"Stop it, you two. Bucky and I are friends. Don't even go there." I shook my head at them.
"Oh, come on Max! You know you have a thing for him!" The blonde teased.
"Had. I had a thing for him. Past tense. And that was, like, my sophomore year of h...
Small trigger warning: mentions of getting beat (no graphic details, but talks of it), use of potentially offensive language.
Edit to authors notes on 4/18
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That's it.
That's fucking it.
I'm buying new curtains.
With an annoyed groan, I went to roll off of my bed but was held down under the weight of Buckys arm pressing me into the bed.
I took a deep breath and blew the loose strands of hair out of my face and decided to roll the other way to be able to face him.
His left arm was draped over my waist and his right arm was tucked under his pillow. His face was squished into the pillow and soft sigh left his plump lips. His dark hair was flat from sleep, causing a few strands to hang in front of his face.
I slid my hand up and combed the strands back and cupped his face, rubbing my thumb along his cheekbones. Admiring how the morning sun made him glow.
"Goo'mornin'." He whispered as I kissed his forehead.
"Morning handsome. How did you sleep?" I asked, trying to roll over in order to climb off of the bed and get ready for the day.
"Not long enough. Now come back here." He groaned, yanking back to him and making me giggle as his arms trapped me against him and he buried his face into my neck.
It had been a few days since he shaved, his light stubble rubbing against my neck as he nuzzled closer to me. Pulling me closer and closer, like he was trying to melt us into one person.
I rolled over once more to face him, kissing the center of his chest and placing my hand over where my lips just were. The gesture rewarded me with a kiss on the forehead and a soft sigh.
"Be careful, doll." He mumbled into my hair.
"What? Why?"
"Because, if you keep waking me up with sweet kisses and that fucking perfect giggle, I'm never going to want to go to bed without you."
"Mmm," I hummed while I peppered soft kisses up and down his neck, "and tell me, B," I continued, flipping him onto his back, and sitting on him with both legs draped over his sides, "why do you make it sound like it's such a bad thing?"
"Oh, my sweet Ror. I never said it was a bad thing." He whispered, running a hand through my hair.
I smiled against his neck and breathed in his morning scent. Sandalwood and the odd hint of nicotine. I've never seen him do it, but he always has that underlaying hint of cigarettes. Just enough to smell, but only if you were pressed up against him.
