#crying I love them so much......... the TENDERNESS

[dannyriccsystem]

SOOOOO ABOUT THAT ONE K SPECIAL

perhaps daniel ric with soft make out session and virginity loss? #virginsunite😞✅

TAKE ME ONE MORE TIME.

1K SPECIAL - DR3

Soft make out session + Virginity loss

SUMMARY: Danny makes sure to be extra gentle with you after finding out it’s your first time. Ever.

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: Virginity loss, smut, P in V, cunnilingus, gentle dom Daniel

FEATURING: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

NOTE: I miss him so bad

YOU AWOKE TO KISSES ON YOUR SHOULDER. They were tender and light, like the man giving them was scared of hurting you. His lips were searing on your skin, every brush felt hot. You blinked away the sleep, peering over your shoulder at Danny, who was holding your waist tight and peppering you in his love.

“Mmm, good morning.” You muttered. His gaze drifted up towards you, and soon after his lips were on yours. It wasn’t a harsh attack, but a soft acceptance of your consciousness. You grinned against him, your eyes fluttering shut. You nearly succumbed to sleep, feeling utterly relaxed.

“Mornin’.” His voice was deep and groggy—it came as a deep rumble from deep within his chest. You licked your lips, tasting him on you still.

You turned back around, shifting your weight back against his hold—then it got serious. You could feel something hard pressing against your thighs, rubbing up against the curve of your ass. You swallowed thickly, unsure of how to feel.

Danny didn’t know, but you were still a virgin. It was just a personal thing about not wanting to have sex until you were close with someone. You had done other acts, but legitimate sex had yet to happen. It was somewhat embarrassing, which is why you avoided letting him know.

You knew it would come up eventually, though. Your boyfriend was very sexually active. He never forced you into anything, but you found yourself frequently pretending you couldn’t hear him jerking off in the shower, or how he’d occasionally get hard when watching movies together. This was unavoidable.

“Danny?” Your voice cracked as you called his name.

“Sweetheart,” He replied, slyly kissing your neck.

“I need to tell you something, but you have to promise not to judge.” He jokingly scoffed, because he had seen nearly everything. He had seen you naked, he had seen you cry, he had seen your genuine laugh instead of the cute one you used on first dates.

You were serious, though. He froze, and then nodded. “Okay, go on.”

“I’m a virgin-” You blurted out, your back still to him. He didn’t say anything at first, and then the silence started to get uncomfortable. You looked at him again, and he was just staring at you with a dorky smile. “What?”

“I’m just kinda honored. I mean, I’m not expecting anything, but if you want to have sex, I promise to be gentle and considerate.” He looked genuinely giddy, like a child on christmas morning. It helped ease your worries by a lot.

“I don’t know,” He traced little circles into your stomach. “I want to, but I’m a little scared.” Would it hurt? Would he fit? What if you were too loose? Ugh, so many worries.

“Don’t be scared.” Danny stated firmly. “I promise to take good care of you.” You visibly relaxed, the tension flowing from your body.

You sucked in a sharp breath, holding it while nodding. “Yes,” You breathed out. “I really do want to have sex with you.”

Daniel nodded as well, kissing your lips. “Good, because I want to, also.” When he pulled away, he gently pushed your head to face forward again. You let him move you around a bit, your breath hitched when he started to pull down your pajama shorts. It all started to feel too real.

You shut your eyes tight, listening to the sound of shuffling clothes. When you felt something warm and slightly wet press to your folds, you flinched. Danny, with his arms around your waist, whispered into your ear, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah…” You appreciated him checking in constantly. Asking for consent like that somehow made him so much hotter. With your final confirmation, he slowly pushed his cock into your hole, groaning into your ear.

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath.

“Shit-” You stuttered out, legs twitching as he breached your hole. He paused, letting your poor pussy adjust to his size before he continued to push himself all the way in. You seethed, your body melted into his hold.

“You’re doing so good,” He whispered sweet praises into your ear, his arms wrapped around your midsection. “Does it hurt? I can pull out,” He kissed the spot behind your ear.

“No!” You quickly blurted out, whining under your breath. “I… I don’t want you to.”

“Can I start moving then?”

“Yes.”

With your permission, Danny began to thrust his hips. He was slow, making sure he listened for any signs of pain. He listened for pleasure, too, taking note of everything that made you feel good. Your little whimpers were music to his ear.

You turned your head over your shoulder, looking down at where he was penetrating you with a dazed expression. He chuckled and leaned in to kiss you. His tongue gave your lips little kitten licks before you opened your mouth, enough for him to move forth. You were both moaning into the kiss while he sped up. His hips slammed against yours, your cunt fluttering and your legs twitching.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart, I’m about to come,” He grunted. Your stomach churned with excitement. You weren’t quite there yet, but you trusted him to take good care of you.

He pulled out, his cock releasing. Some of it landed on you, but most of his cum was shot onto the mattress. You were worried you’d go without coming, but your worries were subsided when he rolled you onto your back and pushed himself onto his knees between your legs.

Your hands found his curls, helping guide him towards your wet cunt. You could feel him smirk against you. Daniel darted his tongue out to lap at your wet, greedy folds. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying this.

Danny slipped two fingers inside slowly, curling them to brush against your spongy walls. He repeatedly teased the spot that make you whine, his confident smirk growing. You threw your head back with every lick and every thrust.

“Danny, I think I’m coming-!” You squealed, both hands now gripping his soft curls. His tongue flicked against your clit.

“Come.” He commanded in a low murmur against your vagina, his tongue licking confident stripes through your folds. You shuddered, your orgasm washing over you.

He helped you ride through the waves of it, continuously licking and thrusting his fingers into you. When your body relaxed, releasing all the tension, he pulled away.

“Feel good?” Daniel checked in with that smug grin of his. You nodded rather bashfully, pulling him down for another kiss, and then grimacing at the taste on his lips.

“Ew-uh, I forgot you were just eating me.” He laughed at your reaction, licking his own lips.

“I thought it tasted good.”

[cosmiclily]

idk if i wanted this before or someone did but can you write about vi and reader having a baby? i really want to see it and vi's thing about babies😭

ivy - part one

★vi x f!reader

wc: 4k

notes: been getting many requests about vi and reader having kids so here it is !!! in the first part they are not having a baby baby but wait for part two !!! 😋 thank you @strawb4kdior and anons for the requests!

Vi had always dreamed of having a big family. She grew up surrounded by noise, laughter, and the constant chaos of siblings under one roof—there was always someone shouting, someone crying, someone laughing. That was home to her. That was comfort.

So, when you got married, there was a quiet—sometimes not so quiet—expectation from her side of the family about when you two would start "popping out babies," as Mylo so charmingly put it.

That first holiday season after your wedding, when you visited her family in Zaun, it felt like the pressure kicked into full gear. Vander, ever the affectionate father figure, gave the two of you a box filled with baby clothes—tiny shirts, knitted socks, and a ridiculous little hat shaped like a mushroom.

“Ay, I’m not saying you’re having children right away,” he said with a teasing grin, pointing a thick thumb toward Vi. “But I know this one. She’ll want a whole football team at home before long.”

You laughed along with him, mostly because it was easier than unpacking the tangle of emotions that followed. But later that night, the laughter faded, and your thoughts grew heavier.

Because the truth was… you weren’t like Vi.

You hadn’t grown up with siblings. There was no chaotic, loving noise. Just you, your mom, your dad, and the occasional visit from a cousin or two. Quiet dinners. Controlled spaces. Predictable routines. The idea of raising a child—let alone several—felt like stepping into a world you’d never been taught how to navigate.

It scared you.

You were afraid of losing the little sanctuary you and Vi had built together—your late-night talks, your slow mornings, your messy, peaceful life. Afraid that having a child would shift everything out of balance, and that maybe you wouldn’t know how to hold it all together.

After the Christmas dinner, once everyone had gone to bed and the house had finally quieted down, Vi turned to you. Maybe she sensed your unease, or maybe you hadn’t done as good a job hiding it as you thought.

The two of you were lying in bed, facing each other under thick quilts, her hand gently stroking your hair as your eyes began to flutter closed.

“You know we don’t have to have kids right away, right?” she said softly, voice low and warm. “Or ever, if that’s what you want.”

You blinked slowly, your chest tightening at the tenderness in her voice.

