky’s arms. He is her sanctuary and she hopes that she can be his.

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

She hopes that this won’t be temporary. She hopes that this moment can last forever, being held by him.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times

We gotta get away from here

Stop your crying

Baby, it'll be alright

But even though she can hope, she knows it won’t last forever. Bucky, this man, this man who is filled with good, even with all he’s been through, never let that good fade away. He will see her for who she truly is, how she was never good. He will see how she was born with darkness and he will see how the darkness overtook her.

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

We don't talk enough

We should open up

Before it's all too much

Will we ever learn?

We've been here before

It's just what we know

“I’m…” Her voice wobbles. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster.” He places a kiss on the top of her head. “You were never a monster.”

Stop your crying, baby

It's a sign of the times

We gotta get away

We got to get away

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Bucky.”

“So have I.”

We got to get away

“But you didn’t have a choice. I did.”

We got to, we got to, away

The music comes to an end and Angel pulls Bucky over to the bed.

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after you stop?” He asks her. “You know, when you retire, I guess.”

She sighs.

“I’m not sure. I have enough money to live a quiet life in Paris. That’s the closest I have to a retirement plan.”

“When will that be?”

Angel lies down.

“I’m not sure.”

Bucky braces his arms around her head.

“We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“Okay.” She pulls him in for a heated kiss. “But first, I want to feel you.”

Her hands cradle his face and she kisses every cut and bruise on his face.

“My sweet Angel. You’re too kind to me.”

He litters kisses down her neck, onto her collarbones, down her sternum, and onto her scar.

“So beautiful. So, so beautiful.” He murmurs.

Angel cards her hands through his soft hair as he rests his head on her lower stomach.

She giggles when he nuzzles at her tummy.

“Tickles.”

“Can’t help it. You look so pretty in my shirt. I just want to make you feel pretty.”

He places his fingers along the waistband of her panties.

“Can I?”

“Mhm”

As he pulls them down her legs and kisses along her thighs, she reaches out with her free hand and links her flesh fingers with his metal ones.

He’s gentle with her this time.

She can’t speak, only gasping his name. She arches her back and pushes her hips closer to him, silently begging for more.

Instead of teasing her, he gives her what she wants. Never forced her to beg.

He handles her delicately like she’s made of glass.

He calls her sweet names, doll Angel, honey, as he licks into her. Her moans are soft and sweet.

He coaxes an orgasm after orgasm out of her and she lays back, relishing in the pleasure, in the love he gives her.

It feels like heaven.

He feels like heaven.

And when he unbuckles his belt and pushes inside of her, he is still gentle, slowly rocking himself back and forth.

Though she’s still sore from the night before, the pain never overpowers the pleasure.

She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, silently telling him that he is hers and much as she is his.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He groans into her neck. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you too.” She pants. “You make me feel human. You’re the only one who’s made me feel human, Bucky.” This time, she wants him to hear her. She wants him to know.

The skin on skin contact, feeling his body pressed against hers, it’s all everything she’s ever wanted. It’s everything she’s ever needed.

“You’re mine.” He rocks his hips faster. “You're my Angel. Say it to me.”

“I’m yours. I’m your Angel.”

She doesn’t think she can cum one more time, but she does. Walls clenching around him, making him gasp with pleasure.

“I’m…” he murmurs against her lips. “I’m gonna cum.”

She presses her lips against his.

“Come on, cum for me, my love.”

…

Bucky quickly fell asleep. Tired from the fighting and tired from the fucking.

Angel spends the rest of the night caressing his face and playing with his fingers.

They spent only a few days together but she’s been able to fall for him in this short time.

Though she doesn’t know what love feels like, she thinks she loves him.

Being with him, it’s changed her.

She knows that she’ll eventually have to leave, go back to Amsterdam. He’ll go back to New York.

They will be apart again for who knows how long.

But she doesn’t want that to happen so now, all she can do is live in the moment, and pretend that they can live in this moment forever.

“I love you.” She whispers. “I love you, James Bucky Barnes.

…

On the drive to the Sokovia memorial, they’re quiet. But it’s a comfortable silence. They listen to Bucky’s 40s music and admire the scenery.

She’s decided that she doesn’t want to kill anymore. At least not kill as much.

She’ll settle down somewhere. Somewhere on her own. In her fantasies, it would be with Bucky, but realistically, she thinks, it’s best that she’s on her own.

“I’ve been thinking, when this is over, we’ll go back to Amsterdam.” He says, breaking the silence “You can pack all of your things and you can stay with me. In Brooklyn.”

Her heart stops. He wants to go home. He wants to go home and take her with him.

“I’ve never been to New York.” She says over the sound of Dream A Little Dream of Me.

