#agentbaron

Give me something to believe in

As Alive As You Need Me To Be | Nine Inch Nails

Other version

Walkerbaron. Suggestive, set in a nebulous pre-canon Marvel Zombies moment.

"Report," Zemo demands as soon as they are alone squeezed into the small box room Walker has claimed as an office. There's barely room to breathe in here, but space is at a premium on the Raft with the number of passengers they have. It's so tight, Walker's body brushes up against Zemo's open legs from his perch sitting on the desk.

"The tribute has been selected," Walker states, barely suppressing the shudder when Zemo moves his leg, rubbing against the soldier deliberately. "Three groups. I've left them celebrating in the main hall."

Zemo hums. "Numbers?"

"Twenty. Mixed ages but all healthy enough."

"Suspicions?"

"None so far. I've got trained guards around the perimeter keeping watch."

"We have time," he says smoothly. A smile tugs at Walker's lips and then disappears, schooled into the perfect little soldier as he sinks to his knees, hands rising but not yet touching. He tilts his head up in question and their eyes meet. Zemo nods, repressing a satisfied sigh when those hands touch him, sliding up his thighs and working to open his belt, to pull his zipper down. "Good boy."