#ems comfort fics

[writing-for-marvel]

What’s funny is my friends and I say ‘hypothetically speaking’ all the time 😂😂 I could so see this being us!! And the way he snuck up behind her 🥰🥰 the absolute cutest!!

My favourite line:

"Hypothetically speaking," a deep, confident voice starts behind you, making you drop your head into your hands, "if I do my best to live up to your expectations, would you go out with me tonight?"

Hypothetically speaking

Summary: Hypothetically speaking, Bucky Barnes is the perfect man. You have a list that proves it. What happens when someone overhears you telling Natasha about it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Words: A drabble at 800 words

"All I'm saying is, hypothetically, Bucky is the perfect boyfriend," you whisper to Natasha over the kitchen table. 

"And why do you think that?"  Her green eyes stare past you, making you nervous for a second before her gaze meets yours. "Hypothetically speaking, of course." Natasha knew how you felt about Bucky but humoured you nonetheless.

You don't hear anything so you continue, "Well, I mean, he's the full package. Just look at what he's like," you chuckle. You lift your thumb as you start counting the points. "He's handsome with his dark hair and his eyes to die for." Your index finger goes up, "He's quiet but authoritative, like the time he saw a guy bothering me at the bar. He didn't hesitate before threatening him with bodily harm if he didn't stop bothering not just me - but all the ladies in the bar." Your middle finger rises, "He's got muscles galore like we've seen when he and Steve burn off extra energy in the gym and take their shirts off." Your ring finger raises, "And he's kind - too kind sometimes. Remember I told you about that time we were stuck in the rain in the middle of nowhere on a mission? He gave me his jacket and stood freezing in the pouring rain for more than an hour while we waited for our pickup." Finally, your pinkie raises, "Then there's the vibranium arm," you say as you drop your hand, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Natasha smirks at the look that crosses your face when you talk about Bucky's prosthetic arm. "What about his arm? Most people would think it's a bad thing."

"Huh, as if! If they think that, then they're stupid. His arm is amazing. The black and gold design makes him look like a masterpiece painting. If I were an artist, I could spend hours watching him, getting every shadow and groove perfectly immortalized on the canvas." You giggle softly before continuing, "He's super strong - even stronger than Steve is, with that arm. He has amazing coordination and precision, and the temperature difference between his human hand and his vibranium hand is awesome. On a hot day, you can hold his left hand without sweating like crazy, and on a cold day, his right hand will be nice and toasty. But the biggest thing?" You take a deep breath, "His arm is vibranium, so I'm 100% sure his arm won't fall asleep like a normal man's when spooning with him in bed. A woman can lie on that arm for hours - I'm sure Bucky won't move an inch. That's the type of man he is..." A dreamy look passes over your face as you imagine yourself in that situation.

A perfect eyebrow raises in question, "Honey, why don't you just tell him you like him?" 

"What? No, I don't! I was speaking hypothetically!" You aren't like Natasha, you can't just walk up to Bucky and confidently tell him you like him. Just thinking about it makes you anxious.

Natasha's smile is huge as a shadow hovers over you, making you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

Please, please don't let someone be behind me.

"Hypothetically speaking," a deep, confident voice starts behind you, making you drop your head into your hands, "if I do my best to live up to your expectations, would you go out with me tonight?"

You slowly raise your head, seeing Natasha leave the kitchen quietly and Bucky take her spot opposite you.

Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?

You can't meet his eyes, your cheeks burning with humiliation as your eyes focus on your wiggling hands. "Uh, Bucky, how much did you hear?" 

This time, Bucky's voice is softer, unsure. "Pretty much everything. I know I shouldn't have listened; I couldn't help myself. Not when I heard your hypothetical. How about it, doll? Do you want to go out with me on a date?"

"Bucky, you don't have to do that just because I embarrassed myself. You don't want to go out with me."

You slowly meet his blue eyes, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. "Of course, I want to, doll. I honestly just never thought you would want to go out with me. You're so sweet and beautiful. I just never thought someone like you would be interested in me. Not with all my baggage." His gaze becomes nervous at your hesitation. "If you give me a chance, I promise I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

Can he be any sweeter? "You could never disappoint me, Bucky. You're amazing." 

His face lights up at your honest reply. "So, how about it, doll? Let me take you out on a date. If you play your cards right, I'll let you test your theory on my arm tonight. I promise I won't move an inch if I get to hold you all night long. I won't even cop a feel tonight; I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise." 

You can't stop from giggling, feeling mischievous. You weren't making stupid promises like that, something he might figure out soon if all goes well. "It's a deal, Sarge," you reply as you grasp his hands, shivering from the hot and cold sensation. 

This is going to be fun. 

Tag List:

@cjand10

@buggy14

@crazyunsexycool

@tripleoyaa

@mandijo17

@fluffysucker

@moviegurl2002

@shelbygeek

[24-05txt]

In regards to the whole soul mate thing, Soap's been through all the phases.

He'd started curious, then confused, then mournful, then resentful. For now he's settled somewhere in the vicinity of apathy—maybe spite.

He doesn't have a soul-mark. Never has, never will, and that's... fine. He's far from the only one lacking that kind of connection, and that's enough for him to feel understood. Not alone. He's got plenty of good friends besides—with and without soulmates of their own—and he's happy that way. Really, he is; it took him a fair amount of work to get to a place where he could say that and it not be wishful thinking. He's got friends, family, dalliances, motion and company and light in his life despite the lack of a mark that tells him where his place is.

