#But this came to mind and I couldn't resist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

surielstea · 3 days ago

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Solstice Special

(NSFW version)

Pairing: ACoTaR makes x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: A compilation of drabbles with a theme of Winter Solstice, just an excuse to write smut really.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ ONLY. pwp, cunninglus, breeding kink (cassian), humiliation kink (azriel), thigh riding, biting kink and mention of blood (Lucien), creampie, p in v, likely a lot of other nasty things.

7.9k words.

Rhys - Sauna

Rhysand had won the snowball fight. Naturally, this victory imbued him with a misplaced sense of entitlement for the rest of the day. He'd declared himself sovereign of all things—including the sauna. Alone.

His decree had prompted groans of protest from the other two winged males, both grumbling about "tradition" and "selfishness" as they trudged back toward the cabin through knee-deep snow. Rhys had merely smirked, unbothered, and turned to me with an outstretched hand.

"Come, darling," he'd said, his tone a silky promise I couldn't resist.

The air inside the sauna was thick and heady, filled with the tang of cedar and the deep, humid heat that wrapped around me like a second skin. Clad in nothing but a towel and a sheen of sweat, I reclined on one of the wooden benches, my head tipped back against the wall, eyes fluttered closed. Each breath filled my lungs with the intoxicating warmth, soothing every tense muscle as it seeped into my very bones.

Across from me, Rhys sat sprawled in his usual languid grace, his own towel draped low on his hips. The steam rose in lazy tendrils around him, blurring the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the wicked curve of his smirk as he watched me. Always watching.

"Comfortable?" he purred, his voice like velvet, dark and inviting.

I hummed in response, too relaxed to bother with words.

His chuckle rolled through the small space, low and decadent as if he'd already won some game I hadn't realized we were playing. "Good. Because I'm not sharing this sauna—or you—with anyone else today."

The heat of the sauna was nothing compared to the heat in Rhysand's gaze. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel it—an unrelenting weight, heavy and deliberate as it traveled the length of my body.

"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to say what's on your mind?" I murmured, my voice lazy, teasing.

A dark chuckle came in response, sending a ripple of awareness through me. "And ruin the view? Not a chance, darling."

I opened my eyes, the steam blurring his form for just a moment before my gaze sharpened on him. Rhys sat sprawled, his towel barely clinging to his hips, droplets of sweat tracing a maddening path down the carved planes of his chest. His wings were draped behind him, dark and sleek, adding to the languid power that radiated from him.

"Do you enjoy torturing yourself, or is this just for my benefit?" I asked, arching a brow as I stretched, the movement deliberately slow.

His smirk deepened, wicked and knowing. "Who says I'm the one being tortured?"

He moved then, fluid and precise, crossing the short distance between us in a single stride. His towel slipped just a fraction lower, and I swallowed hard, my resolve slipping as he knelt before me, his large hands bracketing my thighs. The warmth of his palms seared through the thin towel that clung to my body, his thumbs stroking soft circles against my bare skin.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. "If you keep teasing me, I might decide to retaliate."

"Maybe I want you to," I whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat.

His pupils flared, and the smirk faded, replaced by something darker, hungrier. "You shouldn't have said that, darling."

Before I could respond, his hands gripped my thighs, pulling me closer to the edge of the bench. His body pressed against mine, all heat and strength, as his mouth captured mine in a kiss that stole every ounce of air from my lungs. It wasn't soft or teasing—it was a claiming, pure and unrelenting.

I moaned against him, my hands finding his shoulders, digging into the slick heat of his skin as he devoured me. His tongue swept into my mouth, coaxing and demanding all at once, while his hands roamed, tugging the towel free from my body and leaving me bare beneath him.

The steam wrapped around us, a cocoon of heat and desire as Rhys pulled back just enough to gaze down at me. His eyes were molten, his breathing ragged. "You're beautiful," he murmured, the words reverent, though his hands betrayed the restraint in his voice as they gripped my hips. "And you're mine."

My response was a breathless gasp as he lowered his mouth to my neck, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin before soothing the bite with his tongue. His hands were everywhere, exploring, worshipping, as his kisses trailed lower, leaving a scorching path in their wake.

I arched into him, my body entirely at his mercy, and Rhys, ever the opportunist, took full advantage. His name fell from my lips like a prayer as he settled between my thighs, his touch igniting a fire that threatened to consume us both.

"Relax, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with promise. "Let me take care of you."

Rhysand's words hung in the humid air, melting into the heat that already had me trembling beneath his touch. His hands—strong, calloused, utterly sure of themselves—caressed the bare skin of my thighs, slowly coaxing them apart as he knelt fully between them. The smirk that played on his lips was as wicked as it was breathtaking, and when he glanced up at me, his violet eyes smoldered with unrelenting intensity.

"Beautiful," he murmured again, his voice a velvet rasp. His hands slid higher, thumbs stroking over sensitive skin, his touch both reverent and maddeningly teasing.

I let my head fall back, a shuddering exhale escaping me as I fought to keep from unraveling too soon. The combination of his gaze, his touch, and the heat of the sauna was overwhelming, a heady mixture that left me utterly at his mercy.

"You're too quiet, darling," Rhys teased, his voice laced with amusement and dark intent. "I want to hear you. Every gasp, every moan. Every single sound you make when I touch you."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words never made it past my lips. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him, and then his mouth descended—kisses and bites trailing down my abdomen, each one setting my nerves alight. When his lips finally found the apex of my thighs, I gasped, my hands flying to his dark, sweat-dampened hair.

"Rhys—"

He hummed against me, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. His tongue flicked out, teasing, testing before he gave me everything, his name falling from my lips like a chant. His grip on my hips tightened, holding me steady as he worked me over with infuriating precision like he was savoring every moment, every reaction.

The steam curled around us, the humid air thickening as my body tensed beneath his ministrations. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, and the groan that rumbled from him in response only spurred me closer to the edge.

"Good girl," he murmured against me, his voice dark and filled with satisfaction. "So perfect for me."