“I know how hesitant you are about this,” she continued. “It’s a big change. And I get that it’s not just about wanting them or not. It’s about the kind of life we’d have, the kind of people we’d need to become. And if it ever feels like too much... I’d rather just have you. No tiny feet, no bedtime stories, no chaos—just you.”

You looked at her, eyes glassy with exhaustion but brimming with love. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” you whispered. “I know how much you want it.”

Vi smiled gently, brushing her thumb along your cheek. “You could never disappoint me. Family doesn’t have to look one way. It can just be us. And if someday you feel ready… then we talk about it again. Together.”

You didn’t reply right away. You just nestled closer to her, your forehead pressed gently to hers, comforted by the quiet honesty in her words.

And looking back now, that moment—her patience, her reassurance—was what changed everything for you. You hated being pressured into anything, especially something as life-altering as parenthood. But knowing Vi wasn’t expecting anything from you that you didn’t want to give… it lifted a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying.

And from that point on, you started to look at the world through a different lens.

──────────────────────

A year and a half into your married life, everything felt like it had finally settled into place. You were thriving in your career, pouring your time and energy into several outreach programs and charities—especially those supporting children in Zaun. You’d become a familiar face in the shelters and clinics, and from time to time, Vi would show up during your shifts, bringing you lunch or tagging along to visit the homes where the children were placed.

She always lit up around the kids—laughing, joking, lifting them up onto her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. But one day, everything shifted.

You met Ivy.

She was five years old when she first arrived—thin, quiet, and sharp-eyed, with wild, bright blue hair and big brown eyes that held more weight than any child should ever carry. The first time Vi saw her, something changed in her expression. You caught the way her eyes softened, how her whole body leaned forward just a little, like she was seeing something familiar—something important.

At first, Ivy was timid. She barely spoke to the other children, and when you tried to approach her, she’d only nod or shrink away. But Vi didn’t give up. She spoke to her gently, cracked jokes, made silly faces, brought her little gifts and toy trinkets. And slowly, Ivy began to open up.

It became a pattern—every time you had to stop by the shelter, Vi insisted on coming with you. “Just to say hi,” she’d claim, but you knew better.

One day, you left them alone to deal with some paperwork—endless inventory lists and requisition forms. When you came back, you stopped in the doorway and froze.

Vi was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the playroom, wearing a bright pink tutu over her pants, a plastic princess crown balanced crookedly on her head, and a tiny toy teacup clutched in her hand. Across from her sat Ivy in a matching tutu, proudly holding a stuffed cow in her lap and beaming like the sun.

“Do you want more tea?” Ivy asked, her voice sweet and filled with excitement.

“Yes, please!” Vi said, holding out her cup with exaggerated elegance, pinky finger raised high in the air.

You stood there quietly, heart catching in your throat, watching as Ivy poured invisible tea into Vi’s cup. Their laughter echoed softly around the room, and in that moment, it hit you like a wave.

This wasn’t just another child. This wasn’t just another case or temporary bond.

She wasn’t just someone you were helping.

Ivy was your daughter.

──────────────────────

After you got home, the two of you sat down for dinner, the clinking of cutlery and the quiet hum of the city outside the only sounds filling the space. You pushed the food around on your plate, barely tasting it, your mind too full.

You knew it was time to talk to Vi.

“I…” The word hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. You didn’t know how to begin. Vi had formed such a natural, close bond with Ivy—it was effortless, like they’d been connected long before they’d even met. But for you, it felt different. You cared deeply, maybe even more than you could admit out loud yet, but Ivy still looked at you like you were a kind stranger passing through her life.

And you were terrified that she’d never see you as more than that.

Vi’s brow furrowed the moment you hesitated. She turned toward you, concern etched across her face. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I mean—yeah, everything’s fine, I just…” You exhaled slowly, steadying your voice. “I wanted to tell you that I… I submitted us to be Ivy’s foster family.”

Vi’s eyes widened in surprise, her fork falling to the plate with a soft clatter. “What? When did you—?”

“Just before we left the shelter,” you interrupted, rushing the words out before you could second-guess yourself. “I know we said we’d make that kind of decision together, but I saw you with her, Vi. I saw how she looks at you, how she laughs with you, and… I don’t know, I just—something clicked. It felt right in the moment, and I thought, ‘Why not us?’ But now I’m spiraling because maybe it was too impulsive, maybe we won’t even get approved, and maybe—”

“Hey. Hey. Baby,” Vi said gently, reaching across the table to take your hands in hers. “Breathe, alright? You’re not crazy. You’re not wrong. And I’m not mad. Far from it.”

You looked up at her, eyes stinging a little.

“I’m thrilled,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “Ivy’s special. And I see it in you too—the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching. You care about her more than you realize.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Then that’s all that matters. If we get approved—amazing. If not, we keep visiting. We stay in her life. We try again. We don’t give up. Not on her.”

A small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. You squeezed her hands.

Vi smiled back, then leaned forward and kissed your knuckles.

──────────────────────

You had to make a lot of changes to your home before you were even considered for foster parenting.

Vi’s office was the first to go. It transformed into a small, bright room with plain white walls—you’d both agreed Ivy should get to choose the color herself once she settled in. You child-proofed the entire house, securing cabinets, covering outlets, padding sharp corners. It was a whirlwind, too fast by most people’s standards, but you couldn’t slow down.

You knew it was too soon. You knew there were risks, that things could fall apart. But every time Vi’s eyes lit up at a stuffed animal, a little blanket, or a book she thought Ivy would love, it drowned out the anxious voice in your head that warned this might not work. That it might all be temporary.

Vi had even told Jinx—despite your insistence that it wasn’t an adoption yet, just fostering. Naturally, Jinx told everyone else. And soon after, Vander was at your front door with a toolbox, claiming he was there to “help Vi set up the kid’s room,” though you suspected he mostly just wanted to feel included.

──────────────────────

The letter came on a rainy Tuesday afternoon—thin, unassuming, almost like junk mail. You were about to toss it when Vi caught the official stamp in the corner and snatched it from your hand. She tore it open, fingers shaking, while you stood beside her, breath caught in your chest.

Her eyes scanned the page. Then she looked up at you, wide-eyed, breathless.

“We got her.”

You blinked, stunned. “What?”

“We got her, baby,” she repeated, voice breaking into a disbelieving laugh. “We’re approved. Ivy’s coming home.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Vi wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close, her face buried in your shoulder. You held each other in the quiet, rain tapping against the windows like applause from the universe itself.

The day you went to pick her up, Ivy stood at the top of the shelter’s worn stone steps, her little backpack clutched tightly in her hands. Her blue hair was tied in uneven pigtails, and her big brown eyes blinked up at you, cautious, searching—hopeful.

Vi was the first to kneel down, soft and open. “Hey, kiddo. Ready to come home?”

Ivy didn’t answer right away. She looked from Vi to you, her voice small and cracking the silence: “Will I get to stay this time?”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You knelt beside Vi and reached out to gently take Ivy’s hand.

“Yes, Ivy,” you said. “You get to stay. For as long as you want.”

Vi smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair. “We’ve got a room just for you. And guess what? You get to choose the wall color. We’ll put up fairy lights, and we’ve got a bookshelf waiting for all your princess stories.”

“And teacups,” you added with a wink. “Tiny ones.”

That got a smile from Ivy—shy but real—and she gave a small nod.

The car ride home was quiet. Ivy curled up in the backseat with the stuffed bunny Vi had given her weeks ago, occasionally peeking at the two of you in the front seat as if to make sure you were still there. Still real.

When you arrived, Vi scooped her up in one arm and twirled her once in the hallway, making her giggle for the first time that day.

That night, after Ivy had fallen asleep beneath a blanket of stars projected onto her ceiling, you and Vi stood quietly in her doorway, arms around each other, watching the rise and fall of her tiny breaths.

“We have a daughter,” you whispered.

Vi rested her chin on your head and nodded, her voice thick with emotion. “Yeah… we really do.”

──────────────────────

The first few days at home were a mix of quiet observation and small, cautious steps. Ivy was polite and sweet, always whispering “thank you” and “sorry,” even when there was nothing to be sorry for. She kept to herself at first, mostly playing in her room—arranging and rearranging the books on her little shelf or curling up with her stuffed bunny in the cozy reading nook Vi and Vander had built by the window.

But slowly, the house began to come alive in new ways.