And then he meets Ghost.

The Lieutenant is huge in the sense that his presence alone takes up what space his height and muscle can't. He's quiet, too, at least before Soap makes the effort to worm his way under all that tacgear. (The man is intriguing, what can he say? Who else walks around with a honest-to-fuck skull mask day in and out.)

Ghost seems to tolerate him at first, then inexplicably starts to prickle and grouch whenever Soap comes within six feet of him. He could make up a few reasons for why that is, but instead contents himself with pretending he doesn't notice—pushing the implied boundary until Ghost mans up and tells him off.

He never does, though. And it's not long at all until Soap's found that the boundary has given way and Ghost is—well he's actually pretty pleasant to be around. He's funny, and patient, and gives way too much of a shit to be in a career that pretty much ensures the death of everyone he works with. (He likes to pretend he doesn't, but there's no other reason he would have been waiting up in that church for Soap—in fact he shouldn't have still been there at all, since he'd already scoped an escape route. The bastard's soft, is what he's saying.)

And that's when things start to backslide just a little.

They're sitting in the mess—only three of them, the Captain unable to grace them with his presence—and Gaz is talking about his sister's husband's new boyfriend being the result of a late-discovery soulmatch.

"Could you imagine," he says, pausing to chew his mouthful before he continues. "Going thirty years knowing there's someone out there for you, and not seeing them until after you're already married?"

"Could be platonic," Soap pointed out, not bothering with the same courtesy of chewing his food. Ghost kicks him under the table for it, but he honestly can't be asked to care for only three words worth.

"Could be, but still—could you imagine?"

"Nope." Soap pops the 'P' and grins. Ghost doesn't kick him this time since he hasn't taken another bite yet. "I'm a wee bit hopeless in that department."

"Ah, brother." Gaz reaches out and they clasp hands for a moment, then he nudges his shoulder. "You and me both. Never much got the fuss about it, but that does seem like some sort of cosmic irony yeah?"

"Issat irony?" Soap asks. "Don't think that's right."

Obviously, that incites a short argument that ends when Gaz pulls out his phone to look up the actual dictionary definition of 'irony', and Soap grasps to change the topic to literally anything else to avoid Gaz gloating on the off chance that he's right.

"Lt, what about you?"

Ghost blinks at him as if he hasn't been staring at the both of them through the whole conversation.

"I know what irony is, Johnny."

"No—" he can't help the scowl, and talks over Gaz's sudden jeering as he shoves his phone under his nose. Soap lifts his chin to avoid it. "You got a soul mark?"

"Read it and weep, Soap!" Gaz cheers, only slightly subdued in respect for every else in the room.

"I do." Ghost says at the same time, dipping his head in a tiny little nod, and Soap's world ends just a little bit, right there in the mess hall. Curls up, withers, and dies without so much as a squeal.

He's not able to ask if Ghost knows who it is, or if he's met them, or if they're still alive, or if it's romantic or platonic; he's not sure if it even matters, because Johhny knows right then that he will never be as close to Ghost as they are.

And it hurts.

It hurts in a way he wasn't entirely expecting.

He must hold it together well enough through the rest of dinner, and then through walking with Gaz back to their rooms, but once he's got the door locked behind him he feels the smile fall off his face. He sits down on the edge of his bed.

Ghost has a soulmate.

Ghost has a soulmate and Soap is pissed about it. Because that soulmate isn't him—it can't be, since he doesn't have a mark of his own.

It's just—it's unfair. They work so well together, on the field and off. He knows for a fact no one else can read Ghost as well as he can, no one else talks to him like he does, he doesn't hang around anyone else like he seems to hang around Soap. If anyone should be Ghost's soulmate, it should be him.

But he's not. Which means there's someone else out there that can watch his six better, understand him more, have more satisfying conversations—and it seems fucking impossible, because he doesn't even know how it could get better given the time they've known eachother... and yet.

And yet Ghost has a mark, and Soap doesn't.

It takes him days to get over it—at least enough to act himself when he's in company. Ghost tries to get him to talk about it three separate times before he can manage to get his shit together. He won't *lie* to Simon, nor is he about to admit to what's eating at him, and it leaves him snappish. Leaves the vitriol closer to the surface than it ever has been around Ghost and he hates to see how he reacts to it; he doesn't cower, doesn't flinch, doesn't avoid him, just stares—in a different way than before. John's temper will flare and Ghost will freeze a little, tilt his head, furrow his brow, and fucking stare at him until the moment passes. It might be better if he raised his voice in return, let it escalate into a proper fight—or even if he shut Soap down hard and told him to cool off. Instead Ghost looks at him like he's gone and become a stranger; like he's confused where he doesn't expect to be, and that hurts almost as much as finding out his place isn't next to Simon—or at least, he doesn't have any rightful claim to it.

[joyfuladorable]

Dragon of the Sun by @forestwhisper3

(Ch.5&6>)

You know, it was kind of weird...

Mikey sat on the living room couch, the sci-fi movie he was watching fading into the background after a really campy fight scene between two psychics reminded him of something.

The first time he'd had a freaky dream that ended up sort of true, he'd chalked it up to some weird crystal mumbo-jumbo messing with him. He figured it was a one-and-done sort of thing, especially since he hadn't had another since leaving the underground city.

