A Man After Midnight - Sugardaddy!Zemo x Reader
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Summary: After escaping the RAFT, Zemo hides out in Italy. Reader is a student studying abroad in Rome, but has spent much of her time working in order to pay for school. One day after work she runs into a man while grocery shopping....
Warnings: Smut - unprotected sex, age gap, dubcon & daddy kink (if you squint), sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship dynamics. Alcohol use. Public displays of affection. Italian translations by Google Translate and being an avid fan of The Sopranos.
A/N: This was a request I got on AO3 I took some liberties with. Please don’t try to poke holes in some of the logic in this story (i.e., Zemo going out to a club while he’s on the run), it’s just supposed to be fun. I meant to post this awhile back but it needed more work and I got super busy. Also, I made a playlist for this story, which you can check out here. Please enjoy!
Pocketing the map she’d been using a bit self-consciously, she stopped herself outside the small market. She was nearly successful, finally, at navigating from her flat to the closest place she knew to grab groceries, only having to look at directions once.
Studying abroad was supposed to be fun — at least that was what she had been told — but so far all she’d been doing was working overtime just to scrape by, and hardly had much time to explore the city. But how else was she supposed to afford living and studying in Rome without a proper job? Most of her classes were online, as it encouraged her to spend more time experiencing Italy, but it only gave her an excuse to spend more time at the office, putting in extra hours wherever she could.
It was easy to pick up ingredients for dinner every few days, and once she arrived at the grocer she set about getting all the things on her mental checklist. Mind spinning with thoughts of work — which was a competitive, paid internship she’d scored — her attention was everywhere except in the moment; hastily gathering the produce she needed.
There were a few emails she’d have to answer when she got home, a few files to review before she could even think of her meal and –
Letting out a grunt, she abruptly collided with a broad chest just as she was rounding the corner her way to check out. Tomatoes, apples, and oranges collided with the floor, she’d forgotten the canvas bag she usually carried her groceries in, and had been overly confident about what she could balance in her arms.
“Mi dispiace,” she apologized profusely, using the limited Italian she knew, barely regarding the man in front of her as she knelt to collect the items that had been sent rolling in every direction. “I’m so sorry.”
The man would step around the mess and continue about his day, she figured, but in her flurry to collect everything, a hand holding a bruised tomato was suddenly in front of her face.
Glancing upwards at the outstretched hand, she was taken aback when she saw the stranger’s face, becoming lost in golden eyes, which were sparkling, attentive, gazing at her coyly.
“You might want to get a cart next time,” he said, voice low and even. His accent was European, but she couldn’t place exactly what it was from. However, she had heard enough Italian accents to at least recognize that this was different. It didn’t matter though, because his husky intonation was the most agreeable sound she’d heard since she first arrived in the country. He didn’t seem angry, if anything, he was amused. “May I help?” he asked, gesturing to the groceries in her arms.
It took her a moment to respond as she was too busy checking him out; he was good-looking, and had a vaguely familiar face, though she didn’t know exactly how. Perhaps he resembled an actor she’d seen in a movie somewhere, but she wasn’t going to let it qualm her.
“Oh please, you don’t have to-“ she began.
“It’s the least I could do.” She didn’t argue, and how could she? It seemed almost rude to refuse.
“I take it you aren’t from here…” he stated plainly.
“You can tell?” she asked sarcastically.
He chuckled, a pleasant sound. “Neither am I.”
They made their way to the register, and he paused to grab a bottle of wine off the top shelf of the rack, not bothering to look at the price, although she did, and tried not to gawk when she saw it. There was a short line at the register, and they filed behind other patrons.
“My name is Helmut,” he offered his hand, and she shook it, giving him her name in response, which he repeated once before offering a soft smile. “What brings you to Italy?” he asked, chatting her up. Normally she shied away from small talk, but right now, she really didn’t mind it at all.
“I’m studying abroad,” she answered.
“Sounds educational,” he winked. “Have you seen anything interesting yet?”
She shrugged wondering how much she was willing to share. “Uh, well...it’s a little embarrassing but...not really. I scored a sweet internship, so I’ve mostly just been working.”
“Well don’t work too hard,” he chided. “There’s so much to do here, you won’t want to waste the experience.”
“I know,” she said. “Do you live in town?”
A somewhat sour expression crossed his features, his brows drawing together, eyes narrowing, but then he blinked and it was gone. “No, I’m in town for business, I’m staying just outside the city.”
“Oh nice,” she said, and she realized that she had made it to the front of the checkout line, where Helmut helped her place her items on the counter. The cashier bagged them quickly and she paid, taking the tote in her arms.
