#zemo imagines

Your apartment door was already open when you returned. A chill ran down your spine as you stepped inside, clutching your bag as if it could serve as any real defence. 

The room was untouched, no signs of a struggle, no shattered glass, no ransacked drawers. 

That was almost worse. 

Whoever had been here didn’t need to search. 

They had simply waited.

The soft clink of glass drew your eyes to the living room. 

There he was.

Baron Helmut Zemo sat comfortably in your armchair, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in hand. 

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes watched you as if he already knew your every thought before you could speak it.

“You’ve been asking dangerous questions.”

Your heart pounded, but you tried your best to steady your voice. “And you’ve been answering them by breaking into my home?”

Zemo smirked, tilting his glass in a slow, lazy gesture. “Consider it an act of courtesy. Others might not be so... civil.”

You knew who he was. 

A man responsible for the collapse of the Avengers, and for the deaths of countless people. 

A man who had spent years in prison, only to escape and disappear into the world like a ghost. 

And yet, as you sat across from him in a dimly lit café hours later, you realized you were not afraid. 

Not exactly.

“If you’re here to threaten me, Baron, I should warn you, I don’t scare easily.”

He chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. “If I wanted you gone, you wouldn’t be here at all.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to let his words shake you. “Then what do you want?”

Zemo leaned forward slightly, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face. “You seek the truth about Sokovia. I can give it to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Why?”

He exhaled through his nose, something almost like amusement flashing in his eyes. “Because the world has already painted its version of events. You believe you are uncovering a hidden story, but in reality, you are only seeing what they allow you to see. If you truly wish to know what happened, then listen to someone who was there.”

It was a gamble. You knew it. 

And yet, you found yourself unable to walk away.

---

The more time you spent with him, the more difficult it became to separate the man from the monster.

Zemo spoke of Sokovia not with the cold detachment of a war criminal, but with the grief of a man who had lost everything. 

His wife. His son. His people. 

He did not seek pity, nor did he ask for forgiveness. He merely laid the truth before you like a blade, sharp and undeniable.

“I watched as the sky fell,” he murmured one evening, standing by the window of a safe house he had taken you to. “I heard my son call out for me. And I was too late.”

Your chest tightened. “That’s why you did all of this.”

He turned to you then, eyes dark with something unspoken. “Would you not burn the world for the ones you love?”

Your breath caught. Because at that moment, you weren’t sure you could say no.

Somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.

What began as careful interviews turned into late-night conversations. What started as caution became trust. 

And trust was far more dangerous than fear.

One night, as the rain drummed softly against the rooftop, Zemo studied you in the quiet glow of a single lamp. 

“You should leave,” he said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

You took a step closer. “Do you want me to?”

He said nothing. 

But when your fingers brushed against his, he did not pull away. 

Instead, he let out a breath, as if surrendering to something he had fought for too long. 

His hand closed around yours, firm and warm, and when his lips met yours, it was not the kiss of a villain, nor a desperate man seeking salvation.

It was something else entirely.

You knew there was no simple ending.

Zemo was still a fugitive. You were still a journalist. 

The world would not allow what had grown between you to exist without consequence. But as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the night, he made a promise:

“This is not goodbye.”

And you believed him.

Because for all the ghosts of Sokovia that haunted him, you had become the one thing that reminded him he was still alive.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

“Did you fight with them, Bucky?” Yelena asks from beside the soldier.

“Yeah,” the memory appears in his mind. Specifically where he grabbed Rocket by the scruff and spun them in circles to cover more area as they fired off their guns. “Our interactions were brief…but memorable.”

The Baron had seen many things over the years, like the rest of humanity with the formation of the Avengers and reveal of intergalactic and enhanced beings, but to stay he wasn’t thinking, ‘what the fuck?’ by the picture in front of him would be a lie.

An earthling turned ravager, a blue mercenary, a woman with antennas, a genetically engineered raccoon, a living tree, a gray alien that could take down Thor, a man with a metal Mohawk, a telekinetic dog, and an exiled sword wielding Goddess. All misfits and outcasts, mostly space criminals turned superhero guardians of the cosmos.

Well….they were quite the bunch.

“They are not still with the Avengers, I take it?” Zemo wanders around, eyes lingering on the Goddess. White streaks adorned her natural hair color, eyes gold and lips painted with what appeared to be a permanent smirk. She wore a gold and white headpiece that had an owl extending its wings.

Name/Alias: Minerva, Goddess of War; Race: Deity; Planet of Origin: Caelum; Age: approx. 2500 yrs (39 Earth yrs); Occupation: Warrior/Mercenary/Defender of the Andromeda Galaxy; Allegiance: The High Council of Caelum (formerly), Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor, God of Thunder, The Avengers (formerly); Abilities: Cosmic manipulation, enhanced strength, agility, speed, & durability, thermal detection & mental teleportation; Specialization: artillery and battle strategy.

Ross let out a sigh, “only when the planet is about to go to shit due to an intergalactic threat. Which we’ve now got on our hands, but considering the Avengers are all on sabbatical I’m sending you in,” he checks his watch, “but I need all the extra hands and like I said, they’re experienced.”

Zemo stares at the blank sky, “How will we know they've arrived?”

“Believe me,” Ross mutters under his breath. “You’ll know.”

A loud rumbling noise caught everyone’s attention, gazes turning upward as a hexagon shaped breech in the sky revealed a very large spaceship in its wake, followed by the distinct lyrics of AC/DC’s ‘Back to Black.’

“Back in black. I hit the sack. I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back. Yes, I’m let loose. From the noose. That’s kept me hanging about.”

“Oh my,” Yelena breathed out, hair flying back from the gust of wind. Zemo lifted a hand to cover his face from the leaves, as did the others, many wide eyed.

“I’ve been looking at the sky. ‘Cause it’s gettin’ me high. Forget the hearse ‘cause I never die. I got nine lives. Cat’s eyes. Abusin’ every one of them running wild.”

“Great song,” Justin voiced, grinning from ear to ear. The ship made its descent, music getting louder.

“‘Cause I’m back. Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back,” it approached the tarmac, “Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back, back.” wheels hit the tarmac, engine powering down but music still blasting, “Well, I’m back in black,” the ship doors opened, revealing steps extending to the ground, “Yes, I’m back in black.”

It was almost like a scene from a movie. Slow-motion if one will by how the Guardians exited their ship and stepped foot on the tarmac with AC/DC on full volume. All dressed in their new suits of red and blue leather with the Ravager flames on the chest.

Arriving in style.

Quill led with the rest flanking his sides. Drax munching on snacks while Nebula looked menacing and Groot towered over everyone. Cosmo had her tongue out in excitement, Rocket carrying his gun strapped to his back. Mantis’s chin held high, like she was on top of the world and Kraglin trying not to appear lost. Lastly Minerva was drinking a caprisun, Ray Bans covering her gold eyes.

Zemo tilts his head in amusement at the sight. He expected the Goddess, of war nonetheless, to have a more menacing approach like Nebula considering her reputation. But she was just as relaxed and laid back as Drax.

The Guardians walked several paces until they were directly in front of the Thunderbolts. It was then the music stopped, Ross being the first to address them. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

Quill gave a smug grin, “We know.” Hands go to his hips, “You’re wearing a suit so you must be the boss man. Although I believe there’s also a boss lady we’re here to do business with.”

“Director Fontaine is currently occupied. She’ll be arriving in the morning.”

“I assume we won’t be knowing a damn thing until that happens, huh?”

Ross tightens his lips, “You assume correctly.”

“I told you we should’ve handled it on our own,” Minerva’s glances to Quill annoyed. Surprised by her voice, Zemo's eyebrows raised at her sudden input. Her accent was slightly Italian given her mythological origin is Roman.

Quill clicked his tongue, “We don’t have authority here, Minnie.”

“Midgard is part of the Andromeda Galaxy. Technically we should.”

