A Nap Will Be Good
So, I decided it would be fun to do an overly detailed scene with you and Bucky cuddling.Y’all it’s just fluff... Like seriously just fluffy crapola!
After a ridiculously long day, you thought it would a good idea to just curl up on the couch and take a nap for a while. You deserved it, after all. All the stress you’ve been under does nothing to help with these awful sinus headaches you’ve been having.
Yea...a nap will be good.
You grab your favorite blanket. A light green thrown that seemed like it would be way to rough for anyone to actually enjoy. But no, it was great. It was heavy enough to keep you warm, but also light enough that you didn’t feel like you were being smothered. The edges had these little fringe-y tassels on them. But you never actually felt the edges of it - you were always swallowed whole because of how big these thing was.
Wrapping your blanket around you shoulders, you sit in the exact middle of the couch. Actually, your couch used to have pretty good structure. Not so much now, it’s pretty old and has been put through quite a beating ... more than once. Now, it just kinda sinks as you sit on it. It’s welcoming as you lay over resting your head on a pillow.
Yea...you deserve this.
As you slept you half-knowingly hear your deadbolt click and some keys drop to the table next to the door.
“Babe?” a booming voice, echoing around the room. A little too loud for you to enjoy your nap.
“mHhm,” you respond; not even parting your lips to acknowledge his existence. You tried your vary hardiest to greet each other with a kiss whenever you’d been apart. But not this time - the couch was to comfortable, the blanket too warm, and the pillow supporting your neck just right. You couldn’t risk moving.
You remember Bucky standing behind the couch and seeing you asleep. You’re sure you looked like crap: hair pressed against your face and curled into a little ball draped in your blanket. But still he leaned down and planted a gentle kiss to your temple. He seemed to always know exactly what you needed.
it had to be about twenty minuets later when you opened your eyes. Bucky was sitting on the floor across the room from you - his legs bend slightly as his heels stayed planted on the floor, his arms resting on his knees. He was holding one of those long sticks for fires. . .you really need to find out what those are called. . .carefully moving the logs around in the fireplace that was before him. He has a raging fire going. It crackled and snapped like never before - the soothing noise bouncing off the walls.
“Hey,” you finally say, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.
“More headaches?” he asks without even looking, just rearranging the logs.
“Yea,” finally releasing your eyes from too much rubbing.
“Well,” standing, “lets skip the screens and just hang out here.” walking over towards you. As he reached where you sat, he squatted down, “Want any meds?”
“No, I took some on the way home.”
And with a simple shake of his head, he stood and moved the pillow which was still in the perfect position. Instead, he sat down and propped his arm up against the back of the couch. Looking at him, you narrowed your eyes not quite sure what he was doing.
“You gonna come over here,” he asked nodding his head towards himself.
With a smile that felt the size of your face, you laid back over and rested your head on his chest. You both kind of re-situated a little bit, before finally settling down. You knew he wasn’t a big fan of this - he barely even liked to be hugged. So you drank in every detail you could. How his shirt felt against your cheek, almost too soft. And how his scent just saturated everything. He smelt like a man, no smell in particular - just like someone who you wouldn’t want to meet in a back alley, but also someone who could be a gentleman. You memorized the way his stomach flexed when you placed your hand on him. And how cold his arm was when he fixed the blanket from falling off your shoulder. How his chest would rise and fall with every long, frighteningly slow, breath he would take. The little smiles he pulled from you when you heard him clearing his throat and moving his hips a little trying to adjust to this much. . .touch.
“Thank you,” with your hand gently resting under your head on his chest, watching the fire he built.
He seemed to take a deeper breath, one that almost relaxed him. Almost. And kissed your forehead, leaving a ridiculous smile across your face.
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