But now it had happened again, and this time there were no crystals to blame.

GAHHHH!!!! THIS FIC!!! MYSTIC MIKEY BUT IT'S 03 MIKEY!!!!! This fic has my whole damn heart, holy shit! Author does a fantastic job diverging from canon and giving us all the family feels and character depth that the show didn't. My heart? Palpating, pumping, melting onto the damn floor!! Go read it!!!

[writing-for-marvel]

Jo I love this so much you don’t even understand!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Bucky is naturally so protective so his character works so well with the bodyguard au, but every action you included in the elevator and him not wanting to cross that line because he thought it would put her in more danger 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I love how you write Bucky so much!! And then the:

“You belong to me now.”

🥴🥴🥴🥴 he makes my brain go brrrr

Protecting What’s His

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader (Bodyguard AU)

Word Count: 2,590

Summary: Bucky has been your bodyguard for some time now and it’s been hard to deny how badly you want him to be more than that. 

Author’s Note: All these new pics of long haired beefy Seb have got me thinking and I thought I’d try a crack at Bodyguard AU. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirty tension, some fluff, Bucky is a bit serious and grumpy but he’s soft, mention of s-c-ar-s, a moment of slight p-a-ni-c in the elevator 

Bucky holds the door of the elevator open and motions for you to step inside. You walk in and plant yourself along the far wall. Once Bucky is inside he presses the button to close the door.

He dwarfs the entire elevator.

A heavy silence falls between you and your entire body zings with hyperawareness. You try to control your breathing so he won’t notice how affected you are but you’re already concerned it’s written all over your face.

It’s been several months since he’d started being your bodyguard and every one of them has been pure torture. Every inch of him is intimidating with his broad shoulders and thick biceps and legs that go on forever but it’s his eyes that really draw you in. A beautiful blue color like the ocean, framed by long, dark lashes and filled with a softness that contradicts everything about his physical presence.

Keep reading

[tomurakii]

My last post about bloodweave was pretty negative (though necessarily so imo) so I wanted to talk about the little things about the bloodweave dynamic that I DO like and want to see more of in fic (under the cut).

- the orb means Astarion can't start their relationship transactionally. Gale can't give Astarion blood, and also can't have sex with him (and presumably would refuse casual sex anyway). How would the relationship develop without Astarion being able to rely on the give-and-take, forced instead to just trust Gale will watch his back? Astarion isn't a plans guy, I imagine having to come up with something on the spot (considering none of the other companions are reeaaaally an option either) would lead to a lot more emotional vulnerability as he tries to take a route he has much less experience with. Not to mention that the flirty and standoffish front isn't exactly going to endear him to Gale, who approves of the capable, loyal, and righteous. How long can Astarion pretend to be invested in Gale's wellbeing before it becomes true?

- they both have bad ascension endings, but different natural outcomes. Gale is considered the more morally upstanding one, but in their solo states (without the player's influence) Gale will go through with ascension and Astarion won't. Would they goad each other on? Gale disapproves of Astarion's ascension, using arguments that could apply to himself about the personal sacrifice and loss of the soul. Would Astarion flip them around, become defensive? Their dynamic could mean the power hungry character ending up discouraging the pursuit of godhood, or the two of them hurtling over the edge together. Or, maybe, Astarion encouraging Gale to ascend and having to trust him to return.

- they're the party members with the most life experience, and they're also both pretty well-educated (even if Astarion's law qualifications may well have expired by the events of the game). He spent his time under Cazador sewing (like Gale in his Baldur's Gate epilogue) and learning languages (of which Gale knows four). They have enduring common interests beyond their circumstances. Gale can help Astarion rediscover the latent nerd potential he lost when he died, and lord knows he would love to pick his brain for a first hand account of the mid-to-late 12th century.

- Astarion recently regained hope for his future when the tadpole freed him, Gale recently lost all of it. While act 1 is a continuous series of positive discoveries for Astarion (tadpole frees him from cazador -> ceremorphosis is held off by the dream visitor -> tadpole can be controlled), Gale's life gets worse with time as his treatment stops working. It's a dynamic that could give Gale hope, force Astarion to practise empathy, or put them completely at odds.

- Astarion's all-encompassing desire to reclaim his life could be inspiring to Gale. Moreover, I imagine seeing just how passive Gale is about his death would infuriate him. To have so little regard for his real, mortal, free life? It's a great source of angst, and also a great starting point for Gale to start wanting to live again. Because after learning about Astarion's past he would agree, he'd recognise how much value a mortal life was supposed to have. He'd think himself ungrateful or impolite for entertaining the idea of throwing it away when Astarion would give anything to have what he had. This would lead to guilt, and potentially self-loathing, unless someone was there to help pick up the pieces.

- If Astarion meets Oblodra before Gale's act 2 romance scene, (or for a fanfic plot, just before Gale is confident enough to confess) they most likely won't have sex until the graveyard scene in late act 3 (or the post-ascension equivalent). It means that rather than the fuckfest we so often see from bloodweave fics, the relationship is almost entirely a slow-burning, emotionally intimate affair. I'd really love to see that play out, the progression from semi-horny yearning on both parts as the orb keeps them apart, to two love confessions that are followed by the both of them experiencing non-sexual intimacy for the first time in years. I doubt Mystra was one to hug her chosen, after all, or hold their hands.

