Baron Zemo - Tumblr Posts

This meme template is just too good guys

Feel free to use but give credit please! :)

Also TFATWS finale got me emotional🥲

you are a dancing queen

the floor is Sam Wilson

Love him as Nikki Lauda in Rush ♥ 

Photo by: Jens Koch

Zemo: the avengers took my family and my country but they couldn’t take my drip 💯😈

Well, someone had to do it...

Ah yes, I'm gonna fight for Bucky's precious hair 💕

♡⊹ 🎀 • Barón Zemo 💕 [ ig: armenday ]

SIR THIS IS INVITING

caniputmyheadthere

I hate that Tumblr has brainwashed me into being obsessed with Zemo.

But, oh well

Maniacal Me - Helmut Zemo

Alright so, this is something I wrote. Not gonna say why cause that's my fuckin' business. But if you're even the slightest bit squeamish, absolutely skip this one cause it's the darkest thing I've even written in my life so...yeah

Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING, mentions of sexual assault, roofies, Dark!Zemo (but not towards Reader), revenge, extreme violence and graphic descriptions of torture, stalking, drugging, castration, and sounding as a form of torture

~~~~~~~~~~

Zemo's mouth upturned into a fond smile as he heard the front door to his house open and close, signaling that you were finally back from your night out.

Zemo marked his place in the book he was reading, sitting up from the couch to greet you as you made your way deeper into the home, slightly furrowing his brows as you barely even noticed him walked towards you, only looking up at him as he spoke up, "How was your night, Liebe?" He asked softly, instantly noticing how you were stumbling in your heels.

Your gaze was distant as you replied, "Good. It was good. I'm just...really tired." You chuckled weakly just barely slurring your words, leaning up against the wall of the foyer to remove your heels, sighing as your feet were finally free.

"My, how much did you drink?" Zemo asked in amusement.

You shrugged. "Only like, a few shots...and a beer, I think."

"Huh..." He hummed in thought, "You don't usually get wasted from that little. Here, let me help you to bed." And as he got close to hold on to your waist, that's when he smelled it; another man's seed. His heart rate quickened immensely as you soon fell limp in his arms, soft snores escaping your mouth, fear filling his senses.

Zemo's eyes started to fill with angry tears as he undressed you from your outfit, seeing bruises in the shape of fingerprints scattered along your thighs, bite marks along your collarbone, and a small trace of blood along your inner thighs. He felt sick as rage placed itself in the pit of his stomach, slowly growing and rising up into his throat until he had no choice but to let it out. He yelled out in pain, punching the first thing that he saw; a mirror, hearing it shatter and cut into his fist, but he didn't feel it. All he felt was pure, searing hot anger.

Zemo stayed by your side all night, well into the late morning, anxious for you to wake. He had cleaned himself up, and the broken glass that littered the floor, the last thing he wanted was for you to worry about him. Your soft sleepy sighs made him perk up, on high alert as you slowly sat up in bed, stretching your arms and squinting your eyes as the sunlight hit your face. "Hey..." You smiled sleepily, Zemo's presence instantly comforting you.

"How are you feeling?" He asked cautiously.

You weren't entirely sure. You had a slight ache in between your legs and your legs were sore, but that could've just been because you pushed yourself to dance along with every song that came on the club stereo; but as for the ache, you had no memory of what could've caused that, unless... "Did we have sex last night?"

Zemo's eyes were downcast, his hands balled up into fists, but he was determined to keep his face neutral. "Do you remember anything from last night?"

You tried thinking back; you remembered meeting your friends and having a good time, you remembered taking those shots, but somewhere during the night, it started to become a blur. The last thing you remember was sipping on that beer...eyes slightly widening as you realized, short flashes of memories in your eyes, remembering a man. He was trying to flirt with you, but you paid him no mind. You don't remember seeing him at all after rejecting him, but then how come the memories flashing in your eyes where ones of him?

You felt Zemo grab ahold of your hand as you started to cry, his so soft, warming your cold one, his brows furrowed and a deep frown adorning his face. "Liebling..." He whispered so softly, you could barely hear him. "What did he look like?" He asked, a more stern tone to his voice, his eyes glossed over.

You slightly shook your head, trying to remember his face causing you physical and emotional pain. "I can't...I-"

"It's okay. Take your time."

You tried your best to describe the man from last night, your voice trembling terribly as you recounting all the bits and pieces that were coming back to you. You recalled him telling you his name, but only his first. But with the description paired along with the one name, Zemo had all the information he needed to know to find this monster. "I wish I was there to protect you, I'm so sorry that I wasn't. But I promise, I'll make sure that this never happens again. Ever."

Zemo shifted in his seat impatiently, his eyes trained on the front entrance of the club like he was hypnotized. And he was, in a way. So focused that it almost felt like he was.

