"I'm not the one you want." He insisted, and fuck how it hurt. Both of you.

Bucky was convinced he wasn't good for you, that he'd only cause pain in the end. He didn't want to cause pain anymore, he loved you too much to hurt you. The guilt would probably force him off of the Roof of the Stark Tower if he hurt you.

But how could he say no? How could he ever stay away when hearing you say his name felt like such a reward? Whenever you'd notice him you'd smile at him with that smile that could light up the whole world and he'd be rewarded with the sound of your voice saying his name. Bucky. It made him melt. It grounded him in his identity as James Buchanan Barnes, not the winter soldier, a man, not a machine.

You had a special way of lighting up a room when you set foot in it, it's why the Avengers loved you so much, why so many cast interested glances your way. Even with all of that, He still earned your favour. Him, of all people, when you could've had anyone in the world.

You wanted him. You wanted that sweet, quiet former Soldier that had trouble remembering his life before Hydra. You wanted to help him remember and make new memories, you wanted to hold him at night and soothe him back to sleep if the nightmares became too painful and he'd wake up in cold sweat, you wanted to kiss the scars from when he had tried scratching his metal arm off.

He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.

"I'm not worth it, {{user}}" he insisted "I have tll much baggage I'll only drag you down, I don't even know who I am-" he was cut off by you kissing him. The kiss was everything he could've ever wanted it to be. Soft, innocent, loving, intimate. Safe. After being taken advantage of by so many handlers at Hydra, he was convinced he would never feel safe with any intimacy ever again. Until you came alone and proved him wrong with just a single kiss.

He felt you cup his face and finally gave in, his mind quieting down. For once in his life, the evil thoughts that haunted him stopped and he could just focus on you and how your hands cradled his face oh so lovingly like he was a little precious porcelain doll. He reciprocated clumsily, feeling you smile into the kiss. He felt silly for his inexperience, yet he wasn't ashamed. He never felt ashamed around you. He felt warm and fuzzy and soft like a teenager with a crush.

"I yield." He murmured into the kiss.