Now the man was giving her a pointed look after Ross’s body language turned defensive, “I’d rather not get our asses thrown in Earth’s prison system. We go by the rules—the ones we established.”

Minerva grumbles under her breath, finishing the last remnants of her juice pouch, “Would’ve finished the job faster. They wouldn’t even know we were here.”

“Okay well, we’re doing things this way. We’re here as a team to work with a team. Right, Mr. Secretary?”

Ross’ disapproving eyes linger on Minerva, who in return rolls her own, before turning his attention back to Quill, “Yes. Now let’s move on shall we?”

He lets out a breath of relief, “Agreed.” Bidding a warning look to each of his teammates, they all wait for what the man in the suit has to say. Ross extends a hand to the people on either side of him.

“This is my team. All with different levels of skill and experience. Justin Hammer is our tech and weapons specialist,” Justin gives a wave, “Yelena Belova,” Ross points to the blonde in a white tactical suit, “former Black Widow and master assassin.” At the mention of Black Widow Rocket, Nebula, and Minerva all tense, faces becoming solemn at the memory of Natasha. They were the three remaining Guardians during the blip, becoming close with the Avenger.

“Ava Starr, she can phase through anything,” they all look impressed, finding the talent cool. “Antonia Dreykov, who we like to call Taskmaster.”

“Why’s that?” Kraglin asked intrigued.

“She has photographic reflexes and can mimic your fighting powers. Basically use your own moves against you.”

“Niceeee,” all the Guardians echo. Ross points to the two individuals in between Zemo and Yelena.

“Our super soldiers, Captain John Walker and I believe you all know Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky tightens his mouth with a curt nod.

“You still got that arm on ya?” Rocket muses, earning a nudge—well more like a kick—from Minerva. The rest of the Thunderbolts besides Bucky all become wide-eyed at the talking Raccoon…even though it said on the file he could.

But how the fuck else were they suppose to react to a talking raccoon?

All Bucky does is glare, “Don’t even think about it.” Rocket shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

“Why is that one carrying a giant frisbee?” Drax’s mouth is filled with Zargnuts. Walker, the man in question, becomes visibly offended.

“It’s a shield not a frisbee.” Zemo bites back a smirk at the soldier's tone. Not to mention the Guardians' reactions were priceless.

“A shield?” Mantis repeats confused.

“It’s a frisbee,” Drax mumbles.

“Like that circular object Minerva conjures to deflect attacks,” Nebula tiredly explains. Mantis’s mouth forms the shape of an ‘o’.

“And lastly,” Ross sounds just as exhausted as the cyborg, “Baron Helmut Zemo, former intelligence operative.”

“I am Groot,” Zemo’s attention goes to the tree alien, confused by his words. Minerva, seeing his expression, addresses it, “He says he likes your fancy cape.”

‘Cape?’ He thinks, but doesn’t comment on it and his perplexed reaction makes Minerva smirk. Instead Zemo says, “Well, I appreciate the compliment. Thank you.” Groot’s pleased, grinning wide like a child.

It’s then Quill’s turn to formally introduce the Guardians. The Thunderbolts bite back their own amusement at the nicknames and surprise of hearing the dog, Cosmo, speak through her suit with a distinct Russian accent. Afterwards Ross leads them all into the hangar, Minerva removing her sunglasses now that she was inside, allowing her gold eyes to be visible.

From there they all interact, awkwardly for the most part as they have no idea what the hell to do as they wait for further instruction. It soon becomes bickering and even challenging someone in hand-to-hand combat.

Well, what can you expect when a team of heroes meet a team of villains/anti heroes? Rivalry at its finest.

“Any day now, Quill,” Minerva groans, relaxing her stance. Across from her several feet away was Walker, confused by why she was taking so long to attack. They were standing in the middle of the squared off area with the teams surrounding them, but giving enough space to avoid being in the crossfire. Quill was scrolling through his Walkmen.

“What’s he doing?” Zemo whispers to Kraglin, eyes flicking back and forth from the human Guardian and the Goddess.

“Trying to find a good fight song. You know, get the vibes going.” Out on the square Minerva lets out a loud huff signaling her annoyance was increasing.

“Just give me another second—.”

“Quill.”

“I almost got it.”

“Pick a goddamn song!”

“Fine!” Quill shouts, randomly selecting the first one his finger hits. A second later Duran Duran’s ‘Hungry Like the Wolf,’ blasts through all the speakers attached to the Guardians arms. The antiheroes become perplexed, while also noting the song choice. Justin and Yelena started to bop their heads.

“Darken the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is afire. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

Minerva smirked, retaking her stance. As she lifts her hands, cosmic energy around her consorts to physical matter, taking the shape of a spear and shield in either hand. Wide eyes take over the Thunderbolts.

“Woman, you want me, give me a sign. And catch my breathing even closer behind. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

“Wow,” Justin exhales. “In touch with the ground. I’m on the hunt, I’m after you.”

“That’s so cool,” Yelena muses, others muttering in agreement. “Smell like the sound, I'm lost in the crowd. And I’m hungry like the wolf.” Keeping his admirations to himself, Zemo watches the scene unfold in silence.

“First one to step or get thrown out of the square loses,” Bucky shouts over the music, “Ready….” Walker clutches the strap of his shield, Minerva twirling her spear once, “Fight!”

“Stalked in the forest, too close to hide,” Walker lets out a cry, charging at the Goddess. “I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do,” Minerva blocks his attack, pushing back slightly only to crouch to swipe at his legs, “High blood drumming on your skin, it’s so tight,” Walker dodges her spear, but fails to avoid her kick to his chest, sending him backward. “You feel my heat, I’m just a moment behind.” He brings his shield up in time as her spear barrels down at him. “Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

They continue their one-on-one for several minutes, both coming close to getting the other out of the square and the song changing to ‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways—a favorite amongst the Guardians. The entire time Zemo was mesmerized to say the least. Every move she made was effortless, showcasing strengths and ability to predict Walker's moves.

He hadn’t felt such attraction to a woman in so long. And here he was experiencing a feeling that was almost unfamiliar.

Ultimately Minerva wins the battle in what one would call a divine move. At the peak of the song, Minerva’s golden eyes glow bright resulting in the eyes of the owl headpiece to also glow and become animated. It takes form, coming to life and soars straight at Walker, throwing him off by covering his face.

“What the—uuugh!!” He’s flying through the air, back meeting the harsh ground with an audible groan. The owl leaves him, returning to Minerva and consorting back into a headpiece. When it does her eyes dim back to their normal hue. Her team broke out into whistles and hollars, meanwhile Walker’s were unimpressed.

“Guardians for the win!” Rocket cheered.

“I am Groot!”

“Never underestimate the power of Duran Duran!”

Minerva helps Walker up, “Not bad, soldier.” As she turns to head off the pad, her eyes lock with Zemo’s and a wink is sent his way. Heat rises in the Baron, glancing away to hide his smirk.

Oh boy, trouble was on the horizon.

Next Yelena went against Nebula. Their fight was even more intense and nearly ended in a draw. Eventually Yelena overpowered the cyborg and got her to step out of the square. It was a tie. Groot and Rocket teamed up against Ross in the form of the Red Hulk—which took a lot of convincing—the two claiming the win after fooling the General. Taskmaster beat out Quill, handing his ass to him which had the Guardians in a heap of laughter.

“I enjoyed that more than I should have,” Minerva teases, crossing her arms as she takes a spot beside Zemo. He glances at her, mirroring her expression.

“Not a common occurrence for your friend to lose a fight?”

She scoffs, “You’d be surprised by his record.”

Lastly Bucky went toe-to-toe with Drax, and of course Rocket had to yell, “Take his arm and give it to me!” And well….it ended with them tackling each other out of the square.They didn’t know who won at that point, so the teams were tied 2-2 initiating a debate on who should be crowned the best.

