#voljena | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hereticpriest · 3 months

Text

Clutch

Relationship: Helmut Zemo x SuperSoldier Reader

Warnings: Happy Hydra Hunting, Badass Reader, Supersoldier Reader, Badass Helmut Zemo, Kink with minimal negotiation but fully consensual, pre-existing relationship, daddy kink, impact play, spanking, punishment, Dom Helmut Zemo, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, pregnancy.

Baron Helmut Zemo watched through a high-powered scope as his lutka approached a brutalistic compound circled with old, rusted wire fencing. She was dressed comfortably for the American Midwest autumn weather, and for the physical activity she was about to do, in thick leggings topped with a long-sleeved sweatshirt. He selfishly took a brief pause to zoom in on the curve of her bum and the flex of her biceps as she gripped the chainlinks of the fence in her hands and tore them apart like it was nothing. God, he loved when she did that. There was nothing hotter to him than his beautiful woman tearing apart any obstacle in her way. Except, perhaps, when she took out an opponent before they even knew they were in a fight.

The Sokovian Baron was perched on an abandoned building a quarter of a mile away, with a good eye line and decent cover. His kraljica was protective, and she liked to keep him out of the line of fire whenever she could, but she never acted like he couldn’t protect himself. She teased him often for his own protective nature when they had been travelling with Bucky and Sam, calling him ‘action man’ and teasingly referring to herself as his damsel in distress. She acknowledged his skill, however, and made good use of it whenever she could. He was better with technology than she was, and he was a skilled engineer, along with being a brilliant man. He was an immensely talented soldier, a leader, a spy and a surprisingly good thief when he was in the mood for it. His mačka, on the other hand, was a talented fighter only made more so by her enhancements. Her senses were off the charts, and she was faster than any other super soldier he’d ever seen, but her reflexes were easily the most impressive enhancement she had. She was a survivalist, gifted at living with limited resources in harsh conditions, and she was a talented hunter. She was multilingual, well-read, and understood an impressive amount about biology and medicine. They made a good duo - two different kinds of hunters working together to flush out and destroy their enemy.

A patrol guard approached where his woman was scouting from, and Zemo watched as before he could even open his mouth to warn her of the danger, she was striking like a cobra. A fist to the throat silenced the man, her ankle sweeping his legs out from under him so that he fell in her arms in a manner that was reminiscent of a dip while dancing. He doesn't see the guard's end. He does not need to in order to know that he will no longer be with this world. When it came to Hydra, his kraljica left no man alive.

Rustling in the thick brush around the fence indicated she had hidden the guard, and he checked the surroundings for any more before letting her know that she was safe. He adjusted his aim, finding the patrolling guards on the roof and taking out one while they were out of each other's line of sight. Two swiftly follows. Number three rounded briefly out of his view, but the moment he came back, Zemo put him down. Four was at the top of a tower, oblivious to what was going on around him, and he was the easiest shot despite the wind and tight quarters.

"All clear." he stated firmly, receiving an affirmative in return. His voljena was off like a light, a blur of motion as she darted across the open field towards the compound. She hit the door like a bullet, and it crashed open, removing her from his sight. Luckily, the compound was poorly planned enough to have large windows through which he could take out some of her adversaries. It was hiding in plain sight as a normal laboratory in which simple blood tests were performed, but that was only a front for a new breed of Hydra reconstructed from the ashes of its predecessor. Several scientists crowded in one room, along with a man who appeared to be in charge, his starch-white lab coat doing little to hide the suit underneath. Zemo couldn’t ID him from behind, but he did resemble Oleksandr Rezler, a former Hydra agent who defected shortly before the fall of Hydra to save his own skin, selling secrets to the UN while keeping Hydra ideals alive in his own reformed image.

Inhale.

One.

Exhale.

Two.

Inhale.

Three.

Exhale.

Four.

Inhale.

Five.

Exhale.

They wised up to the windows, but there was a panic, especially with Rezler incapacitated. Through a first floor window, he spotted his lepotica stalking through the bland halls like a predator. She disarmed a guard, pistol-whipping him hard enough that he crashed through the drywall beside her. She shot another approaching guard, then twisted to shoot the guard she’d disarmed. Zemo watched as she aimed at the wall, firing several shots through it then continuing her march.