I just love a bg3 ship that forces the characters to take different actions than they do in canon. It makes me feel like I'm developing a broader understanding of the characters, you know?

[sleepy-wyvern]

This is annon because I don't want this on my Main blog. Would you be comfortable with writing Eddie Munson × female!reader having period sex? In the " I have heard that it helps with cramps" kinda way ?

Sure thing Nonny I gotchu! I forgot to include in my FAQ that I don’t mind period blood. Somehow that totally escaped my brain while writing it lol. Thanks so much for sending in a request dolly, no worries about being anon at all. I thought this was the perfect excuse for some shower fun, I hope I do your request justice and that you enjoy!

"For Science" Menstrual Comfort

Eddie Munson x female!reader SMUT

CW: menstrual topics, playful biting, unprotected sex 18+ explicit minors dni

Tags: period sex, fingering, p in v, shower sex, curvy reader

Pet names: baby, darling, sweetheart (no use of y/n)

Word count: 2.1k

You snuggled up against Eddie, slowly shimmying your ass against his crotch as you reposition yourself. 

Today you stayed home from work because of your menstrual symptoms, and although you insisted it was okay Eddie wanted to be by your side at all times. He cooked you breakfast himself, he learned exactly the way you liked it down to how much milk and sugar in your tea or coffee. He also took out the trash, swept the house and watered the plants. He even had a load of laundry in the washing machine, trying to do everything he could think of to lighten your burdens.

You knew that today Eddie wouldn’t bring up the prospect of sex to you because although there is never a time he would say no to you, today was about what you wanted solely directed by you. It was increasingly difficult for him to not initiate something as you lay in bed together, your ass up against him, feeling the way your curves fit perfectly into his grip around you. He wondered if you were doing it on purpose to test his resolve. 

“You know Ed’s…” you trail off your question. 

Seeing you so vulnerable filled him with a sense of protection, he wanted to hold you there, keeping you safe from the world. He’d give you anything you wanted, and desired you somehow even more. But he kept his eyes on the tv, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear and burying his lips into the top of your head to distract himself. Just say the word, and he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Uh huh?” His attention quickly shifts from the show and onto you. 

You tugged at your shirt nervously. Today you wore an oversized Metallica shirt you had stolen from Eddie along with some old pyjama pants you had. You decided to try period panties instead of your usual tampon or pad this time around, wearing old pants just in case. 

His hand was underneath the fabric of your shirt as you requested, slowly massaging your pelvic region to try and mitigate your cramps. Something about the hold he had on you drove you mad. You knew enough was enough and you had to do something about it. 

“I think I wanna take a shower,” you rubbed your lips together. 

“Okay, yeah, sure darling whatever you need,” as he loosened his grip on you, you immediately missed his touch and were reminded of the aching pain in your body.

He lifted your weighted blanket off of you both, the cool room air making you shiver. You reluctantly stand, motivated only by your plan you had hatched in your head.

Eddie pauses the show for you before going to grab your towel as you make your way to the bathroom. He sets the towel folded neatly near the shower and takes his lighter out of his pocket. You smile to yourself watching his thumb flick a few times before a bright orange flame sprouted up. He brought it up to the candle you had sitting on the counter top, filling the room with your favourite aroma. 

He turns to you then, his eyes darting around the room as he does wondering if he missed anything. “Alright, did you need anything else?” He asked, his eyes finally landing on you. They were large and brown, looking at you with warm love. 

“Ed’s, I’d like you to join me,” your cheeks turn pink as you blush and he’s taken aback by your request. He tries his best to not accept it too hastily, to show you he wasn’t just doing this to see you naked. 

“I’d love to,” he replied and he was just happy to wash your hair and scrub your back. But you wanted a little more than that. 

“You know Eds I was thinking,” you trail your fingers along his waist and unseat her his waistband, tugging him towards you. You could already see the bulge lift in his pants. 

“I read online that sex is good for your period” your eyes look up to meet him and a wicked grin grows on his face. 

“Oh is that so sweetheart?” He licks his lips after he speaks, pressing them together. 

You undo his belt buckle as you smile back at him. You’ve done it enough times by now you could do it with your eyes closed. Plus you knew it drove him mad the way you stared into his eyes while you dropped the belt to the floor with a light thud and clink of metal against the tile. 

His hands slide underneath the fabric of your oversized t shirt “well, I guess I could oblige,” he sighs pretending to be as uninterested as possible with a sly smile on his face to let you know he was being playful “you know, in the name of science.”

“Yes, of course,” you giggle as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, something he had wanted to do the entire morning knowing you had no bra underneath. 

You pull him closer to you again, undoing his jeans quickly, unzipping his fly and feeling yourself getting wet for him. 

He pulls his hellfire tee up and over his head while you shimmy out of your pyjama bottoms, feeling your wetness against your thigh. He was sure to flex his arms and shoulders in the way you liked as he did, showing off his torso for you. 

You smiled teasingly back at him before turning to get into the shower, letting him have full view of your ass.

His eyes move down your body hungrily “wow,” he whispers tracing the curves of your body with his eyes. 

You enter the shower feeling the warm droplets touch your shivering skin. Brushing your hair back with your hands you let the water flow over you. Before long Eddie joins you, first laying his hand gently on your waist as the water dampens his hair. Quickly his desire takes over as he grasps at your love handles. 