I could barely process his words, too consumed by the pleasure building inside me, the heat threatening to shatter me entirely. His name spilled from my lips again, broken and desperate, as he pushed me higher and higher, his tongue and fingers working in perfect, devastating harmony.

"Let go," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Give it to me."

And I did. The tension coiled within me snapped, pleasure crashing through me like a tidal wave. I cried out his name, my body trembling, my back arching as Rhys held me through every pulse, every wave, his mouth and hands relentless as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from me.

When I finally came down, gasping for breath, he pressed one last lingering kiss to my thigh before rising to his full height. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his lips curved in that familiar, wicked smile.

"Attagirl," he murmured, his voice rough and impossibly dark.

And then his hands were on me again, pulling me up against him, his towel dropping to the floor as he claimed my mouth with a ferocity that promised he wasn't nearly finished.

Az - Party

The River House was alive with celebration. Laughter echoed off the high ceilings, mingling with the cheerful notes of a string quartet in the corner. Snow swirled gently outside the windows, the night blanketed in frost and light.

I stood near the refreshments table, sipping a glass of wine, trying my best to focus on the festivities. My brother Cassian's booming laughter carried from somewhere in the room, no doubt entertaining a small crowd with one of his outlandish stories. Mor twirled a glass of mulled wine in hand, her golden gown catching the flicker of candlelight as she chatted with Elain and Feyre.

It was all so... warm. Inviting. But my attention kept drifting to the shadows pooling in the corner of the room. Or, more accurately, to him.

Azriel leaned against the far wall, nursing a glass of something amber-colored. He was dressed in all black, as usual, the tailored jacket and crisp shirt doing sinful things to his broad shoulders. His gaze, sharp and unreadable, was fixed firmly on me.

I knew that look.

I tried not to squirm under the weight of it, but my body betrayed me, heat prickling my skin. I sipped my wine and looked away, pretending to listen to Amren who was telling a story to others. My heart betrayed me too, thudding against my ribs.

A quiet voice, rough with amusement, broke through my thoughts. "You're terrible at pretending I'm not here."

I turned to find Azriel standing just behind me, his shadows coiling lazily around his shoulders. His dark eyes gleamed with a heat that made my breath hitch.

"Can you blame me?" I said softly, tilting my head in challenge. "You've been staring at me all night."

"Because you've been avoiding me all night," he replied, stepping closer.

I glanced around the room, acutely aware of how close he was. If Cassian—or anyone—saw us like this.

"We agreed to keep this quiet," I reminded him, though my voice lacked conviction.

Azriel smirked, his lips quirking in that infuriatingly attractive way that made my knees weak. "You're not making it easy."

"Not here," I ignore his words, my heart racing as his hand brushed against mine, hidden from view.

"Come with me then," he murmured, his voice low enough to send a shiver down my spine.

I barely had time to think before Azriel tightened his grip on my hand, guiding me out of the crowded room. We slipped through the hallways of the River House, the sound of the party fading with every step. My pulse quickened—not from fear of being caught, but from the sheer intensity of his presence.

He stopped in a secluded alcove, moonlight streaming through a frosted window. The silver light cast shadows across his sharp cheekbones, and when he turned to face me, I couldn't look away.

"Az," I whispered, but whatever I meant to say dissolved when he stepped closer, caging me against the wall.

His hand came up, bracing against the wall beside my head. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been to stay away from you tonight?" His voice was rough, and low, sending a bolt of heat straight through me.

"I could say the same," I admitted, my voice soft but steady.

His eyes darkened, his free hand brushing my cheek. "Say the word, and I'll stop."

I didn't hesitate. "Don't."

His lips crashed against mine, and the world fell away.

Azriel kissed like a man starved. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands sliding to my waist, pulling me against him. I tangled my fingers in his hair, gasping as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue found its way into my mouth, pressing me harder into the wall behind me as he explored every inch of me. He couldn't get enough, his shadows were tightening around my thighs, swirling greedily below my dress, up my waist.

He kicked my legs apart, and then his knee was pressed to my pulsing heat and there was nothing I could do then except moan his name and I was grateful for the music playing in the other room otherwise I surely would've been heard.

"As much as I love to hear you moaning my name, I need you to stay quiet," He breathed into my open mouth. "Can you do that for me, love?" He tilted his head slightly.

I nod shakily. "Mm," I whimper.

He flashed a wolfish grin. "That's my girl," He praises, then dips down to put his lips on my neck.

He lifted me effortlessly, positioning me to settle on his thigh, straddling it as his lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear.

"Someone's going to catch us," I managed to say, though I didn't sound the least bit convincing.

"Let them." His voice was a growl, his shadows curling around us like a protective cocoon. "Or maybe I'll just make you beg me to stop."

"Not a chance," I shot back, pulling him closer.

His hands tightened on my hips, and when he guided me to grind down, I couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped. Azriel swallowed the sound with a kiss, his lips, and hands leaving me utterly undone.

His hands gripped my hips with bruising strength, steadying me as I rocked against him. His thigh, solid and unyielding, pressed into the place where I ached most, sending sparks of pleasure curling through me. But it wasn't enough—not yet.

"That's it," Azriel murmured, his voice a low rasp against my ear. "Getting off on my thigh. Such a needy girl."

Heat flared across my cheeks, humiliation sinking deep, but it didn't stop me. I couldn't stop. I rolled my hips again, chasing the friction I so desperately craved.

Azriel's hands slid up, one brushing the bare skin of my thigh beneath my dress, the other reaching to tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. The gesture was almost tender, a stark contrast to his taunting words.

"Look at you," he continued, his tone darkly amused. "So desperate for it. You'd let anyone walk in right now and see, wouldn't you?"

"No," I gasped, shaking my head, though my body betrayed me, grinding harder against him.

"No?" he echoed, his lips brushing my jaw. "You sure about that, love? Because you haven't stopped." His teeth grazed my earlobe, a sharp nip that made me shudder.

I buried my face in his neck, trying to hide from the weight of his gaze, but he wouldn't allow it.