“I know your senses are keen, draga, but check your corners. Please.” Zemo requested, and she laughed, rounding the corner into the room she’d just shot into.

“Oh look, ljubavi moja, they’re dead. How shocking!” She teased playfully, leaning out into the hallway as several guards came around the corner looking for her, shooting each of them in quick succession. Out of ammo, she threw the gun to the ground and kept walking. A guard swung through an open doorway to try and surprise her, and she kicked him into the room so she could be seen through the window. Zemo breathed harshly in her ear, unable to help himself as his perfect woman delivered several swift hits to the man’s chest, then took him down through a lab table. The Baron practically panted as she grabbed the guard’s throat, slamming him down into the ground so hard his head cracked the tiles. He would never admit to having to adjust himself in his uncomfortably tight trousers should he be asked, though he knew his partner heard his audible reactions to her over the mic.

Zemo swore he almost moaned in her ear as she stepped on and over the guard’s chest without even looking at him, then walked over to the wall to wall windows. He watched in lovestruck awe as she breathed on the glass to fog it up, then drew a heart, blowing a kiss at him as if she didn’t have blood on her hands. She giggled, and he raised an eyebrow curiously as a mischievous expression crossed her face, shortly before she gripped the front of her shirt and pulled it down to show off her perfect tits.

“Draga, there is a chance someone other than me can see your show.”

“A slim one, yes.”

“You belong to me, lutko moja. As much as I am enjoying the show, and will make you pay for it later, you will cover yourself.” Zemo insisted, and she rolled her eyes, still smiling as she fixed her shirt.

“Luče moje, so protective.” She teased, heading further into the building after blowing him a kiss goodbye. Zemo tracked her progress through the building until she reached the back lab where Rezler lay injured on the ground. He had a towel pressed to the bullet wound in his side, and she pouted mockingly down at him, watching his face twist with recognition.

“You’re meant to be dead.” He breathed as his watery eyes widened with shock, lips flecked with blood.

“Surprise!” She cooed, stepping over him to head over to his desk and stick a USB drive into his computer, “I’m looking for Nikitin. Where is he?”

Rezler spat blood beside him, scowling as he tried to sit up, “Why should I tell you?”

“Because your death can be slow or it can be quick. It can be painful, or I can make the pain stop. You have no true loyalty, Rezler, I know how much you value your pathetic life.”

He gaped at her.

“If I value my life so much, you would lie and tell me you’ll let me live.”

“I don’t care about you enough to lie. Frankly, I would prefer you make this difficult so that I can hurt you. But, srećo moja would likely wish for you to make this quick so we don’t have to stay in this drab country any longer.” His woman replied, and he smiled to himself as he tapped away on his laptop, looking between it and his scope whenever he could. It isn’t easy to get into those files, but he was able to download all of them onto the USB drive remotely so that he can decrypt them later. He has all the time in the world - he’s dead, after all.

“All done. Don’t dawdle to play for too long, ljubavi - we have places to be.” He purred into the mic at his throat, his voice dropping low, accent deepening just to coax his girl to hurry up.

“Yes Daddy.” She replied primly, and he watched with wide eyes and a fluttering in his chest as she lifted her boot and slammed it down on Rezler’s bullet wound. A broken scream split the air, and Zemo found himself shifting atop the roof, pressing the heel of his palm to his crotch again to ease the sudden ache.

Well, fuck.

A soft hum greets you as you comb your fingers back through Zemo's hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he chews on the end of a pen and glares daggers at his laptop. Depositing a tray of tea on the coffee table, you add a drizzle of honey to his cup then pour the tea overtop, stirring it in while you watch him stew. Finally, his gaze flicks up to yours, and he pushes the glasses perched on the end of his nose back up to sit properly. You watch as he lifts the cup to his lips, blowing gently, then taking a sip and humming at the taste. He’s very particular about his tea, but you’ve learned the way he likes things by now, after so long together just you and him.

"Thank you, duša. Sam has gotten himself involved in our business, I'm afraid." He murmurs, and you shrug, sitting on the arm of his chair to peer at his laptop screen. He's been keeping an eye on the new Captain America and the former Winter Soldier, his tone always laced with gentle affection when he speaks about them. You can see several tabs of news articles about the men, but his focus is on some of the hacked documents he's managed to make his way into regarding the Captain's current movements. He’s been dipping his sticky fingers into the U.S government’s honeypot of data while he waits for the information you both stole from the new branch of Hydra to decrypt.