You turn to face him, the water trickling down your back as you do. You wrap your arms around his neck and your lips meet in a loving, heated kiss. His hand moves to your breasts as he gently runs his fingers over you, careful due to your increased sensitivity. You tilt your head back as he toys with your nipples, moving his lips to your neck. He trails kisses beneath the droplets of water before gently sucking, his other hand pulling your body into his. 

You let out a gasp of air, the faintest moan as he nibbles at your neck, thumb swirling against your skin. He moved his fingers down between your legs, feeling how wet your entrance was. He smiled with eyebrows raised as he brushed his fingers against you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, giving your ear kisses “you just always overtake me with how lovely your entire body is.”

You giggle at him, a little flustered by his response “you know you don’t have to flatter me like that, you already have me here naked” you turn away from him then, letting the water hit your face. 

“I know,” he wraps his arms around your body and you can feel his hard on pressing against your butt “but that won’t ever stop me from worshiping you like you deserve,” he whispers lovingly into your ear. 

You bend your body over, grinding your spread ass up against his crotch. He grabs at the roundness of your ass cheeks as you do, unable to resist. He brings his fingers to your entrance before easily plunging in, making you let out a moan that was louder than you intended, sending sparks through Eddie’s entire body. 

You spread your legs eagerly for him, granting better access. He moves his fingers inside of you lovingly, testing different motions to see what elicits the best response out of you. The feeling was no less than divine but you wanted- no, needed- more of him.

“Ed’s,” you whimper, hands pressed against the wall of the shower. 

The water flowed over your arched back and you felt it dribble down your thighs. You turn your head to catch a glance at him, his wet hair pressed against his neck. He looked into your eyes sweetly as he continued fingering you and you knew he’d give you anything you wanted. 

“I want your cock,” your lip quivered as you spoke “please,”

“Whatever my baby wants,” he ran a hand lovingly over your back sending chills through you.

You close your eyes letting the sensations take over, feeling his tip slowly press against your throbbing cunt. You were glad the wall was there to steady you as he slowly, yet easily, slipped into you. The tight pressure never felt so good, distracting you from everything else. Your body shakes as he fully enters, hitting the back of your cunt. 

“Is-is that okay?” Eddie stutters, grabbing at your ass. 

“Mmhmm” you mumble before realizing he may not hear you against the rushing water “keep going,” you say louder this time. 

He pulls out a little before sliding back in, pushing you against the shower wall, this time letting out a loving moan. He takes this as a good sign of encouragement, thrusting in and out more, motivated by every movement and every sound you make. He was gentle at first, afraid somehow being on your period it would hurt you. But before long he was grunting as he held your ass, ramming into your slippery cunt. 

Your sweet high pitched moans sounded like a song against his deeper grunts and thigh slapping against the water. It was a perfect combination, an irresistible one and it had Eddie feeling like he would finish before he should, so he slowed to a stop.

You were curious as to his intention, opening your eyes to watch him. The sight of him inside you made you squirm as he offered you a shaken lustful smirk. He moved his fingers to your cunt, rubbing against you until he found your clit. 

Closing your eyes again you let out a moan “yes-yes! There there,” you beg him, biting your lower lip as he runs circles over your clit. 

Your mouth droops open as he toys with you, letting out quick gasps of air. His cock throbs inside of you as your walls tighten against him enjoying the attention. You felt your pleasure building up as you clench your fingers against the wall, he starts thrusting into you again, slowly as sure to not interrupt his finger work. 

The feeling was too much as it pushed you over the edge of orgasm, as your cunt clenched against him he knew you finished. He moved his fingers to caress your back instead. 

“Good job baby,” he whispered, the words fluttering through your chest. 

He continues to thrust into you, faster now. Your body presses into the cold shower wall, still limp and numb from pleasure. You bring a hand back to your ass, squeezing it and spreading it for him, pressing back into him. 

As the feeling in your cunt returns you moan in overstimulation doing your best to keep from squirming. He grabs your hips to help as he grunts, he lets out a gasp and you knew he was there, cock twitching inside of you as he released his orgasm into you. Your heart beats in your ear drums as you let out a deep breath of air, feeling satisfied and filled with him. 

He pulls out of you grabbing at your waist as you straighten your body. You turn to face him with a large smile on your lips. 

“Have fun darling? Cause I sure as hell did” he laughed with joy in his eyes, pulling your body up against him.

Your bodies touched in a warm loving embrace, he never felt so good as the water ran down you both. He held you close and tight with strong loving arms and your cheek pressed into the tattoo on his chest. 

“My cramps are gone” you say against him, grinning wildly. 

“Well well well, guess we’ll know what the doctor orders for you the rest of the week,” he kisses your forehead as you laugh.

You look up into his brown eyes, his hair caked against his forehead in wild wet curls. You fake a disappointed sigh, betrayed by the upward tilt in the corner of your lips. 

“I guess if it’s what the doctor says I need,” you reply before sharing a deep, loving kiss. 

——---

If you like this, feel free to leave a comment, like, or reblog, I treasure every one! My requests are currently open as well!

As always, hope you have a great day my lovely reader!