“I’ll show you around.” He turns to look at her. “We can start a new life together. I- I know someone you can talk to. Someone who can help you work through whatever you’ve been through.”

It’s too good to be true. Yet every part of her urges her to accept his offer.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, and you don’t have to come back with me immediately, but know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

She sighs.

“Bucky, you have so much in you. You have all this love, this kindness, this goodness. I don’t want to be the person that ruins it all for you.”

He pulls the car over.

“Sweet Angel,” he caresses her face. “You could never do that. You-“ he looks down and takes her hand. “I believe that you have the same good inside of you. You just don’t know it yet.”

She looks away at him, eyes finding the memorial in the distance. Maybe he’s right. Maybe she does have that goodness inside of her. She just needs time to find it.

“You sound so sure of yourself.”

“I am sure. Yes, you actively chose to kill, but the people you killed? They aren’t good people. They’re people who had no qualms about harming others to get their way. Do I agree with killing them? No, but you did what you thought was right.”

She shakes her head.

“It’s not the fact I kill people for money that makes me a bad person, Bucky. It’s what I did that got me that job.”

“So what did you do then?”

Angel gulps, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I don’t remember much because I was a kid. I… I don’t really like talking about it.”

“Hey,” He tilts her head towards him. “Look at me.”

She averts her gaze, shame bubbling inside of her.

“Angel,” Bucky’s tone is more authoritative now. “I need you to look at me.” She finally allows her eyes to meet his. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright. There are things I’ve done that I don’t want to talk about either.”

Angel nudges her cheek deeper into his hand, wanting to feel more of the contact.

“I want to believe that I’m good, and I want to believe that I won’t hurt you.” She bites her lip, no longer wanting to discuss the subject. “We can talk about this later. Right now, I think you have some unfinished business.

…

Angel went back to Amsterdam alone.

The two had gone to the airport together, bags packed, and hand in hand, but after Bucky had gone to buy a cup of coffee, she disappeared.

She didn’t leave him empty-handed. She went to the airport toy store and bought a small brown bear. When the stomach was pressed, Bucky could hear her voice say “I’ll come back to you. I promise. Love, your Angel.”

He had found it in his duffel bag along with a small bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and a note written on a napkin.

I hope you won’t be mad that I left you, but if you are, I understand.

I need to figure things out, tie up some loose strings before I find a lasting home. Maybe a lasting home in New York.

But I promise you, I’ll see you again. And I never break my promises.

I hope you’ll wait for me.

I love you, Bucky

He felt his heart shatter, but he understood. She needed time.

So he went home, back to his Brooklyn apartment. And he waited.

When he woke up, he waited.

When he’d listen to the voice in the bear, he waited.

When he’d go get lunch with Yori, he waited.

When he went to Louisiana to help Sam with the boat, he waited.

“Did you find your Angel?” Sam had asked him, looking out into the sunset.

“Not yet.” Bucky had replied.

Even after the events in Lower Manhattan, he still waited.

For days on end, he waited. Constantly checking his phone, calling Sharon, scouring through European newspapers, looking for any sign of her.

But he found nothing.

He wanted to give up, but a small part of him knew that Angel would come back. He could feel it deep within him.

She made him a promise.

Five Months Later

Angel stares at the red water rush down the shower drain, the metallic stench of blood permeating throughout the bathroom.

There was so much of it, not even her body wash could cover the smell.

She had said ‘one last kill’ three days after she stepped foot back in Amsterdam. And then she had said it again three kills later.

And now that her body count had reached a perfect two fifty, maybe this would be her last kill.

Two fifty was a good number, she thinks as she pulls Bucky’s red henley over her head. A good number to stop at.

The buzzing of her phone turns her attention away from the soft fabric.

She picks it up, brow furrowing at the ‘unknown number’.

Cautiously, she answers.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me, Sharon.”

Angel stands.

“Sharon? How did you get my number?”

“I was a hustler in Madripoor. I have my ways. Don’t worry though, I’m using a burner phone.”

“Why are you calling me?”

There’s the sound of a refrigerator opening and closing from Sharon’s end of the line.

“I just want to let you know I’ve been pardoned.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“And I’m back in the CIA.”

“Congratulations.” Angel’s voice is tinged with sarcasm. “Now you’ve got an entire database of American government secrets at your disposal. Have fun with that.”

Sharon laughs.

“You know me too well. Which is surprising considering that we spent less than twenty-four hours together.”

“Well, knowing how to read people is a part of being an assasin.”

There’s a sigh on the other line.

“I don’t want you to panic, but there’s word that MI6 reopened your case.”