"Uh-uh," he growled, one hand gripping my chin and tilting my face back up to him. "Eyes on me. I want to see how much you need this."

A whimper escaped my lips, and he chuckled darkly, his thumb brushing over my flushed cheek. "That's my good girl," he praised, dragging the words out slowly, savoring each one.

The praise, the shame, the molten heat pooling low in my belly—it all coalesced into something heady and all-consuming. My nails dug into his shoulders, and I tried to grind faster, harder, desperate to push myself over the edge.

But Azriel had other plans. His grip tightened on my hips, forcing me to slow.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice a silken command. "You don't come until I say you can."

I let out a frustrated cry, my forehead dropping against his chest. "Azriel," I pleaded, my voice breathless, needy.

He hummed in mock sympathy, the sound vibrating through his chest. "What's the matter, love? You were doing so well." His thigh flexed beneath me, sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through my veins. "Don't tell me you're already close. From just this?"

My face burned, the humiliation sharp and thrilling. I refused to answer, but my silence only made him laugh softly, his shadows curling tighter around us.

"That's what I thought," he said, his tone laced with smug satisfaction. "So desperate. So pretty when you're like this."

"Please," I whispered, the word tumbling from my lips before I could stop it.

His eyes darkened, his smirk growing. "Please, what?"

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat.

"Say it," he urged, his voice dropping to a low, commanding growl. "Tell me what you want, love. Beg for it."

"Please, Az," I whispered again, my voice trembling. "I need—"

"You need what?" he interrupted, making me fumble for words further. His shadows brushed over my legs, teasing the sensitive skin there. "Say it."

"I need to come," I finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

He let out a low hum, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "That's better."

A soft whine escaped me as he guided my hips again but did not tell me I could allow that sweet release to flood me, slow and deliberate, dragging out every second. My thighs burned with effort, my body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"That's it," Azriel murmured, his lips ghosting over my ear. "Keep going. Show me how much you want it."

I rolled my hips again, the friction unbearable, every movement sending me spiraling closer to the edge. But he wouldn't let me fall, his hands controlling every moment, every sensation.

"Good girl," he said, his voice velvet-soft. "You're so close, aren't you?"

"Yes," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Azriel—"

"Not yet," he said again, his smirk widening. "Just a little longer, love. I had to wait all night, it's only fair."

Tears pricked my eyes from the effort of holding back, my body taut with need. "Azriel, please," I begged, my voice cracking.

He smiled at the sound, lips finding their place on my neck, sucking and licking where he knew was my most sensitive spot. I whimpered his name, needy and desperate, clawing down his back, bucking my hips against his flexing thigh pathetically, trying to keep the friction while simultaneously holding it at bay.

"Azriel," I cried. "Please, I'll beg? Is that what you want?" I mumbled, teary-eyed, staring up at him through my lashes.

A soft smile cracked his lips, and then he finally relented, his hand sliding beneath my dress to grip my bare thigh. "That's okay love," he murmured, his lips brushing mine. "Let go for me."

I shattered. The release hit me like a tidal wave, pleasure rippling through every nerve as my body tensed, and then melted against him. His name fell from my lips in a broken cry, muffled as he captured my mouth in a searing kiss.

When I finally stilled, trembling in his arms, he pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with something softer now, more tender.

I smiled weakly, my heart still racing. "You're insufferable."

His laugh was low and quiet, his shadows brushing over my skin in a gentle caress. "And yet, you love me."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue.

As footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway, Azriel set me back on my feet, smoothing out my dress with careful hands.

I wobbled slightly on my feet, catching my balance despite the ache in my shaky legs.

"You should go back first," he said, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Before someone notices you're missing."

"And what about you?"

He leaned in, pressing a loving kiss to my temple. "I'll go in a few minutes after you, don't want to raise awareness." He smiled crookedly. "And mask your smell," He advises.

I flush deeply, but do as he says, before leaving him in the hall. Looking back only once to see the dark promise in his eyes. Next time it wasn't only going to be his thigh.

Cassian - Unwrap

Cassian toyed with the tassel on my silk robe as I lounged on our bed, my head resting comfortably in his lap while I read. His calloused hand had been stroking lazy patterns along my side, his touch so soothing it made it hard to focus on the words in my book. But then, the silk tassel caught his attention, his fingers snagging the string and giving it a gentle tug.

"You know," he said, his voice low and casual—too casual, which I knew meant trouble. "I never did get a Solstice present from you."

I looked up at him, meeting his hazel gaze. Mischief danced in his eyes, that boyish grin tugging at his lips. Closing my book with a soft thud, I sat up, brushing my hair over my shoulder. "I am your present," I said with a playful smile.

His grin widened, his head tilting in that teasing, infuriating way that made me want to kiss him senseless—and smack him—at the same time. "C'mon, you can't be that lazy."

My lips twitched as I fought a grin, deciding then and there to wipe that smug expression off his face. Without a word, I swung one leg over his lap, settling myself atop him. His large hands instinctively landed on my hips, his thumbs brushing against the silk of my robe.

"No, Cass," I said, leaning closer until my lips ghosted over his. "I am your present."

I watched the shift in his expression as the words sank in, his teasing smirk giving way to something darker, hungrier. Slowly, I dragged my fingers up the column of his neck, tracing the edge of his jaw before guiding one of his hands to the tie of my robe. His breath hitched as he pulled at the silk, the knot unraveling easily under his practiced fingers.

The gray robe slipped open, revealing delicate lace that clung to my skin—a new set of lingerie he'd never seen before. It was a deep, rich red, the exact shade of his siphons, a color I knew drove the possessive side of him wild.

"Oh, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice thick as his eyes roamed over me. His pupils darkened, swallowing the hazel of his irises. I let the robe fall from my shoulders entirely, the fabric pooling around my waist as I leaned back slightly, giving him an unimpeded view.

His gaze devoured me, his hands tightening on my hips as though he needed to anchor himself. "You been hiding this from me all day?" he murmured, his voice strained with the effort it took to hold himself back.