💙💙💙💙

-Wyv

[hi1stuff]

HE LEARNED TO TIE HIS TIE PROPERLY 🥹🥹🥹

[writing-for-marvel]

This is so sweet 🥺🥺 big gestures can be nice but it’s the everyday things that take weight off your shoulders and show that they care that feel really meaningful

My favourite line:

“You’re always doing things for others. Let me do this for you,” he said, eyes gentle and sweet.

one for you and me

BUCKY BARNES X READER

summary: bucky takes care of you since you’re always taking care of others

wc: 430

warnings: fluff, sweet sweet bucky barnes, friends to implied lovers

a/n: hopping on the orange discourse

You knew he was the one when he handed you the sweet citrus fruit one afternoon.

Since the weather was getting colder, you decided to stock up on vitamins, and what better way to do it than buy boxes and boxes of oranges.

Whenever one of the team came by the kitchen, you would peel an orange for them. Or sometimes, you would just peel it and have it ready for them after their training sessions or morning jogs so they remember to get their daily dose of vitamin C.

You were reading your book by the windowsill in the living room one day when you smelled the faint bright scent.

Then, someone placed a freshly peeled orange in front of your sight. “Here you go.”

You looked up, eyes meeting Bucky’s.

You paused for a moment before reaching out and taking it from his hand. “Thank you,” you said, appreciative but kind of confused.

“How come you’re giving me this?” you asked, curious.

“You’re always looking after other people,” he answered immediately. “When was the last time you ate one yourself?”

You chuckled. “I don’t mind,” you replied, “I just came back from a long mission. I’m free for the time being anyways.”

“Still,” he added, “You’re always doing things for others. Let me do this for you,” he said, eyes gentle and sweet.

Your heart swelled at his words.

It dawned on you. Something as simple as peeling a small fruit. It gets into your nails and the juice drips down your hands sometimes. It’s an act of labour—an act of love. And Bucky wanted to do it for you. He notices. He cares.

How sweet, you think. It made the butterflies in your stomach flutter tenfold. You had to look down to hide your grin and that action within itself made Bucky blush.

“Think you can handle peeling oranges for me for the rest of your life?” you teased.

He pondered for a bit, then a small smile crept up his face. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he replied.

Although the words weren’t said, the implication was there. He’s going to be by your side. He wanted to be by your side. He’s willing to get his hands dirty and sticky.

You grabbed the delicately peeled orange and split it in half. “Here, let’s share.”

The two of you sit by the windowsill, your book half forgotten in your lap, tearing segments of the fruit and giving it to each other—something promising between the two of you in the air.

[aresmarked]

Me musing to myself: how to go about this... I think mizuki still feels, personally, like they could be possibly fem enby, or possibly specifically x-gender, considering the momentary resignation when explaining to that well-meaning classmate in anni4 that yes, she does like wearing 'cool' stuff, just particularly likes wearing cute things, and that absolutely rang to me like 'complicated gender Stuff™ for cis people: intro class analogy 'cause i'm not getting into it'. Also i like how using multiple pronouns in English helps nod to the fact that some things are lost in translation, so it'll be a nice touch to acknowledge some of the unique gender identities that spring up in Japan. So when i write fics i will continue to use both they and she for Mizuki as I feel is right and shift according to how i'm writing for that piec-

Me: *sees the zero reading comp folk insisting that the classmates making transphobic comments asking if ena's a guy too or a normal girl means mizukis actually a boy*

Me:

Me, tucking my interpretation onto the shelf: i'll come back for you when it's just good company again ok? It's gonna be singular pronoun sets for a bit.

[minuitdanslalune]

Natsu's crying face is pretty cute

[thusspoketrish]

New Chapter | The Art of Getting By

Chapter 9 | The Art of Getting By

Excerpt:

Once they’re safely back on the zoo’s path, Draco reflects darkly on Harry’s infallible knack for finding new and creative ways to endanger himself—and slowly drive Draco to the brink of madness. Whether it’s through his relentless flirting and sexual innuendo, his arseholeish sass, or his sheer, idiotic recklessness, Harry manages to infuriate and charm Draco in equal measures. It’s utterly maddening that, despite everything, Draco finds himself torn between wanting to suck his cock or toss him into a horde of angry flamingos.  Draco’s musings are cut short as they sidestep a group of tiny children wearing neon yellow vests, walking in two messy lines down the pathway. One little girl at the front stops, staring wide-eyed at Draco, and points a pudgy finger at his head while touching her dark red hair.  “Oh, pretty!” she exclaims, grinning and revealing two missing front teeth. “A pretty princess!” Draco blushes as Harry bursts into laughter. Oh, Merlin! He was getting hit left and right today with mortifying moments—an insane, man-eating snake, his equally insane, man-eating boyfriend, and now, a child calling him a princess! Just as Draco further contemplates his growing list of embarrassments, one of the child’s carers swoops in to usher her along. “Now, Isabelle, it’s very rude to point,” the older woman gently chastises. She glances up at Draco. “Oh my! You do have rather pretty hair.”

Read The Art of Getting By on AO3, here.

Please mind the tags and warnings.