Angel closes her eyes and pulls the top of Bucky’s henley over her nose. In the beginning, when she had left him at the airport, she had taken the shirt with her. After a really bad job, or when she needed to feel okay, she'd bury her nose into the fabric and inhale, clinging onto the only piece of him she had with her.

But his smell had started to fade away and it filled her with sadness.

“So you’re telling me that they’ll come for me.”

“I doubt they’ll find you. After our talk in Madripoor, I managed to erase almost all of their progress. Still, I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

Silence fell in between them.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Maybe it was time. Time to put her weapons down, pack her bags, and start over.

She thinks about Bucky’s offer. How he said that he would be waiting for her in Brooklyn. Maybe he’d still be waiting for her. Plus, she had made him a promise. She never broke her promises.

“I think it’s time to retire.”

...

Bucky had come home from late-night grocery shopping when he could smell the unmistakable scent of apple cinnamon body wash.

It could’ve been him. He found himself using it regularly. But this time, the smell was stronger. Sweeter.

He opens the door to his dark apartment, the only light coming from the city lights peeking through the curtains.

He quietly sets his bags down and turns on the lights. There, sitting on his kitchen counter is a cake box.

The fancy gold script indicated it was from one of the expensive bakeries in Midtown.

He hesitantly approaches it and gently opens it, revealing a fancy white cake covered in delicate piping and rosettes.

In the center, iced in simple pink script were the words ‘Miss Me?’

She’s here. She kept her promise.

The sound of his front door closing made him jump.

He whips around to see Angel. His sweet angel, wearing the same pink dress from their last day in Latvia, leaning against the door, arms crossed, and a wide smile on her face.

“Hey, Bucky.” She chuckles. “Thanks for waiting.”

...

Once again, a huge thank you to @sojournmichael for being my beta read, check out her writing, it’s amazing <3

#bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws

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ellestra · 3 years

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Just cause is not enough

The Madripoor at night was basically Ghost in the Shell/Blade Runner/every cyberpunk story from the last several decades back on screen. The colours, the clothes, even the rain. But I did get a kick of that lighted up face mask.

It’s pretty clear Sharon didn’t tell them the whole truth. Her finding them seemed to convenient. Her whole new life completely unlike the character we saw before.

And sure she didn’t get much character development. And it’s been years since her story was dropped. She wasn’t on the run with Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. It looks like she was out of contact all that time. She could’ve changed. Maybe, she came she came to Madripoor long before she was Snapped and it changed her. And sure, when she came back and it turned out Steve was gone before she found her bearing so he couldn’t push for her rehabilitation as everyone who fought Thanos got it soured her even more. The one who believed so much in Captain America turned cynic about all what he represented. She almost like Zemo in her disdain.

But it doesn’t seem like she tried to contact anyone else really. I’m sure someone with her money and skills could’ve contacted her family. Add to that her complete turn and it all just felt wrong. I just couldn’t buy this is all Sharon is now - stolen art dealer who doesn’t care. And that last moment made me even more convinced me think she is working undercover there trying to find out who Power Broker is. Probably using Bucky and Sam and Zemo’s created carnage to flush him out.

As Karli says he has to react now that Flag Smashers have the only serum left.

It didn’t take long for the new Captain America to start representing all the wrong sides of American “help”. Walking justification of all the doubts everyone has voiced about - especially one so nationalistically themed as this one. But he isn’t stupid. He knows Bucky and Sam freed Zemo. Well, Bucky did but Sam went with it.

And then Walker decides to go off book to get them. Like a “fuck you” to them for saying he can’t. But it hits so differently when he does it, doesn’t it? It hits differently when someone in power doesn’t follow the rules. When all the abuses of that power they do to get results can be just swiped under the rug.

I knew they would need to break Zemo out when his name was mentioned but I didn’t expect that Bucky came in knowing it too. And that he already put the plan in motion even before he set up the visit. But for all the jokes about Sam not knowing enough about how the Madripoor or the big time criminal underworld functions or even that Zemo was rich and a baron he wasn’t wrong about Wakandans not being happy about Zemo being free. Of course, Bucky was prepared for that too.

And I bet that it’s one of the reason’s Zemo didn’t ditch them - either after escape or later. Sure, they do have the same goal of finding out the super serum and stopping it but Bucky is also only one who can keep Dora Milaje at bay. Still, the other reason is probably planning to kill Bucky too. It’s his whole thing. How they didn’t see he would kill that scientist when they know this is the reason he came along is beyond me. I only wondered how he would do it.