“Well it was nice meeting you,” she said, turning to find him watching her attentively, seemingly zoned out or lost in thought, though there was something quite intense in his gaze.
“You as well,” he answered. He paused then, eyes raking her up and down quite brazenly, and she thought maybe he was going to ask her something else, but appeared to decide against it. “Enjoy your time in Rome,” he finished.
“You too.” The cashier pulled his attention away and she left. So far, most of the people she’d met had been friendly, and she didn’t think much of the interaction, leaving him behind in the market as she began the short walk home.
She lounged in a chair by the window in her little bedroom, feet propped up on the windowsill, watching the last sliver of sun slipping carefully under the cover of the horizon, the sky changing colors, from blue to red, to pink, to yellow before her eyes. Her cheap bluetooth speaker played an old Eagles album, and her hands worried about the handle of a mug that contained the remainder of a cheap bottle of Merlot. It wasn’t even a week night, but she was going to have to go to work early the next day just to get a few hours in. There was a good chance she’d be the only other person in the office, but she didn’t have much of a choice, as she needed the extra hours if she wanted to make rent the following week.
The trip was only possible because of a scholarship she’d gotten, but it was barely enough money to cover school, let alone rent and other living costs. The other students in the program had help from their families, or had money saved up, but unfortunately, she didn’t have such luxuries.
The city went on without her that night, and she could hear the chatter of people on the street, out getting dinner and drinks, pregaming before heading out to the clubs. She closed her eyes, taking another sip of wine. She’d have to start getting ready for bed soon, but she was savoring the only bit of city life she could have right now.
That was until her roommate, Tiff, came tearing into the room, wobbling in precariously high heels and a skimpy, skintight dress, a watered-down drink in her hand.
“Uhhh, please tell me you’re going to change,” Tiff scolded, incredulous. She opened her mouth to speak but she was cut off. “Wait...don’t tell me you forgot..”
“Fuck,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut, head lolling backwards. “That’s tonight?”
“Yeah, it’s Friday!” Tiff exclaimed.
“I can’t, I have to go in tomorrow.”
“Okay well, you’re coming anyways.”
“I could barely afford it even if I wanted to.”
“Who cares? I’ll spot you, but we’re not leaving without you.”
Despite her insistent protests, her roommates were convincing, and thirty minutes later she found herself on the sidewalk, huddled in a group, headed to a club she’d never heard of. Clad in a borrowed dress that was much shorter than anything she’d ever worn before, throat still burning from a shot of garbage vodka they’d taken just minutes ago, she planned on only staying out a few hours before heading home so she could make it to work the next day.
She’d been in the city for about a month, but it was her first time out, and as she waltzed with her friends down the street, she was struck by its beauty, the crowded sidewalks filled with people headed to various bars and clubs, dressed in varying degrees of formality. For the first time since she had arrived, she felt carefree, happy, excited. At this point, she didn’t care what the plan was, she was just relieved to be out of the cramped apartment and boring office.
The club her friends had picked out was packed, crowded, playing music she didn’t recognize but could easily dance to. It was a little overwhelming, and their group flocked to the bar to get a drink, leaning over to catch eyes with one of many frazzled bartenders.
Scanning the crowd, it was full of people she didn’t know, which was more comforting than anything else, compared to the pubs back home. That was, until she locked eyes with a man at the end of the bar. Wearing a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his long fingers were wrapped around a tumbler filled with ice and amber liquor. She was struck by him instantly, not just by his handsome, confident looks, but….where do I know him from? His eyes narrowed at her kindly as a smile quirked at the corners of his mouth, oh god, he was so hot and she was so-
“What are you gonna get to drink?” her friend smacked her on the arm, and she turned away from the pleasant stranger, as Tiff bobbed her head to the music obliviously, and took in the scene around her.
She shrugged. At this rate, it didn’t seem like the bartender would ever notice them, and she’d practically forgotten about getting a drink, even though she felt like she’d need one soon to tolerate the crowd, which was growing increasingly rowdy. Turning her attention back to the man at the end of the bar, she was disappointed to find him gone. Maybe it had been her imagination, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment.
Sighing, she leaned further over the bar, hoping the bartender would be forced to acknowledge them, until she heard a deep voice in her ear.
“What a pleasant surprise,” it was a low purr that sent shivers up her spine, and she turned around to find the man now standing behind her, lips curled in an ornery grin.
She felt herself smiling like an idiot, absolutely taken, especially as she now recalled how she knew him, the same man she’d met in the market earlier that week. He had been stately before, but she realized she’d been too flustered to discern just how fine he really was.
“Helmut!” she exclaimed.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me,” he said.
“How could I forget?” she blurted, and then felt her cheeks warm, embarrassed at her overt display of enthusiasm.