_________________

I need to give another shoutout to my glorious beta, @youknowyoudid for the phenomenal work she's been doing in triple checking over these chapters again before posting!!! Thank you!!! x

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Image Text:

The Art of Getting By

Interlude: Fuck Them, Only We Know

Written by Trishjames and Edited by YouKnowYouDid

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Chapter Playlist:

Banks: Fuck Em Only We Know

Sigor Ros: Hoppípolla

Saoirse Ronan: Tell Me

[writing-for-marvel]

Awww this is so sweet 🥹🥰 little Bella is such a charmer 🩷🩷 and the cutest unintentional matchmaker ever!

Barbie

Single dad Bucky x reader

Had this idea that I thought would be cuteeeee; Bucky's little baby seeing a real life Barbie doll for the first time.

Bucky's POV "Daddy lets go!!" Bella's tiny hand tugged on Bucky's much larger one, urging him towards the door, determination written all over her little face, "It'll start soon!"

"Alright peanut, I promise we won't be late" he chuckled, letting his daughter pull him with all her might, not wanting to miss a second of the new Barbie movie. He raised a brow at the strength his four year old had when she got excited. It was all Bella talked about since the first movie trailer came out and ever since, the house was filled with every shade of pink imaginable. Bella had marked the date on the fridge, counting down the days though Bucky decided to wait a few weeks before taking her so the crowd wouldn't be too much for her, wanting her to actually enjoy the movie.

"Ready peanut?" Bucky scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the car, adjusting the frilly pink tutu she had on so he could buckle her in the car seat. She had been previously unamused at his lack of outfits that would match Ken but ultimately settled on something much, much better.

"Ready daddy" She nodded, straightening out the matching tiara she had placed in on his head, hardly able to contain her little squeals of excitement, double checking the pink heart magnets she'd stuck on his arm. Bucky pecked her chubby cheek before getting into the drivers seat and pulling out the car, just as excited himself to have a relaxing day with his babygirl.

Your POV

You huffed, smoothing out the front of your dress, hyping yourself up in front of the mirror before slipping on your heels, taking them off and putting them back on again.

Then slipping one off before strapping it back on firmly in place.

There was no reason for you to be nervous.

You looked amazing. There was no doubt there. That shade of pink was radiant against your skin. Not a hair out of place. Your makeup was perfect. Yet your heart wouldn't stop breathing just a smidge too fast. You deserved this. After a long, exhausting week you deserved a day to yourself to just feel good and relaxed. Yet your nerves were lit ablaze while you double checked your lipstick.

You were a grown ass woman, you didn't need to explain yourself to anyone as to why you were seeing this movie alone.

Dressed up in your cutest matching pink outfit.

You could do whatever you wanted...Is what you whispered to yourself before grabbing your purse and making a beeline towards to door before you changed your mind again. You pulled into the parking lot, glad your decided to wait a while to see this movie instead of going on opening night, noting it was a much quieter night, easing some of your nerves.

You went over to the snack counter, browsing the wide selection of candy, grabbing both sour candy and chocolate before joining the line to have your ticket scanned. You glanced down at your outfit once again, smoothing your a hand over your hair before straightening your shoulders.

You deserved this.

Bucky's POV

Bucky's heart swelled at the little clicks his daughters dress up heels made as they made their way up to the snack counter hand in hand; she was a ball of pink and frills with a tiny purse to finish the look off. She stumbled slightly, keeping up with his long strides, eyes wide taking in her surroundings along with the smell of fresh popcorn.

"What do you feel like getting jellybean" Bucky picked her up, letting her scan the rack of candy while he ordered a large popcorn and soda.

"This please daddy?" She pointed to a large swirly rainbow lollypop, waiting patiently when he set her back down making their way towards the ticket line. Her hand was still firmly holding onto his, a gasp slipping past her lips when her eyes landed on the best thing imaginable. Bucky looked up towards the direction his daughter was staring in, curious about the tiny gasp she let out and what had suddenly caught her attention.

The prettiest doll she'd ever seen. But in real life.

She couldn't take her eyes off her pretty pink dress or her matching heels. She was sure her favorite Barbie doll at home had the same shade of lipstick as hers. She clung onto Bucky's leg as they made their way over, tugging at his jeans to get his attention.

"Daddy! It's a Barbie doll" She whispered as he crouched down to her level, "She's so pretty" He could tell by her antsy squirming she wanted to talk to the real life Barbie boll, itching to take off at any moment. Bucky blinked, feeling his heart flutter, brows furrowing at why it was doing that, stop that.

But Bella was right.

She was pretty.

As soon as he saw who his daughter was pointing to, his own mind momentarily stopped working, only noticing her take off when he saw a blur of pink dash away, making a bee line towards the young woman.

Shit.

Your POV

"Hi" A small voice chirped behind you, leaving you confused when you didn't see anyone near by. Until you looked down. You smiled seeing the little girl behind you dressed in all pink, the tiara on her head slightly crooked, a lollypop sticking out of her purse. "You look so pretty"

"Thank you sweetheart" You cooed, gasping when a handsome stranger, clearly her father, grabbed her into his arms, shaking his head. He had a sparkly gold tiara on his head matching hers, flecks of pink glitter dusting his cheeks, some sprinkled onto his fluffy chestnut locks. You couldn't help the smile that spread onto your face when your eyes landed on the many magnets that were stuck onto his arm ranging from pink hearts to rainbows and the Barbie logo.

"Bella" He scooped her up, blowing a raspberry onto her cheek making her giggle, "You can't run off like that babygirl"

"Sorry daddy, wanted to see Barbie" She gave him her best pout, making you laugh, your own cheeks heating up when he looked over at you with a shy smile, matching hers.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

A whole ass DILF.