Vi showed her how to make pancakes in the morning, even letting her flip one—badly—which left batter splattered on the stove and Ivy in a fit of giggles. You turned laundry folding into a game, a sock-matching race that ended in shrieks of laughter more than clean piles. Every night, Ivy asked for the same bedtime story—the one about the brave knight and the dragon who became her friend.

Then one sunny Saturday, it was time for her to meet the family.

Vi had tried to prepare her. “They’re loud, and they’ll probably bring too many snacks and too many hugs—but they mean well. I promise.”

Ivy clung to your hand as Vander’s booming voice echoed through the house before he’d even stepped inside.

“Is the little one here? Where’s my new tea party partner?”

Vi opened the door, and there he was—massive as ever, with arms wide and a teddy bear the size of a small dog slung over one shoulder. He bent down, eyes gentle behind his tough exterior, and offered Ivy a warm smile. “Hi there, kiddo. I’m Vander.”

Ivy blinked up at him, wide-eyed, then slowly reached out and took the bear, hugging it tightly to her chest. “Hi.”

“I can’t believe I’m a granddad” he said with a laugh, giving Vi a playful pat on the back.

Jinx was next, practically vibrating with excitement as she crouched in front of Ivy. “Okay, so here’s the deal: I brought glitter, stickers, and I know how to make slime that explodes.”

“She’s joking,” Vi quickly interjected, shooting her sister a look.

“Mostly joking,” Jinx whispered with a wink, making Ivy giggle behind the bear.

Claggor, Mylo, and Ekko arrived not long after, each carrying something they claimed Ivy had to have—a toy, a book, a plushie, a puzzle. Claggor offered to help build a blanket fort out of the couch cushions. Mylo challenged her to a card game he swore he never loses. Ekko knelt beside her and offered a tiny wind-up bird he’d fixed himself, its delicate wings fluttering as it chirped.

But soon, you noticed Ivy starting to withdraw—her shoulders tensing, her voice shrinking to a whisper. You knelt beside her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Too much?”

She gave a small nod.

You gently lifted her into your arms and carried her into the kitchen. “Alright, how about a little break? Just us. We’ll go back in when you’re ready.”

There, you let her help you with the cake batter while she told you a story about a dragon and a pink-haired knight with powerful gauntlets. Vi peeked in a few minutes later, leaning on the doorframe with a smile.

“Hey, baby. Everything okay in here?” she asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you poured the batter into the pan.

“Yes,” you said, glancing at Ivy, who was sitting on the counter with flour on her nose. “She was just telling me a story. Apparently there’s a brave pink-haired knight who slayed a dragon today.”

Vi grinned. “Oh? Sounds like she’s got good taste. That knight sounds very strong.”

Ivy giggled, hiding her face in her hands.

A few minutes later, your parents arrived—quieter than the rest, but just as full of love. Your mom handed Ivy a hand-knit blanket, soft yellow with tiny green daisies embroidered into the fabric. Your dad offered her a small photo album filled with baby pictures of you and Vi—chubby cheeks, missing teeth, wild hair. Ivy flipped through it slowly, like it was a rare treasure.

That evening, the house was full of warmth and laughter. Ivy was now sitting between Jinx and Ekko with her new blanket draped over her shoulders like a cape. Her plastic crown was a little crooked, and she sipped from a juice box with a smile tugging at her lips.

You watched her from across the room, tucked into Vi’s side.

“She’s getting comfortable,” you whispered.

Vi’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you close. “She’s starting to believe this is home.”

You glanced back at Ivy, watching her laugh at something Mylo said, watching her curl up again with her oversized bear and the photo album tucked at her side.

And in that moment, you felt something settle inside you.

You felt whole.

──────────────────────

You and Vi were certain—Ivy was your daughter. There was no hesitation in your hearts. So the very next morning, after your family’s visit, you rushed to your office, pulled a few strings, and quietly set the official adoption paperwork in motion. No more waiting. No more what-ifs. You were ready.

In the days that followed, Ivy blossomed in your home. She had started settling in, becoming more comfortable in the little routines you and Vi had built just for her. She raced Vi to the kitchen every morning, always insisting she had won—even when Vi clearly let her. She claimed the reading nook as her personal throne, often found there with a book in her lap and her bunny tucked under one arm. And twice now, she had asked you to braid her hair before bed. Small moments. Beautiful ones.

The routine you had once feared would be shattered by change had, instead, reshaped itself around Ivy like it had been waiting for her all along.

One quiet evening, the three of you were in the living room. Vi sat cross-legged on the rug, helping Ivy piece together the glittery unicorn puzzle Jinx had given her, while you curled up on the couch nearby, flipping absentmindedly through a book. The fireplace crackled softly, casting warm amber light across the room and filling it with the scent of burning pine.

“I think this one goes here,” Vi said, nudging a piece toward Ivy with a smile.

Ivy took it with a little frown of concentration, studying the image before carefully pressing it into place. “Got it!” she chirped, beaming at Vi.

Vi held up her hand for a high-five. “Told you—you’re a puzzle master.”

Ivy giggled and gave her a victorious high five, then glanced over her shoulder at you, her voice soft, almost offhanded but sure.

“Mommy, look. I did the sky part.”

You froze, breath catching in your throat. Mommy. The word floated through the room settling over your heart and wrapping around it.

Vi’s eyes shot to yours, wide with awe—but you weren’t crying. Not yet. Instead, you were smiling, your lips trembling just slightly, your eyes shining with emotion.

You slid off the couch and knelt beside Ivy, placing your hand over hers, grounding the moment. “You did such a good job, Ivy,” you whispered.

She leaned into your side immediately, tucking her small head under your chin. You held her close, feeling the warmth of her body, the steady beat of her little heart—and something shifted inside you. That trust. That love. It had all found its way home.

Vi moved behind you, resting a hand on your back, her thumb brushing in slow circles as the three of you sat together in the flickering light.

No one spoke for a while. There was no need to. The moment said enough.

Later that night, after Ivy had drifted to sleep—her bunny in one arm, your mother’s daisy-covered blanket draped over her—you and Vi stood quietly in the doorway, watching her breathe.

“She called you Mom,” Vi whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I told you… you had nothing to worry about.”

You smiled, eyes never leaving Ivy’s peaceful form. “Yeah. And you’re always right.”

Vi chuckled softly, then wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. You leaned into her, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. The kind that said everything you couldn’t find the words for.

──────────────────────

It happened a week after Ivy started school, a week after you signed the official adoption papers.

She had been so excited at first—Jinx had come over and helped her decorate her tiny backpack with glittery patches, and you packed her lunchbox with all her favorites.

You and Vi had walked her to the school gates, knelt beside her, kissed her cheeks, and sent her off with whispered encouragements and bright smiles.

But the glow didn’t last.

By the third day, Ivy was quieter when she came home. She didn’t want to talk much. Said school was “fine,” but her eyes were distant. You and Vi didn’t push her. You gave her space, made her favorite dinner, read her favorite story at bedtime.

But something was wrong, she wanted to stay awake until she physically couldn’t keep her eyes open, you would lay next to her, trying to make her fall asleep, but she would battle until the last second.

Then, one night, she had a nightmare.

You both woke up to the sound of her cries—raw, terrified. Vi was out of bed in seconds, tearing down the hallway barefoot. You followed close behind, heart pounding.

When Vi opened Ivy’s bedroom door, she found her curled in a ball under the blanket, shaking, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Her little bunny had fallen to the floor, the daisy blanket tangled around her legs.

Vi dropped to her knees at the bedside. “Hey, hey, baby,” she whispered, voice gentle but steady. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Ivy looked up at her through tears, lips trembling. She launched forward into Vi’s arms, clutching her like the world was ending. “Don’t let them take me back,” she sobbed. “Please don’t let them take me away.”

Vi wrapped her arms around her tightly, protectively. “No one’s taking you anywhere,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re staying right here, with us. I promise.”

Ivy buried her face in Vi’s shoulder, and in a choked, broken voice, she whispered, “I had a dream they took me away… and I couldn’t find you. I kept calling for you, but you weren’t there.”

Vi rocked her gently, her jaw clenched tight. “I’m always here, Ivy. I will always find you. You’re safe now. You’re home.”

And then, so soft it could’ve been a dream itself, Ivy said, “I knew you’d come, Mom. You’re my pink-haired knight. You always come when I’m scared.”

Vi’s heart broke and mended all at once. She kissed her forehead, holding her tighter than ever. “Damn right I do,” she said, voice cracking. “You’re mine, Ivy. Forever.”