“Okay, let’s call it a day,” Ross announces, ending the squabbling between the groups. “Night’s upon us and frankly I could use a drink. We’ll return here first thing in the morning—7am sharp to discuss the threat and where to go,” he turns to Quill, “we’ve got sleeping quarters arranged for you all if you please. Otherwise my guess is you’ll remain in your ship?”

About an hour later, after both teams settled for the night, Zemo decided to take a walk around the flight line. It became a habit of his since joining the Thunderbolts. A way to clear his mind after a long day of briefings and training. He basked in the peace that came with being alone, but there were times he felt lonely and longing for company to share the peace with.

Ten years since losing his family and the pain never strayed. Yet, he managed to live with it. He accomplished his goal in 2016 when he tore apart the Avengers. Likely is to blame for the loss against Thanos resulting in half of the universe’s population turning into dust for five years.

Did he feel remorse for the consequences of his actions? Possibly. Did he regret it? No. At this rate he’s accepted the reputation he painted himself to be.

“Zemo, correct?” The sudden intrusion spooked the Baron, jumping slightly by the glowing eyes in the darkness. A moment later Minerva stepped into the lighting, eyes dimming to normal. She was still in her suit, though her hair was pulled back, white streaks seeping through the natural color.

“Yes, but you may call me Helmut,” he replied, nodding in greeting to the Goddess.

“Helmut,” she tests the name, “like the headwear people use when they ride bikes or spacesuits?”

“That’s one way to look at it, but yes I suppose so.”

“Interesting. What brings you out this late in the evening?”

He shrugs, “wanted to get away from the constant complaining of my comrades,” eyes go to the sky, “and I like to admire the stars.” Minerva moves to his right, glancing up as well.

“They’re much more incredible up close.” He peers down at her, not bothering to question her judgment. She lives in space after all.

“I bet so. I’m sure the view from here is nothing compared to what you’ve witnessed.”

She shrugs, “These stars you don’t even know if they’re still alive. It took years—possibly millions—for the light to reach Earth.” Zemo looks back up, focusing on the North Star.

“For all we know they burnt out ages ago.”

Their eyes connect, Zemo feeling a weight on his chest by the intensity of her gaze. It’s followed by unease when she says, “Natasha told me about you.”

Instantly he looks away, feeling an unfamiliar wave of dread. “Ah.” Here was a discussion he was not expecting, nor willing, to have.

But Minerva didn’t show criticism. In fact, her gaze and tone resembled understanding. “How do you do it?” The question took him aback.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Align yourself with people who go against what you stand for?” Minerva’s tone wasn’t condescending at all, only curious. “Most of your team are enhanced individuals—two are super soldiers to be exact. You went to many lengths to disband the Avengers and put an end to superheroes,” there’s a slight tilt of her head, eyeing the Baron with intrigue, “but you join a group consisting of people who fall between the spectrum of hero and villain where most are the exact thing you wished to eradicate. Not to mention led by two people you wouldn’t say you share similar moral values with. Why join them?”

For the first time in his life, Zemo was at a loss for words. Not a single word uttered as he tried to comprehend what Minerva had just confronted him with. How could he explain? Hell, he didn’t even know the real truth other than wanting to stay out of his cell. A big price to pay in exchange for freedom.

Minerva spoke again before he could respond, “I once committed an act similar to you,” the surprise is evident on Zemo, “Vengeance against those who were responsible for the death of my loved ones. It’s why I was exiled,” a frown appears, her attention returning to the stars. “So I understand you, probably better than anyone here. Understand why you committed those acts to destroy the Avengers. I don’t fault you for what you did—if I did it would make me a hypocrite. You’re not the villain Ross and the Avengers made you out to be.”

“How so?” His voice is strained, “what have you lost?” He didn’t mean to come off as defensive, but the conversation was bringing up emotions Zemo didn’t want to face.

“As Goddess of War all I knew was bloodshed. How to prevent it and how to fight it. Battle strategy was my domain, and the High Council knew better than to question my judgment,” she releases an exhale, “but Mars, the God of War and my brother, was my ultimate rival. He hated how much our father doted on me and agreed with plans I coordinated. It made him feel inferior. He’d do anything to prove himself.” Her tone remains neutral despite the painful memory surfacing.

Zemo remained quiet, picturing the scene as Minerva relayed it. Though stoic the Baron could see the pain and sadness lurking behind her eyes. Managing it as best she could for the sake of her friends. Who knows how many years it’d been since she lost whoever it was close to her. But the hole would always remain.

“To put it short,” she started again, bidding a glance, “Our home was under attack and his rash decision to slow down the enemy led to the death of my family—my husband and children.” Sympathy arose in the Baron, understanding her anguish, “An intentional move on Mars’ part because he believed I wouldn’t be fit to remain on the High Council after stuffing such a loss, therefore he would take my place as Head Commander of our armies and my father’s second Command.”

“He wasn’t exiled?” The question left Zemo before he could stop it. Confused by how the God avoided persecution for his crime, Minvera was shunned. “Your family was targeted.”

Minerva’s smile was bitter, “because their deaths were a result of war, the High Council viewed it as collateral. They failed to see Mars’ responsibility, believing he didn’t intend to kill them. So, I took it upon myself to bring justice. Not only to Mars but also the High Council.” Her smile fell once more, “I made sure they would pay. And they did, but it was far from over after finishing the job. Those who survived didn’t hesitate to throw me out to the wolves once I was contained.”

Zemo nods his head, “where did you go afterward if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was imprisoned on Xandar for some time,” well they certainly had some things in common, “Once I escaped I became what your people would call a bounty hunter. Where it led me to meeting those clowns I now call my family,” she pauses before adding, “and escaping prison for a second time. Only it was to save the Galaxy.”

The laugh that escapes Zemo surprises him, “I guess it all worked out then.” Once more they lock eyes, twinkling against the stars shining down above.

“I suppose it did.”

Three Years Later

Zemo raced out the door the moment he awoke to rumbling that shook the foundation of his home. After three years he’d recognize the sound in an instant, only this time it was without warning.

An action that rarely occurred.

Throwing on his coat and house slippers, the clock read 2:30 am, flooding the Baron with worry. ‘What is she doing here at this hour?”

Usually when Minerva drops in she gives Zemo a heads up. A day or two’s notice, but recently he couldn’t get a hold of her and passed it off as the Guardians on a job. With the unexpected visit, so late at night, Zemo instantly knew something was wrong.

Hurrying out to the front lawn right as her ship landed, Zemo jogged to where the stairs extended. When they did, the doors revealed his Goddess, still wearing her suit, standing before him. Zemo noted the exhaustion painting her demeanor. Dark circles beneath her eyes, which appeared dimmer than usual, and scars indicating recently healed wounds.

His arms are around her the moment she’s within distance, her own around his neck, “This is a surprise.”

“Sorry I didn’t call,” the exhaustion was evident in her voice. Barely above a whisper causing Zemo to tighten his hold.

“It’s alright, darling. I’m just glad to see you are okay,” his hand runs along her hair, “wanna tell me what happened?” He hears her sniff, increasing his dread, “Close call?”

“Too many,” her voice cracks and there’s a pause. “We almost lost Rocket. We saved him thankfully, but then we nearly lost Peter. And I almost—,” she stops short, not wanting to relive her near death experience. “This was…it was too much for all of us, Helmut.” A kiss is pressed to her head, offering comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, mein schatz.” Zemo leads Minerva into the home, sitting her in the living room while he goes to put a kettle on the stove. Filling two cups of cherry blossom tea, Minerva’s favorite, he joins her in the living room.

After taking her first sip of the brew, Minerva removes the headpiece from her hair and makes herself comfortable before giving Zemo a play-by-play of the past three days. He stays quiet, listening intently but visibly reacts with each awful detail Minvera relays to him. From the unexpected attack from Adam Warlock, to the disgusting abuse Rocket endured at the hands of the High Evolutionary, to Quill nearly imploading in space had it not been for Adam’s change of heart.