At first I even suspected he was behind the one who shot Selby. And the show makes sure we don’t get to comfortable with him helping. There is certain tendency for people to overlook the bad parts for cool villains that are being useful. The whole Loki-like arc that glosses over the victims and the dead (so for Loki it added mind control too for justification but we all know most viewers didn’t even think of that when they forgave him). For Zemo shows keeps throwing his privilege in our faces, it has him constantly torture James with his past as Winter Soldier and it reminds us of all he did - like killing king T’Chaka.

And yet even the bad guys’ grievances can be real. They can be a real issues that one has right to be angry about. The Avengers are responsible for destruction of Sokovia. And not just the whole Ultron thing. The changing borders from that GRC adds apparently include Sokovia being partitioned and disappearing from map. As person whose country went through that I can feel his anger - that feeling of injustice, of being wronged, of feeling like you lost everything - and it’s made even worse that the people seem to neither care or notice.

It’s why he is being listed as one of the few villains MCU got right. His motives were clear and understandable. It was his methods that made him a villain. And we are seeing this repeated in Karli.

That shiny add of bright future of post-Blip utopia by GRC followed by the dark reality of the raid was so heavy handed as it was effective. It’s hard not to feel for the Flag Smasher cause when you see the raids GRC sponsors when someone opposes them. With their own branded police. With their unused stores of food and medicine when people died from lack of resources in refugee camps.

It’s not only the returned who have no place any more. Many of those who lived were kicked out of their houses when the people who used to own them came back. Hulk bringing back half of the world’s people made them loose everything. And no one seemed to cared. And there wasn’t much they could do about it. Until they got some super powers of their own.

But like with Zemo the moment Karli went from well intentioned extremist and folk hero to the villain of this story was the methods. When you lose so much and “them” seem to neither notice or care the need to make them suffer as much as you do to understand can lead to dark places. For Karli it was moving from stealing to murder. The hope for her not going bad blew up with that building and people in it.

And this is why Sam needs to be Captain America. Yes, we see all the ways such symbols can go wrong in Walker and all the mistakes that Avengers (especially Tony made) and all that Sharon mentions. But symbols do matter even if what they represent is flawed. They matter because they can represent a better version of that thing. They can remind us to try to achieve that better version.

And people who represent those symbols matter. Especially when you can feel they can understand that hopeless feeling of being wronged and ignored. They can show you someone gets it and will stand up for you. Someone who can show you the way to the goal and never tire of fighting for it all the while being able to avoid the temptation, we all get, of just going for revenge of it. Steve was great at personifying that but he was the WWII era personification. I like how the show is trying to show Sam he can be that for the modern MCU. And maybe for us too. At least a little.

#the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #sharon carter #karli morgenthau #john walker #grc #falcon #winter soldier #baron zemo #captain america #mcu #tfatws #flag smashers #sokovia #madripoor #power broker #dora milaje

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theprincesslibrary · 3 years

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#26: Quid pro quo

She had a plan. A good plan, flawed of course, but a good plan nonetheless. She would march into the Azure dragon’s lair, offer him a deal he could not refuse, and spend the rest of her days in relative peace. She would not be burned alive, nor have her body desecrated postmortem. It was a good plan, albeit a bit of a crazy one.

She had carefully designed said plan for months, spent countless hours with her nose buried deep in obscure literature, practically harassed the head of the royal guard into telling her every tiny detail of his encounter with the sand dragons - the man used to boast about his tale of glory, now he couldn’t bear to utter the word dragon - but for all her effort she still wasn’t ready for the Azure dragon himself. There were a few key elements about the beast which were not accounted for in those dusty grimoires: for one, he was a man rather than a scaled monster; and two… he was incredibly handsome. He had ordered her to sit opposite him, and she had since spent a stupid amount of time staring at his face, which wasn’t all that smart considering her current predicaments. Yet, one could hardly blame her; she had been expecting a blue lizard - a giant lizard, with wings, and teeth, and claws - and she was now sitting in front of the most gorgeous man she had ever met. Nothing during her months of research had prepared her for the day's events, and she was a bit lost and quite unsure of how to proceed.

*****

When she had walked past the entrance on the north side of the snowy mountain, she had expected a cave or an abandoned mine; a place dark and humid, where the air would be stale, almost putrid. There would be spiderwebs on the walls and maybe a few rotting corpses lying in the shadows of a dusty corner. The place would be grim, quiet - save for the few drip drops of a leaking roof - and extremely scary. But the halls she was wandering in looked nothing like old collapsing tunnels. There were sculpted columns where she expected old support beams, and vast rooms with smooth walls instead of rough rock and loose stone. It looked more like an underground palace than it did the belly of a mountain, and she couldn’t help but be a little bit in awe of the craftsmanship required to achieve such a feat. Her father’s castle could never compare to the dragon’s lair, nothing could.

