deconstruct | v2 OPEN POST;

v2 OPEN POST;

NETWORK | ACTION | PROMPTS | NSFW/SFW | IT'S ALL GRAVY

I'll always come for you, Andyr. Always.

[ Bucky's words hold a quiet vehemence, a powerful promise he whispers against his mouth when he kisses him over and over, bearing him down onto the mattress. His Andyr carries scars no one else should carry; a burden that is terrible and heart-wrenching all at once. He can hear the plaintiveness in his voice, the desperation and the gratitude he laps up and absorbs with a frightening intensity, an eagerness to comfort and to ease all his pain away.

His hands roam Andyr's body, tracking over every inch of skin and marking him, fingers digging into flesh lightly here and there, leaving light bruises that will heal within hours. Bucky's nudging Andyr's legs open because he knows what he needs, when he's here like this and he needs to get out of his head.

Even so, he's in no hurry. He's hitching Andyr's legs around his waist as his mouth finds his, heated and wanting, trailing down to his throat while his free hand comes to wrap around his dick, warm metal wrapped around his heated skin. Bucky makes a soft noise as he finds his way to his mouth again, his dark eyes glittering. ]

I don't care if I have to move the world to find you, Andyr. I always will.

[ Because he will be the one who saves him when no one else is brave enough to step forward; and he would commit every waking moment to keeping him safe and by his side, cleansed from his trauma at the slavers. Bucky can't feel entirely sorry for them, really -- they've had it coming for thinking that they could leash a tiger before Andyr leaped for their throats.

His hand other hand comes to curl around Andyr's throat, gently resting there as he nudges his head up for another deep, hot and searing kiss. ] You belong to me, and I'm going to make sure no one hurts you again.

[ there's hardly even a sting for the pressure that's hard enough to invite bruises to color his skin, blue and purple, for all his body has evolved, has adapted to what he'd been put through, for what his genetic nature tried to do from the inside to protect him. his pain tolerance is absurd, at this point, but he knows the press of bucky's fingers and the curl of his hands against his skin, and he knows there's enough force in it to mark him. it might look odd to be sighing softly, like relief, at the aspect of visible injury, when the same gesture from anyone else would have him insulted and enraged. with bucky, it just feels like becoming human again.

all it takes is the careful nudge to his knees, and Andyr's thighs part to let bucky settled between them, hips cradled against the backs of his legs as they wrap over his waist, twisting around bucky's body and pulling himself as close as he can to his warmth and security. to the streaming words of assurance, protection and such gentle nurturing Andyr hasn't known in what feels like a lifetime. he breathes out with murmured words, nodding his head. ] I believe you, Bucky.

[ of all the people on the ship who've told him about how they'd come help him fight his war back home, or how they'd want to save him from something like that, right now, Bucky's the only one he truly believes.

too strong emotion, like a fever rising in him, swells, making his chest feel tight, and with Bucky reaching between them to take him in hand and stroke arousal along his cock, it's a very personal kind of intimacy they don't typically have. andyr bare in every sense of the word, and bucky all strong muscle and sturdy support, still dressed from after his shower, entirely in control of this. a shaky inhale goes through him, throat hitching under Bucky's hand, and leaves him slowly, with a faint moan, as his hips push up into the metal circling his dick, pumping sweetly. ]

I'm sorry. [ it just tumbles out, in the freefall of all that's he's letting go, and andyr shakes his head a bit, eyes closed, with a crease between his brows, not even sure what he's apologizing for. for being a mess? certainly not for the bloodbath he'd left behind. for not saving himself? for what compromise of his dignity he'd made in order to wait for the moment he needed to safely snap back, rather than just his proud, no exceptions refusal and defiance he'd always carried before. not that bucky had been there for that, not that he's in his head now to know, but there's still that shame in him, as if he knows, as if the entire ship does.

andyr mutters it again, i'm sorry, but pushes to press his face into the curve of bucky's shoulder and neck, as if that could block out the entire reality of it. his legs around bucky's hips squeeze and pull at him, arching up for more of him, as his hands pick at the closures of his top, and the fly of his pants shortly after, wanting to get to his skin - his stomach, his chests, his hips, anything so long as it's him. ]

Don't be sorry. [ He says quietly, firmly, taken by the way Andyr yields to him. He calms that frantic, fluttering nature with infinite patience and a tenderness that he guards from everyone else. This is meant for Andyr, a precious, rare thing saved for him; and he grinds against Andyr's naked length, feeling the smaller man rise up against him with a desire that he intends to fulfill.

Tonight, everything revolves around Andyr, everything is about him -- and he only moves away to let Andyr shuck his shirt off, rolling his shoulders gracefully before moving back to crush his mouth against his. ]

Never be sorry. [ He's insistent, his hand pulling away from Andyr's throat as he continues to stroke his cock. Bucky's devotion is silent but evident, his attention centered completely on his needs.

Feeling Andyr thrust into his hand is a sensuous, erotic thing, and he murmurs against his mouth, feeling that naked cock rub up against his jeans. He has the control here, but he uses it for Andyr's sake, keeps him safe and drives the nightmares away.

He reaches for the lubricant by the bedside and offers it to him. ] I'm going to take care of you, Andyr. Tell me what you want. Let me make you feel good.

[ the moment bucky's shirt is off and tossed away, andyr's arms reach up, wrapping over broad shoulders, and around his side, pulling his face to bucky's chest, burrowing against the side of his neck and hiding himself there, against the strength of the man's torso. bucky's always so solid, and nothing feels safer to him than this - being curled against that sturdiness, feeling bucky's weight press down against him and his arms frame his body.

bucky makes him sweet promises, to take care of him, to always find him, to protect him, and puts all the faith he has into him, holding tight and letting the rest of his will crumble for the moment. he's tired of standing on his own, picking him back up every time he's knocked down. bucky's willing and able, and treating his body like something holy right now, andyr's back bow up against him, as his head falls back, and his eyes close. a bottle is pressed into his hand, and andyr doesn't need to look down to know what it is. yes, this is what he needs, exactly this. something good, something kind, something that makes him feel like more than a pile of bones and pretty skin. ]

I want you inside me. [ he's telling him, against bucky's shoulder, as he pops the bottle open, and seeks out bucky's hand. loathe to end the sensation as he is, he's tugging at the one stroke him, pulling him off with a quiet sigh, enough to slick the lubricant along his fingers, and direct him back down. his thighs spread further, hips tilting up, and andyr pulls bucky's hand to slip between his cheeks and press inside him.

he won't take much stretching - they've been doing this a lot lately, and he wants bucky's cock pushing up into him, filling him up and retaking him, as soon as he can. fingers ply at the closures of his pants against, pulling them open and pushing the fabric off his hips, enough that he can coat bucky's dick, make the eventual slide smooth and slick and easy and perfect. ] Slow, I wanna feel it.

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