"Maybe," I teased, my fingers weaving into his dark hair, tugging lightly as I leaned down to whisper against his ear, "Go on, Cass. Unwrap your gift."

Cassian didn't need to be told twice. His hands were already moving, sliding up my sides, the heat of his touch searing through the lace as he explored every inch of me. His lips found the sensitive spot at my neck, just beneath my ear, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin that made my breath hitch.

"Whatever you want," I sigh softly. "You can do whatever you want to me." I run a hand through his dark hair.

Cassian let out a deep, guttural growl at my words, his lips pausing against the tender skin of my neck. "Don't say things like that unless you mean them, sweetheart," he warned, his voice dark and hoarse, the edge of restraint barely clinging to it.

I arched against him, my fingers threading deeper into his hair. "I mean every word, Cass," I whispered, my voice breathy as I rolled my hips, feeling him hard and ready against me. "You know I do."

His control snapped. One large hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, holding me in place as his mouth captured mine in a kiss that was wild and consuming. His other hand skimmed down my body, calloused fingers tracing over the lace that clung to my skin. The roughness of his touch was a delicious contrast to the soft fabric, and I moaned into his mouth, my body already strung tight with anticipation.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His fingers slipped under the band of my panties, tearing them off with one swift motion and tossing the ruined lace to the floor. This is what he enjoyed, what I knew he enjoyed. To ravage and take what belonged to him.

I gasped as the cool air hit my heated skin, but Cassian didn't give me time to recover. His lips left mine, trailing down my throat, over the swell of my breasts, before pausing to take one taut peak into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, his teeth grazing just enough to send a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.

"Cassian," I breathed, my nails digging into his shoulders as his hand slid lower, his fingers dipping between my thighs. He groaned as he found me slick and ready for him, his touch slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of me.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered, his lips moving back up, kissing and nipping a path to my collarbone. As he did so he aligned the leaking head of his cock up with my wet entrance, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. The intensity of his gaze stole my breath, his hazel eyes dark with hunger.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he said, his voice rough and commanding.

"You," I managed, my voice trembling. "I want you, Cass. Please."

His mouth curved into a wicked smile against my skin. "Good girl."

He pushed into me slowly, stretching me in a way that made my head fall back, a moan escaping my lips. Cassian groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he sank into me fully, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.

"You feel so fucking good," he rasped, his breath coming in ragged pants as he began to move, his hips rolling in a rhythm that had me seeing stars all over again.

The room was filled with the sounds of our pleasure—moans, gasps, the slap of skin against skin. Cassian's name fell from my lips like a prayer, his own curses and praises spilling into the air as he drove us both closer to the edge.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough as his hand gripped my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.

My eyes locked with his, and the intensity of his expression—possessive, reverent, utterly consumed. "Whatever I want, right?"

I nod shakily, nails digging into his skin.

He smiles, the sight sinful, eyes blown with just. "Good, I'm g'na come inside you," He purred just below my ear. "You stopped takin' that birth tonic a few weeks ago, yeah?" He asks and I nod again, heat blooming across my face.

"Sweet girl," He coos. "I'm g'na stuff you full, get you pregnant," He rasped huskily. My cunt pulsed with the promise, dripping on his cock as a natural lubricant. "You like that, don't you? Squeezin' me so tight," He muttered, voice hitching as I clenched around him eagerly.

"Yes, yes, please. Fill me up."

Cassian's sinful smile only deepened, his breath hot against my ear as he thrust into me with a new intensity. The bed creaked beneath us, his hips snapping forward in a way that had me crying out his name.

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. His lips brushed over the shell of my ear, his words punctuated by the rhythmic slap of his body against mine. "Gonna fill you so full, sweetheart. Make you mine in every way."

I could feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, the way my body responded to his every word, his every touch. "Cass," I gasped, my nails raking down his broad back as he pinned me beneath him, a knot already forming. "Please."

"Please what?" he murmured, his forehead dropping to rest against mine as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"Please," My voice failed me, words coming out in a pitiful whimper. "More."

"Yeah? Begging for more?" He smiled, leaning down and capturing my needy noises with his mouth, his tongue already finding its way inside, exploring every inch of me.

He pulled away after a moment, sensing I needed to breathe. "You're taking me so well, squeezing me so tight. You were made for me, weren't you?"

"Yes," I cried, the overwhelming pleasure forcing my back to arch off the mattress. "Only for you, Cassian."

His groan was pure sin, his pace relentless as his hand slid down my body, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves between my thighs. The added stimulation sent me over the edge, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave. My vision blurred as I clenched around him, my cries filling the room as my body trembled beneath his.

"That's my girl," Cassian growled, his voice thick with pride and possession. He didn't stop, his hips driving into me with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. "You're so perfect like this. Wrecked for me."

I felt him twitch inside me, the telltale sign that he was close. His thrusts became erratic, his breathing ragged as he buried himself deep, groaning my name like a prayer.

"Gonna give you all of it," he rasped, his voice strained as his release hit him, hot and thick, filling me completely. "Gonna make sure it takes." He grunted, fucking it deep into me, his tip brushing against my cervix.

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through me, the idea of him claiming me in such an intimate way only adding to the bliss coursing through my body. Cassian made no move of pulling out, seeming content to keep his seed deep inside of me.

"You're mine," he murmured, his lips brushing over my temple as he held me close. "Always."

I smiled, my fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Always," I echoed, content to let the world fall away as I stayed wrapped in his arms, knowing the night was far from over.

Lucien - Stockings

Lucien had stripped me down to my socks. Literally. The delicate thigh-high stockings I wore remained on as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer. His clothed cock was hard, the heat of him brushing against my soaked, bare folds in a tormenting tease. I whined pitifully, bucking my hips in desperation for more. For him.

"Patience, fawn," he chided, a wicked grin tugging at his lips as his warm, calloused hands pinned my hips down to the bed. His amber eye glinted in the candlelight, a smoldering ember against his freckled skin. The other, his metal eye, whirred faintly, locking onto every twitch of my body, every subtle plea I made for him.

