Bucky was touch starved.
For so many years, he'd been treated like less than human. Like a weapon. Like a soldier. Until he met you. You changed him in more ways than he could have ever imagined. Let him open up, be real. Be honest.
Be human.
Laid out beside him, his hands traced your curves. Taking his time, memorizing every freckle, every soft sigh from your lips. Your lips...made him feel human. The way you kissed him. Your pout in the morning when you refused to wake up. The way certain words were formed. Especially "I love you."
Yes, you loved him. Another thing that made him feel human.
"Want you. Need you."
His words were soft. Gentle. Not a hint of hesitation. Not a hint of worry. Not anymore. He didn't need it, not with you. You never denied him touch, love. Desire and want. You simply couldn't. He needed it, to feel less than what they made him, he said. To feel deeply...to feel human.
"Take me," you whispered, so he did.
Laying you back, hands still feeling, exploring. Making you moan his name over and over like the most sinful prayer. Making his heart beat faster and faster. Making his head spin. Making him want you more and more. Making him absolutely need you. Every part.
Spread out, hands making goosebumps rise. Lips making you ache. His fingers between your thighs, so achingly desperate to make you come. To hear it. To feel it. Wanting you so badly that he ached in his jeans. Wanting to completely take you.
But he was always patient.
He wanted it to last. He needed it to last. He didn't want to rush. No, you had all the time in the world now. No more fighting. No more wars. He was no longer the soldier Hydra made him. He was something different now. He was yours. His heart, body and soul belonged to you.
"Moan," he said softly, your back arching as his fingers slipped inside you. Pumping slow-fast-slow-fast, pushing you to the absolute brink. Hanging over the edge. Aching to let go. But he always drew it out. He loved the sounds.
"Moan, sweet angel. Pretty eyes," he whispered and it stirred your soul. Something so deep within you. The genuine honesty. How absolutely real his words were. The love behind them. Bucky was something new...something human again. Because of you.
"Let go. Let me feel you." So you did, crying his name. A sweet song, like a symphony in his ears. Ringing in his head. How did he do it? How did he get here? Get this lucky? What had he done to earn it? Earn your love and affection?
Rolling over you, he wasted no time. Burying himself impossibly deep. Feeling your heat, your wetness. There he was again...human. No longer a monster. One not allowed to feel anything. No emotions, no love. No pleasure. So deprived for decades. Nearly a century. Now...this.
"You're beautiful," he panted, one hand bracing himself, the other feeling you. Just touching, feeling. Soft skin, breathy moans. Heaven. Heaven to Bucky. Here with you, nothing else. No distractions. No sounds but the two of you.
"Come again, sweetheart," he begged, slow strokes hitting that spot over and over again. Making you cry out, making you crazy. Getting so close to the edge again. Bringing you there. Making you explode.
"Beautiful," he praised, kissing down your neck, across your jaw and to your lips. Deep, passionate. Real, raw. Filled with nothing but love and admiration. For you and you alone. "So close," he panted, picking up the pace. Harder, faster. Somehow even deeper, you'd feel it for days.
When he came, it was beautiful.
Your favorite part. Watching him let go. Knowing you did that to him. That the feel of you brought him that much pleasure. That he wanted that with you and you alone. That you did it - made him feel alive.
Feel human.
