Poisonous

Sounds like something a dork would say

Hiiiiii babes. I'm sorry for the absolute garbage smut last chapter. I tried my best. Anyways I haven't seen the new episode yet but I'm trying to write at least half of this before episode 5 comes out. There could be spoilers idk yet. I don't think y'all understand how ANGRY continuity errors make me. Like Bucky was all bruised and cut up after the battle with John and somehow when he goes to see Zemo his face is perfectly fine. Ughhhhh I'm fixing it here but come on y'all marvel needs to hire me for continuity. If i shared the spotify playlist I listen to while writing would you guys want to listen to it. I just realized y'all will never know how much dialogue gets cut to keep these chapters from being all talking. It's at least ten or more lines a chapter. 

Y/N woke up the next morning in Zemo's arms. Remembering the night before, she cringed slightly. Not that it wasn't a good night, it was a great night. Her breath caught in her throat at the memory of the things they had done.

She was surprised that she had fallen asleep because she had never been able to do so if no one else was awake. She didn't think much of it because she had been so sleep deprived and she was worn out after their sexual encounter.

Turning around in his arms, she admired his peaceful sleeping face. She traced patterns on his chest, careful not to wake him because she knew once he woke it would be over.

When he woke she would have to push him away and pretend the night before didn't mean anything to her. But for now she could enjoy being held by him.

His eyes fluttered open at her soft touch. "I can feel you staring at me," he murmured.

She pulled her hand away and tried to wiggle out of his arms. "You wanna fight, pretty boy?" she teased.

He laughed at her childish antics, not letting go of her waist. "What's that even supposed to mean?" he questioned.

She decided to play into the teasing, liking that it was getting a reaction. "Pretty boy? What, you don't like it?" she rolled over so she was laying on his chest, gazing down at him.

He sighed and replied, "I didn't say I don't like it. I just asked what it means."

She tensed up at his questioning. Her intention to keep their relationship professional was clearly not coming to fruition. "I don't know. You've got a nice face," she mumbled, not able to meet his eyes.

He gently grabbed her face with one hand, forcing her to look at him. He raised his eyebrows, wordlessly requesting for her to elaborate. "And um soft hands," she added, reaching her hand up to cover his.

He smiled at this gesture. "A very cute smile as well," she complimented.

His positive reaction to her praise was encouragement enough for her to continue. "I like your nose.. oh and your eyes are beautiful."

She stopped talking for a moment, running out of things to say that wouldn't sound too clingy. "You're pretty, that's my professional opinion," she finished.

He fought to contain the smile that had been forming on his face. Her little praises of him were utterly adorable. The way her face flushed when she spoke was something he could look at all day. "This is a good thing?" he asked.

She jerked out of his grip and rested her head on his chest so she didn't have to look at him. "Sure, I mean it's not bad," she answered.

He absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, drawing a surprised sigh from her mouth. "You confuse me. I can't tell how you feel," he said.

Uncomfortable with such a direct statement, she laughed awkwardly. "That is generally my goal in life."

"You can trust me," he said, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.