Zemo’s knuckles turned white when Minerva spoke of what happened to her. Anger consumed him and he wished he had been there to protect her. Seeing his distress Minerva placed her hand on his, gently squeezing, “I’m okay, Helmut. I’m here now and we all made it out. There were many close calls, but we’re all alive and that’s what matters.”

Taking her hand, Zemo brought it up to brush his lips against her fingers, softly kissing her knuckles. “I don’t know what I would've done if I lost you, Minnie. I—-,” he stops himself to exhale, squeezing his eyes shut, “I would’ve found a way to fly across the galaxy to avenge you.”

“I know you would,” she murmurs, removing her hand but positioning herself in his lap. Arms snake around his neck, pulling him so they were inches apart. “I’d expect nothing less. Also I’d be a hypocrite considering I would do the same for you.” A playful smirk formed, “I was already plotting when Ross let you get captured by those bastards last year. Had it ended any other way, Ross would cease to exist.”

Zemo snickered, “I see we haven’t really changed completely despite our friends believing the opposite. Neither of us hesitating to return to old ways if it comes down to such circumstances.”

She smirks, “No, I don’t suppose we haven’t.”

“What a pair we are,” leaning in, his lips meet hers in a soft caress. Warmth seeping through his veins. That effortless high he believed he’d never have again after the loss of his family.

But he found it with a Goddess in the stars. Where love swept across the galaxy.

When they pull away after a moment, Zemo keeps his forehead against hers. Gold meeting brown. “I’m not sure I can let you go now, liebling. At least not for a while.”

“You never have to anymore,” her words have him startled, the man pulling away slightly to get a better look at her.

“What are you saying?”

Minerva’s gaze turns soft, though there’s slight nervousness, “After everything we all realized something. We found the family we were searching for, but some of us needed to find ourselves. Peter’s here on Earth to find his grandfather. Mantis is off on her own adventure. Drax and Nebula are on Knowhere to help raise the children we saved from the High Evolutionary. Rocket and Groot are leading a new era of the Guardians. And me,” she stops, emitting a gaze full of love that takes Zemo’s breath away. “I’d like to be here. With you, Helmut. If you’ll have me.”

If his heart could explode from the happiness Zemo was feeling it would. Tears were threatening to prick his eyes, the Baron willing himself to remain composed. “Oh, Schatz,” he croaked, cupping the side of her jaw. “I should be the one asking you that. Of course I’ll have you. I love you more than every star in the galaxy.” With that he kisses her, putting all his love and passion it causes her own eyes to water.

“I love you too,” she kisses him again. They remain on the couch, falling asleep eventually curled up in each other’s embrace. Their last thoughts filled with joy as they awaited the new adventure on the horizon.

That’s how things usually work in S.H.I.E.L.D., at any rate; you do your work as a solo agent and apologize for any red tape you crossed while you were out in the field. Still, you suppose you never did something as drastic as liberating the man who fractured the Avengers into pieces.

Sam is, understandably, reacting poorly to the news, especially when confronted with a newly freed Baron Zemo face to face. From your vantage point hidden in the shadows and out of their lines of sight, you can see every concerned furrow of his brow.

“Why could this possibly be a good idea? Sure, maybe the guy could have some insight on tracking down supersoldiers, but I’m finding it difficult to believe he’s not going to betray us. Are you forgetting what he did?”

Bucky sighs. “I’m not forgetting that. I’m also not forgetting that we need help locating the Flag Smashers, or a lot of people other than the Avengers are going to get hurt.”

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fatigued from the weight of Zemo’s additional responsibility. “And how are we supposed to find and fight the Flag Smashers while also keeping an eye on Zemo?”

Bucky takes a half step forward, pleased that the conversation has finally gone the way he’d hoped. “Actually, I already thought about that and got some additional security.”

Sam looks suspicious, likely because Bucky’s last great idea involved getting Zemo out of his cell. “Who’s your security?”

This seems as good a time for a dramatic entrance as any. You step forward from the shadows, allowing the light to finally illuminate your face and expose you as having been here all along.

“That would be me. I’m Y/N L/N, and I’ve been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for a very long time. Making sure people don’t stab you in the back is kind of my specialty.”

Sam startles slightly at your abrupt entrance, although Bucky just looks as if he’s been expecting something like this. Zemo takes off his borrowed prison guard’s cap the moment his eyes land on you, the picture of a perfect gentleman. Even after Sam starts talking, the baron’s gaze still remains captivated by you.

“Y/N L/N, huh? I think I remember Steve saying your name once in passing.” Sam says.

You nod. “I’ve worked with the Avengers before, most notably helping Steve find Bucky when he first turned up as the Winter Soldier. You don’t have to trust me as much as he did, but you can count on the fact that I’m not going to let you die.”

Sam stares at you for a moment longer, then shrugs. “Alright. You know what, alright. Supposing this plan works, we’re probably going to need all the help we can get. We leave tomorrow morning.”

Sounds good to you. Sam seems to accept your presence pretty well, especially after you have to save their collective asses from a shootout about half an hour later. Bucky seems happy that he’s at least temporarily alleviated Sam’s wrath over breaking Zemo out, so a tentatively good mood has stretched over the group.

The reaction to your presence that surprises you the most is Zemo. You assumed he would be as unnervingly calculating with you as he is Sam and Bucky, or at least talk to you with some form of passive aggressive nonsense seeing as your being here means it’ll be harder for him to get away with whatever mad scheme he no doubt has planned, but that’s not the case.

In fact, he seems more open to you than anyone else, especially when he realized that you could speak a little Sokovian. As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent assigned to help with Sokovia during Ultron, and as someone who wants to make sure Wanda Maximoff was in their corner, you figured it couldn’t hurt to have a basic understanding of the language.

You didn’t anticipate it coming in handy now, though. You and Zemo have long conversations on his plane, much to the suspicion of Sam and Bucky, but you couldn’t care less about their opinions of you. You’re still saving their lives, so they can think whatever they want. Besides, Zemo gets this soft smile whenever he hears you slipping over his native syllables, and it fascinates you enough that you want to see it again and again.

Truth be told, you feel a lot closer to Zemo than you strictly should. You still keep him at arm’s length, as per an agent’s tradition, but you have quiet talks as you walk throughout a variety of cities trying to track down the Flag Smashers. Some of these chats happen in Sokovian, others, when Sam and Bucky are getting a little too antsy, are in English so they can hear mild parlor conversation and have their fears averted for the time being.

Zemo is nicer than you thought he would be, maybe that’s what’s getting to you. He asks about your life as an agent, although he only uses questions that have been carefully tailored to not force you to give anything away. Zemo knows that the second you suspect he’s asking around for federal information, you’ll stop talking to him, so he steers clear of damaging topics. It’s a kindness that he does not extend to Bucky, although that could just be his inherent dislike of supersoldiers.

Take tonight, for instance. There will be an expedition into Flag Smashers territory tomorrow, and all signals point to it ending in a fight. You’ve checked your weapons about a dozen times over, and scouted out the area as best you could, but all you can do now is sit tight and wait for the day to come.

You’re leaning against a marble-topped peninsula in the latest hideout, staring at the glass idly placed in your hand. It’s probably not the best to be drinking before a fight, but the mission won’t happen for a couple of hours and it’s only a few tablespoons, anyway. Not that you’ve managed to drink even a swallow of it, though- your nerves are too strong for that. You’re used to impossible missions, but usually you know that death or capture won’t risk your job. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t know you’re here, so you can’t afford to slip up.

Soft footsteps sound across the hall, and moments later the door cracks open and Zemo appears, hovering over the threshold before realizing that you’re here alone and heading inside.