As she made her way from room to room, she found no pile of gold or shiny jewels, not that she hoped to find any, she had specifically chosen the Azure dragon for its peculiar taste in treasure. She had however expected a few rotten corpses, maybe some dead knights, or discarded armors, but again she was pleasantly surprised: not a dead body in sight. Just books, shelves after shelves for as far as the eye could see. They occupied every surface of the place: wooden tables covered in parchments, rare volumes piled up on the floor. Some piles were so high, she had to crane her neck up to see the top and almost lost her balance more times than she’d admit to. Some books were torn or half-eaten by mice, soot-stained or with missing their spines, others were brand new and carefully ordered by author and date. And everywhere the dry scent of paper mixed with the faintest bit of charcoal, a good indication that she was in the right place. Which might sound confusing to some: what kind of princess would willingly seek out a dragon? But she was desperate, and desperate times called from desperate measures. Crazy measures, some might even say.

Now that she was deep into the beast’s lair, she was faced with two issues. One, for all her planning, she hadn’t come up with a solution to prevent the dragon from killing her without hearing her plea. She had a proposition for the creature, one that required some explaining, and she could hardly do so once reduced to a fuming pile of ashes. She had thought she’d come up with something eventually, but as her twenty-first birthday grew closer things accelerated, and now she was here, with no idea how to speak with such a being. Maybe she should send words in advance? Did Dragons get mail? And If so, who would be brave enough to deliver such correspondence? There wasn't any protocol on how to converse with a dragon. She was taught how to politely greet foreign emissaries, but somehow her etiquette lesson didn’t cover “how to greet a mighty dragon without being toasted”. Clearly a gap in her royal education. Most people - knights in search of gold and glory - marched into a dragon’s lair with two goals in mind: kill the beast and steal its treasure. They either succeeded or died, adding to the long list of nameless fools no one remembered. There was hardly any tale of them having a civil conversation with the beast.

And either way, if she knew how to politely engage the Azure dragon, she would first need to find him. One would think a creature this size would be easy to spot, but so far she only passed by empty rooms (saves for the mountains of books) and deserted halls. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think the place to be abandoned.

As she continued her discovery of the underground palace, she stepped inside a dimly lit room, more vast than the rest, that looked like a library. There had been books in every room she visited so far, but this one looked like it was meant to hold paper and manuscript. It was dark, save for the few candles and the fire roaring in the hearth.

“Excuse me.” She called out to the shadows, not expecting an answer. She had been doing so in every room, and only got an eerie silence as a reply. So when the shadows moved in a corner of the room, she nearly jumped out of her skin. The shadow was in fact a man sitting in a chair with a heavy book in his hands. Her heart was in her throat, and it took her a few minutes to regain her composure.

“Forgive my intrusion,” she started, “I'm looking for the Azure dragon.”

The man barely lifted his eyes from the books to give her the most unimpressed look. He was handsome, almost painfully so: silver-white hair, high cheekbones, a jawline that could cut through glass. But his most striking features were his eyes: icy blue, pupils slit in the middle. And then everything clicked: the hair, the pointed ears, the haughty look...

“You're one of the Elezens” she whispered dumbfounded, “It was said that your race had passed into legend.” “Sorry to disappoint.”

Panic ran through her, insulting the very being she had come to beg for help was a mistake, insulting one of the Elezens was a death sentence. She quickly dipped in a graceful bow, knees almost touching the ground, and lowered her head as much as her spine would allow.

“Forgive me, your grace, I spoke out of turn.”

She did not dare look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her. She could sense his disdain and perhaps a hint of curiosity. She kept her head low and her knees bent, waiting for him to speak, to dismiss her, or worse, to kill her. Her muscles screamed at her, and she secretly thanked her mother for her rigorous etiquette lessons. Lya might look frail and delicate, but she could curtsy for hours, her body well-trained to the princessly art of lowering oneself (literally) to please powerful men.

“Sit.” He finally said. “And pray tell, why is a princess seeking me out. That ought to be an interesting tale.”

For a brief moment, as she sat opposite him, nervousness overwhelmed her. Her hand clenched into her skirt, her fingers tugging at the fabric. She had not planned for this, hadn’t even considered the possibility, his kind was supposed to be extinct. This changed everything. Elezen were stronger than most dragons, smarter too. Knights didn’t kill Elezens, they simply ceased to exist; or hid in the heart of a snowy mountain, it would seem. Still, she couldn’t help but stare, he looked so… human.

“Speak.” He ordered, “all the fidgeting and staring is deeply annoying.” “I’m sorry, your grace, I expected you to be…” “Taller?” “Bluer actually, with more scales perhaps?” “I can hardly read with a full set of claws,” he pointed out with a haughtily condescending tone.