But he seemed to like it, and smiled even wider in response. “How serendipitous it is to find you here. I’m glad to see you experiencing the nightlife.”
“Yeah,” she appreciated him up close, and felt somewhat awkward trying to figure out what to say next besides just oogle.
“What are you drinking?” he asked, eyes flickering to her friend as well, who had just caught on to what was happening.
“Uh, vodka soda,” she said without thinking, her usual drink of choice when going out. “If we ever get a drink.”
“Allow me,” he leaned over the bar, raising his hand.
As if on cue, a bartender approached him, and as he was ordering, Tiff elbowed her aggressively. “Holy shit, who is that?” she asked, checking him out, and her eyes drifted down to the curve of his ass in his dress pants. Nice, her friend mouthed, nodding in approval.
Shrugging, she was too taken aback to tell the story, and before she knew it, Helmut pressed a cold glass in her hand, offering another drink to her friend who took it graciously.
“It’s on me,” Helmut said before she could open her mouth.
Now, she was able to give him a real appraisal. Stubble covered his jawline, dark hair falling onto his forehead, and she noticed, for the first time, the fine lines around his eyes and mouth. He was older than her, much older – she had to guess maybe somewhere in his forties – but it hardly mattered because he wore it well. If anything, he couldn’t have been more becoming if he were any younger. The dark dress shirt he wore was unbuttoned at the top, revealing just a bit of his bare chest, but not hardly enough, she thought.
The bartender sat down a round of shots as well, ones he must have ordered. “Please, let’s toast,” he lifted the small glass. She didn’t dare ask what the shot even was, and Tiff just kept elbowing her aggressively, like she couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Salute,” the three of them clinked the glasses together and threw back the liquid. It was smooth, expensive, nothing like what she had taken before she left her place that night.
Helmut threw back the rest of his drink as well, and his eyes fixated on her.
“Come dance with me,” he commanded, and tilted his head in the direction of the dance floor. She froze, turning back to Tiff to ask silent permission.
“Will you just have some fun? I’ll find the others. Go on, he’s hot.”
She couldn’t disagree, and took his outstretched hand hesitantly. It was cool from the drink, but felt so nice.
“You aren’t working tonight?” Helmut teased, and she was surprised he’d remembered anything from their brief conversation in the store earlier in the week.
“No, but I have to go in tomorrow,” she rolled her eyes.
“On a weekend? It doesn’t sound like you’re taking my advice.”
“I’ll be short on rent if I don’t, “ she regretted the words the second they came out of her mouth, but she’d never been a great liar. Still, she doubted he wanted to hear about her financial misfortunes. As she expected, a look of discontent crossed Helmut’s features and she figured this would be the blow that startled him away, but it wasn’t, and his expression neutralized quickly.
She didn’t recognize the music, all sung in various languages she didn’t understand, even the songs in Italian she only half comprehended, but it didn’t matter. Helmut’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close to him, and she felt her heart rate increase, echoing in her ears, even louder than the bassy club hits. His proximity was intimidating, almost suffocating. She wasn’t used to attention from men like this, and as much as she liked it, she herself wasn’t quite sure what to do. One wrong move might turn him off entirely, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.
Finally finishing her drink, she discarded the glass on an empty tray passing by. Her hands rested stiffly on his shoulders, and he pulled away slightly to smile at her. “You don’t do much dancing, do you?” he asked.
She shook her head no, struggling to find words. You idiot! She practically screamed at herself, feeling heat rising up her neck. “I’m sorry,” she managed.
“Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “Here,” Guiding her hands, he laid one on the arm that he had wrapped around her waist, the other to his chest, her thumb mere inches from his exposed skin.
“You can get as close to me as you’d like darling,” he hummed. “I don’t bite.”
His hands were big, the one spread across her waist, thumb lazily grazing her ribcage, warm and gentle, her stomach fluttering at the contact as they began to move in time to the music. There was something almost protective in the way he held her, which had her reeling, despite how little they knew each other.
Helmut’s stubble tickled the side of her face as he talked to her while they danced, and she wondered if he was doing it because he could tell she was nervous. She hoped not.
“Sweet girl,” he murmured in her ear. “Don’t tell me this is your first time out since you’ve been in the country.”
She grimaced, glad he couldn’t see her face. “I’ve just been so busy.”
“You can’t spend all your time working.”
“I don’t have much of a choice,” she was embarrassed truthfully, but she wished they could change the subject. It was clear she sounded like a stick in the mud.
“I might be able to help you,” he purred. From her spot, her chin over his shoulder, against the side of his face, she couldn’t really read him, but she was beginning to feel tipsy from the drinks she’d had. “But enough talking about work.”