He watched as various people walked in and out of the double doors, laughing and smiling or some clearly too drunk to walk in a straight line. But then, he finally spotted him, the waste of a human being that assaulted you. He was finally leaving the club, a random's arm around his shoulder, head swaying side to side and barely standing on her own two feet. Fuck, he was doing it again, not even two days after you. Oh, Zemo was going to enjoy this.

Getting out of his car, Zemo closely trailed behind your assailant, following him into a dark alleyway. His expression darkened as he saw the man feeling up the woman in his arms, kissing on her neck as she weakly pushed against him, her eyes involuntarily fluttering open and closed, in and out of consciousness.

With heavy steps, Zemo stormed over to the man, grabbing onto his shoulder and pushing him off the drugged woman, the force so powerful that he stumbled over and fell on his ass on the damp concrete. Zemo quickly called over Oeznik, giving him the go ahead to tranquilize the fallen man. "Put her up in a nice hotel room, a suite, if it's available. Make sure no harm comes to her." He ordered sternly, helping her over to the parked limo and gently placing her in the backseat.

"Are you sure you don't need any more help, sir?" The elderly man asked.

"No, thank you. I'm quite capable of handling this trash by myself." As the limo drove off, Zemo turned to look down at the now unconscious man, smirking darkly. "You're gonna wish you had never been born."

Unlike how gentle he was with the woman, Zemo handled the man roughly, dragging him by one of his ankles. Hogtying his limbs, he forcefully stuffed him in the trunk of his car, subtly admiring the way the body contorted unnaturally to fit in such a small, confined space. He would definitely be sore when he woke up, but that'll be nothing compared to what Zemo had planned.

Zemo watched with an amused smirk as the man finally came into consciousness, his expression twisting into that of extreme discomfort. Upon seeing Zemo sitting comfortably in a seat in front of him, casually sipping on a glass of whiskey, his eyes frantically looked at his surroundings. He was chained up to a wooden torture cross, the wood old and splintering, digging into the man's back through his clothes. "Hey man, who the fuck are you? Where the hell am I?" The man asked angrily, only noticing his restraints as he tried to pull on them, his eyes slowly growing in fear and his breaths turning into heavy pants.

Zemo chuckled darkly. "Now, now, you're in no position to ask me questions, and so rudely as well. As you can probably tell, unless you're as stupid as you look."

"Please, just, where am I?" He almost begged.

Zemo narrowed his eyes as he deliberated his approach, but decided to entertain the man first. "We're in one of my warehouses, just on the outskirts of Riga."

"What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" Zemo snickered, giving the chained up man the most condescending look he could've possibly mustered. "What I want, is to know why you go around drugging woman?" The man's eyes widened comically, starting to shake his head until Zemo backhanded him, his head snapping to the side briefly. "Don't you dare play coy, I saw you last night."

"Dude, you don't understand. She was into me, she was flirting with me all night. She wanted it."

"Oh, did she now? Then how come she could barely even stand as you walked her out of that club?" The man stayed silent, Zemo nodding and pacing back and forth in front of him. "Lucky I was there when I was, but unfortunately, I couldn't protect all the other woman you must've done the exact same thing to. You're already a fucking scumbag, but you made the grave mistake of choosing one certain person as one of your victims, who just so happens, belongs to me. Two nights ago, you singled out a woman with her group of friends. She was wearing a dark blue dress, her hair done up perfectly, she was so beautiful. You tried flirting with her, but you couldn't take the fuckin' hint. So you spiked her drink when she wasn't looking...you raped her...and now, you're gonna die because of it."

The man quickly shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally seemed to grasp the severity of the situation, the skin his wrist rubbing raw as he kept trying to fight against the restraints. "No, man, please, it was an accident. A mistake, I promise!"

Zemo nodded as he started laying out his surgical tools on a metal tray that sat on a wooden table, situating the tray to sit right next to the wooden cross. "You accidently roofied her?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry! I'm...messed up. I know that. I was abused as a kid, man, I need therapy. I'll get help, I promise, just please don't kill me!" The man started to sob, mucus trailing down his face along with his thick tears, the pungent smell of urine permeating the air as he pissed himself out of fear once he saw the various terrifying looking instruments Zemo set up on a table.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet." Zemo held up one of his tools towards the ceiling lights, a slight smile coming to his face as the light hitting the metal made it glow. "I'm gonna take my time with you first. We're going to have fun."

Zemo placed on his thin rubber gloves. It was honestly the worst part, the starchiness of the material grating against his skin, but it put it out of his mind as he had a job to do. "So, how should we start, hm?" He taunted, looking the man up and down, hoping that he felt just as helpless as his victims. "I have some ideas, but I'd be open to hear some of your opinions, I am fair after all." The man just kept crying weakly, still trying to pull on his chains. "No suggestions then? Alright, fine. Good thing I have a well developed imagination."