"Lucien," I whimpered, voice breathless, needy. My head fell back into the plush pillows as his mouth began its sinful descent, trailing slow, heated kisses down the curve of my neck. His lips were deliberate, slow, savoring every inch of skin as though he had all the time in the world to ruin me.

"You're gorgeous like this," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick and dripping with lust. "All laid out for me, helpless, begging." One of his hands slipped from my hip to glide along the underside of my thigh, his thumb brushing over the lace bow at the top of my stocking. His touch was reverent as if worshiping me were second nature.

When he'd first seen me in these stockings, I barely managed to speak before he had me bare beneath him, as if the mere sight of me was enough to drive him feral. Now, as his mouth moved lower, his teeth grazed the swell of my breast. His tongue flicked over a hardened nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.

"Lucien," I cried, arching into him as he sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth. His tongue swirled in tight, maddening circles, leaving me trembling beneath him. He released me with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to my skin as he continued his journey downward.

He gathered my thighs like I was melting in his hands, draping them over his broad, muscular shoulders. His head dipped, fiery hair spilling across my skin as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the delicate flesh of my inner thighs. I felt his teeth tugging at the top of one stocking, pulling it down in slow, deliberate movements until it was folded in the crease of my knee.

"You drive me mad," he growled, his voice rough, raw with hunger. "Your body, your taste." He kissed closer, dangerously close to where I wanted him most. I was quivering beneath him, my body a live wire, every nerve ending alight as he teased me mercilessly.

And then he bit.

Sharp canines sank into the tender flesh of my inner thigh. Pain and pleasure collided, white-hot and electric, and I screamed, my back arching off the bed. My hands shot to his hair, tangling in the silken strands, pulling as I cried out his name. "Lucien." The sound was a broken plea, my brows creasing as I felt warm liquid trickle down my thigh.

He groaned at the taste, his tongue swiping over the wound to catch every drop. The flat of his tongue soothed the sting, leaving me trembling in his hold. Deep enough to scar, a mark of him burned into my flesh. A claim. The thought alone had me clenching around nothing, my eyes fluttering shut as heat coiled low in my belly.

"You're mine," he rumbled, his lips brushing the fresh mark. "No one will ever touch you like this, and if they do..." He smirked. "They'll see this mark, mine."

And then his mouth descended to where I needed him most.

The first drag of his tongue along my slick heat was devastating. I cried out, my fingers tightening in his hair as he licked into me, slow and deliberate, savoring every taste. His nose nudged against my sensitive clit, drawing another desperate moan from my lips.

"Lucien," I whimpered, my thighs trembling on his shoulders. He growled against me, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure rippling through my body.

"You're so sweet, fawn," he murmured, his voice muffled by the slick heat of me. "Every part of you, perfect."

He wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer as his tongue worked me over with an intensity that left me breathless. Every stroke, every swirl, every scrape of his teeth against my swollen clit unraveled me further. He feasted on me like a man starved, drinking in every sound I made, every shiver of my body beneath him.

Lucien's name spilled from my lips like a prayer, over and over, each syllable broken by gasps and whimpers. My body was no longer my own; it was his, entirely, completely. He had me unraveling, falling apart with every skilled flick of his tongue and every deep, guttural growl rumbling through him as he consumed me.

"Such a pretty girl, being so loud for me," He purrs against my heat.

I shuddered at his words, my fingers clawing at the sheets, at his hair, at anything that could anchor me as he drew me higher and higher. His teeth grazed my clit, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain that had me crying out, my hips bucking against his face. He laughed softly, the sound smug and intoxicating.

"You're close, aren't you?" he teased, the heat of his breath fanning against my slick core. "I can feel you trembling for me, fawn. Feel how badly your body wants to give in."

"Yes," I gasped, barely able to form the word. "Lucien, please."

"Please, what?" His tone was all wicked amusement as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves, so light it was almost maddening. "Use your words."

I whimpered, my thighs quivering as he kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud. "Please make me come," I begged, my voice desperate, raw. "Lucien, please—"

He didn't make me wait. With one last growl, he sucked hard, his tongue relentless as he pushed me over the edge. My climax hit me like a storm, violent and all-consuming, every nerve in my body alight with fire. I cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me shaking and boneless beneath him.

Lucien didn't stop, didn't let up as he worked me through every pulse, every aftershock. Only when I was a trembling mess did he finally pull away, his lips glistening with my release, his amber eye blazing with pride and hunger. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up my body.

"You're beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice low, reverent, as he cupped my flushed cheek. "Ruined for anyone else."

I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt the heavy press of his cock against my entrance. My eyes fluttered open, meeting his as he leaned down to kiss me, slow and deep, letting me taste myself on his lips.

"Lucien," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a plea, half a surrender.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his metal eye whirring softly as he studied my face. "Say it, fawn," he said, his voice a rough rasp. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," I breathed, the truth of it settling deep in my chest. "Only yours."

His lips curved into a feral grin, satisfaction and possession flickering across his features. "Good girl."

And then he pushed into me, slow and unyielding, stretching me inch by inch until I was utterly filled, utterly his.

Eris - Cold

"You're so warm," I sigh contentedly, nuzzling into my mate's neck. The blizzard that swept through Autumn had knocked out the house's heating system days ago, leaving the usually cozy manor cloaked in an unfamiliar chill.

I wasn't used to the cold, not while hailing from the Summer Court, where warmth was as constant as the tide. Last night, I'd curled up by the hearth, shivering until Eris found me, gently scolding me for not coming to bed. Part of me suspected he could've fixed the heating system with a flick of his wrist, yet he hadn't. He wanted me close, pressed against him, and I couldn't deny him.

Now, wrapped in his arms, my thin nightgown felt like a poor barrier against the fire that pulsed through his veins. His shirtless torso radiated the kind of heat I craved, but even that wasn't enough. Not for the bone-deep chill that still lingered. Not for the ache I felt blooming low in my stomach. I needed that warmth to be a part of me, inside of me.

I burrowed closer, letting out a soft sigh. "Eris," I breathed, tightening my hold around his chest.