You leaned quietly at the doorway, watching them from the shadows, hand pressed to your heart. Vi looked up at you, her eyes shining with everything she couldn’t say, and you simply nodded. You felt it too.

That night, you brought Ivy into your bed. She slept curled between you both, safe and warm, her little hand clasped in Vi’s the whole time.

And in the morning, she woke with a smile.

The fear wasn’t gone completely—but now, she knew that even in the dark, even in her worst dreams, her knight would come for her. Her Mom would always come for her.

──────────────────────

masterlist - part two

end notes: i don’t know how the system works in other countries so i went mostly with what i’ve seen on tv and what happens in my own country, so yeah!! if anything is wrong pretend it’s not 😛

[gukcnt]

VELVET WAVES — jjk (m.)

“you’re my baby” he whispers, “my sweet girl. I’m fucking obsessed with you—your laugh, the way you blush and the way you say my name like it’s a goddam prayer”

pairing — husband dom!jungkook x wife sub!femreader

genre — established relationship, slice of life, domestic vibes, maldives vacation, married life, romance, smut, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, slowburn sex, emotional and possessive love and intimacy, he is literally so obsessed with her and loves spoiling her, oral sex (f. receiving), breast play, nipple play and sucking, breast worship, making out, hickies/marking, body worship, bruising, scratching, slight pain play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary position, several orgasms, pussy inspection, fingering, clit stimulation, cum swallowing, eating out, face sitting, face riding, tongue fucking, man handling, hair fisting, dirty talk, praise kink, rough and slow paced sex, emotional sex, overstimulation, crying from pleasure, softest aftercare

wc — 3.2k

m. list

────୨ৎ────

The private jet descended towards Maldives as you pressed your forehead against the window, fingers twisting your dress nervously. Jungkook, your husband of two years, beside you, his presence filling the space—broad shoulders and dark hair falling over his piercing eyes. He caught you being anxious and his gaze sharpened. He reached for your hand, calloused hand enveloping yours with a warmth that grounded you

“sweetheart” he murmured, voice deep, with that dominant edge always sent a shiver through you

“no worrying, this is our escape” his thumb lightly caressed your knuckles. You managed a small smile, your cheeks warmed as his eyes held yours in that intense way like he can see everything going through your mind.

۶ৎ

The air in Maldives was heavy with the smell of salt and a faint sweetness, sand feeling warm beneath your sandals, the oceans constant wave a peaceful noise. Jungkook had went through every detail before you guys arrived here, and booked a private villa. The villa was a masterpiece, polished floors and sleek furniture’s, the glass revealed the beautiful view of the beach. The bed was wrapped in a thin curtain that swayed in motion with the breeze. You stood by the window; your body clad in a sundress and you inhaled the fresh air. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, chest solid against your back.

“like it baby?” he whispered, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers brushed your hips with a possessive intimate grip, claiming you. You nodded as you leaned against him, his presence and scent making you feel safe.

“it feels so magical” you murmured softly, “its perfect ggukie”. He chuckled softly, a rumble that vibrated through you, so deep and rich.

“only the best for my girl” his arms tightened around you, a promise of him—that expressed his fierce and tender love for you

۶ৎ

The first day of the vacation started. Breakfast was ripe mangoes, croissants and champagne. After breakfast you sat cross legged on a cushioned chair by the beach, enjoying the sun. Your hair was loose as it swayed due to the breeze. Jungkook watched you, his gaze heavy watching the way your lips closed around a slice of papaya, the juice glistening on your lips and dripping on your chin. His eyes darkened, a silent hunger in them that made your pulse quicken.

After breakfast, he insisted to visit the resorts store with you, it was full of luxury, with expensive dresses and jewelry. You trailed your hands over a rack of gowns but hesitated at the price tags. Jungkook unbothered, selected a dress for you that clung to your curves, it was revealing enough with a low-cut neckline, making you blush. He also added shiny earrings and an anklet made of seashell charms

“Jungkook, this is too much” you said, your voice small and unsure, “I don’t need all this”

His expression shifted immediately, his eyes narrowing as a frown etched his features. He stepped closer with his towering frame and cupped your cheek, tilting your face to meet his gaze, your heart thudding, lips parted

“sweetheart” he said firmly, voice laced with a warmth that dimmed this commanding tone

“I love spoiling you. Don’t ever take that from me” he rasped, his thumb brushed over your lower lip, causing your breath to catch, his intense eyes making your knees weak

“you are my wife, my baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me”

You nodded with a racing heart, your cheeks pinking and he lets out a hum of approval, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “good girl” he murmured, the words sending a tremor through you, an ache between your legs just from his words

By the time you left, your arms were heavy with bags and Jungkook’s smile was wide and satisfied, his hand rested on the small of your back in a possessive and claiming grip as he guided you out the store

۶ৎ

You both decided to swim, Jungkook made sure it was only the two of you in the secluded area, as always spoiling you. The sand felt warm and tingly under your feet; the water crystal clear. You had chosen a white flimsy bikini and its fabric was thin and daring. You stepped onto the beach, feeling self-conscious because of how revealing it was. The top barely containing the swell of your soft full breasts, your nipples hardened against the damp fabric, their outline visible. The panty hinted at the shape of your pussy beneath. You tugged at the straps, your heart pounding. Even though there was no one in the beach expect Jungkook, you still felt a bit uncomfortable, not used to being this exposed but Jungkook’s reaction stopped you

His dark eyes scanned you from top to bottom, his jaw tightened, “fuck baby” he growled, closing the distance between you both with two long strides, his hands gripping your waist with a grip that made you shiver

“look at you… so fucking unreal” his fingers skimmed the sensitive skin of your cleavage and you gasped, the simple touch sending a spark straight to your core

“I’m so jealous of how this hugs your curve, when I should be the one doing it” he said lowly, your breasts rose and fell with pants from his words, his eyes locked on them, almost hypnotized

“your tits…” his thumb grazed your nipple through the fabric, and you let out a gasp, arching into him. Your hand falling on his bare chest to steady yourself, your legs going weak

“and this” he continued, his hand sliding over your bare back, before he cups your pussy mound over the bikini. You gasped out his name as you trembled, “shows me exactly what’s mine”

“ggukie” you whispered your voice shaky with embarrassment, slick pooling between your legs. He smirked, leaning down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue tanging with yours, the taste of salt and him overwhelming you as you gripped onto his shoulder, your breasts on his hard chest

“don’t hide sweetheart” he grunts against your mouth, he breathes hotly against your parted lips, “you are so fucking gorgeous and I wanna see all of you”

He carried you towards the beach and the water was cool and warm against your skin. Jungkook held you close, his arms strong and unyielding, your legs wrapped around his waist as you floated together. The moment was peaceful, you both remained quiet, savoring the feel of each other intertwined underneath the water.

His hands soon started roaming all over your body, slipping beneath the water to cup your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples through the bikini, the wet fabric making the touch even more intense as you let out a soft “hah” in the air

“god I love how sensitive you are” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. He pinched your nipples gently, rolling them between his fingers and you cried out “ggukie!”

His eyes darkened at the breathy call of his name, your legs tightening around his waist. His cock hard and pressing against your stomach

“that’s it baby, let me hear you” your moans—were his obsession, the way you whimpered along with those gasps, and the pleas of his name that spilled from your lips, “fuck your noises.. baby they drive me insane”

His words make yet another uncontrollable mewl to escape you, you ground against his swim trunks that held his erection instinctively, earning a low growl from him

“keep that up sweetheart and we won’t make it back to the villa” he warned but his hands never stopped as if he wanted to see how far you can go, teasing your nipples until your body was trembling. Your head tipped back against his shoulder

۶ৎ

Back in the villa, the air was thick with desire. The scent of salt lingered on your skin, mingling with the scent of your arousal. His touches rough as he guided you to the bed, the sheets cool against your heated skin

He stood before you shirtless, his muscles wet with a faint sheen of sweat, his eyes locked on yours as you looked at him, panting, the darkness of his gaze promising pleasure and so much more, making your heart race

“lie back, sweet girl” he commanded. You obeyed sinking into the plush blankets, your pulse wild. He knelt between your legs, his hands spreading your thighs, he took off your panties and you gasped trying to close your legs but he held you open, your strength nothing compared to him.

