Helmut Zemo Oneshots

MOMENTS LIKE THIS

Plot: You and Zemo spend time together after a long day

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You always knew you were loved around Zemo. He expressed it through the subtle things like making you tea or whispering how much he loved you during late nights when he assumed you were asleep. Zemo's way of expressing his love came in various different forms, but your favourite was when he'd touch you. You relished the feeling of his fingers dancing across your skin idly as he read a book or busied himself with another activity, just as he was doing now.

Zemo's fingers combed through your hair, a soft sigh of content escaped you as you closed your eyes and enjoyed it. Moments like this were the ones you cherished the most. The two of you on the couch with your head rested in his lap as he read a book, the living room only filled with the light of a few lamps and the gently crackling fireplace. It was the perfect way for you to end the day.

"Helmut, what are you reading?" You asked. The silence, although never awkward with Zemo, was tiring you and you didn't want to fall asleep just yet. You wanted to spend more time with your husband.

"A Farewell To Arms by Ernest Hemingway." He replied, flipping a page.

"I've always heard Hemingway wasn't that good of an author. I've never read anything he's written though." You replied with a yawn.

Zemo let out a small chuckle. "His writing is a little dry and dialogue heavy, it's a hit or miss with people. You sound tired, Liebling. Would you like to go to sleep?"

You shook your head. Sleeping was the last thing you wanted to do. You enjoyed your time with Zemo too much to give it up and fall asleep, even though the prospect of keeping your eyes closed was getting more and more tempting. You opened them, looking up at your husband with a smile. He returned it, looking down at you past his book.

"Would you like me to read to you then?" Zemo asked, his hand playing with a bit of hair by your face.

"What's it about?" You asked in response, unable to read the back of the book from your position.

"It's a love story during World War 1." He marked his place in the book before flipping to the beginning. "Even if you're not a fan of Hemingway, the story itself is a good one."

"Read it to me then." You smiled. You enjoyed the sound of your husband's voice, especially when he read to you. There was something soothing about it, in a way hearing his voice made you feel complete.

"In the late summer of that year we lived in a house that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. In the bed of the river there were pebbles and boulders, dry and white in the sun, and the water was clear and swiftly moving and blue in the channels. Troops went by the house and down the road and the dust they raised powdered the leaves of the trees." Zemo read out loud. However, the sound of his voice lulled you to sleep before he could finish the first paragraph.

He let out a small chuckle, placing the book down on the table beside the couch, looking down at you with adoration. His hand gently stroked your cheek tenderly while he slowly shifted his position to a more comfortable one to sleep in, not wanting to risk waking you while trying to move you to a bed. He leaned his head back on the couch cushion and closed his eyes, a quiet "I love you" slipping past his lips as he began to join you in sleep.