He hummed, half awake, his chin resting atop my head. His voice was rough with sleep when he murmured, "Hmm?"

"I'm still cold," I huffed, a pout tugging at my lips.

He shifted slightly, his fingers trailing lazy patterns down my back. "Well, we can't really get much closer," he mumbled.

A flicker of frustration bubbled in my chest. "Can you..." I hesitated, unsure how to ask for what I wanted. My cheeks burned as I clung to him, the words caught in my throat.

"If you want me to fuck you, just say so, my love," he said bluntly, his tone a soft, teasing drawl that sent heat rushing to my face.

I tilted my head up to meet his gaze, my breath hitching as his amber eyes glinted with unspoken promises. Lifting slightly, I pressed my lips to his, the kiss tender yet brimming with unspoken need. Warmth bloomed in my cheeks as his hands moved to my waist, guiding me onto his lap.

I straddled him, my knees bracketing his hips as he pulled me closer, his heat seeping into my skin. His lips left mine to trail desperate, frantic kisses down my jaw, and I let out a soft whimper at the sensation.

"I want you to fuck me," I confessed, my voice trembling with need.

His groan was low and guttural, vibrating through his chest. "That wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?"

Eris's hands slid up my thighs, gathering the fabric of my nightgown until it bunched around my hips. His touch was fire itself, scorching in its intensity as he ran his fingers over my bare skin. I shivered, not from the cold, but from the delicious contrast of heat and chill that had my body alight.

"You're freezing," he murmured, his brows furrowing as his hands moved to grip my hips. "Let's warm you up, yeah?"

Before I could answer, his lips captured mine again, more demanding this time. His tongue swept into my mouth, coaxing soft moans from me as he rolled his hips against mine. The friction sent sparks of pleasure coursing through me, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.

"Eris," I gasped, breaking the kiss to look at him. "Please."

His lips curved into a wicked smile. "Patience, my love," he purred, his hands sliding to cup my ass as he pulled me flush against him. "I'm going to warm every inch of you."

I let out a breathless laugh. "You're taking too long."

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Is that so?"

Before I could respond, one of his hands dipped between us, his fingers brushing over my soaked core. I let out a strangled gasp, my head falling back as he teased me through the thin fabric of my panties.

"Already so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with pride and desire. "So desperate."

I bit my lip, grinding against his hand in search of more friction. "Eris," I whined, my voice breaking as his fingers pushed the fabric aside. "Need more."

He pulled his fingers from me, and I let out a noise of protest, but it quickly turned into a gasp as he flipped us effortlessly. I was on my back now, with him looming over me, his firey hair tousled and his eyes blazing with heat.

"You'll have me, love," he promised, his voice thick with need. "Every inch of me."

Eris shifted, freeing himself from the confines of his pants. My eyes dropped to him, my breath catching at the sight of his length, hard and ready for me. He smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction, before leaning down to capture my lips again.

His body pressed against mine, his heat wrapping around me like a cocoon. As he positioned himself at my entrance, I braced myself, my body already trembling with anticipation.

"Such a needy girl," He tuts beside my ear, kissing my jaw. "You need this so bad, huh?" he whispered, his voice a molten caress.

"Yes, yes Eris," I breathe, and his smile against my skin makes my stomach churn.

And without another word, he thrust into me, filling me completely until I was engulfed in the flames of our desire.

Eris groaned low in his throat as he sank fully into me, his warmth spreading through every inch of my body. My breath hitched, my hands clutching at his shoulders as he stilled for a moment, letting me adjust to the fullness. His lips brushed against my jawline, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

"You take me so well," he murmured, his voice rough, a low rumble of molten heat that seemed to pool low in my stomach. "So perfect for me."

I moaned softly, rolling my hips to encourage him to move. He didn't make me wait long. His first thrust was slow and deliberate, dragging against every sensitive part of me, and I cried out, arching beneath him.

"That's it, my love," he groaned, his hand slipping beneath my thigh to hitch it higher around his waist. His fiery magic flared where his skin met mine, a warm pulse that sent shivers racing through me despite the heat.

But Eris wasn't satisfied with just that. A faint glow sparked at his fingertips, and the fire coiled around my leg, pinning it higher against his side. The sensation was incredible—hot but never painful, as if his flame had become an extension of him. The warmth radiated through me, loosening every muscle, chasing away the last vestiges of the chill that had settled in my bones.

"Can you feel it?" he rasped, his thrusts deep and unrelenting now, filling me over and over with a pace that left me gasping. "You feel me fucking the heat back into you, baby?"

"Yes," I whimpered, my hands clawing at his back, desperate to anchor myself as the pleasure built, as his fire seemed to seep deeper, consuming me whole.

The glow of his magic reflected in his amber eyes, which burned with a feral intensity. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin as his lips claimed mine again. The kiss was searing, just like the rest of him, leaving me breathless.

"You're mine," he growled against my lips, his voice deep and possessive. "All mine."

"I'm yours," I gasped, my voice trembling with the force of my desire. "All yours, Eris."

The way his body tensed told me he was close, and I was right there with him, the pleasure coiling tighter with each thrust, each pulse of heat that spread from his magic.

"Come for me, love," he demanded, his hand slipping between us to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. His touch sent me hurtling over the edge, and I cried out his name as the release shattered through me. My body tightened around him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.

His rhythm faltered as he followed, his fire flaring bright as he spilled inside me. The heat was intoxicating, a rush that spread through my entire body, filling me with a warmth so profound it felt like I might melt. He buried his face in my neck, his breaths heavy and uneven as he rode out his climax.

When he finally stilled, the only sound in the room was the mingling of our ragged breaths. He pressed a lingering kiss to my collarbone, his hands stroking soothing patterns over my sides.

"Warm enough now?" he murmured, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I let out a breathless laugh, still basking in the afterglow. "More than enough."

Eris chuckled, the sound low and satisfied, as he pulled from me—and I immediately missed the warmth, watching as he propped himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His amber eyes still glowed faintly with the remnants of his magic.