"Colour me surprised." You reply dismissively, twirling a lock of his hair around your fingers as you read the report Zemo's currently making his way through. A program in the corner of the screen runs command after command, decrypting something, you think. Computers have never really been your skillset - a life lived primarily either in a lab or in a forest wasn't exactly conducive to learning to be a tech wizard like your rich boy partner. You’re fairly sure the new Hydra decryption is being done on the desktop computer in the office, so you’re curious what he’s working on on his laptop, but not curious enough to ask. He’ll tell you when it’s done. He always does.

"I do not believe he understands what he has stepped into." Your Baron presses, and you raise an eyebrow at him sceptically. There’s a furrow in his brow, and a tightness of his mouth that lets you know exactly what he’s thinking.

"You want to get involved."

It's a statement, not a question. He nods tentatively, and you pinch his cheek.

"You're so soft, srce. Where is the big bad evil villain?”

He snorts, taking your hand before you can retreat, kissing your fingertips. You watch fondly as his lips brush across your palm, nipping your wrist, then kissing a path up your forearm.

"He lurks within, Šećeru, have no fear. I like Samuel, and James. You cannot blame me for worrying for their safety. And, more practically, what if they get in our way? I know you would not like to have to fight them."

You hum contemplatively, a bit of a pout tugging at your lips as you consider your options. You don’t want to involve yourself with Sam and Bucky again, as much as you did privately care for them and want them to succeed. With time and distance, you had begun to ease up on your discomfort regarding Bucky - in the end, he had lied to the Wakandans about your and Zemo’s death in order to give you a fresh start. He didn’t have to do that, and a lesser man might’ve thought he would have a chance if Zemo was out of the way. But you were not like Sam and Bucky - you were not a hero. Self-sacrifice was not wrought like a blight in your blood. You are selfish, greedy, and possessive. You won’t stop until you destroy every last remnant of Hydra, and you have no intentions of giving up your targets, even for Captain America. Only the man in front of you could ever get you to stop, and yet, he would never ask you to.

“What would you like to do about it, love?” You ask, trailing your fingers down the back of your lover’s neck. He sets his laptop on the coffee table and reaches up to grab you by the waist, dragging you into his lap.

“I am decrypting some files to see exactly what Sam has been told so far. Once we know, we offer information, and perhaps we can save them from themselves. For now, malena moja, we will discuss your behaviour today.”

Your spine stiffens, and you wet your lips, leaning back into his strong chest. Large hands stroke your sides, then grip the curve of your waist tightly.

“What behaviour, Hel?” You ask, playing dumb just to see if you can save yourself, but your lover merely tuts at you.

“I believe you called me something else today, malena. Only good girls get to use my name, and I don’t think you were very good. Do you?” He asks, his voice low and gentle, his tone patronizing. He grips your chin between his fingers, turning your head to face him, examining your expression seriously. You weigh your options. There’s a way out of this - there always is. Zemo is offering you what he believes you were asking for today - he would never push for anything you weren’t wholeheartedly into. You merely need to say red and all of this will stop if you don’t want it.

You’d only been teasing today, testing the waters to see how Helmut would react and seeing if you could rile him up. You’d never really considered calling someone ‘Daddy’ before, even in your wildest fantasies. Part of you had wondered if it might upset your lover, though you hoped it wouldn’t. You might get on his nerves on purpose, but you don’t want to hurt him. But, when you think about Helmut, you do see him as a natural caregiver. He’s done it with Bucky, Sam and yourself when he fed you all, offered his money and belongings, or delighted in the ability to show you things you’d never dreamed of. He was nurturing in your relationship, always showing you ample affection and checking in on your needs. The aftercare was fantastic no matter how gentle or rough he was with you. During your first mission together after fleeing Riga, you’d been shot, and Helmut had helped bathe you and take care of your wounds despite you insisting that you could do it yourself. He was a good lover, and a good partner, and you always feel comfortable exploring new things with him. What’s one more?

“No Daddy, I wasn’t.” You reply quietly, tone sullen, and you watch Helmut’s eyes darken with desire. You affect a sweet pout, and he pouts mockingly back at you, keeping his index finger hooked under your chin while his thumb strokes your lips.