It wasn’t clear what he meant, and she didn’t want to press him, didn’t think she would have the audacity to even if she wanted. Instead, she let the liquid courage seep slowly into her veins, the rest of the club, the noise, the lights blending together into a more tolerable backdrop. When she leaned in closer to him, he matched her enthusiasm. Drowning in his scent, expensive cologne, cigar smoke, and whiskey, she gathered he was a man who liked the finer things, the watch adorning one of his wrists could probably pay her rent for the entirety of her stay in Italy and then some.
Growing more and more bold, she moved her thumb over to dip underneath the shirt he was wearing, hesitantly touching the bare skin there. Her thumb began toying with the fourth button of his shirt, and he pulled away slightly to look at her then. Freezing, she wondered if she’d crossed a line.
But instead, Helmut quirked an eyebrow, amused. “Would you like to see more of me already?”
“Just a little,” she felt small, demure in his presence, but there was something kind of appealing about it. Watching her, she unbuttoned the shirt carefully, pushing the fabric aside to splay her palm against the broad expanse of his chest, which was searing hot and damp with perspiration. She gently raked her nails back and forth.
“Oh draga, you aren’t as shy as you lead others to believe, are you?” he smiled at her.
She shook her head no, and at this point the two of them were closer than they’d been all night, his lips just inches from hers. Lifting her chin, she let her eyelids flutter closed halfway, hoping he’d give her what she wanted, and he did, tilting his head down to slot his lips against hers.
Whatever she’d been expecting, he blew that out of the water, the searing heat of his mouth against her own was like stepping into a sauna, sucking the air from her lungs and buckling her knees, a jolt of lighting hitting her stomach and radiating all the way to her core. He was so passionate, so confident. She didn’t need to worry about what to do next as he took the lead, his tongue sliding against her lower lip, one of his hands on the back of her neck, the other on her jaw. Even if she didn’t want to give in, she’d have no choice in the matter, and surrendering to him felt euphoric.
No one had ever kissed her like this before, and definitely not in public, but that hardly mattered because the last thing she wanted to do was stop him, and she let her hands roam, wrapping around his broad shoulders and tangling in his hair.
When his hands pulled her closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss even further, she let out an unbridled moan into his mouth. It’d been so long since anyone had paid her attention, and now, this, one of the hottest men she’d ever met was making out with her - passionately - in front of hundreds of people.
He pulled away suddenly, she was a panting mess, lips swollen as she sucked in greedy gasps of air while she could, though she’d much rather be deprived if it meant he was going to kiss her like that again. She thought she’d done something wrong until he spun her around and grabbed her hips, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back so her ass was flush against him.
He pressed his hips forward, gripping her own with bruising intensity, so she could feel him hard against her and she moaned, plainly, unable to help herself, head lolling back against his shoulder.
In her limited years of life, she never imagined herself in this situation, which made it all the more thrilling. They were invisible among the crowd of people and she felt giddy, delirious. Grinding against him to the music, she threw an arm behind her to grip at his neck, which allowed him to press hot, searing kisses along her sensitive skin as she keened back into him. His lips locked with her own again and she moaned into his mouth.
“You little tease,” he growled, his words had desire settling in the pit of her stomach as one of the hands on her waist slowly drifted up her ribcage and cupped the soft flesh of her breast through too many layers of her clothes.
With every touch of his greedy hands, she was growing impossibly wet, he devoured her shamelessly, for anyone there to see. But no one around them seemed to care.
There was power and powerlessness in her current state, all at the same time. He was cursing in a language she’d never heard before, the one hand that wasn’t on her breast ventured to grapple along her thigh where her dress stopped short. They explored her bare skin, torrid and rapacious, her self-control waning with every press of his sticky palms.
“You look incredible in this dress,” he cooed. “If I fucked you in it right now, I don’t think anyone would know.”
The precipice between her legs ached at his words, clenching around nothing. And Helmut seemed to know exactly the effect he was having on her, but it only seemed to spur him on as he whispered absolute filth in her ear.
“Do you want me as badly as I want you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she cried out as his hand slipped underneath the fabric of the skirt, no one would even be able to see him squeezing and pinching at the inside of her thighs, harsh enough to leave marks behind.
When his knuckles grazed the front of her panties, she could tell they were already damp. He was so, so close to where she wanted him most but he was holding out, refusing to give her what she needed. “You’re so wet for me already,” he chided.
“Helmut, please,” she whined, a simpering mess at this point. She hadn’t even drank that much, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with anyone, and she knew with certainty it wasn’t this hot, hell, she probably hadn’t even gotten off. Mind clouded and driven by pure lust, it was Helmut who pulled away, but only slightly, and she whined at the loss of contact.
