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Being the wife of Baron Helmut Zemo was an interesting experience, especially because you were nearly ten years younger. The two of you had met and bonded over your hatred of super soldiers, you joining his crusade after the fall of Sokovia. Because of your age difference though, you often received insults and comments from the people you encountered, calling you his sugar baby, or toy, or other things along those lines. Usually these comments didn’t bother you, you could handle yourself, and Helmut never hesitated to stick up for you. Not to mention that behind closed doors, you were indeed his little plaything, but the world didn’t need to know that.
In one particular instance however, soon after Sergeant Barnes broke you and your husband out of prison, you snapped. The two of you took your american companions to the house in Latvia on your quest to find information on Karli Morgenthau and the Flag Smashers. You had been there for a few days now and knew that soon enough the new Captain America was bound to show up. What you didn't expect was for him to be a completely pig headed man.
Your little group had encountered John Walker and his companion, Lemar Hoskins, somewhat by accident after coming from the Riga GRC shelter. Immediately, you knew you did not trust him nor like him, but maybe you could gain some entertainment from the interaction.
“Let’s pretend,” you whispered to your husband in his native Sokovian. “It might be fun.”
“Alright my dear,” Helmut responded with a light chuckle at your antics. “Make me proud.”
“And who is this?” Walker said, gesturing in your direction and letting his gaze travel across your body.
“I don’t understand,” you said, looking up at your husband, putting on your best doe eyes and clinging to his arm. “Who is you?” you added with a heavier accent than you normally spoke with hoping that Bucky’s dislike of Walker would lead him to play along. You heard him let out a little huff of breath that sounded suspiciously close to a chuckle, Sam rolling his eyes in turn.
“Schatz, this is Captain America,” Helmut explained in his best condescending voice.
“Oh Zemo, did you pick up a little foreign whore along the way?” Walker taunted, unwittingly testing your willpower not to laugh at him. You were right, this was fun, so far. “I imagine you don’t get much action in prison, so how much are you paying this one to be your little cocksleeve? The way she’s looking at you like you hung the moon makes me think she doesn’t even know what she’s missing out on with a real man.”
That exact moment is when you let your facade drop, your face stone cold in response to the distasteful remarks about you and your husband. You had expected a little fun, a jab about Helmut being your sugar daddy or something that you’ve heard before, only to drop the act and embarrass the man. You were just as protective of Helmut as he was of you, both of you willing to kill for each other. A fact that the man standing in front of you apparently was not aware of.
If Walker had noticed your change in demeanor he didn’t show it, he just kept that same patronizing smile, barely able to keep his eyes on your face.
“Contrary to what you may think, perceiving us as a wealthy couple with a somewhat considerable age gap, he is not paying me for anything,” you snapped in perfect English, dropping Helmut’s arm and stepping closer to Walker. “You seem to be a relatively smart man, I doubt that the American government would give a title such as Captain America to a half wit, but what you said to me just now seems fit to be in the mouth of a prepubescent asshole with very few social skills, not a three time medal of honor winner. So I may be wrong.”
Walker seethed in front of you, not giving you an answer straight away, he hated being wrong more than just about anything in the world. Instead he waited until you had turned away from him to give any response.
“I guess I was right then about you being his bitch then,” he said. “He must have trained you real good to defend him like that.”
Helmut raised a questioning eyebrow to you, asking you if you wanted him to step in but you shook your head and in one swift movement spun around, letting your left hand fly, backhanding Walker across his face. The Americans in attendance stood shocked at your actions, but you could feel Helmut’s proud gaze on you as you defended his honor and your own.
“That sting you feel is from the obvious source of my hand, however, the small cut you will find there is from my wedding ring,” you spat. “Which you may have noticed if you possessed any basic observational skills. You may call yourself Captain America, but you will never be.”