She swallowed heavily and nodded. She had been willing to face a beast breathing fire, surely she could converse with a man reading a book. She hadn’t escaped her father’s dungeon and portaled all the way up north to give up now. She brushed off her skirt, took a deep breath and raised her head to meet his gaze.

“I've come to request the honor of being your captive.” Words stumbled out of her mouth so fast she wasn’t sure she had been intelligible. “Do I look that feeble that you’d rather be my prisoner than some baron’s wife?” He said, weary and just a little bit sharp. “Do you not fear me?” “I do, very much fear you, your grace. Even more so now that I know of your true lineage. But I wish to live, and being held captive, given the proper circumstances, seems rather small compared to losing my life.” “I don't follow.” “I was born under the blood moon, your grace…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, didn’t need to, they both knew what it meant. Silence stretched between them, only broken by the sound of a log cracking in the fireplace. When the dragon spoke again his voice wasn’t thunderous nor loud, it wasn’t “ dragon-like ”; it was soft, barely a whisper, with a hint of sadness to it, and something else. Empathy? Pity? Most people pitied her.

“I didn’t realize humans still followed the old ways. And they call us beasts… Very well, I can see how this agreement would benefit you, but what's in it for me?” “It is my understanding that a dragon’s reputation among his peers is correlated to the size of his hoard and his ability to keep a princess captive.” She started, glad her voice didn’t betray any of her fear. “Your hoard is rumored to be quite impressive, but you never…”

She hesitated for a while, she needed to be careful with her words, she had insulted him once, it would be a mistake to do it again, dragons weren’t known for being magnanimous. Still, there wasn’t exactly a pleasant term to describe the situation, ‘prisoner’ seemed a bit excessive considering she was offering to be locked away in a tower of her own free will. Well, maybe not locked away, and there was no tower…but ‘guest’ would be most inappropriate. Hosts had duties towards their guests, she could not insinuate that he’d owe her anything.

“You’ve never ‘harbored’ a princess before”, she finally settled on. “I suppose you find the task bothersome, fending off knights can be quite tiring, believe me, I know.”

He laughed, barely a huff, but she heard it, and she liked it. It spurred her on, and she smiled in return. Maybe their shared disdain for knights could bring them to a quid pro quo.

“I'm the thirteenth princess of the sand kingdom, hardly the golden prize, and even if a knight wanted to risk it all, well, rumor has it your hoard is made of books…” she let her eyes wander around the room, her stare landing on yet a precarious tower of volumes, minutes away from collapsing on the ground. “Not exactly the type of treasure knights tend to seek out. They're not very well-read. So you see, this agreement would benefit both of us.”

His eyes narrowed at her as he studied her. His stare was neither cold nor disdainful, but calculating. He was appraising her, measuring her worth and deciding whether she was worth the hassle; and for those interminable seconds, she held her breath in anticipation of his response.

“I can clean too. And sing.” She hastened to add. “I'm fairly good at enchanting animals. I could sing the rats away from your books.”

He huffed once more, amused at her outburst.

“No need to oversell it, Princess. You have yourself a deal.”

#FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #estinien x wol #Estinien Wyrmblood #my writing #soulmate AU #AU #dragon Estinien is the hill I'll die on

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konohagakureship · 4 years

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Hidan and Kakuzu d&d au! Two more members of the Akatsuki Fellowship!! They are travelling around Khorvaire, in the world of Eberron!

au! Akatsuki D&D

Headcanons:

All the info related to places and clans is from the canonic lore of Eberron, or from interpretations that I’ve found here and there, and also a bit of my own homebrew lore. I’m gathering all the info and sources in my WorldAnvil page so you can check it out if you want :)

And this is the map with notes so you can pin all the locations.

This time I chose to put only the info relevant to the characters to make the post shorter. But still, this will be a LONG post so be prepared xD

Founding of the Akatsuki Fellowship

All the members of the party met in Sharn, the biggest city of the continent of Khorvaire. They were there for different reasons but ended up travelling together across the world.

Hidan the bloody warlock

Hidan was born in the warrior nation of Karrnath in the city of Atur, where the living and dead coexist in a daily basis.

His parents were members of the Blood of Vol cult, and actively participated in the life of the Crimson Monastery, the largest worship site dedicated to Vol in the entire continent.

From a young age, his parents instructed him in the faith of the Divinity Within and encouraged him to follow their path and become a Seeker of the Blood of Vol.

The Blood of Vol is a religion centered on the belief of Divinity Within, which means that they do not revere any deity but the blood that courses through their own veins. The followers of the Blood of Vol are called Seekers, and many of them are necromancers employed by the government of Karrnath to control their undead soldiers.