Zemo started to feel a giddy feeling in his chest as he picked up a pair of pliers, the metal covered with dark brown leftover blood, rusting from the lack of use. He hadn't done this in a long time, he hoped he hadn't lost his touch. That would've been embarrassing.

Shrugging off his heavy coat and rolling up the sleeves of his dark purple sweater, he went to work.

Zemo would start with the man's right hand, wanting to make this as slow as possible, but not induce enough pain that he'd die. No, he had many ideas that he wanted to try and it wouldn't be worth experimenting if his subject was dead, now, would it? He started to smirk as the man made no effort in hiding his fearful whimpers as Zemo started to cut off his clothing with his knife, exposing his pale torso. "Please, I won't tell anyone about this. I'll pay you, just please, let me go." The man cried, clearly, too stupid to realize that nothing he said was going to stop this.

"Do I look like I need or want your money?" Zemo grinned darkly, surprising the man and himself when he jammed his knife in the flesh of his palm, a scream mixed with a sob escaping the man's throat. "Oh, sorry, that's not how I wanted to start this. Usually I have better control over my anger," He pulled the knife out of the man's hand with a grunt, another sob being released as the blood seeped out like a waterfall, dripping copiously onto the concrete floor. "My apologies." He coughed awkwardly, placing the knife onto the table delicately and pushing it away a little, to make sure he wouldn't do something so impulsively again. There was an art to this, Zemo knew that, and he'd be doing a great disservice if he was to rush through this with such carelessness. "Let me make up for my impulsivity."

Zemo reached up slightly so that he could reach the man's wounded hand, situating the previously discarded pliers so that his pinky sat in between the rusty metal, a rush of excitement bubbling in Zemo's veins as the man started to beg for mercy once again, immediately letting out a scream as Zemo slowly closed the pliers, hearing the piercing wet squelching sound as the layers of thin skin start to cut open, then a splintering noise echoing around the empty warehouse as the bones in his finger shattered and breaking until the small digit completely came off, falling to the floor. "Well, that was exhilarating." Zemo laughed breathlessly, picking up the bloodied finger and inspecting it. "One down." He smirked.

A sickening feeling grew in Zemo's stomach as he removed another digit from the man's fingers, not because of the way the bone crunching from the pressure of the instrument echoed around the warehouse; no, it was because some blood managed to splatter on him. He cringed and sighed in frustration, ignoring the screeching noises of pain coming from the man as his index finger dangled off the rest of his hand, barely hanging on by a thin piece of mangled skin. "You got blood on my favorite sweater. Well, at least I can hire someone else to do my laundry. I looked in your wallet and it was like a barren wasteland, no way you could pay for my laundry. I hope the stain can come out, at least. Oh well, I guess I could just buy a new one. God, see what you're putting me through? You could've spared me the waste of having to go shopping if you could've not been actual human garbage for once in your pathetic life."

Situating the rusty pliers on one of the man's toes, he slowly started to squeeze. "This little piggy went to market," Zemo started to sing over the man's painful animalistic wailing, his bones in his toe crushing and splintering inside his skin, hearing the tear as the toe came off completely. Zemo moved to the next one, "This little piggy stayed home." Another one removed. "This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none." Finally getting to his big toe, the one that would be the most struggle to remove, he laughed as the man continued screeching loudly. "And this little piggy went Wee Wee Wee," He sang over the man's screams, almost harmonizing with him, "all the way home!"

The man was dazed, almost falling unconscious from the immense pain he was in, but he was quickly perked up forcefully when Zemo threw cold water onto his person. "No sleeping just yet, sir. We still have much to do. Drink this. Slow." Zemo pushed a bottle of water up to the man's lips, him immediately gulping it down and coughing as it went down the wrong tube briefly. "I told you to drink it slowly. You never listen, huh?"

"Please..." The man choked out weakly, "just kill me..."

Zemo smiled softly, contrasting his dark eyes. "Oh, you can't die just yet. Not when we're having so much fun. Are you not having fun?" He snorted when the man's bottom lip trembled, bursting out into tears yet again. "I attend to savor this. I'm only allowing myself one night so, we have to make it count, yes?"

Slowly twirling a scalpel in his hand, Zemo unbuttoned the man's pants, pulling down his boxers along with the pants. "What're you doing?" The man yelled angrily, getting a sudden second wind as his manhood felt threatened. "I'm not into dudes, you fuckin' psycho!"

"Oh, what? Do you think I actually wanted to rape you? Even I wouldn't stoop to that level, not even for people like you. No..." He smirked, "I have something better planned. I'll ask, do you have any last words for mini you down there?"

