Helmut Zemo Oneshots

THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT IS ALWAYS THE SWEETEST (SMUT)

Plot: Zemo and reader won't admit their feelings to each other. While they're undercover in Madripoor they begin to have problems pretending they don't care about eachother.

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, tiny bit of choking, alcohol consumption, possessive behavior, dom! Zemo, sub! reader, light degradation, biting

Translations (German is used in place of Sokovian, shown in italics): Hase (Bunny/Hare), Mein schatz (my sweetheart), Liebling (darling)

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Y/n didn't like Zemo. Y/n abhorred Zemo and everything he did. She hated his smug face, his head tilt, his stupid jacket that only had fur around the collar. Y/n despised Zemo, yet she couldn't help the thoughts that creeped into her mind at night of his warm gloved hands roaming her body and his accented voice whispering what he would do to her in her ear. Those thoughts made her find Zemo even more insufferable than she already had.

Y/n could feel the bass throughout her body as she stood at the edge of the club, nursing a drink while she swayed softly to the beat. Stuff like this wasn't her scene, she preferred the quiet warmth of curling up by a fireplace with a cup of tea, no sound but her own thoughts. Here, everything was practically screaming at her, it was almost overstimulating, but she stayed, not wanting to miss anything that could go down.

She almost decided to change her mind and abandon the godforsaken mission when Zemo appeared at her side, doing an awkward little dance. Y/n watched him incredulously for a few moments, taking a sip of her overly sweet drink as she pictured all the ways she could punch him so he would stop dancing like that.

"Y/n could you not look at me with such hatred for one night?" Asked Zemo, his accented voice only just rising above the music.

"That's a lot to ask of a girl Zemo." Y/n replied with disinterest, wanting this conversation to be over so she could go back to standing silently alone.

"Our disguise depends on us being friendly, well, friendly is too weak of a word. Will you cooperate or would you like to blow this whole operation?" He asked, tilting his head to the side as he bore into Y/n's eyes.

Perhaps it was the alcohol in her system, or maybe he was playing mind tricks, but as Y/n looked back into his eyes she could feel a warm feeling in her chest. Y/n held his gaze for a few moments before relenting, reluctantly realizing he had a point. With a sigh she held out her hand to the man.

"I'm not a good actress Zemo, you better sweep me off my feet," Y/n huffed, downing the rest of her drink and placing it on the table nearby. Zemo gave her a mischievous smile before pulling her into the crowd of people.

"Call me Helmut, it's more natural." He told her, his gloved hand resting on her waist and holding her close as he began to move his body to the upbeat music. Y/n followed his lead, her mind racing as she couldn't remove her thoughts from the close proximity of them. She could feel the heat radiating off of him as her chest was shoved into his as someone pushed past her. If their closeness affected Zemo he didn't show it as he continued to dance, moving his arm in a weird way.

"Ze- Helmut stop that, god you're horrible at this. Your bad dancing is just going to bring more attention to us." Y/n groaned, grabbing his arm and holding it still.

Zemo looked at her with a scoff. "You don't seem like much of a dancer liebling, how do you suppose I should dance?"

Y/n knew her options were limited, and she cursed herself for speaking out on Zemo's dancing. She had backed herself into the corner, and there was only one way out. Y/n spun around, her back flush against Zemo's chest as she began to sway her hips to the beat. A groan sounded from behind her, so quiet Y/n wouldn't have thought it to be real if not for the hot breath on her neck that came with it.