“Draga,” he sympathized. “What kind of gentlemen would this make me?”
Her logical brain managed to push through the fog, just a bit, as she turned around to face him once more. With some space between them, she was coming down from her high, realizing that she had never even been that drunk before, just lost in the throes of desire, intoxicated by him and the energy of the crowd surrounding them.
“Be patient, anđele, you’ll be grateful once I’m through with you.”
His words sent another wave of want over her, but she had to fight it, she was tempted to drag him into the bathroom, or worse, back to her flat. But she knew better than that...or did she?
She’d donned her nicest dress, at least, the nicest dress she owned, and had to admit she was feeling confident as she approached the hostess stand. However, she was distracted by the view as the sun set before her, illuminating the skyline of Rome. She took a second to enjoy the moment, to focus on the soon-to-be memory, rather than the elephant in the room.
And as the hostess led her to their table she spotted him, seated by a balcony, looking at the view, nursing a drink. The mere sight of him had desire curling in her belly, and nerves tingling along her skin. It was all so intimidating.
Before she’d left the club, Helmut had asked for her number. The next day he’d Venmo’d her $500 and invited her to dinner. You aren’t working tonight, the memo had said. It sounded like she didn’t have a choice, so she didn’t.
She didn’t have words to describe how she felt about it all. Like she’d said before, she wasn’t used to attention from men, especially not someone like him. And she knew almost nothing about him, what he did for a living, where he was from. Hell, she didn’t even know his last name for fucks sake. This whole situation could be dangerous, but for some reason, she was still intrigued.
“Well at least if you die tonight, I can tell your family it was in pursuit of a sugar daddy,” Tiff had teased as she helped her get ready.
“I don’t know if that’s what this is.”
“Please,” her roommate rolled her eyes. “It totally is, and it’s totally hot. And so is he.”
She couldn’t disagree. But she still wasn’t sure what exactly to make of the whole situation.
“Buona sera,” Helmut stood to greet her. “Come stai?”
“Molto bene, grazie,” she answered softly, though she wasn’t sure if that was honest.
“How lovely it is to see you tonight,” he purred, as a waiter poured them both a glass of wine from a bottle. “I hope you don’t mind, I already ordered a bottle of wine for us. But if you’d like something else, by all means...”
“No this is…” she glanced at the label as her glass was being filled with the crimson liquid. The label looked vintage, and probably pricey. “This is good.”
“I thought you might appreciate a nice Italian wine,” he said. “This one is from Tuscany.”
As if that meant anything to her, her normal choice of wine was Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joes. But, she was still flattered, even though someone with a more refined palette deserved to try it instead of her.
Clinking glasses with him and taking a sip, she looked out over the skyline of Rome once more. The sun had set, but there was still a bit of light in the sky, and they were tucked away from everyone else, out of sight. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose, so he could try to feel her up, not that she would’ve minded.
Taking a deep breath, she decided they had enough privacy to bring up what was on her mind, especially because he seemed to be avoiding it.
“Listen, Helmut, I need to tell you something…” she began.
“About the money you gave me-”
His expression turned from one of contentment to something much darker. “It is impolite to discuss such matters in public, and especially not at dinner.”
“Well when else are we supposed to-”
“After, once we retire to my room.”
“Retire to your room?” she raised an eyebrow. “How presumptuous.”
“Is it, though?” he gave her a knowing look, and a once-over. “Just a few days ago you were begging me to fuck you in the middle of a club.”
It shut her up. That sort of audacity would normally turn her off, but now, coming from his mouth, it sent tongues of heat up her neck. She squeezed her thighs together. His expression softened, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“Schatzi, I’ve spent much of my life like you, always running around, focused on my next accomplishment. And because of it, I missed many precious moments I’ll never be able to get back,” briefly, a sadness crossed over his features. She flickered down to the hand that worried about the stem of his wine glass. He didn’t wear a wedding ring.
“Let’s enjoy dinner,” he said, leaning back in his chair to look at the menu and take in the view once more. She supposed he was right.
Her evening with Helmut was pleasant, surprisingly so. He was not the party boy she thought him to be, after their first encounter, as he wooed her with his knowledge of literature and history. He was well-educated and well-read, but not condescendingly so. She was impressed by his nature, and despite their clear differences in upbringing, they got on quite well. Most importantly, he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, despite the fact that her life was incredibly mundane and boring in comparison to his.
He had a way of making her feel special, the way his eyes met her own, the occasional flirtatious remark he’d make. The conversation rarely lulled and if it did, it didn't feel wrong, and they would settle into a comfortable silence as they ate their food.