The man's eyes widened. "What?" He stuttered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to remove your balls, moron; like the dog that you are." Zemo said nonchalantly.

"No. No, no, please, don't!" The man balled hysterically, trying his hardest to escape his restrains, as if he hadn't try multiple times already and got nowhere.

"What's the problem? It's not like you're gonna have to live with no balls for the rest of your life, cause you're dying tonight, whether you like it or not. Plus, what's that when you've already lost your fingers and toes?" Zemo didn't give the man any time to reply, getting on his knees, duct taping the man's penis out of the way so he could have a better access to the testicles. "I'd say brace yourself, but I don't give a shit."

Without wasting another second, Zemo dug the scalpel into the sensitive flesh, trying to hold back his grin as the man continued to damage his vocal cords, a slight splash of blood landed on Zemo's face. "Haha..." He chuckled dementedly, focusing on his torturous surgery. "Don't worry, I'm almost done here." He said with a faux sympathy. "Aha-!" He exhaled sharply as he finally cut through the last pieces of skin that kept the man's balls attached to the rest of his body, falling in the palm of Zemo's hand. "Would you look at that?" He smiled approvingly, holding up the detached parts up to the man's pale and sweaty face. "I've got you by the balls." He giggled.

"Stop squirming, you're gonna mess up my perfect sutures." Zemo hissed, keeping a steady hand as he sewed up the empty space where the man's testicles used to be. "There, now hopefully, you won't bleed out faster."

Placing a thin metal rod onto an open flame, Zemo looked back at the sweaty broken man with an almost sympathetic smile. "Are you familiar with sounding? It's not too extremely common, but it's supposed to make cumming all the more pleasurable for a man. Unluckily for you, I don't have experience, so it'll be painful, especially when this rod is boiling hot." Zemo went to the almost dead man with the rod in hand. "Now, hold still, or else I might accidently stick it in wrong. Hm, it probably would've been easier if you could get hard. Maybe I should've saved the castration for last...oh well." Zemo grabbed a hold of the man's limp penis, forcefully inserting the rod into his urethra; the deep guttural moans of pain increasing in volume as it turned into sharp earsplitting screams, so loud that Zemo caught some blood seeping out of the man's mouth from his torn up vocal cords, hearing the weak sobs along with the sound of sizzling skin, burning from the inside out.

Zemo examined his work, nodding in approval. "Well, how is it for you?" He asked with a smirk, only to roll his eyes when he saw the man was passed out from the pure pain he was in. "God, so lazy, aren't you? Guess I'll have to wait until you wake up...again." But after an hour, the man didn't wake up and Zemo started to get impatient.

"Hey, wake up, arschloch." Zemo slapped the man's face roughly, only for it to jerk to the side limply. "Oh, come on. Really? You're gonna tap out now?"

Zemo couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as he felt the man's pulse, feeling no throbbing in his neck or wrists. He had more ideas he wanted to test out, and that was kind of annoying, but he was finally dead. A toxic weed plucked from a rose garden, never to destroy such precious flowers ever again...

You were worried for Zemo, he had been gone all night, not replying to your texts or phone calls. You were really praying that nothing bad happened to him, or he wasn't getting himself into any trouble on your behalf. But you were soon proven right in your worry when Zemo came through the front doors, covering in dry blood. "Oh my god, what happened to you?" You cried, running to him and looking him over. "Are you hurt?" You asked frantically, trying to find the source of the bleeding.

Zemo chuckled tiredly. "No, mien Schatz, I'm perfectly okay."

You furrowed your brows, the smell of so much blood making you dizzy. "Then, why are you covered in blood?"

"I found him...your attacker." Your whole body ran cold, finally realizing where all the blood came from. "I gave him what he deserved, and he'll never hurt you or anyone one else ever again. I made sure of it."

"What did you do?" You asked timidly, tears coming to your eyes.

Zemo shook his head slightly, smiling weakly. "It doesn't matter, precious." He reached up to caress your cheek, thumbing away one of your fallen tears. "All you need to know is that you're safe."

"You...you killed him? For me?" You looked at him incredulously, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep in your sobs.

"Of course I did, Liebling. You're the most important thing in my life, and I'd be damned if I let anyone who hurt you walk free. I'd do anything for you, lay down my life if need be. I love you more than life itself."

"I-" You started to shake in his arms, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Zemo kissed your forehead, his hands rubbing up and down your sides gently.

"You made sure you wouldn't get caught, right?"

Zemo snickered. "Who do you take me for, huh? Of course I did. Plus, it's not like anyone is gonna be looking for that barbarian anyway."

"God, I love you so much." You kissed him passionately, tasting the slightest hint of blood on his tongue, but you didn't mind it one bit. Zemo always promised to protect you, lay vengeance at your feet, and he always kept his promises.