You shook your head, figuring he probably had a wife or girlfriend, there was no way he was single.

Bucky's POV

"She's really exited" Bucky said apologetically while you both had your tickets scanned, walking towards the same theatre room, butterflies fluttering in his tummy again.

"It's okay, this little princess made my day" You tried to sound light hearted though you were nervous meeting his soft baby blue eyes.

"Can she sit with us?" Bella pipped up before anyone sat own, giving her dad another dose of puppy eyes and a pout before turning to you and giving you the same treatment.

"Oh-uh-" Bucky figured you would've come with friends (maybe even a boyfriend...hopefully not...), though he didn't see anyone around when you were in line earlier. Either way, he was sure you wouldn't want to spend your movie day with a single dad and his very cute, albeit excited little girl. "I don't know baby-

"Actually, it's just me, I-don't mind" you smiled at the way Bella's eyes lit up along with an excited squeak, wiggling out of Bucky's hold to slip her hand into yours, pulling you to the middle of the row.

"Thank you" Bucky gave you a grateful smile, a tiny greedy part of him happy to sit with the sweet stranger his daughter was enamored with.

****

You adored watching the movie with Bella, leaning down whenever she'd whisper something, her hand often holding onto your pinky through most of the movie. You both made your way out of the theatre once the end credits began to roll, feeling a pang of something again when you noticed your cars happened to be parked side by side.

What were the chances-

Stop.

He probably has a partner, you scolded yourself internally while Bella gave you a sleepy hug before Bucky settled her into her car seat and shutting the door softly.

"Hi again" Bucky smiled bashfully, hoping the pink on his cheeks wasn't too obvious as he leaned against his car door, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Why would someone as pretty and kind hearted as you want to go on a date with someone who came with baggage.....but maybe...

"Hi again" You nearly stumbled over your words, your heart hammering while he fidgeted with his phone, chewing his lip before speaking.

"I wanted to say thank you again. For today. I-I hope this isn't too forward but-uh-to say thank you properly-maybe coffee? If you don't like coffee then something else-dinner? Maybe a date-unless you don't want it to be a date-"

"I'd love to" you cut off his nervous rambling while Bucky let out the breath he was holding, giving you his phone for you to add your number in. He waited for you to get into your car, waving as you pulled out before getting into his own car, surprised to find Bella now wide awake with a cheeky smile on her face.

"Will we see Barbie again?" Bella eyed Bucky curiously while Bucky's phone pinged with a text message from you.

Can't wait to see you, keep the tiara on x

Bucky grinned, reaching behind to playfully tickle her foot before smiling at his phone again.

"I think we will"

[desi-yearning]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: มิตรภาพคราบศัตรู | High School Frenemy (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Saint Thamnithit/Shin Naruebet (High School Frenemy) Characters: Saint Thamnithit (High School Frenemy), Shin Naruebet (High School Frenemy) Additional Tags: fluffuary2025, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Love Confessions, Late Night Conversations, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor, and more tags that i can't think of at the moment Summary:

Shin’s heart melts looking at the sincerity in Saint’s eyes and all his doubts slowly dissipate. If Saint is saying that he is in love with him, then it must be the truth. Neither of them was ever able to lie to each other without making it obvious. And thus Shin dares to hope once again. Maybe they do have a chance, maybe this is all worth a shot.

[wizardnuke]

important aspect of shadowgast To Me is that caleb thinks it's cute when essek's being a bitch and visa versa

[writing-for-marvel]

This is so incredibly sweet 🥹🥹🥹 I particularly loved the note in the bathroom and the significance to Bucky, he deserves all the love 🥰🥰🥰

Sticky Notes

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x female!Reader (no physical descriptions though)

Word Count: 905 (it’s short I know)

Summary: Returning from a mission is Bucky’s favorite part of his day, because you’re there to welcome him home. But what happens when it’s in the middle of the night and you’re already asleep?

Warnings: mentions of blood (no description though), no other warnings really, just fluffiness

A/N: This is my submission for @pellucid-constellations love notes writing challenge. Also I know I sent you an ask about tags, but I couldn’t wait to post it so feel free to ignore that lol This is also my first submission for any writing challenge ever and I’m so excited to finally be a part of one! I hope you enjoy it! 💕

Bucky Masterlist

Coming home from an exhausting mission was always the highlight of Bucky’s day or week, or sometimes even a month. However, this time, it was the middle of the night when he finally walked up those two steps to the front door or your home, fiddling with the key in the lock while trying to be as quiet as possible. 

Usually, you’d be there, sitting on the couch and waiting for him to walk through that door. You would wait for him to come to you, because sometimes, when things went wrong, he wouldn’t want to be crowded with your love immediately. He’d need time to adjust back to domestic life. So you’d always wait for him to make the first move, to decide if he wanted to join you or if he needed a moment to himself before letting you place chaste kisses over the skin of his cheeks and his shoulders. Not tonight though. 

He swung the door open to reveal the living room, empty, the kitchen light gently pooling in through the doorway. Enough to light his way, though he probably didn’t need it, it was the thought that counted. He softly sighed, missing you and planning to just fall into the blankets by your side. But the growling in his stomach quickly altered those plans. 

Keep reading

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