He pours himself a small glass before turning to you. “I cannot imagine the life you lead. Does it not grow tiresome to always risk your life for someone else’s fight?”

You shrug. “If I have to go to war for the lives of the people I care about, it’s always my fight.”

You hazard a glance up, and when you do, Zemo is looking at you with the same soft smile that you typically associate with you saving his life or using some Sokovian phrase because you heard him using it first.

“That’s a very generous sentiment,” he says, taking a step closer to you.

You let him come. “I can be a very generous person. On occasion.”

Zemo laughs, and you think it might be the first time you’ve heard him laugh without a motive, like he’s just a man who can find you funny, not a baron who needs to win to do anything worthwhile.

Then a troubling thought occurs to him, and his smile drops from his face as cleanly as blood falling from a blade.

“Stay safe during this mission tomorrow. You’re no supersoldier, and you can’t heal as easily.”

You arch a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever needed the reminder. I’m perfectly aware of my own limits.”

Zemo shakes his head. “I do not mean it as an insult, Y/N, just a warning. Perhaps I do not want to see you hurt.”

You had turned away slightly when he brought up the fact that you weren’t a supersoldier, and now he lays a hand on your arm, gently keeping you close. If you wanted to, you could reach forward and break several bones in his hand, just because he dared to touch you.

Instead, you stay. “I will watch myself if you do,” you offer.

He nods once. “It seems like a fair deal.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly at the earnest shrewdness in his gaze, and raise your glass in agreement. “A fair deal indeed.”

Like it or not, the morning of the mission still comes. You’ll be infiltrating a building with known Flag Smasher activity in the hopes of tracking down Karli Morgenthau long enough to figure out what she wants and where she’ll be going next.

The complex is no doubt teaming with enemy fighters, so stealth is of the utmost importance. Sam and Bucky are approaching from the north side, so Sam can get close to Karli. You and Zemo, however, will come from the south part of the building, searching for computers and hard drives or any source of information that you can take home with you.

The soles of your shoes crunch over gravel and broken asphalt, although you make no other sound as you approach. Gun in hand, you make your way carefully to an unsecured area of the complex, Zemo right behind you. There’s a door partially obscured under a low-hanging portion of the roof, and you’re able to kick it in without too much noise or difficulty.

Wordlessly, you start to move down the hall, and Zemo follows you. A few times, the two of you have to duck behind a large concrete column or head back down a corridor to avoid detection, but the job is done and you remain unseen by any and all Flag Smashers.

This might be a little too much good luck for you. You have yet to see a mission where everything went according to plan. Sure enough, your worries are proved correct when you hear something that sounds like a gunshot echoing out from the other side of the building, followed by ear-piercing klaxons screaming to life.

Bucky’s voice comes crackling in over your comms about half a second later. “They’ve spotted us.”

You grimace. “Yeah, I think I got that.”

Sam sighs amid a crackle of static. “Not helpful, Y/N. Get out now.”

You shake your head, forgetting for a moment that he can’t see you. “There’s a tech room around the corner. Give me thirty seconds and I can get what we need.”

Sam and Bucky erupt into immediate declarations of disapproval, but Zemo’s already beaten them to it. He takes your arm, pulling you into the shadows of a nearby corridor.

“You cannot risk your life like this. We have to call off the mission.”

He’s not wrong about the dangers, but you’ve been in enough situations like this to know that when you’re in, you can’t afford to back out. Leaving now will just make it harder to get that information on the Flag Smashers.

So, you give him your best attempt at a smile. “We need this. Trust me, alright? I’ll be back in a minute.”

You just have enough time to see his face twist into shock before you’re turning and running away back down the hall. There’s no point in trying to remain undercover anymore, as the Flag Smashers obviously know that you’re here, so you skid into the tech room without a second thought.

Luckily, the Flag Smashers only intended on being here temporarily, so they haven’t set up many protocols in place to keep you out. You shove a flash drive into one of the main computers, and start the largest file transfer you can manage.

They’ve already started to catch on to your plan, so you keep your gun aimed at the door, one hand on the trigger and the other poised over the flash drive, ready to take it and run at a moment’s notice. A few guards start pouring in, and you take them down as fast as you can.

You’re still just one person, though, and even if they’re slowed down by the one doorway, you’re going to run out of bullets eventually. The computer behind you beeps, signaling that the file transfer is complete, and you look behind you to retrieve the flash drive.

One moment. That’s how long you were looking away, barely any time at all but just enough for another Flag Smasher to get through the door without you noticing. When you turn back, flash drive in hand, they’re already pulling the trigger.

The bullet hits about a second later. The impact makes it feel as if you’ve been hit by a truck, and you’re pushed backwards on legs that no longer seem to support your weight. Blood is pouring out from the hole in your shirt, and it is not good in the slightest. You manage to fire at the man who’d shot you, granting you a temporary reprieve, but it’s not enough.

Another pair of guards appear in the door, and you know that this is it. You’re going to die from this bullet wound, and there’s no way you can take down both of these guys, what with your vision already tunneling.

As you watch, though, two gunshots ring out and the men fall to the floor. Standing behind them, lowering a smoking gun, is Zemo. His face constricts with horror when he takes in the sight of you, covered in blood and on the ground.

He’s by your side in a second, gently pulling you into his arms. “I need you to stay with me, agent. Just for a little longer.”

You should respond, but you’ve lost so much blood that you can’t quite force your tongue to move. Zemo notices this, and you watch as he desperately calls Sam and Bucky over his comms, asking for medical help.

He picks you up, carrying you through the crowded halls. Zemo has to stop just shy of the door, though, because more Flag Smashers have massed outside the exits, intent on choking you out and not allowing your group to escape.

Zemo’s hand is on your face, gently propping up your head in an attempt to keep you conscious.

“Keep your eyes open, alright? I need you to stay with me for just a little longer.”

He sighs suddenly, the weight of a thousand suns seemingly on his shoulders. “I don’t know why you mean so much to me, but you do. I don’t know why I need you more than breath, more than life, but I do. Just stay with me. Please.”

You want to do as he says, really you do, if just so you can ask him what that means more than anything else. The world is growing suspiciously dark, though, and as much as you try to pay attention to Zemo’s words, you can’t.

You wake to the sound of machines beeping and quiet voices. You hurt all over with the simmering kind of ache that tells you that you’re at least not about to immediately die, although recovery will be hell.

You keep your eyes shut, recognizing two of the voices as Sam and Bucky. They’re talking about the mission you just finished, and the data you were able to retrieve. They appear to be just on their way out, though, as their voices soon fade away and are cut off entirely by a closing door.

Another voice sounds now, calming in its tranquility.

“You can stop feigning sleep now, angel. They’re gone, and you have no more information to overhear that you couldn’t gain just as easily by asking me.”

You smile and open your eyes, revealing Zemo sitting in a chair by your side. You’re in a bed hooked up to an IV, and although there are a considerable amount of bandages wrapped around your midriff, you think that the danger has likely passed.

“Perhaps I like being able to listen in. You shouldn’t fault me for that.”

He chuckles softly. “I have no fault with it, I just think that there are easier ways to go about it. You were shot, you shouldn’t be straining yourself over secrets that I would gladly tell you.”

There’s a warning tone in his voice as he mentions the fact that you were shot, and you grimace.

“Alright, I know I was injured, but I completed the mission. That’s always the primary goal of stuff like this, above the health of the agents when necessary.”

Zemo sighs, running a hand absentmindedly through his hair. “I don’t deny that this is what you were trained to do, but for those of us who would rather not see you rushed into medical care, I wouldn’t mind if you changed a few prerogatives.”

He pauses a moment, then continues. “I meant what I said. I need you alive. I need you with me.”

You weren’t expecting such an honest confession, and it stuns you. Carefully, you mention that you need him as well, but the rush of painkillers no doubt injected into you by happy-go-lucky doctors is getting to your head.