By the end of the meal and a few too many glasses of wine, Helmut paid the bill. When she reached for her purse to offer him money, he looked genuinely offended, waving her off dismissively.
Shivering as they stood, Helmut draped her jacket over her shoulders and pulled her towards him by her waist. His touch lit her on fire again, brought her right back to the dance floor, his hands on her hips, the feeling of his cock grinding into her ass. She’d spent each night trying to rid herself of the lingering arousal using her own fingers, but it hadn’t been very helpful.
The suite he’d chosen was nice, though she supposed even the most inexpensive rooms at this hotel were. But she couldn’t appreciate the decor, as the moment they stepped through the threshold Helmut spun her around and pressed his mouth against hers. Snaking his arms around her waist, he took two steps backward and she hit the wall, pinned in place by his hips against hers. She moaned into his mouth, responding to him instantly.
“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you all night,” he growled, his hands dipping beneath the skirt of her dress to trace along her bare skin. It made her squirm, and she began to rut against him, lifting a leg to wrap around his waist.
But before she could find any relief he pulled away, rather abruptly, leaving her breathless, as he stalked to a small sitting area of the hotel. How he managed to remain so composed after kissing her like that was a mystery. He lifted an envelope off the table, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, passing it to her.
“But before I forget, this is for you,” he said.
Opening it, oblivious, she felt her eyes widen when she saw what was in it, a fat wad of cash. “That should be enough to cover your rent for the summer,” he said, sitting down and crossing his ankle over his legs, his arm over the back of the couch. Still dizzy with excitement she looked down at him.
“Helmut, I can’t-”
“Ah-ah,” he tutted. “You will. You’ll never experience Italy if you are working all the time.”
“This is insane,” she said, but was beginning to think her friend had been right.
“I’m a baron, schatzi, that is nothing,” he gestured to the envelope. “Don’t let such things trouble you.”
“A baron…” she trailed off, and her mind began working. It made sense, she supposed, why his work seemed so flexible, why he spent money like it was nothing. But there was something more, she thought.
She’d taken a few classes on European culture before her study abroad semester, and though she’d spent most of it asleep due to her crazy schedule, there was a name in the back of her head that she’d long since forgotten, one written on a whiteboard behind her professor the day after she’d pulled an all-nighter.
“Helmut Zemo,” she said to him softly, finally snapping the final piece of the puzzle into place. It all made sense, why he’d looked familiar when she first met him. A Sokovian Baron, a terrorist. “You’re supposed to be in jail.” He frowned, slightly, but didn’t respond. “Oh my god.’
The envelope, and the cash slipped from her fingers, unceremoniously fluttering to the coffee table, littering the floor.
“Schatzi, come sit...”
Her mind was spinning but she didn’t pull away from him when he tugged her to the couch and tucked her under his arm. And how could she? She didn’t know much about him, really, except that he was dangerous. Or at least, he was supposed to be. He’d only been kind to her, she couldn’t imagine any part of him being cruel.
“I thought you’d already figured it out,” he murmured.
As much as she wanted to be angry, it was hard to be with him so close. His presence was unsettlingly comforting and really, some ugly side of her was turned on by the whole idea. She liked it, though she would never admit it to herself.
The whole story came back to her now. He’d lost his whole family in the Battle of Sokovia, his son, his wife, his father. And although she didn’t condone the extremes he’d gone to avenge their deaths, all she saw before her now was a broken man, seeking companionship. And he wanted it from her. She didn’t understand it, but she supposed that didn’t matter.
“Let me show you Italy,” he coaxed, his deep brown eyes soft when she looked at them again. “You’ll have anything you could ever want.”
“You work so hard to take care of yourself, tirelessly. Won’t you just let me take care of you?”
His voice, a low purr in her ear, rekindled the fire she’d been feeling from a few nights before and she decided it wasn’t her responsibility to turn in a dangerous criminal. Especially not one so handsome, so gracious, so impossible for her to resist. She kissed him this time, open-mouthed and needy. And really, why had she been so stubborn? She would’ve let him fuck her for free.
Helmut must have sensed the shift in attitude, because he spent very little time kissing her before his hands were roaming her body, squeezing and grabbing at her exposed flesh. His hand hooked behind her knee and pulled her across his lap so he could cup her ass.
Every touch reminded her of the night they’d spent together, how close his fingers had been to where she needed him, and he had given her nothing. She hoped he would tonight. “I want you so badly, Helmut,” she mumbled into the skin of his neck.
“Don’t worry, anđele, daddy is going to give you everything you need.”
“Please,” she mumbled after his words, she could feel how wet she was already, aching and clenching around nothing. His hand slid up between her parted thighs, she was still hovering over him, and his knuckles brushed against the front of her panties.