"Autumn males really do have fire in their veins," I murmured, my voice soft, I reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, swiping my thumb over the teasing smirk forming on his lips.

"That we do, my love," he said, leaning down to kiss me again. "And it's all yours."

SFW version here -> link

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eufezco · 15 hours ago

Text

A FRESH START 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

synopsis — after leaving wakanda, bucky starts to rediscover who he is while living with you, slowly bulding a new life. his dispair deepens and you offer him a fresh start with a simple act: cutting his hair.

angst. fluff

—you have to stop thinking that every time something good is happening to you it's because something worse is on the way. that´s not a way to live, buck —. you said softly, your voice steady but with a hint of concern.

bucky shook his head, running a hand over his face as a sign of desperation. if only he could remember what life felt like before hydra took him, before all those wasted years. after so long he was still trying to figure it out, still trying to find a version of himself that didn’t feel like a stranger. trying to get used to his new life in the city, far from the peace he had known in wakanda. all these sudden changes only made him more confused and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to adjust, it was that he didn’t know how.

it had been a almost a year since bucky had moved in with you, since you had defeated thanos and steve had left. when the dora milaje declared him ready to live a normal life, bucky stood there, unsure of what that even meant. he had no place to go. louisiana crossed his mind for a moment, sam had always extended an open invitation but the thought of intruding on sam’s family life stopped him, and steve was gone, something he chose not to think much about, so for the first time in over a century, bucky was truly on his own.

except he wasn’t. you were there.

when you found out he needed a place, you didn’t think about it twice. he resisted at first. ayo told him you were the right person to star building his new life. you trust her, you trust her more than you admit. that is where you begin. trust. she is the right person to help you build this new life, james.

and he couldn't remember what you two had shared before hydra took him, before everything fell apart but there was a pull. by the things steve told him, you three were best friends once, inseparable. he spoke of nights you spent laughing, of how he’d head home early, leaving you and bucky behind, knowing that bucky would arrive later, with a big smile on his lips. steve chuckled when he mentioned your lipstick, smeared on bucky’s mouth when he finally made it back. you never wiped it off, you wore it like a badge of honor.

bucky tried to imagine it, those moments of joy but the memories never came. but he could still feel it. he felt it that day in wakanda, when you arrived with steve and natasha to fight thanos. you smiled at him, just a brief moment in the chaos, but it stayed with him. there was something so familiar about that smile, something warm and he felt it too every time you visited him or sent him what had once been his favorite sweets, little reminders of a life he no longer remembered but somehow still carried with him.

so, he showed up at your door a few days later, a bag hung over his shoulder and a sad look in his eyes. he didn't try to argue this time. —you sure about this?

you didn’t hesitate. —absolutely.

living with bucky was easy. he was quiet, he didn't need much space. after months, he started making it his place too, little by little. he left his shoes by the door beside yours, the book he picked up from one of your shelves appeared on the coffee table, his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair.

—it's not that easy —. he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

you watched him. —i know it’s not, —you said softly, stepping closer to him. —but you don’t have to do it all at once. no one expects that from you.

he shook his head again. —feels like they do, —he said, his blue eyes looking directly into yours. you could see the sadness and the guilt of the moments he couldn’t take back. —feels like every time i mess up, it’s just proof that i don’t belong here. as if this life was not made for me —his voice was low, barely more than a murmur. —what if the only thing i'm good at is killing?

you took a deep breath. it was hard to hear him say that, to see the man you’d known before hydra, who was your best friend and the love of your life, now drowning in self-doubt and guilt. —you’re more than what they made you.

—am i? because that’s all i’ve ever done. all i know how to do.

—but it’s not who you are, it’s what they forced you to be. the fact that you’re even asking this? that you’re fighting to be someone better? that’s proof enough that that wasn't you at all.

he closed his eyes tightly and ran his hands through the long strands of his hair. for a moment, you just stood there, watching him. you wanted to pull him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him, but you hesitated, ayo told you to do so, to let him space to feel this, to fight against it, even if it hurt.

—i can still feel him inside my head, i can hear his thoughts. he's not gone.

bucky’s fingers suddenly grabbed the roots of his hair with a little more force. his breathing grew faster, his hands shook and his eyes squeezed shut. you couldn't see how deep his pain was and not do anything to stop him from hurting himself.

you stepped closer. —bucky, hey… —your hands sneaked into his hair, softly pulling his grip from his scalp. his hands were trembling, and for a moment, there was resistance in him like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of the only thing he could hold onto. but your touch was soft, familiar and something shifted, almost imperceptible, but you could feel the tension in him loosen.

—the bucky i knew isn’t gone. he’s still in there. i see him every time you fight for something good, every time you try to make amends, every time you care about the people around you, about me.

his shoulders fell, and his head hung low, he didn’t want you to see him like this, weak and broken. but you had seen him in his darkest moments as the winter soldier and you had experienced thanos taking him away from you with the blip. the years without him had been a painful, you thought you lost him forever. yet there he was, standing before you, alive, and you weren’t about to let him go again.

your hands gently moved to push the back of his head, guiding him to rest his forehead on your shoulder. he was still a bit unsure about how to handle this type of physical contact, used to years of torture, where touch always meant pain, control, or something to fear. now you held him close to your body, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

—why don’t i cut your hair?

—cut my hair?

—yeah, it´ll help you to see yourself in a different way. a fresh start.

bucky pulled back a little, he wasn’t sure if you were joking. —you think cutting my hair will fix everything?

you smiled softly, you wished it could be that easy. —no, —you admitted. —but ayo told your new life will be built on small things.

bucky sighed.

the idea of letting go parts of himself that tied him to the winter soldier felt like a whole world. first, it was his metal arm, the one with the red star, when tony ripped it off of him, bucky felt relieved, like tony was cutting one of the heads of the hydra to end the monster. in wakanda, he learned to live using only his flesh-and-blood arm until they gave him a new one which he only intended to use for good.

and now you were asking to cut his hair.

—ayo did say that, didn’t she? —he murmured, almost to himself.