Zemo notices this, and smiles. “Save your strength, love. We can talk about this later.”

You want to talk about it now, while your mind is still firmly entrenched in the topic, but rest does sound rather good. Your eyes flicker shut again, and the last sensation you recall before slipping beneath a sea of sleep is Zemo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. After that, there is nothing at all but a feeling enchanting every one of your dreams that you are blissfully, unimaginably happy.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby spoke as she came into view. She was an expensively dressed woman with a short white pixie cut. 

Zemo sat down opposite her but you remained next to Sam. 

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo waved his finger as he spoke. It was a small yet dominant motion directed towards you. You tried not to clench your jaw as you walked towards him. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way over to Zemo. “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?” Zemo held out his hand to you, guiding you to stand behind him.  “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby cocked her head towards Sam. 

Sam’s only response was a quick nod of his head. Selby purred at Sam, a wolfish smile on her face. 

“What’s the offer?” Selby turned back to Zemo. Her eyes flickered up to you before landing back on Zemo’s face. You weren’t stupid you knew what her gaze meant. 

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo pushed himself out of his chair. You watched him cross behind Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky's shoulders. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.” 

Selby grinned widely as Zemo wobbled Bucky’s chin with his forefinger and thumb, showing just how under control the ‘Winter Soldier’ was. 

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby seemed to be convinced. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.”

Zemo returned to his seat before Selby continued. 

“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.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked. 

“Oh. The bread crumbs 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 rose from her chair, finding a place beside Sam as she very openly let her eyes roll down your body now that you were in her full view. 

“What else do you desire?” Zemo questioned. He had clocked onto Selby’s behaviour and didn’t really need to ask to know what the answer was going to be.  

“Her.” Selby pointed you out. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she awaited Zemo’s response. 

“No, no, no.” Zemo tutted, holding out his hand for you to take. “This little bird only sings for me.” Zemo guided you round the side of his chair and pulled you gently onto his lap. You crossed your legs as you tried not to seem uncomfortable. The scent of the Baron’s cologne, mixed with his strong grip on your waist was making your heart race. You had never been this close to Zemo before and now you were sat on his knee with his arm around you. 

“Well, you’ll make her sing for me or you won’t be getting what you want now, Baron, will ya?” Selby wasn’t playing games. She folded her arms across her chest, cocking her eyebrows at Zemo. 

Zemo titled his head as he thought. 

You felt yourself tense up when he placed a cool leather clad hand on your thigh. His fingers started to draw circles on your skin, edging your skirt higher, drawing Selby’s eyes down to your legs. 

“She is very dear to me.” Zemo stated. He retracted his hand from your thigh to brush your hair from your shoulder, his finger traced a line from your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. Zemo, being so close, could see the goosebumps that covered your skin at his touch.  

“Unless you have something better to offer other than your two play things, Baron, I suggest you hand them over to me... unless you don’t want the whereabouts of Dr Nagel.” Selby let her smile drop. 

“I will––” Zemo was cut short by Sam’s phone going off. 

“Answer it.” Selby suddenly lost all interest in the deal and only desired to prove the authenticity of the Smiling Tiger. “On speaker.” 

That’s where things went wrong. 

For the rest of the trip in Madripoor, you didn’t get the time to confront yourself and Zemo on what happened back there. 

You were so confused to why you reacted the way you did. You had never been attracted to Zemo before but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smelt, the way his breath tickled against your arm, the way the heat radiated out from under his thick coat. 

You knew he was thinking about it too. 

Every time you let yourself glance over at him, he was watching you and not in the same way as he usually would. You knew too well that Zemo often studied his surroundings like a hawk. He was silent and observant; he always knew where he would go next and he often watched you, Sam and Bucky as if he were calculating your next moves. 

It wasn’t until you arrived in Latvia that you were confronted by your feelings again. 

You were sat at the island in the kitchen as you ran your hands over your face and hair. You were tired. 

“You should rest.” Zemo’s voice suddenly snuck up on you. 

He had been so quiet walking into the kitchen that you hadn't even noticed he was there. 

“I should but insomnia kinda comes with the job.” You sat up, trying not to act any different from how you usually would. 

“Ah. My time in a cell has acquainted me with such the dilemma.” Zemo confessed as he moved towards the cupboards on the back wall. 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t help but watch his hands as they reached for the coffee pot, his fingers gripping it lightly. You could still recall the feeling of the cool leather on your thigh, his touch climbing higher as he pushed your skirt up...

“Coffee?” Zemo offered, interrupting your thoughts as he raised a mug and an eyebrow at you. 

“Please.” You folded your hands together as you leant on the island. 

There was a brief comfortable silence as Zemo fixed up some coffee for you both. He could feel your eyes on him but he didn’t say anything. He just let the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk as he poured you a cup. He let the smirk drop when he turned to face you.

He slid the cup along the countertop and you thanked him quietly. He pushed a thin smile onto his face for a second before returning to his usual stoic expression. 

“There was something I wished to discuss with you actually.” Zemo announced as he picked up his own cup. 

You almost choked on your drink at the words but you hid behind your mug, hoping he didn’t notice. He did.

“About what?” You asked. 

“I wanted to apologise for Madripoor.” Zemo surprised you with that. 

“Apologise?” You were confused to what he was talking about. 

“I am aware that it was merely a role, that we were undercover, but I touched you without your consent. I wanted to apologise for when we were with Selby.”

You were completely shocked. You didn’t not expect this from Zemo at all. 

“It’s okay. We all have to do stuff we don't want to do on missions like these.” You tried to brush it off. After all, Bucky had to become the Winter Soldier and Sam had to drink a cobra’s heart back in Madripoor. There was definitely worse things that could’ve happened. 

“I never said I didn’t want to do it. I am simply apologising for not asking for permission first.” Zemo’s eyes were glued to your face as he sipped his coffee. He was watching for a reaction. 

You felt your mouth go dry, you tried to swallow as you began to rise from your seat. 

“Uh, t-thanks for the coffee, Zemo but...” You tried grabbing your mug but you only knocked it to the floor by accident. 

“Shit!” You hissed as you bent down, picking up the broken bits. You felt your heart racing from the look Zemo had just given you.

Zemo rushed around the island with a rag, he placed it over the split coffee before taking hold of your wrist to stop you from picking up the pieces. 

Electricity shot up your arm and your head snapped up to meet his eyes. 

“No use crying over spilt coffee.” Zemo muttered, a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth. 

“I-I wasn’t––”

“––Is there a particular reason you are so jumpy tonight?” Zemo inquired. 

You rose back to standing; Zemo let your wrist go as you did but followed your action. 

The air was thick between you as you withheld your answer. 

There was no way you could admit you were worried of being close to him because of the undeniable pull he had on you since that night. 

“I think...” Zemo stepped over the soaked rag which only made you take a step back. “...You enjoyed being touched and now you are confused to why.”

Your chest began to rise and fall heavily as Zemo continued to walk towards you until your back hit the wall behind you. 

“But forgive me if I am wrong.” Zemo held his hands up with a smile, taking his final few steps until he was close enough for his cologne to engulf the air around you.

“You are.” You whispered but your voice had failed you in sounding convincing. 

“Is that right, little bird?” Zemo used the pet name he had given you in Selby's office. He lifted his hand to brush your hair from your cheek behind your ear. “Because I believe you haven’t stop thinking about it. Just as I haven't.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You only just breathed out your words. If Zemo hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard them. 

“Don’t you?” Zemo titled his head at you. “Because I am at liberty to remind you that I once worked for Sokivian intelligence. It was my job for a long time to study people, learn them, read them.” Zemo let his eyes drop down to your body before coming back to meet your eyes. “I can tell how a person is feeling just from observing their body. The way they move. The way they are breathing.” Zemo placed his hand in the centre of your chest where your silver necklace sat. The metal burned against your skin underneath Zemo’s warm flesh. 