He gazed at your pussy, bare and glistening, the cool air brushed against your slick folds, making your clit throb

“ggukie, please” you whined, your voice trembling, your thighs twitching as his fingers pressed against the soft flesh, his eyes glinted darkly wanting to worship you

“don’t hide this from me baby” he uttered lowly, voice laced with authority “you are fucking perfect”

His fingers traced your folds, his touch featherlight and you gasped, hips bucking “mhmm” your pussy was swollen and slick, the scent of your arousal made Jungkook snarl

“so wet, so goddamn beautiful” he murmured, his thumb brushing your clit, the contact sending a shock through you “ahhmm gosh” you panted, your hand gripping the sheets

“look at this pretty pussy, made just for me” his words made you squirm, your shyness fading due to the heat and need in your core. He slid a finger inside you, the penetration slow making you utter a shaky moan as your walls fluttered around him, warm and tight

“fuck, you are so tight” he groaned and added a second finger, the slight burn mixing with pleasure making you let out a desperate sob

“please ggukie” your breathless desperation made his jaw clench. He curled his fingers, stroking that spot deep inside, you arched off the bed, a cry tearing from your throat as you fisted the sheets

“that’s it sweetheart, let go” he said, his voice rough, his eyes remained locked on your face as he drinks in your every reaction and noise. Your pleasure fueling him almost like he was the one experiencing it. His free hand palmed his cock through his swim pants, the hardness almost painful, his knuckles whitened from how hard he gripped himself

“you’re so fucking sexy like this, falling apart for me” his fingers moved faster, in and out, slicked with your arousal, the wet sounds mingled with your cries

The intensity peaked when he pulled you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle his face. Your cheeks burned, the position exposing you completely, but his hands were impatient and demanding, pulling you down until your dripping pussy hovered over his mouth. The heat of his breath teasing your sodden clit causing you to let out a mewl

“sit baby” he ordered, his voice firm, and the command send a fresh wave of arousal through you, “I want to taste every fucking inch of you”

You lowered yourself with a trembling gasp and parted lips, his tongue flicked out licking the entirety of your pussy, you cried out his name instantly, gripping the headboard for support. His groan vibrated through your pussy, the sensation making you shake

“fuck you taste like heaven” he growls, his hands gripping your hips, controlling your movements, encouraging you to move and grind harder on his tongue. He wants you to use his face, the way he wants you to. His tongue was relentless, lapping your folds, savoring the sweet taste of you

He teased your clit with quick flicks, your thighs quivering, your moans loud and unrestrained a keening “ohh nghh, ggukie” came out of your drooling mouth, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling, making him growl against your pussy

“grind on me baby” he urged, his lips brushing your clit, “use my face like a good needy girl, fuck it”

You obeyed, your hips rolling and the friction of his tongue against your clit was overwhelming, each flick of this tongue sending you closer to the edge. He plunged his tongue inside you, thick and hot, fucking your cunt with slow deep thrust, his mouth consuming you almost entirely as he drinks from you like a starved man. Tears pricked your eyes, the pleasure too intense that it bordered on pain, a sob breaking free, your body shaking. His other hand stroked his cock, your movements and noises driving him wild with need

“god, you are so fucking perfect” his voice muffled in your pussy, his lips slick with you. He sucked your clit gently, you gasp, almost lifting off his mouth but his demanding hands didn’t let you move, not even an inch, his fingers bruising as he forced you to ride his tongue, “no more, it’s too much, ggukie”

He acted like he didn’t hear you, kept going until your vision blurred and the coil tightened in your stomach. When you came, it was with a wail, your pussy pulsing against his mouth, your arousal coating his lips. You trembled, supported by his hands as he continued lapping at your release drawing out pained gasps from you, his hands soothing your trembling thighs

Jungkook laid you back, his patience running out, barely giving you time to breathe. He freed his cock, the sight stealing your breath—thick, veined, head flushed with need and precum. You felt a fresh rush of arousal, your pussy clenching around nothing at the thought of him inside you.

He kissed you first, his lips soft and demanding, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. He trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, suckinh gently leaving faint marks with the graze of his teeth. When he reached your breasts, he lingered, sucking your nipples until they were swollen and sensitive, each pull of his mouth and teeth drawing moans and whimpers from you, his cock twitched from your noises

“you are so fucking beautiful” he whispered, his voice thick with raw emotion, “my sweet girl, my everything”

He positioned himself between your legs, his cock brushing your entrance, the heat of it brushing your entrance, made you moan. Your hands clutched his shoulders, your hips bucking

“feel how much I want you” he growled, dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, coating himself. The slick sounds pinking your cheeks as you looked away, panting with warm cheeks

“ggukie please” you begged desperately, and he smiled. He leaned down to kiss you again roughly, his tongue tangling with yours, a fight he always wins

He pushed himself inside you slowly, making you cry out his name, “ggukiee”

The stretch burned deliciously, his heavy and thick cock filling you inch by ich, the sensation was overwhelming. Your pussy fluttered around him, warm and tight as you take him inside you fully

“oh mm fuck” you moaned, your nails pressed on his back leaving red trails and he groaned, a low primal sound

“god I love that” he growled, his eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the delicious the sting of your scratches, “mark me baby, show me I’m yours”

He moved slowly with deep thrusts, the wet sounds of him fucking you filled the room, mingling with your breathy and whiny moans

“you feel like fucking heaven” he said roughly, gripping your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts the way he wants to, making you feel like he is in control of your body as well, it made you even more aroused, if that was even possible. “so tight, so wet, all for me”

His dirty talk fueled your arousal more, you trembled and sharp “ohs” and “ahs” left your mouth with each thrust of his cock inside your pussy, his eyes remained on your face, memorizing all your reactions

“my perfect girl” his lips brushed your ear lobe, he bites it softly making you whimper, “you take my cock so well, like you were fucking made for it”

You sobbed, your back arching with your pussy clenching around him, being filled by him over and over again is pushing you closer

“that’s it baby, milk me, fuck” he grunts, his thrusts get faster and forceful, each one deep, he hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars

He worshiped your body like you were his goddess. He squeezed your bouncing breasts, his thumbs pinching your nipples until you were writing, the dual sensation too much for you. He left small marks all over your neck, marking you, while never stopping his relentless thrusts

Your sobs and moans grew louder and shaky, and it drove him wild, his cock twitching inside you. You both came together, your orgasm crashed through you hard, a wail tearing from your throat as you clung to him, sobbing, your nails digging into his skin. He grunts, filling you with spurts and spurts of his own release, his teeth biting your shoulder

“are you okay, my baby?” he asks, he gently pulls out of you, bringing you in his arms, you nod too tired to speak up, just enjoying his presence. Your pussy achy and throbbing, dripping with his release, but you felt so good

You rested on his chest, a small smile tucked on the corner of your lips; his heartbeat steady against your cheeks

۶ৎ

Aftercare has always been your favorite, with your husband. Jungkook cleaned you with a warm cloth gently, his touch felt soothing against your sensitive raw skin

The room was quiet, only the distant waves can be heard, and the sound of both of your breathing mingling together, the air still heavy with the smell of sex and salt. He kissed your forehead softly, lips lingering, your body tired but heart full

“Sweetheart” he hums, his voice soothing yet thick with emotion, “you’re my entire world you know that, don’t you?”

His fingers drew small patterns on your back, grounding you to him, his words making you shiver, “I would burn the whole world down to give you everything”

You whimpered at his words as you looked at him with glistening eyes, his love for you overwhelming, “ggukie you already give me everything”

“you make me feel so loved... so whole” you whispered, your own voice trembling with feeling

His eyes softened, a rare crack in his dominant facade, reserved just for you, he never lets anyone see him so vulnerable and open

“you’re my baby” he whispers, “my sweet girl. I’m fucking obsessed with you—your laugh, the way you blush and the way you say my name like it’s a goddam prayer”

He kissed you slow and deep, his lips hungry, proving all his devotion for you, “I will never stop wanting you, never stop needing you”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling overwhelmed, you traced the scratches you made on his back, your silent claim on him, “I love you” you murmured, breath fanning his chest, and he held you tighter, as if he never wants to let you go

۶ৎ

The next few days, the vacation passed like a dream neither one of you wanted to end, and it was filled with moments of comfort and connection. Each day brought something new—watching sunsets together, sharing dinners under night sky and small quite intimate moments. But that one night stood out the most, the sound of the waves in the background and the way he held you so completely, as if nothing else mattered. That moment forever etched into your heart, his love for you deeper than any ocean in the world.