~~~~~~~~~~

Don't say I didn't warn you

"Who are you, what do you want?!"

"To see an empire fall"

So live-action Zemo is hella inaccurate, but Daniel Bruhl is such a perfect cast that I just- I literally don't care

Marvel: * doesn't give us swordwielding Zemo *

Me: "Fine, I'll do it myself"

Pls in the first one they were all gonna run in different directions 😂✋ AND LOOK AT SAM HOW HE WAS RUNNIN' 🤣🤣🤣

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

Your honor, I love him.

bliss [helmut zemo x reader]

summary ↠ "i would die for her. i would kill for her. either way, what bliss." - gomez addams pairing ↠ young!helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 1.8k warnings ↠ explicit language, murder a/n ↠ listen, i’m a sucker for a baby zemo doing everything he can to protect you. enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

You heard his laughter, and you knew that something was wrong.

The man was a flirt, player, and, as your friends said, “not good for you”. He was only just freshly 19 when you had met and, upon literally bumping into each other in a small cafe, you were instantly smitten. It was impossible not to be, though; he had these big brown eyes, fluffy and dark-ginger hair, and a dimpled smile that drew you in immediately. He introduced himself as “Hel” and gave you his phone number, and you were satisfied with your little interaction. It had been a while since anybody had shown interest in you like that.