Your slow deep breaths lifted Zemo’s hand up and down as you stared back at him. 

“I can feel your heart racing.” Zemo uttered. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You shook your head as your eyes flickered to the man’s lip for just a second. 

“Good.” Zemo smirked. 

Suddenly Zemo was ripped away from you. 

Bucky had teared Zemo back and pushed him across the room. Zemo staggered backwards before standing and adjusting his sweater from how Bucky had grabbed him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bucky growled at Zemo with a look in his eye that could kill. 

“I was merely having a conversation with (Y/n).” Zemo shrugged, acting as if everything was perfectly innocent. 

“Oh yeah it looked like a real polite conversation with (Y/n) backed up in a corner and your hands on her!” Sam was stood behind Bucky. The both of them were squaring up in front of Zemo to protect you. 

“I didn’t need your help.” You stepped forward, trying to intervene. 

“You put your hands on her again; I won’t stop myself next time. I’ll turn you into a new coat.” Bucky warned Zemo as he ignored you. 

“I apologise.” Zemo lifted his hands up in defence. 

“No.” Sam pointed back to you. “Apologise to her.” 

Zemo turned his head to you. When your eyes met, he smirked just ever so slightly, you knew the boys didn’t notice at least. 

“I apologise, (Y/n).” The way your name sounded in Zemo’s mouth made your stomach flip. 

“It’s fine.” You said before pushing past Bucky and Sam. You hated it when they played protective big brothers and you didn’t even need saving... You think...

Heat spread through your cheeks as his hand met your neck, fingers drawing over your jaw and leading your face closer to his. His lips curled into a grin at the sight of you like that. It took so little for him to get a reaction out of you, and you couldn't help but hate him a little bit for it.

His lips pressed against yours, gently, and with restraint. Your breath hitched, hands finding their ways to the soft material of his robe. Just the thought of him close to you like that made your head spin. He kissed you painfully slowly, taking his time with you before pulling away. He smiled as you desperately searched him, clutching his robe until his lips finally crashed against yours. He tasted of the drink he still held in his free hand. Fingers pushed through your hair as he slid his glass onto the counter behind you, his hand making its way to your hip as his body pressed closer to yours.

Your hands landed against his chest, eliciting a low noise from him as his lips trailed down your jaw and toward the nape of your neck. He lowered his other hand to your hip, fingers sinking into you as you felt his breath feather against your skin. Leaning against the counter, you inhaled sharply as his lips slowly returned to yours, your hands pushing through his hair.

His eyes widened slightly as you pushed him over and against the hard surface instead, leaning into him as his lips slowly twisted into a grin. He was so smug, you thought, his eyes boring curiously into yours.

"Y/N?" He said suddenly, nearly making you jump. You almost physically had to shake the thoughts from your brain before you could even muster up the courage to look at him, as if he'd somehow manage to read your mind.

"Hmm?" You managed, almost too embarrassed to look at him. Everyone fixated on you, waiting for some explanation. They sat across the room, you leaning against the counter that had been the setting to your previous fantasy.

"Are you alright?" He asked, tilting his head forward.

You quickly nodded, hoping it wasn't too obvious. He only smiled, and thankfully, the focus quickly was taken from you as conversation continued. You let out a quiet sigh, kicking yourself for even tagging along at all. You knew better.

He was Zemo. You had no business being infatuated with him, you knew, but you couldn't help it. Not when he talked to you the way he did, or even looked at you the way he did. You were sure he knew exactly how you felt, always eyeing you darkly when no one else was looking. He'd corner you when he had an opportunity, close enough for you to smell the expensive cologne that lingered on his skin, his voice quiet and hushed as he spoke to you far more intimately than he did anyone else. Within a single interaction, you knew he was evil — just in a different way than you expected.

Yet, he was always on your mind. You couldn't help it. Even if there was no need to see him, you were sure you would find some excuse to come around. You had tried to put him out of your mind, but that only seemed to make things worse. And you were sure that even if you could do so successfully, he would manage to undo all of that anyway.

"Fuck, Zemo, don't stop." You pant heavily against his ear, faintly hearing your phone ringing from the bedside table.

Zemo reaches down and grips your face. "Focus on me, liebling, nothing else." He breathes out, keeping his eyes fixated on yours. "Is that clear, princess?"

Nodding in response, you can feel the coil inside of you tightening as a moan escapes your lips. "Helmut, I," You stutter, only to feel Zemo pick up his pace, slamming his dick in and out of you faster.

"Hold it, just think what would happen if James and Sam walked in, seeing you begging to cum beneath me." Zemo chuckles, feeling your nails claw at his back, begging for your release.

"Helmut, please," You try not to cry, but you can't hold on for much longer as he continues to thrust into you.

"Cum for me, Y/n." Zemo demands. "You can let go, princess." He softly tells you, watching you become undone beneath him, causing a smile to grow on his face as sweat gleams across your forehead.

Slowly pulling out from you, Zemo moans as he pulls off the condom and heads to the bathroom.

When he returns, he can feel his heartbeat accelerating at the sight of you lying in his bed, the sheets around you creased, your legs still parted and your eyes remaining closed.

"Y/n?" Zemo speaks up, watching you slowly opening your eyes only to see him holding a towel for you. "How about a bath, liebling?"

Smiling, you shuffle off of the bed with Zemo's help, his hand remaining in yours as you walk into the lavish bathroom, the tub close to full already.

"You better not try and escape whilst I'm relaxing, Baron." You quickly comment, looking over your shoulder, watching Zemo leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

"On the contrary," Pushing himself off from the door frame, Zemo reaches out and brushes his fingers along your shoulders, feeling you shudder in response. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you." He whispers into your ear.

You quickly turn around, looking up at those brown eyes intently. "Helmut," You start, but Zemo shushes you before you can object.

"I mean it, Y/n." Zemo tells you, lifting his hand up to cup your cheek softly. "Now, come, the bath might overflow if you don't get in." He chuckles and brushes past you to turn the tap off.

"Thank you, Helmut." You mutter as you climb into the warm water, letting out a sigh of contentment whilst you lower yourself and close your eyes.

"How is it, mi schatz?" Zemo knows it's the perfect temperature, noticing how you're fully relaxed, a rare occurrence since he's known you.

Humming in response, you open one eye, noticing he's still stood there in a robe. "Why don't you join me? There's room for two I'm sure." You tease, bringing your legs close to your chest.

"Are you sure?" You can tell he's hesitant, but once you nod he removes his robe and motions for you to move forward, allowing him to slot in behind you.

The water spills over the edge at the sudden movement, but you lie back against Zemo's chest, your wet hair brushed over your shoulder as his hands settle on your thighs.

"Can you tell me a story?" You speak up after a moment of silence settled between you both.

Smiling down at you, Zemo nods. "What would you like to hear?"

"I, I'd like to know more about Sokovia. I know I wasn't there when," You trail off, knowing you don't have to explain yourself. "but, it was your home, part of who you are Helmut and I'd like, no I, I'd love to know about it."

You can feel your heart begin to hammer in your chest at Zemo's prolonged silence behind you. Yet, you can't bring yourself to glance up to see what he's thinking.

However, Zemo is trying to remain composed. "Of course," He eventually answers, hearing the breath of relief escape your lips. "well, when I was a child, my father had a farm which we used to visit on weekends,"

*

Pulling the soft robe tightly around you, you couldn't help but struggle to keep your eyes open as you wandered around the kitchen.

"Tired?" Zemo can hear you yawn before you're able to reply, listening to you laugh at yourself whilst he leans against the kitchen counter. "Why don't you lie down, you know I'm not going anywhere." He reassures you, seeing your limbs growing heavy as you shuffle around the counter to stand in front of him.

"I'll be fine, the boys won't be much longer." You mumble through another yawn, feeling your body craving sleep after that relaxing bath. "I blame you, Helmut." Pointing to him, you try your best to glare at him, but the sound of Zemo laughing makes it impossible.