[suskz]

Hold me tight, keep me close

pairing: Lee Felix x fem!Reader

t/w: fluff ; hurt/comfort ; smut ; period sex ; wet and messy ; piv sex ; fingering (f!rec) ; menstrual blood ; so much blood ; reader is on her period ; Felix is so sweet and caring ; unprotected sex (don’t do that, kids) ; coming inside.

w/c: 4.5k

a/n: sorry for the late post, guys! It took me longer than I expected 😭. But it’s finally here! I really love this one, because Felix is soo caring and just what I need rn (I’m on my period y’all 🥹). It’s 2am here, I’m gonna go sleep now. Enjoy!!

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a hand gently shaking your shoulder, then a voice calling your name.

“Y/n, love.” It’s your boyfriend’s voice— deep, but soft. You shift in place, intending to stretch, and that’s when you notice a strange sensation between your legs. It’s wet.

Your eyes snap open, and you don’t even have time to think about what it could be before you sit up in bed, forcing Felix to pull his hand back, and look at the… the crime scene.

Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration—most of the blood is in your pants and only a little made it onto the sheets, but still—you stained them.

Hesitantly, you turn your head toward your boyfriend. He lifts his eyes from the blood-stained sheets to meet yours, offering a small, reassuring smile that seems to hide a hint of uncertainty.

You feel mortified. You feel the urge to cry, but nothing comes out—not a tear, not a sob.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and his eyes immediately fill with concern.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, then seems to second-guess himself. “Is it okay?”

You lower your gaze and let him move closer, placing a hand on your thigh where the blood hasn’t reached, gently stroking it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would come today.” you apologize, shame washing over you.

“You couldn’t have known,” he says kindly. “It’s okay.”

“Felix, it’s disgusting, and these are your clothes— fuck,” your voice comes out cracked. “Look at the mess I made.” You lower your eyes to the red stain on the white sheet, “Doesn’t it gross you out?”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he frowns. “It doesn’t bother me, not even a little.” He cups your face in his hands and turns it so you’ll look at him. “It happens. It’s okay, it’s just laundry—nothing to worry about.”

You look into his eyes for a few seconds, searching for any sign of doubt, and nod at his words when you find none. He smiles softly.

“You go take a shower now,” he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “I’ll go buy you some pads, okay?”

You nod again. “Thank you,” you smile, grateful to have such a caring and understanding boyfriend. “Do you want me to show you a picture?”

“I’ve seen them so many times, I know exactly which ones they are by now.” He chuckles and you do too.

“Let’s clean this mess first—” you stop suddenly when a sharp pain hits your lower stomach and you feel warm liquid soaking through your underwear —and probably reaching the bed— eliciting a muffled groan. “No, never mind, let’s do it later.”

He watches you shift around, trying to ease the pain, feeling bad seeing you in discomfort. “No, I’ll do it. Don’t worry. I can also get the painkillers you use.”

“No, it’s okay. I can handle it until I get home.”

You don’t know why you say it, because honestly, it feels like you can’t even stand another half hour.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry.”

He nods.

But when you step out of the shower, you still find the pills on the sink —right next to some pads and clean clothes— and his thoughtfulness melts your heart.

When you leave the bathroom, he’s just finishing making the bed. He looks up at you and gives you a tender smile, a touch of pride in his eyes at the sight of you wearing his clothes.

You huff a quiet chuckle. “You know I could’ve just put on what I wore yesterday, right?”

His cheeks tint with a soft, almost imperceptible blush. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted to see you in mine. You look cute.” He smiles sweetly.

Then he comes over, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug and pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, in comforting silence.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time, but he shakes his head.

“No more of that. I already told you—it’s all okay. The bed’s clean, and I can always get new clothes. See? No big deal.”

You hum and snuggle a little closer to him.

“I love you,” he says suddenly, his ears turning a little red at the words he’s still not quite used to saying.

You look up at him, a little surprised but happy to hear it. “I love you too,” you reply, your face flushed. He gives you a soft peck on the lips, and the two of you just look at each other for a while.

But that quiet moment is cut short by a sudden noise.

Your face burns with embarrassment, your ears flaming as you hide in his chest.

Felix’s laughter only makes it worse.

“Hungry?”

“What do you think? I haven’t had breakfast yet.” You mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt, trying to hide your embarrassment behind a normal tone.

“Pancakes?” he suggests.

Your eyes light up at the suggestion, and you look up at him with the expression of a delighted child.

“Yes, please!”

He laughs at your eagerness and how adorable you are.

—

“Do you feel like going out with the guys? We can go another time if you’d rather.”

You and Felix are cuddled up on the couch watching TV. Your back rests against his chest, one of his hands gently stroking your stomach, while the other holds you close.

How could you say no to him? You made these plans a week ago, and you don’t want to cancel last minute just because your period started and you’re not at your best. You still look presentable, and both of you had really been looking forward to this hangout with the guys.

“No, I’m fine. I still want to go.”

Felix nods at your response. “I’ll be at your place by 3.”

And he is. You’d gone back home after lunch to get ready, and Felix came to pick you up—though not before having to wait an extra 10 minutes for you, as usual.

Now you’re at a bar with Felix, the rest of the members, and Chan’s girlfriend, whom you’ve recently grown close to.

“You should’ve seen Minho’s face when that little girl called him ‘dad.’ It was hilarious,” Seungmin grins, amused by the memory, and everyone bursts out laughing—everyone except Minho.

“I can totally picture it,” Hyunjin laughs.

“Do you really want to end up in the air fryer, Hyunjin?” Minho threatens, and Hyunjin instantly stops laughing, glancing around nervously.

“Is it because you feel old now that a kid mistook you for her dad?” you tease with a smirk. You’re one of the few people who can get away with it—just like Minho has a soft spot for Felix, he has one for you too.

Felix’s arm is wrapped around your waist, his fingers gently stroking your side as he laughs at your comment—and at the tongue Minho sticks out at you in return.

A little while later, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve had the pad on for a few hours now, and you definitely need to change it.

The restroom has three sinks and two stalls—one for men and one for women.

You stop in front of the mirror first, checking your appearance and simply taking a moment to look at yourself. Then, suddenly, a sharp cramp hits you, making you double over with your hands on your lower belly.

You should’ve brought your painkillers with you.

You huff in frustration and rest your hands on the sink, leaning on one leg. That’s when it happens. Warm liquid begins to run down your leg—your position caused your pad to shift.

Caught off guard, you straighten up, trying to keep your baggy pants from touching your thigh.

Damn these white pants. You knew you should’ve worn black jeans.

But as you head into the women’s stall, it’s impossible to keep them from getting stained. That clean white fabric turns into a dreadful shade of red.

When you pull them down and sit on the toilet, you see the full mess you’ve made on your thigh and pants, and tears begin to blur your vision. There hasn’t been a single thing today that your period hasn’t ruined.

You should’ve stayed home.

A sob catches in your throat.

You don’t know how much time has passed, but apparently, you’ve been gone a little too long, because Felix walks into the restroom, looking for you.

You try to stop crying and settle enough to answer him, but when a heavy sob escapes your throat, the tears start flowing down your cheeks again.

“Y/nie?” your boyfriend calls out, approaching the stall you’re in. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You don’t answer.

“Can you open the door for me?”

Still no response—but your sobs slowly quiet down until they stop, and finally, the door clicks open.

Since it’s just the two of you in the restroom, he opens it just enough to see you but doesn’t step in, wanting to give you space. Still, it’s so hard for him to stand there, seeing your tear-streaked face and the way your bottom lip is quivering.

“Sunshine, what’s going on?” His voice is deep but soft—reassuring.

The words die in your throat, so you lower your eyes to your pants—and he understands. You’ve already tried to clean your thigh the best you could, but there’s still some red left.

“Is that the reason? Baby, it’s okay. It happens. Nothing we can’t fix.” He offers you a gentle smile—but is surprised when fresh tears start falling down your cheeks again.

That’s when he quickly steps inside, shuts the door behind him, and kneels in front of you. His hands cup your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears—and in that moment, you’re so thankful he’s your boyfriend. He presses a soothing kiss to your forehead.

“I-I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you say, your voice cracking. “It’s just…” you sniffle, and he waits patiently, nodding. “It’s the second time today, and it’s ruining everything. And now I’ve got stained pants and all this pain, and I didn’t even bring my pills with me. I ruined the hangout, and I’m afraid I’m bothering you too.”