“What did you do wrong today, malena?” He asks, and you squirm a little in his lap, kissing the pad of his thumb as if for mercy.

“I-I was rude,” You begin, and he nods his head in agreement, “I called you Daddy without permission. I mocked you when you showed concern for me. A-And…”

Helmut tilts his head as you pause, pursing his lips, waiting to see how you’ll speak about your biggest infraction.

“And I showed my ti-” You pause as he scowls at you, tutting, “my breasts?”

A tsk.

“My chest?”

Helmut huffs out of his nose, shoving his thumb between your lips to shut you up.

“Let Daddy help you, malena moja, since you cannot seem to get it right. You pulled your top down and showed off your privates - my property - to whoever wanted to look. Naughty little thing.”

You roll your tongue around his thumb, sucking gently, doing your best to impress to avoid catching your lover’s ire. He lets you suck for a moment, but eventually, he seems to tire of the display.

“Do you have anything to say?” he asks, and you wet your lips nervously.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You murmur, twisting a little to face him more, hoping he’ll take pity on you.

“I know you are.” Helmut acknowledges, running his hand down your spine, then giving you a little push, “Take off your clothes.”

You hurry to obey, stripping off your shirt and rolling your leggings down your legs, struggling to kick them away fast enough. You throw your bra to the floor and wiggle your underwear down, all while your Baron watches you with a well-schooled indifference. Once you’re finished, you stand awkwardly, unsure what he wants from you. Normally, you’d crawl into his lap and see how quickly you could get his clothes off, but you know that isn’t what he wants.

“Lay across my lap, princeza.” Helmut commands, and you hurry to obey, your face getting hot as he adjusts you over his knees. His hand strokes across your bottom, then squeezes one plump asscheek. A slap jolts you, though it shocks you more than it hurts.

“Oh!”

He laughs, a huff of air that makes you tremble, knowing that laugh as the one he gives when he’s mocking someone. Strong hands guide you into a secure place that puts your bottom up at an angle for him, and you do your best not to tense up.

“I’m going to give you fifteen. You will count each one, and thank me for punishing you. You deserve this, don’t you, malena?” He asks sternly, and you nod, doing your best to relax.

“Yes Daddy. I deserve this punishment.” You reply, and Helmut strokes your bottom approvingly.

“Good girl. See? You can be such a good girl when you want to be.”

You keen as Helmut lays a rough crack against your ass, but you’re quick to follow your instructions, knowing he won’t go gentle on you if you don’t.

“One. Thank you Daddy.”

“Good, baby. Such a good girl.” Helmut coos. You make it through the first ten fairly well, counting and thanking your lover in a timely manner. As you get to eleven, you have to gulp down your sobs before counting, which your Baron allows. He strokes your reddened skin, giving you a bit of break, though twelve comes soon enough once you’ve caught your breath.

“T-Twelve. Thank you Daddy.” You whimper, and Helmut waits a moment to see if you’ll safe word. When you don’t, he gives you thirteen, and you nearly tear the couch cushions under your hands. He’s certainly not going easy on you, and he knows it. His hand aches from how hard he’s spanking you, but your healing factor makes it necessary for this to have any impact. Your counting and thank you comes through whimpers, and Helmut sighs as if he’s disappointed.

“You can’t take the last two, can you, malena?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“I can. I can take it, please give them to me, Daddy.” You beg, and Helmut hums, running his hand down between your legs to stroke the seam of your cunt.

“Good girl. For that, I will give them to you on fresh skin to ease the pain.” He promises, and you sigh with relief.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

You nearly kick him in the head when he slaps the full force of his hand on your cunt, gentler than he had on your ass, but only marginally less painful. You thank him again, counting the fourteenth spank you’ve taken, and Helmut brushes his fingertips across your clit in reward. You spread your legs a little further, and he croons, rubbing his hand from side to side rapidly for a moment, making you squeal and arch in his lap. With no warning, he spanks his hand against your cunt again, and you sob as you nearly shout fifteen, followed swiftly by thanking him. Helmut lays down on the couch, pulling you on top of him with your ass in the air, your knees on either side of his hips. He strokes your back, pressing soft little kisses across your cheeks, whispering praises against your skin.