She let out a whimper, even the slightest bit of pressure was a relief, even though it didn’t last long. Pushing aside the fabric, he finally made contact with her skin, fingers dipping into her folds and spreading around her wetness.
“You’ve made such a mess of yourself for me, haven’t you, darling?”
“Yes,” she answered, hoping she was telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Looking down into his burning gaze, he chuckled darkly. It allowed her just enough time to be distracted from the feeling of his hands on her, until, without warning, he thrust two fingers into her soaked cunt.
“Fuck,” she nearly collapsed on him, pitching forward with the sensation, the way it felt for her body to yield to him so easily.
“Ah-” he used his free hand to push her backwards. “Stay on your knees,” he commanded. “I want to see your pretty face when you come for me.”
“Fuck, Helmut, I need-” she cried out, not even sure what she was protesting as he worked her open. His thumb found her clit, pressing down, and she wasn’t sure if it was a response to her inquiry, but it was exactly what she had hoped for.
It was hard to hold herself up, her walls throbbing and fluttering around the intrusion of him, she was growing wetter and wetter, and he was reaching all the spots she hadn’t been able to herself, especially when he added a third finger.
She wasn’t going to last. It was embarrassing but she couldn’t help it. Before she knew it she was rutting her hips against him, seeking more friction. His free hand rose to her neck, squeezing, and she grew even more lightheaded and feeble. Helmut’s fingers curled, finding the spot that none of her other lovers bothered to find. When she looked down to meet his gaze, eyes stormy but warm, she felt herself begin to tighten around him.
“Don’t stop, I’m so-” she began, but was unable to finish her sentence before it happened, tumbling over the edge as she came hard, clenching around his fingers. Everything went black - she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d closed her eyes or it was the intensity of the orgasm alone, but it didn’t really matter. Her knees gave out beneath her, and she fell forward, whimpering and whining his name, head on his shoulder, panting in his ear.
“That’s it,” he praised softly. “Such a good girl for me.”
Slowly, he withdrew from her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before lifting his digits to his mouth. Watching him, she felt the ache between her legs return as he greedily sucked her arousal from his fingers.
Pitching forward, she couldn’t hold back the giggle that passed her lips, relieved and incredulous. But it wasn’t enough. He cursed under his breath as she palmed at his pants, grappling at him.
“Fuck,” he pulled her hands away from him, forcing her to straighten up as his eyes locked with hers. “Strip for me.”
No man she’d ever been with had been so abrupt, so domineering. And with anyone else, she might have found it dramatic, even embarrassing. But he was so confident, so sure of himself, each command he gave she’d obey without question.
Stepping away from him, she snaked her thumbs under the straps at her shoulders, pushing them off as he watched her under the dim light of the room. Even though she’d never stripped for anyone before, not like this at least, but the way he looked at her, all-consuming with his eyes, made her feel sexy. Slowly, she moved with purpose, delaying his gratification, as she pushed the fabric over her hips, letting it skate down her thighs and to the floor.
His breath hitched in his throat, she could hear it, as he rubbed a hand over his stubbled cheek. As deliberate and sensual as she was trying to be, it was growing hard to be patient when he was looking at her like that.
Off came her bra, followed by her panties, which she had the forethought to match, having some semblance of an idea of where the night might take her. For once, being an overthinker paid off.
“Oh liebling, you are more beautiful than I imagined.”
It was hard not to beam at him, grinning like an idiot, and while she wasn’t sure exactly what this relationship entailed, he still managed to make her blush, whether he was trying to or not.
“Now you,” she giggled, and he chuckled slightly at her.
“Ah-ah….you don’t get to call the shots,” he warned, before growing serious. “I’ll have you on the bed.”
She would test the waters eventually, she thought, to see how far she could push him. But tonight, it was clear she’d get what she wanted if she just listened. And she didn’t think she could go much longer without his hands on her.
Legs still a little wobbly, she made her way over to the bed and he stalked behind her, loosening his tie and tossing it to the floor. He spun her around right as she reached the bed, and she stumbled, falling backwards, only to be met with the plush mattress.
Helmut was on her quickly, pulling her into another searing kiss, and she parted her legs so he could slot himself between her thighs. Impatiently, she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, managing to work her way down to his belt, and he didn’t protest when she pushed the garment off his shoulders, exposing his bare chest.
His hands roamed her body, met her bare breasts and squeezed, cupping them and pinching her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. Crying out, she was torn away from her focus on his belt buckle briefly. His mouth latched onto another, sucking and nipping and she keened into the contact.