“You’re not annoying me—you never could. Don’t even think that, okay?” he reassures you. “I’m sorry you’re having such a hard day, love. I get how you feel, and I hate that it’s going like this. I wish I could take some of the pain away so you wouldn’t have to feel this bad.”

He places a hand on your stomach, gently stroking it, a small pout on his lips. “Is it hurting a lot?”

You nod, sniffling. There’s a dull, radiating ache that reaches down into your thighs, making it feel like they’ve been split in half. You just want to go home.

“But I can still help make your day better,” he says with a soft smile. “Let’s go back to my place and cuddle in bed. How does that sound?” he asks sweetly, and you nod, closing your eyes for a moment and leaning into his gentle touch.

“Good. No more tears now, okay? It’s going to be okay. I’m here with you.” He gives your thigh a comforting squeeze to reassure you.

Afterward, he leaves you some privacy to finish cleaning up, waiting just outside your stall. When you come out, he offers you his hoodie to tie around your waist and cover the large red stain on your pants. Then the two of you return to the others, just to say goodbye before leaving together.

At his place, you find yourself in the shower for the second time today, while he prepares a cozy spot for the two of you to spend the rest of the afternoon cuddling.

He also quietly slips into the bathroom to leave you some fresh clothes. When you get out of the shower and see them, you almost start crying again because of how thoughtful and loving he is. Out of all his clothes, he picked your favorites: a pair of soft gray sweatpants you always wear when you’re at his place, and a worn-out white shirt you often wear when you snuggle, especially after sex. There’s also a black hoodie that’s way too big on you —which is exactly why you love it— and a pair of fluffy blue socks.

When you leave the bathroom, he’s already waiting for you on the bed, and you immediately throw yourself into his arms. You stay like that for so long you lose track of the minutes—or the hours. You could stay like this for days without ever getting tired of it.

One of his hands gently rubs circles on your back while you absentmindedly scratch his arm with your nails.

“Feeling better now?”

You hum. “Yeah, much better.”

There’s a cartoon playing softly on the TV in his room, and outside, the occasional sound of cars passes by. Everything is so calm and peaceful, you don’t want to get out of bed for at least a few more days, or months—or maybe ever.

But of course, things can’t stay perfect. You let out a whine when a sharp cramp tears through your lower belly, making you squirm, your face contorting in pain. Felix coos and places a hand over the spot that hurts, tracing soothing little circles.

Damn your body.

Felix leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, then your lips—once, then again, and again. You’re not even sure how you ended up with your back on the bed and him hovering over you, but it doesn’t really matter.

He starts leaving sensual kisses down the side of your neck, trailing lower until he reaches the hem of the hoodie you’re wearing.

Then his lips brush against your ear.

“You know, I heard orgasms help with period cramps.”

He bites your earlobe gently.

“Wanna give it a try?”

Then he licks and sucks it. He doesn’t give you time to answer before his lips crash onto yours again. Both of his hands slip under your hoodie and T-shirt, finding your hot skin.

“Please, baby? I really need you,” he says softly, needily.

But he quickly notices your hesitation and pulls his hands out from under your clothes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you admit, avoiding eye contact. “It’s just… we’ve never done it while I was on my period, and I’m scared the blood might gross you out.”

But he gently takes your chin and lifts your face to look at him.

“Baby, I’m not a kid. A little blood doesn’t scare me,” he says confidently. “And it definitely doesn’t gross me out—especially when it’s from you.”

You smile, then nod. “Okay, then I want to.”

He gives you a kiss on the lips before getting up to grab a towel, which he lays under you to avoid a mess neither of you will want to clean up later.

You undress each other quickly, down to just your underwear. He kisses your stomach, just below your belly button, while his fingers toy with the waistband of the boxers —his boxers— you’re wearing. “Can I?” he asks, checking that you haven’t changed your mind, and you answer with a quiet, “Yes.”

He pulls your underwear off quickly and tosses them to the floor like he always does—only this time, they hit the floor with a weird thud because of the pad, making you cringe.

His fingers move skillfully between your folds, teasing you before slipping two inside, making you gasp—and he lets out a low groan. His fingers might be short, but they hit that sweet spot just right, and he knows exactly how to work it, making your hips buck against his hand in pleasure.

He adds a third finger. “Feels good, baby? You like my fingers inside you?”

You nod quickly. “Yes,” you moan.

You try not to focus on the squelching sound, aware that it’s louder because of the blood. You don’t even dare to look down, afraid of seeing his fingers stained red or the mess probably already soaking into the towel.

“Felix, can you— please touch my clit too?” you ask, voice soft and shaky.

He smiles, clearly happy you’re telling him explicitly what you want. And he’d be lying if he said seeing your innocent face and hearing that shy little request didn’t make his cock twitch.

He lets a string of spit fall from his mouth onto your pussy, collecting it with the thumb of his free hand and bringing it right to your clit. He rubs in slow circles —side to side, up and down— knowing exactly how you like it.

“Good girl… just keep telling me what you want, yeah?”

“Can- can you…” You gesture toward your tits, and he gets it, chuckling.

“Wanna feel my mouth on these pretty nipples?” You nod, and he doesn’t waste a second—licking and sucking just the way that has you writhing under him.

Your eyes roll back and you let out breathy, broken moans, completely overwhelmed by how good it all feels—by all the attention he’s giving your body.

He pulls back for a moment. “Gonna make you cum on my fingers first—then I’m gonna fuck you nice and deep.”

And just like that, he picks up right where he left off.

Felix is so hard in his underwear he thinks he’s going to lose his mind if his cock doesn’t get touched soon. He tries to grind against the bed, but it’s difficult from his current position. So instead, he finds your leg and starts grinding against it, moaning around your nipple.

When you realize what your boyfriend is doing, you feel even closer to the edge. He’s really getting off on hearing and watching you fall apart.

“Lix, I’m close. I’m so close—”

His fingers move faster, both inside you and over your puffy clit, and within seconds you’re coming on his hands, rolling your hips against his fingers as he keeps moving to help you ride out your orgasm.

When the intense wave fades, your hips collapse onto the bed. His touch leaves you for a moment as he wipes his fingers clean, then he’s back—kissing your lips, your nose, your forehead like he can’t stop touching you.

His hips have also stopped rutting against your leg.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his deep voice soothing.

“Really good. Felt good,” you murmur in response. He intertwines his fingers with yours as you start sharing soft, chaste kisses. You both smile into them, and at one point, you even huff a quiet laugh through your nose.

“It turned me on, seeing you grind against my leg,” you say after a little while, placing your free hand on his cheek, then slowly sliding it down toward his chest.

“Yeah?” he says with a smirk, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him. “Watching you feel that good made me so hard I couldn’t wait anymore. But it still hurts…” He takes your hand and, locking eyes with you, guides it slowly down to where he’s hard beneath the fabric. His breath hitches the second your palm presses against him.

You start stroking him slowly. Eventually, your hand slips inside his boxers to feel him bare, and you pull him out, stroking him gently from base to tip, giving a slight squeeze at the head that draws a strangled moan from him.

“You’re so hard, Felix,” you whisper against his lips. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“Yes, please,” he breathes, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Then why are you holding back? Fuck me like you mean it.” You squeeze his cock a little harder before letting go. Every trace of shyness is gone now, replaced by something bolder, now that it’s not just sweet and loving and all about you.

Felix whimpers involuntarily. He’d used every ounce of self-control not to bury himself inside you the moment you came. He didn’t want to overstimulate you and wanted to give you time to recover, but apparently, that’s not what you want anymore.

“Gonna enter you now, okay?” he warns, lining his cock up with your entrance. One nod from you is all it takes, and he’s sliding in with a single thrust, letting out a guttural moan. “So wet ‘n tight f’ me…”

When he starts moving, he seems more sensitive than usual, judging by the breathy moans and gasps he lets out. His hips don’t settle into a steady rhythm—his thrusts are fast and shallow, showing just how needy he’s been this whole time.

His hands, planted on either side of your head, are clutching the sheets tight in his fists. One of your hands grabs his arm, sliding down until your fingers find his, and when he notices, he intertwines them with yours. He rests his forehead in the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath.

His thrusts grow longer and deeper—pushing all the way in, pulling out just barely, then slamming back inside with force.

When you bring a hand to his hair, he starts kissing and licking your neck, sometimes sucking on your skin hard enough to leave marks that’ll be hard to hide—though deep down, he hopes you’ll keep them.