He took you on a date. An unusual one, late at night, all alone on abandoned rooftops of Novi Grad, but a date nonetheless. Hel had greeted you with a smile, a red rose, and a bottle of German beer, and you had decided that you were hooked on him. The night was a bit cold and you buried yourself into his body, and he had soothed you to sleep with gentle scratching on your back. As you drifted to sleep, you remember thinking that he smelled nice and how you wouldn’t mind wearing his jacket one day.

That day came about a month later. He had come to pick you up after one of your lectures and he stood there in the rain as you had bustled out of the building. “Hurry up!” he had laughed as you raced to meet him under the umbrella. “Here, take this…” He had struggled his rain coat off and draped it around your shoulders and over your back to protect your bag, and he had quickly tapped your nose when he pulled the hood over your head.

“Thanks, Hel,” you chuckled, stepping a bit closer to him.

“I love you,” Hel told you, and you looked at him to find his gaze clear and fixed on you. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

You smiled, moved onto the tips of your toes, and kissed him. “I love you too, Hel.”

Hel’s 20th birthday was in the summer, and he invited you to meet his parents. It was a small get-together, he had told you. Just his mother, father, a few close friends, and you. He drove you, his hand fixed on your thigh the whole time, and you noticed his fingers tapping nervously. “What’s this all about?” you asked, gesturing the frantically-moving digits.

Hel had swallowed thickly, and replaced his hand on the wheel. “Nothing.”

That night, you found out who Hel truly was. Your boyfriend, the most beautiful man you had ever met, the one who knew how to dry your tears and kiss you drunk, was royalty. Baron Helmut Zemo. You had moved to Sokovia to go to university in Novi Grad and hardly recognized any of the royal family, let alone the lesser members, so it wasn’t that hard to believe that you hadn't recognized him. It was still shocking, though. What was even more hurtful than Helmut keeping it from you, though, was that he wasn’t even the one to tell you the truth; it was his cousin, Emil. He had said it and given you a smile, like he was aware that you had no idea and was intent on letting you know the secret. Your head was spinning as you excused yourself from the conversation and went to the balcony, and you found Helmut out there, smoking a cigarette and laughing at something his friend had said. “Baron?” you asked, and he turned to you so quickly that you were surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. “When were you gonna tell me this?”

“I-I was planning on doing it tonight,” Helmut had said, but your senses were too muffled by anger and hurt to process much other than his words.

“You had a whole fucking year to tell me,” you said. “Are you ashamed of it? Did you think I wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter?”

“No, no!” Helmut had exclaimed, and he crossed to you and took your hand in his. “That’s not it at all, mein Schatz! I didn’t want you to get hurt. This life, it’s… I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. It’s cutthroat, it’s mean, it’s-it’s not for you.”

You pulled your hand away from him and sighed. “I just can’t believe you’d keep this from me,” you said. “Me, of all people, Hel. And I find out by your fucking cousin telling me that you were on some fucking list of Hottest Bachelors or some shit like that--”

“Who?”

“What?” you asked. Helmut had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before, one of pure and potent anger, and his dark eyebrows were furrowed.

“Who told you?” he said. His back teeth were clenched-- you could hear it in his voice-- and his hand was too tight on yours.

“Emil,” you replied. “God, let go, you’re gonna leave a bruise.”

Helmut suddenly dropped your hand like it had burned him, and he instead clasped your face in his palms. “I love you, mein Schatz,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry and to hate me, but please, I can’t… I can’t live knowing that I fucked this up so spectacularly.”

You smoothed your hands up to meet his, and you tangled your fingers with his. “I’m gonna go home,” you whispered. “I don’t feel comfortable here anymore. But don’t rush, love. Enjoy your birthday. Just come by my apartment when you’re done and we can talk about this.” You reached to him and tugged him down to kiss you, and you swore that you could taste his love on his tongue. Cigarettes, champagne, and love.

You were asleep by the time Helmut came home. Rightfully so, seeing as it was nearly four o’clock. You knew that Europeans, specifically Sokovians, knew how to party, but even that was a bit much for Helmut. You knew that your neighbors would have a few choice words for you about your boyfriend coming home drunk an hour before the sun rose, but then you heard the laughter.