“So good for me, sweet girl. Moje srce samo tebi pripada. I’m so proud of you, malena. Daddy will take care of you.”

You preen under his attentions, nuzzling your face into his chest as he pets your hair. He lets you rest for a little while, then slowly maneuvers out from under you, promising to return in only a moment. You’re dozing blissfully in a puddle where he left you when you hear the soft padding of his feet as he approaches, and you blink your eyes open lazily.

“Daddy?”

“I’m here, princeza.” He replies, his voice a deep rumble as he slowly begins to rub arnica cream into your already bruising ass, “you heal so quickly. You can take so much, ljubavi moja.”

You stretch lazily under his hands, arching your back until your bottom is in the air, pressing into his hips.

“Ahh, is my princeza feeling needy?” Helmut asks, petting your back sweetly as you wiggle your bottom against the hard bulge in his trousers, “do you think you’ve earned Daddy’s cock?”

You nod insistently, pushing back on him a little harder, and he laughs softly as he undoes his trousers. He doesn’t remove them, instead pulling himself free of his underwear and rubbing the head of his cock through the wetness practically dripping from your cunt. He pushes deep inside of you in a single thrust, bottoming out and angling his hips so he can rub against that spot inside of you that drives you wild with every thrust. You cling to the couch cushions, unwilling to stop despite the slight sting every time his trousers rub against your raw ass, guttural moans rolling from you as Helmut makes an effort at breaking your hips. He’s been fluctuating between excessively gentle and desperately rough since you decided not to take Plan B or any birth control since you found that report in the lab you were kept in. Some days, he seems to be convinced that you’re made of glass, and treats you so gently it’s like he thinks you’re pregnant and ready to pop. Others, he seems so desperate for you that he’s almost brutal in the way he fucks you, like today, where he seems to intend to fuck a baby into you whether you like it or not (and whether you’re already pregnant or not). Luckily, you fully intend on giving him all the children he wants, and you will shape the world into a better place for him, and for them.

Helmut leans over your back as he fucks you, grunting against your ear, muttering in Sokovian about how much he loves you, how good you feel, how good you are for him. He promises to take care of you, treat you like the princess you are in his eyes, make you feel so good you never want for anything. He strums your clit just the way you like, quick and gentle, rolled between his fingers until you scream his name into the cushions. His hot seed floods you only a few thrusts after you go tumbling into a pleasureful end, and he fucks it deeper, squeezing your thighs.

“Hips up, my little love. Keep my seed inside you. Give it time to take, if it hasn’t already.” Your Baron practically purrs to you as he thumps down onto the couch behind you, panting for breath.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already gotten me pregnant, Daddy.” You respond through a blissful sigh, and Helmut strokes a hand over your bottom, and down over your pretty hips.

“If I haven’t, I will, sweet girl.”

In the end, you were, in fact, already pregnant. When you meet up with Sam a few days later to trade information with him, you have to pause partway through the conversation to throw up your guts in a bush. Helmut begins to approach you, but you point at him and shake your finger no. You can just imagine the stressed out, annoyed face he’s making, but you have very little sympathy in your condition. He’s been overprotective since he found out you were carrying his child, but you don’t like it when he fusses over you while you throw up your guts. It’s gross, and even if he doesn’t care about how gross it is, you do.

Sam and Bucky congratulate you both, taking the information offered, and promising to let you know if they find Nikitin. Just under a month later, they alert you to a new lab they’ve found, and the four of you go in together. It’s almost anticlimactic how easy it is with two super soldiers, the new Captain America, and an experienced spec ops soldier like Zemo. Nikitin begs for his life the same as any other man, and Sam leaves the room to let you put a bullet between the Hydra monster’s eyes. As you leave, they promise to alert you about any new developments, and you promise to send them baby photos when your child is born. Bucky asks if you’ve thought about how you’ll deal with a super soldier child, and Helmut comments that the child will have the serum diluted in their blood, and hopefully won’t be as strong as a normal super soldier. What were the chances the child would be anywhere near as strong as you? Minimal at best.

Helmut is a godsend during your pregnancy, despite how annoyed you get when he’s overprotective or overbearing. He does well not to compare you to Heike, who you know from previous conversation had a very easy pregnancy and posted glowing photos to her instagram page. It was in memoriam now, but you had curled up on the couch with Helmut to look through the photos of his late family together one night shortly after escaping Riga together. She was a beautiful woman, and Carl was a stunning little boy, and you grieved for their loss with Helmut in what he later said was a very cathartic night of snuggles and tears.