Motioning to the sofa, Zemo rests his hand on your lower back in an attempt to guide you to the said sofa before you fall over. "Now, I'll be right back, I promise." He mutters as you pull on a cushion, burying it beneath your head. Leaning down, Zemo gently brushes your damp hair out from your face, taking a moment to admire how truly beautiful you are and kisses your forehead delicately.

"You are joining me, right?" You mumble through thick sleep, not even able to open your eyes to see Zemo nod as his heart melts.

"Of course, liebling. But I must change first." He assures you before retreating upstairs, knowing there's a fair bit of mess to clean up.

Whilst occupied in the bathroom and you in a deep sleep, neither of you hear the doors opening in a panic.

"Oh thank god." Sam sighs in relief to see you curled up on the sofa, not taking into account the robe you're wearing.

"Where's Zemo?" Bucky tenses up as he scours his peripheral where Zemo is nowhere to be seen. "Check on Y/n. Make sure she's not been given anything."

Rushing toward you, Sam pauses at the sound of footsteps approaching the main living space of the apartment.

"Ah, I was wondering where you two might've been." Zemo walks in, wearing a matching robe to yours as his hair is slicked back. "Did you have a pleasant adventure?" He smiles at the pair who only glare back in response.

"What did you do to Y/n." Bucky snarls, encroaching on Zemo's personal space.

"Nothing." Zemo answers, holding his hands up. "She could barely keep her eyes open so I insisted she took a nap." He explains, glancing over to your sleeping form, remembering how mere hours ago you were screaming his name.

"I doubt that." Sam comments, kneeling down in front of you as he shakes you lightly. "Y/n, come on." He mutters, causing you to stir.

"Helmut?" You whisper, unaware of Sam snapping his head around to Bucky and Zemo.

"Did she just?" Bucky doesn't even finish his question before Sam nods. Averting his focus back to Zemo, Bucky can't stop his frustration from rising. "What did you do to Y/n." He asks once again now clenching his fists tightly.

Opening your eyes, you rub them quickly at the sound of commotion. "What's going on?" Sitting upright, you blink a few times to see both Sam and Bucky standing by Zemo with heavy frowns. "Hey guys." You wave, covering your mouth as you yawn again.

"How long has this been going on?" Bucky demands, evidently disappointed as he looks over at you.

"James, please calm-" Zemo starts, but Bucky grabs the empty whiskey glass beside him and throws it against the wall, causing you to jump whilst Zemo remains stoic.

"How long." He asks again, not daring to take his eyes off of Zemo.

"Since Madripoor." You speak up, keeping your eyes trained on the ground as you tug on your robe. "Bucky,"

"I don't wanna hear it." Bucky cuts you off. "We can talk about this tomorrow." He sighs and heads back out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"I'll go talk to him." Sam comments. "I, I don't agree with whatever this is, but I trust you Y/n, and Bucky does too." He nods to you before following after Bucky, leaving you and Zemo alone once more.

"Y/n," Zemo starts, but you can't help but crumble.

Tears start to fall from your eyes without hesitation as you curl up on the ground. Zemo sits beside you, wrapping his arms around you and turns you into his chest. "It's going to be alright, liebling." He hushes you, running his fingers through your hair.

"What if they won't forgive me, Helmut?" You hate to imagine what could happen, but you knew your actions would have eventual consequences.

"Oh, Y/n," Zemo sighs, wiping away your tears. "I know they'll come around. They're your friends after all." He admits, not adding the fact he might not be around for much longer. "Come, let's go to bed, yes?" He suggests and helps you to your feet.

Walking together in silence, you enter his bedroom again only to see the bed made with fresh sheets.

"Did you?" You look up at him to see a light blush crossing his cheeks. "You knew I'd end up back in your bed, huh?" You joke playfully, listening to Zemo chuckle whilst he shakes his head.

"I didn't know, but I'd hoped it would be the case." He shrugs his shoulder before pulling the sheets back and climbs in alongside you. "Now, whatever the morning brings, we'll face it together." He whispers into your lips before kissing you softly, never wanting to forget any of these moments with you.

Pulling away, you sigh. "You promise?" You whisper, just about making out his expression in the moonlight.

"I promise." He smiles at you once more before you bury your face into his chest, falling asleep within minutes whilst he remains wide awake. Zemo knows there are watchful eyes never leaving him and won't until he's back where he belongs, without you by his side.

Zemo had been trying to get in contact with you ever since he had gotten out of prison. It was hard to slip away unnoticed by Sam and Bucky but he had to find you. Eventually he would. Throughout the couple of days he had slowly been able to narrow down your location.

You were the only person he had left and it was a wonder you had managed to stay hidden from the people who hated him. There were a lot of those. He couldn’t blame them really but he had to admit to himself that he shouldn’t have goten you in the mix. If the government hadn’t been able to find Zemo’s girlfriend, how was he supposed to?

He did though. 

Of course.

He had your location narrowed down to somewhere near where Karli was, which was mighty convenient. As Sam and Bucky searched for Karli and her gang, he was able to slide away and search for you. He still hadn’t found you by the time that John Walker had found them and for that matter, the Dora Milaje. All of which wanted him to be elsewhere.

You were standing in the street, flipping through a map. You were still new here. You had to constantly be moving ever since Zemo was caught. You had been here there, and everywhere since. You were finally thinking about settling down for yourself when you word had reached you that he had broken out. 

You were standing on the street when you saw the sewer lid shake off to the side. You raised an eyebrow as it moved to the side and someone crawled out. You pursed your lip and shook your head as Zemo stood up straight, brushing off his clothes from the grime. He was facing away from you. 

You crossed your arm and threw your map book at him. It hit his back and fell to the ground. He quickly, reflexively, grabbed a knife and turned around to see who had thrown the book. 

At the sight of you he smiled, dropping his tension filled act. He put his knife back in it’s spot. 

“I’ve found you,” he said slyly. You rolled your eyes but you felt a relief you hadn’t felt in a while.

“Why were you in the sewers?” 

“That is a long story.” Suddenly, there was a loud crash down the street. You heard a lot of commotion and gave him a stern look before grabbing his hand and starting to run away. He quickly followed you to your home that you had just gotten, a small place in a tall building. You closed and locked the door behind you.

You looked over at him and took a deep breath. 

“Do you know what that was?” He looked up to you and for a moment, it all overwhelmed him. There was always a lot going on for him but he hadn’t truly seen you in a long time. At the sight of you he realized how much he had really missed you. Not to mention, whatever had really gone down with John Walker, Bucky, Sam and the super serum group down the street. He could lose you so quickly. 

“I don’t,” He walked up to you and hugged you tightly. You held him close and breathed him in. After a moment, you coughed and backed away.

“You smell like sewer,” you told him. He shook his head and kissed you. You kissed him back, ignoring the smell you had missed him that bad. You put your hand on his cheek and moved forward to lean into him. He held your sides and there was another crash down the street. You turned, looking out the window.

“How did you find me?” 

“Followed the trail of the best pastries,” he joked dryly. He stood beside you and looked out the window.

“I don’t think whatever is going on down there is good,” you said honestly.

“The Dora Milaje are here to take me back. So is the American government. Whatever has happened down there, we aren’t involved,” he explained. 

“We?” you asked. He nodded. 

“Yes we. Now that I’ve found you, I won’t be letting you go again. In case one of us goes back to a jail. The years on the run have treated you well and they aren’t over,” he explained. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“I always keep your favorite with me, just in case.” You gestured to the small cabinets. He walked over and took the bottle out.

“You’re a Goddess,” he muttered, pouring himself a glass. 

“We have to go Helmut,” you told him, leaning out the window now. People were up and running, something really bad was happening. “We’re in the thick of it.” He glanced outside and through a deep breath, nodded. You were right.