Seekers believe that death is a curse prevent mortals from achieving divinity, so by breaking the curse of mortality, humanity will be able to live a plenty existence. Necromancy is an attempt to fight the curse of mortality and prevent the loss of the knowledge and skills obtained by past generations.

Contrary to the popular belief, Seekers cherish life and do not want to become undead. Those who become undead are considered to be martyrs who have given up their own chance at divinity to help others, since they will become tools for the living.

The Blood of Vol cult is ruled from Atur by The Crimson Covenant.

At the age of twelve, Hidan showed signs of possessing magical abilities, which catched the interest of the Cult and welcomed him into the Crimson Monastery to train his powers in favor of their religion and ulterior plans.

Hidan had always been an avid follower of his faith, but soon after joining the Monastery he started to interpret it in his own terms.

His warlock status made him believe that his blood carried the divine will, and that his mission was to actively fight for the Divinity Within by converting all the misguided mortals to The Blood of Vol, or sending them to their deceiving gods to see for themselves how misguided they were.

The years passed and Hidan only grew more powerful and reckless, learning and crafting unique invocations to unleash his magic at its fullest potential.

His ever growing power mixed with his free interpretation of the beliefs of The Blood of Vol, marked him as an individual too independent and powerful to escalate in the ranks of the Cult.

In an attempt to channel his energy and give him a purpose, The Covenant prompted him to join the Order of the Emerald Claw, the paramilitary arm of the Blood of Vol, and sent him to Rekkenmark.

The Order of the Emerald Claw is an outlawed organization of Karrn patriots and Blood of Vol worshippers spread throughout Khorvaire. They continue to operate in a semi-terrorist fashion to this day, proclaiming their desire to see Karrnath once again rise to power.

Their connection to the Cult is only known by highest ranking members of the Order.

Hidan was sent to Rekkenmark, in the border with Thrane. His cell had the undercover mission to hunt down any paladin of the Church of the Silver Flame that entered Karrnath with the intention of killing Vol’s vampires and undeads.

The Blood of Vol is a forbidden religion in some regions of the continent due to the evil connotations associated with their practices, and many groups such as the Church of the Silver Flame actively works to destroy them.

His days as an Emerald Claw Knight were short, though.

At the beginning, Hidan thought that the Order was his rightful place, that surrounded by powerful patriots he will be able to bring the divine will to all the mortals and spread his faith to the edge of the world.

However, he soon started to feel disenchanted with how the Order handled their business and how little they cared about his divine will. He realised that like in the Monastery, the Order also lacked of determination, and so he began to make their creed his and reform it by his own standards.

The time passed and Hidan grew more reckless and discarded his superior’s orders more frequently, which caused friction within his cell.

By recommendation of The Covenant, when the situation became unsustainable, The Emerald Claw “prompted” him to take his own path and fight for the Order by himself in his own terms, far away from Rekkenmark.

Instead of going back to Atur, Hidan decided to travel the world, free from any restraints, finding misguided mortals to convert to the Blood of Vol and killing all those who didn’t want to achieve immortality.

Unsurprisingly for everyone but himself, his homicidal activities granted him the status of “kill in sight” in many cities, and soon the bounty for his head was high enough to buy a villa in the upper levels of Sharn.

So Hidan, a powerful warlock and Seeker, spent the following years running away from the law and inquisitors of every city he stepped on. He never bothered to hide his presence anyway...

After a near death experience with a Flame paladin in Sigilstar, he traveled to Sharn, where he knew he could hide from prying eyes and find refuge in one of the Order’s liars.

However, The Emerald Claw rejected to host him as he attracted too much attention, forcing him to hide in the lowest levels of the city, where he was told that there was a unofficially Vol-friendly tavern run by elves.

Little did he know, that in the Callestan district lived one of the most renowned bounty hunters of Sharn, who was currently drinking a pint in the same tavern he choose to spend the night in.

Kakuzu the bounty hunter

Kakuzu was born in the port city of Zarash’ak, in The Shaodw Marshes.

His father was a human from House Vadalis (beast tamers), while his mother was a human with a quarter of orc blood from House Tharashk with the Mark of Finding (bounty hunters).

He was raised within the Tharashk House and learned how to bounty hunt from a young age. Even though his training was focused on the ways of his mother’s House, he enjoyed spending time with his father and help him train and sell his imported beasts from the Eldeen Reaches.

Kakuzu spent his childhood proudly working for House Tharashk, dreaming of becoming a renowned bounty hunter and awakening a powerful Mark of Finding. However, his dreams would sunk when at the age of seventeen he finally manifested his dragonmark.