He’s soft with you when he needs to be, but he gets stern when you’re neglecting yourself or putting too much energy into something needless. He’s gotten good at manhandling you despite you being stronger. You’re careful with your strength with him to avoid hurting him, and he’s been able to use that to his advantage to overpower you when necessary. He rubs your feet and ankles, helps you in and out of the bath as you get larger, gets you any food you ask for even if you wake him up at two in the morning to beg for ice cream, or strawberries with the skin peeled off, or oranges without any pith left on them, or extra-crispy bacon. He is endlessly patient with your mood swings or constant need to pee, and sympathetic to your morning sickness. You were fairly sure he was soothed at least somewhat by the fact that you were insatiably horny since the first trimester. Not a day went by where you didn’t have your ‘baby daddy’ as you called him, just to make him cringe - which, frankly, was something you had begun to delight in since the beginning of your pregnancy. Nothing seemed to entertain you more than making Helmut cringe out of his skin by repeating weird sayings from the internet that you didn’t fully understand, or using cheesy pick-up lines. You called it teasing, but he called it ‘breaching the Geneva conventions with obvious malice’.

Truthfully, the world has little cause to think you both alive, for you spend most of your time bent over a supportive pillow in your extraordinarily comfortable bed while Zemo makes his best effort at making you lose your mind. It’s one of his main skills, and certainly the one he’s most proud of. Your hunger is seemingly unending, and while you may be superhuman, Zemo is only a man. A wonderful man who does his best to meet your needs, but he can only perform so many times in a night, and he does eventually exhaust himself. Thankfully, he’s also very fond of tying you down and strapping a vibrator to your clit until you finally tire yourself out, and that is often enough to get you warmed up for him to take care of you properly and tire you out at the same time as him. It was a very, very pleasurable learning experience.

You develop faster than a normal pregnancy, but you did expect this - Hydra hoped you would be able to give birth and become pregnant again in the same year, giving them more chances of a supersoldier army. You’re the size of a blimp before you even know it, and Zemo worries endlessly about how your birth will go. He hopes that you won’t have any problems, but is thankful at least that he’s fairly sure you won’t be having a superhuman baby considering the lack of spine-breaking kicks. Your baby was going to be normal. Or at least, mostly normal.

Zemo was wrong.

Your daughter is born in the midst of a summer thunderstorm, and she comes out wailing her little lungs out. Helmut is instantly smitten, laying on the bed beside you, stroking her little hands as she latches to your breast for the first time. He can’t seem to keep his hands off either of you, and he nearly cries when your daughter wraps her little hand around his finger. He peppers you with kisses despite your obvious exhaustion and the fact that you’re soaked in sweat, then wipes your face clean to make you more comfortable. He tells you you’ve never been more beautiful, and you tell him he’s an asshole, because you definitely have.

The problem begins when your daughter is six months old, and has decided that she wants things, and can get them with her own two hands. Adelheid is too strong for a normal baby. Too strong, even, for a slightly-super baby. Zemo collapses on the couch after having to wrestle your daughter into her onesie and eventually swaddling her just to keep her from getting into trouble, his hands over his face as you rock her to put her to sleep. When you rejoin him, you pull his head into your lap and pet his hair, smiling when he buries his face in your stomach.

“This is your fault.” You murmur, “You jinxed us, Hel.”

“I know I did.” He whines, groaning into your belly, “I’m not going to be able to keep up.”

“You’re perfectly fine at wrangling me.” You remind him, and he scoffs.

“You want to be wrangled. Babies do not want to be wrangled.” Zemo retorts, sitting up and pressing a gentle kiss to your mouth, his hand cupping your cheek, “I will need your help. Every step of the way.”

“Well, it’s a very good thing I have no intention of going anywhere, isn’t it?” You reply with a smile, stroking his cheeks with both hands, enjoying the soft stubble he’s been too busy to shave, “It’s you and me.”

“You and me.” Zemo agrees, pressing his forehead to yours and sighing. He’s too old for this. Too old for a superpowered baby and a superpowered woman.

And yet he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

#baron helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo

47 notes · View notes