—she’s a smart woman and besides, it’s just a haircut. if you hate it, it’ll grow back.

a small smile appeared in his lips. —if it ends up bad, i’m blaming you.

you took a chair from the kitchen to the bathroom and he sat down in front of the mirror. bucky stared at his reflection as he pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed. he didn't like mirrors, he avoided them as much as he could. he didn't like the person staring back at him, he didn't know who that man was and now sitting on that chair there was no escape.

there was a difference this time. next to one of the things he most hated to look at—his reflection—was one of the things he liked the most to look at—you.

his blue eyes moved from his reflection to yours. you stood behind him and ran your hands gently through his hair. he felt that familiar tickle in his stomach, the one he first felt almost a century ago and that, even after all the years, it hadn't gone away.

he felt it every morning when you entered the kitchen, hair a mess from sleep, mumbling a soft “good morning” to him. he felt it when he came home in the evenings and dinner was ready and you were sitting at the table, waiting for him. he felt it most when you would fell asleep on the couch and he had to carry you to your bed, careful not to wake you. and you'd ask him in your sleep to stay, and he'd freeze, he wanted to say yes, he wanted to stay. but he couldn’t risk it, his nightmares were still too real. so bucky would gently place you in your bed, making sure you were well tucked in, and whisper, i’ll be in my room, if you need anything.

—are you ready? —you asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. you already had the scissors in your hand and bucky shifted in the chair at the sight of them. —it'll be okay, buck.

—feels like more than just a haircut.

you nodded, understanding. —well, that's what we wanted, isn't it?

bucky swallowed and nodded.

—why don't you close your eyes? i'll let you know when i'm done.

with a deep breath, he did as you said. your lips curved into a small smile even though he could no longer see you. you were aware of all the progress he had made. you knew he trusted you with his heart because on no other occasion he would willingly keep his eyes closed with someone standing behind him, scissors in hand and when your hands rested on his shoulders, he hadn’t flinched at the contact.

—okay, i'll start.

with his eyes closed it was much easier to feel the delicacy with which you treated him. the way your fingers combed through his scalp and then the sound of the scissors, followed by the sensation of the strands falling and taking with them the weight he had carried for so long. and you talked, about anything that crossed your mid so he did not feel that he was in danger or he had to be alert at any time.

—maybe we could get a cat, —you said. —i think it’d be nice. do you think you’d be a good cat parent?

—maybe —. he said after a pause. —i definitely prefer a cat to a dog.

you switched to the clippers, you left the hair at the top of his head a little longer, while the rest of it was cut shorter. a very chic haircut for someone born in 1917. you carefully checked that his hair was even and then you styled it with your fingers.

—okay, i'm done, you can open your eyes.

bucky hesitated for a moment, then opened his eyes. your breath caught in surprise as you watched him take in the sight of himself. it was like having the bucky you once knew staring right at you through the mirror. his features were the same, just a bit more more defined and mature.

he felt the same relief as when tony ripped off the metal arm that hydra embedded in his body, like a part of him that had once been used against him, now freed. he turned his head slowly to both sides to get a better look and to be honest, he liked his new look. physically, he could see the resemblance to the man in the photos you had shown him, the young soldier who smiled to you, in love.

—how do you feel? i think it suits you —. you asked gently.

bucky nodded. —i like it —. he caught your gaze in the mirror. the eye contact was so intense that you had to look away. you cleared your throat, hoping to ease the tension, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

—alright, come on, —you tapped his shoulder for him to stand up. — i'm going to sweep your hair off the floor.

bucky got up from the chair and turned his head to look at you, not through the mirror this time, but directly, and the sudden closeness made your breath hitch. —thank you for doing this.

—you don't need to thank me, buck. i'm glad it turned out well, it was my first time doing it.

—you sure about that? —he asked—it doesn’t feel like it was your first time.

you laughed, still avoiding his gaze. —guess we got lucky, then.

there was a silence; you were both too close, but not close enough yet. bucky’s eyes moved to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your heart race. you could both feel the tension, an invisible string pulling you toward each other, daring one of you to close the gap. you didn’t want to take the first step, you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t ready for, the last thing you wanted was to break the fragile trust he’d built with you.

you opened your mouth to say something but he talked first.

—can i kiss you? —his voice was low, almost shy.

you were surprised because you didn't expected him to ask so directly, but consent was so important to him. he spent too many years under someone else’s control, forced into actions that weren’t his own, and now he was determined never to cross those lines. it wasn’t just about asking to kiss you, it was about making sure that you were comfortable, that you wanted this just as much as he did.

—yeah, —you whispered —you can.

bucky stepped closer, his flesh-and-blood hand reaching to cup your cheek, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you leaned into him instead, your lips finally meeting his.

he felt strange. he had wanted to kiss you for what felt like forever, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do next. his mind raced, trying to remember how this was supposed to go. he forgot about kissing, forgot about the rhythm of it, the give and take. his hand slipped from your cheek to fall awkwardly at his side as he pulled away from your lips just enough just to say:

—i don't... i don't remember how to do this.

—it's okay. you're doing just fine. there’s no right or wrong way. just… follow me.

this time, when your lips met, you moved slowly, guiding him. his tension disappeared as he mirrored your movements, his right hand returned to your cheek, the other, his metal one, moved to hold your hips. it wasn’t perfect, the movements of his lips were still hesitant, but there was something honest about the way he kissed you.

as he kissed you, bucky became more aware of his body and where his hands were and realized that his metal hand was resting lightly on your waist. he pulled the hand away quickly. —i'm sorry, i didn't mean to...

you shook your head, one of your hands flew to the back of his neck to connect your lips while your other one grabbed his vibranium arm and guided his hand to where it was before. as the kiss deepened, you felt him relax, stop worrying about whether he was doing it right or wrong, about the touch of his cold hand on your skin, and he just kissed you.

you hummed before parting ways. his cheeks were flushed, his lips were a bit swollen and glossy, his breathing a little uneven and you couldn't help a little laugh from escaping your lips.

—okay, now you're just laughing at me.

—you're so cute, buck.

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