It was an aberrant dragonmark.

The dragonmarks are passed through bloodlines and when two members of different dragonmarked families reproduce it often results in aberrant dragonmarks. Originally aberrant marked were seen as outcasts and outsiders, often shunned by the houses and eked out a pitiful existence. Now they unite under their own House, House Tarkanan.

Kakuzu tried to hide his new mark, constantly covering his body as much as he could and not getting intimately close to anyone for fear of being discovered and casted aside. His mood soured in a couple of months, and he ostracised himself from his closest friends and family.

But after a couple of years it had grown up so much that it almost took his entire back, and inevitably the House found out about his condition and expelled him from the clan.

Abandoned by his people, he traveled to Sharn in an attempt to join the Aberrant Dragonmarked House Tarkanan.

House Tarkanan is a house only formed by aberrant markeds, from any race and clan. They are usually bounty hunters, mercenaries and accountants.

When House Tarkanan first established itself in Sharn, the halfling Boromar Clan attempted to assimilate them, but the offer was turned down. This resulted in the Boromars attempting to destroy the House. When this proved too difficult a deal was struck. Since the Boromar clan doesn't traffic in assassinations, it was agreed that so long as House Tarkanan doesn't take contracts against the Boromars, they would be permitted to stay in Sharn without paying a fee.

Despite being shunned away by his family and now working as a bounty hunter for a bunch of criminals, Kakuzu found his place in Sharn. He also worked as an accountant for the clan from time to time, a nice changes of winds from his usual, dirtier, business.

He made himself a name in Sharn, and over the years was granted the title of Baron, as a senior assassin of the Clan. Kakuzu was well known in the city, especially in the districts of Lower Dura.

He established his residence in the lawless district of Callestan mainly because the rent was cheaper, but also because his best informants also maraud those streets, inns and ateliers.

Kakuzu is a baron of House Tarkanan, and his main income comes from the clan’s dealings. However, he takes freelance work if the pay is good enough, and he usually doubles his fees if the contract is from his former House.

House Tharashk, despite expelling Kakuzu many years ago, is often interested in hiring his services in the big city, since bounty hunters that are not from House Tarkanan or the Boromar Clan are not allowed to make business freely even after paying a bountiful fee.

House Tharashk has deals and a close relationship with House Thuranni. The elven house team with them whenever they need to find artifacts or people, in exchange for influences and intel. They are currently working together with the Emerald Claw in Stormreach (Xen’dirk), seeking ancient artifacts for Lady Vol.

House Thuranni is involved in many dubious affairs and unofficially allied with many organisations, such as the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw. The Thuranni fought alongside Karrnath during the War, and they have an important presence in Atur with their True Shapers academy.

These unofficial affairs turn every Thuranni establishment into a safehouse for those allies who need refuge or a meeting point.

So Kakuzu visits The Shadowkeeper tavern whenever the Tharashk need something from him, to catch up with his informants, or just to drink a large pint.

...though cashing in a good bounty for a dumb Seeker, is also interesting.

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We have 6 out of 8 members of the party!! yeyyy!!! now i need to finish the other two ;)

#naruto #akatsuki #hidan #kakuzu #au! akatsuki d&d #d&d #Dungeons and Dragons #eberron #my art #there's only 2 more left to go!!!!!#now i need to update the info in the WA page and also the map #anyway! check the other two posts too bc their lore is connected in some characters and you may understand them better #i know this is A LOT of lore to read hahaha but i hope you find it interesting #i tried to stick with the canon as much as i could and build their backstories and characters based on the canon material #some things are homebrew but most of it is canon so that's pretty cool for an au :DDDD #hidan is always like: why nobody wants to join the BoV? why is everyone prosecuting me? i have never been wrong in my life #kakuzu is done with life in general #also! kakuzu doesn't like itachi bc he's a thuranni and thuranni are allies with the tharashk #itachi doesn't like him bc he's an aberrant marked and he has prejudices against him which is not nice #itachi helps in the tavern when he's not assassinating people for his House. but he really doesn't work there #sasori and kakuzu exchange intel very often. both visit the tavern almost daily and gossip about everything #first sasori only went bc of the intel. now he has extended rants with deidara about art and their academies and how much they actually suck #deidara lives in the garret so now he's neighbours with hidan who rented a tiny cheap room #kisame's there too. he has an orc sized room for him and his tiny orclet. so he's their neighbour too #now there's only konan and nagato left!! and if you haven't noticed. there's a bit of foreshadowing in hidan's story ;)#i hope you like their designs and lore!! and tysm for reading all this text xD i know it's long but i really enjoy sharing it with you!#and as always if you have any question just send me an ask!

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