Bucky was a gentleman through and through. That especially went for you; he loved opening doors, pulling chairs, buying flowers, and sending his boyfriend letters about how much he missed your smile and eyes. The faint scent of his cologne lingered on the letters, a comforting reminder of his presence even when he was away.

Everything he did was in hopes of showing you and himself that he was more than his past. The weight of his history sometimes still pressed on him like a stone, but your touch had a way of making it feel lighter, more manageable.

Even now, in your bed, Bucky's frame hovered over yours as he panted heavily against your jaw. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating a cocoon of heat that blocked out the rest of the world. He put your pleasure above his own, always. The white wolf was desperate to melt into your skin and take residence there, to become something permanent and good.

His organic hand brushed your hair back before traveling down and wrapping around your neck, his thumb gently caressing the sensitive skin there. He held the nape of your neck as he pressed soft kisses along your jaw, each one sending shivers down your spine.