Eventually, she managed to loosen his belt, unbuttoning his fly and shucking down his pants, his hard cock bobbing in his boxers, and she grabbed him through the thin fabric.
He groaned into mouth, she tasted the desire on his tongue, pumped him a few times before reaching her hand under the elastic band, freeing him fully. He was big, intimidatingly so, and she wanted to be concerned about how he would fit inside her but she didn’t have the time, as he pushed her to her back, coming to his hands and knees to hover over her.
“Normally I’d spend more time on you,” he mumbled, as he rolled them to their sides, slotting his knee between her legs so she couldn’t provide herself with anymore friction. “But not tonight.”
“I need you,” was all she could answer.
Somehow soon she was hovering over him, her hips straddling his as she stood on her knees, and he guided the head of his cock to her entrance, teasing her until she finally stopped him. Slowly, she began to sink down onto him, moaning, the girth of him alone was a lot to take.
“You’re so big,” she whimpered, wondering if riding him was really the best decision. But the discomfort was just so, not too much for her to handle. In fact, the burn of him pressing inside of her had her growing even wetter.
“And you’re going to take all of me,” he answered. When she flinched, her body meeting resistance, Helmut bucked his hips up, almost a little cruelly, and she was forced to take him deeper, a sharp cry leaving her mouth.
Once he was fully seated inside of her, he thrusted upwards, so deep she could feel him in the pit of her stomach, the back of her throat. It felt incredible, but overwhelming, so it took her some time to begin to move. The first shift of her hips alone had her eyes rolling back into her head, her limbs growing numb.
But Helmut didn’t allow her to stay still for long, he worked up into her in time with her movements, as she built up a steady rhythm and rode his cock. One of his hands kneaded into the soft flesh at her hips, the other rose to her mouth, thumb tracing along her bottom lip before he pressed it forward, into her mouth, and she sucked on it while she fucked him.
“Good girl,” he praised her, whispering compliments along with other filth she would never dare to repeat outside the room they were in, about how good she was being for daddy, about how well she was taking his cock. And she certainly didn’t mind it. Already sensitive and from her previous orgasm, she felt her second of the night creeping up as he stretched her open and hit every spot imaginable inside of her.
But she was struggling to stay consistent as she approached her release, pausing every now and then to catch her breath and keep her strength. Helmut must have noticed, even he seemed frustrated, and with one swift movement he flipped her over, his body never leaving hers as her back hit the mattress and he was the deepest inside of her he’d been all night. That alone was all she needed and she came again, this time around his cock.
Cursing and whimpering his name, Helmut answered with a moan, but he composed himself quickly. “That didn’t take long, did it?” he taunted, and she didn’t have the strength to answer.
She didn’t need to, as he fucked into her then, leaving her no time to recover. The nerves all over her body were tingling, begging, crying for some kind of break but it was clear Helmut wouldn’t allow it as he drove into her.
“I know you have another one for me, schatzi,” he grunted, frenzied. “Come on my cock again, I know you can.”
“I can’t-“ she gasped, but beyond her body crying for a break came another sensation, another coil winding deep in her belly. “Please, I-”
She was unintelligible by this point, her protests fruitless. He was a man who almost always got what he wanted.
“Yes you can,” he growled into her ear. “Let go.”
There was no way she’d be able to walk straight in the morning, that was for sure. His words had her back arching off the bed, still protesting weakly even as she came for him the third time that night, seeing stars. But even then, he wasn’t finished, he was now focused on his own release and she could hear the slick of herself as her sore and soaking cunt took him over and over.
Their lips met once more, sloppily, feverish, as her nails raked up his back. He was close, no longer holding back, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Through the haze of overstimulation, she looked upon him. A thin sheet of sweat had broken out across his brow, along his shoulders, heat radiating off every inch of his body, a curtain of his dark hair falling in his face.
Bottoming out one last time, she felt him throbbing inside of her as he came, cursing loudly as his lips latched at her neck, catching the sensitive skin between his teeth. She cried out, startled by the sensation, but it didn’t hurt, at least not yet, while she was still coming down from her high.
In the aftermath he was surprisingly tender, which she was grateful for, as he helped her clean herself up. She slipped under the cool, clean sheets while he made nightcaps for the two of them.
“I’m flying to Lake Como next week,” Helmut said as he handed her a cocktail. “My family has an estate there I haven’t visited in awhile. I’d like it if you joined me.”
Even though she probably had to work, there was a way she could call off, or even telecommute. She wasn’t going to refuse him anymore, especially not if he was going to fuck her like he just had while they were away together. At any rate, she was sure this would be a semester she’d never forget.
Zemo tag: @juice-1981 @marvelsvision @pattispunk @msmarvelwrites @professorrw