It was quiet at first. As you rose from bed, you hardly heard it. You thought it was your window unit AC acting up again, as it was prone to do. But then, the laughter grew. It bubbled up and grew, until it was nearly hysterical.

“Hel?” you called. You quickly stepped out of the bedroom and into the front room, and, in the darkness, you saw your boyfriend’s form sitting at the window. He was laughing. He was shaking, trembling, and you flicked on a lamp. You nearly threw up at what you saw.

Blood. Still red, still fresh. Red blood on his shirt, on his jeans, on his hands, in his hair. It wasn’t that much, but it was everywhere. His shirt, the nice white button-down that you had begged him to wear but that he had only agreed to if he could pop the top three buttons (and how were you going to say no to that?), was perhaps the most stained of all. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and you clutched his arm in fear.

“Hel!” you cried. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

He was still doing that awful laugh, and it made your stomach drop. Something hadn’t happened to him; he had made something happen to someone. He had tears in his eyes and tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, and he sniffled in-between bouts of laughter. “Helmut,” you said quickly, and you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “What did you do?”

Helmut responded instantly. He threw his arms around you and pulled you into a wild kiss, clutching at your waist, ass, thighs, any part of you that he could reach. His hands were shaking as he touched you, and you prayed that he wouldn’t notice how hard you were trembling. “Nobody’s going to hurt you again,” he whispered into your mouth. “Not as long as I have breath in my lungs and a gun in my hand.”

You broke out of his grip, and you staggered to sit down before your legs gave out entirely. Gun. He had said gun. “What did you do?” you asked weakly.

Helmut came to kneel in front of you, and he nudged your knees open to slot between your thighs. “I did it for you,” he told you. “All for you, mein Schatz, just for you. See if anybody ever fucking disrespects you again.”

You pushed him away, but that wild look in his brown eyes told you that not even being a few inches apart could help you. “Was it Emil?” you whispered, and Helmut smiled as he nodded.

“So smart,” he muttered, and pulled you close and landed a firm kiss to your head. “So fucking smart, mein Schatz. You’ll be a good baroness, I know it.”

“What did you do to him?” you asked. You had almost not understood what he had said, but you caught it. Baroness. If you married him, you too would be royalty. You were conflicted anyway; Helmut Zemo had hurt someone for you. Baron Helmut Zemo had attacked his own cousin for “disrespecting” you. You wanted to condemn his actions, to cry and yell at him and break up, but a small ball of anxiety sat deep in your stomach. He did for you. He loved you so much that he would hurt someone for you.

“S’what he fucking gets,” Helmut muttered to himself. “Saying that to you, how dare he--”

“Helmut,” you said quickly. “Did you… Did you kill him?”

You felt ill as your boyfriend nodded, and you drew your knees up to your chest. “Holy shit, Hel,” you whispered, and you shoved him away when he tried to embrace you. “No, no! Stay the fuck away from me! How could you do this?”

“I love you--”

“That’s not enough!” you exclaimed. “Helmut, you killed someone, all because he was mean to me. How in the fuck do you think that’s alright?”

“It’s the least I should have done to him,” Helmut said. “I should have done more. Death is too easy for him. He does not talk to you like that, nobody talks to you like that.”

Your instincts were screaming at you to push him away and to force him out of the apartment, but a larger part of you felt safe in his presence. Even if he was bloody and maniacal, he was your Hel. The thought that he would even do something as drastic as that for something as simple as what his cousin had done was flattering. He loved you. There was no doubt about it.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

Helmut looked at you, that crazed look still in his eyes. And, when he smiled, you saw blood in his mouth.

🎃Kinktober 2021🎃

I decided to do Kinktober this year! I have never done this before and I’m very excited to do this! I believe that I can do this and have fun with it. Especially because I have alof of ideas but nowhere to put them. So—here we are!

*Some of these characters or kinks might change*

WARNING: NSFW CONTENT MDNI 18+ ONLY!

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Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged for the posts, please let me know! 🎃😻

He's so beautiful even when he's angry an wants to shoot you!

WHY DOES HIS EYES LOOK SO SAD AND PRETTY!?

I’m okay