Your soft, high-pitched moans are something he could listen to for days. Your whimpers make his cock twitch and leak inside you. Your teary eyes are so damn beautiful, he could stare at them forever.

When he pulls back to look at you, his breathing is uneven, and his moans sharper than before. He’s close.

But he’s holding back for you, because he wants to make you come on his cock first.

God, your boyfriend is so sweet.

You clench around him, and he shuts his eyes to focus.

“Don’t do that, or I’m gonna cum,” he begs, desperate.

“You can come, Lix, it’s okay,” you reassure him, but you know that won’t be enough to make him give in. “I want you to fill me up nice and deep. I’m ready to take everything you’ve got, want to be so full of you,” you continue, hitting a weak spot of his.

His orgasm hits him suddenly, his cock spurting ropes of hot cum deep inside you. He gives a few more thrusts to ride it out, then collapses on top of you.

“Not fair,” he pouts when he finally lifts himself up and looks at you.

“You said that on purpose ‘cause you knew it’d make me cum. I wanted to make you cum on my cock.”

How can someone sound and look so innocent while saying such filthy things?

You laugh. “Next time.”

He pulls out of you slowly, carefully.

“My girl’s gonna cum, whether it’s on my cock or on my fingers.”

This time, he spits on your pussy, even though it’s not needed—you’re already soaked from everything you’ve done. Two of his fingers find your clit again, red and puffy, moving in small circles that knock the air right out of your lungs.

Those same fingers suddenly dip down to your entrance, collecting some of the cum that’s leaking out, only to slap it onto your most sensitive spot. You gasp and clutch the sheets in your fists.

He starts rubbing again, only to slap your clit twice more. His other hand grabs your thigh firmly and presses it down against the bed, as if to force your legs open—even though there’s no need, since you’re already holding them wide for him.

“You’ve been a bad girl, making me come like that. That should’ve been my job,” he says, landing a harder slap. “Let this be a lesson so you’ll think twice next time.”

The sudden change in his behavior has your head spinning. His two fingers pinch your clit a couple of times before resuming fast, precise strokes.

“Felix—” you choke out. You want to warn him that you’re about to come, but your climax hits you too suddenly, tearing a very loud moan from your throat.

You black out for a moment, completely lost in sensation—and you’re grateful to come back to Felix kissing your neck sweetly and whispering soft praises.

You appreciate the affection he’s giving you, but you gently press your hands to his shoulders to push him back a little. “Lix, ‘m hot.”

He pulls back and lifts his head. “But I wanna cuddle,” he protests, nuzzling into the top of your chest and trying to kiss your skin there.

You sigh. “We will, but after a shower. I feel too sticky and gross right now.”

Felix nods and finally moves away. “I’ll go get the water ready,” he says, then gets up from the bed and heads to the bathroom—but not before bringing you a glass of water and some chocolate, which you accept with a kiss on the lips.

In the meantime, you finally glance down at the mess beneath you and scrunch your nose, wishing you hadn’t. You clean yourself up as best you can with the cleanest part of the towel, then grab it and make your way to the bathroom, tossing the towel into the laundry basket before joining your boyfriend.

You step into the shower together, and even though you told him you’d cuddle afterward, he spends the entire time touching and kissing you—if not on the lips, then everywhere else. His lips are soft, and his hands are gentle.

He shampoos your hair and massages your scalp delicately, and you do the same for him. His fingers slip inside you again, but this time it’s just to clean you up from his cum, as he murmurs apologies for the mess he made—not that he’s truly sorry, and you both know it.

When you get out of the shower, he lands a loud smack on your ass, making you gasp softly and slap his in return when he bends over to grab a pair of socks from the wardrobe drawer.

Once you’re both dressed and sitting on his bed, his arms wrap tightly around you, locking you in and pulling you close with no way out—not that you’d want to leave anyway.

You turn on the TV and find a comfortable position under the warm blankets.

Your back is pressed against his chest, which rises and falls slowly with his breath. One of his hands rests gently on your lower belly, stroking it softly.

“Feeling better now?”

“Yeah.” You snuggle even closer. “Much better.” You smile, resting your head on his shoulder with your face tucked into his neck. You press a small kiss to his skin before closing your eyes, soothed by his familiar, calming touch and the quiet sound of the TV still playing in the background.

You feel so loved and safe in his arms that there’s nothing to worry about when he’s with you—because you know he’ll always be there, ready to help you without judgment, staying by your side no matter what.

[scoobywrites690]

Simon who makes you ride his dick with no help when you misbehave

(Wrote this before passing out last night)

cw: Simon being a tease, mention of spanking, creampie, penetration

“Oh fuck yeah, fuckin’ bounce luvie” He growls. 

Your body slick with sweat as you desperately try to rock your hips on top of him. Thighs aching as you pull yourself up his thick cock just to slam yourself back down onto it.

“Si-ah, Si I can’t.” You whine, your voice hoarse as you cry out.

Simon had been making you bounce on top of him for a good hour now, all because you got a lil mouthy with him. Clearly it was enough in Simon’s eyes to have you bouncing up and down for hours without a break.

Your knees threatened to buckle with every pull of your hips, desperate to keep yourself moving. Your ass was already red and raw from all the times you did stop for more than a second, and you’d soon know it when you had. As the harsh slap of his massive hand colliding with the tender skin of your nice plump ass, would soon fill the room.

“I said fuckin’ bounce.” He gritted out, as he lay there on the bed without a care in the world, arms crossed behind his head as he watched the way you struggle.

His wandering eyes rake over your trembling body. The flushed tints in your skin from the constant battle of trying to keep your hips moving. The way the slick of your sweat has your body glistening when it catches the light.

As much as Simons punishes you, he himself just likes seeing you all on display, trembling and gasping for a break. And deep down he knows you like it too, otherwise he wouldn’t even think about doing it.

He knows you like being made to work for your own release, that you like his eyes wandering over you body as you struggle to keep it together, you like when his gaze gets caught on your perky little tits and how they bounce with each jerk of your body.

He knows you love it, and it’s why he does it.

Placing your hands firmly on Simon’s chest you use it to steady yourself before you’re pulling yourself up and down his fat fucking cock, every pull of your hips has your walls fluttering around him as you desperately work for the one thing you so desperately want.

“Atta girl, takin’ this cock nice and deep.” He mutters. “You gonna milk me dry, baby?” He coos.

“You gonna let me fuck you full of my cum?” He asks, already nodding his head as he knows your answer.

“Please, yes.” You pant, your body threatening to collapse as you finally come to a stop.

“Good girl, let me help you now, baby.” He says, placing his hands on your hips, digging his fingers into the fat of them. Giving himself a nice tight grip before dragging you up the length of his cock to then drop you back down.

Ramming his cock all the way in there, desperate to pump you full. As he rocks your body up and down his length, allowing your legs to catch a well needed break.

“Si-mhm Simon!” You can’t help but squeal. As he rams into your spongy walls, over and over and over again. From tip to base. Your poor pussy gushes around him as he drills into you, soaking him and the bed beneath you.

“Come on, luvie take it, that’s it fuckin’ take it.” He pants, his chest heaving as his thrust grows sloppy. His thighs tremble beneath you as he fucks up into you one last time.

His seed paints your walls as he pumps rope after rope of his white sticky cum deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

[hy6erion]

overstimulating trans viktor until he cries (and not stopping when he does) by eating his pussy and sucking his clit please 🙏

love your fics btw !!

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 (𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢), 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬! (𝐟𝐭𝐦) 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐠𝐧! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲... 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥.

He’s already trembling when you spread his thighs apart again, soft whines catching in his throat as his back arches against the sheets. His fingers twist tightly in the blanket, knuckles gone pale, and his eyes are glassy with tears he hasn’t even felt fall yet.

Viktor’s body is flushed and slick, pussy glistening from your mouth and his own dripping arousal and you haven’t given him even a second of real reprieve. You’ve just been eating him alive.

You glance up from between his thighs—his legs thrown wide open around your head, one calf quivering where it rests over your shoulder. He’s flushed all the way up to his neck, sweat beading at his collarbone, curls sticking to his temple. His chest rises in sharp, shallow breaths as his hips twitch under your hold, trying to grind back into your mouth even when it’s too much.

“P-please—”

The word comes out as a shattered whimper, high and thin. He’s not even sure what he’s asking for anymore. Your tongue licks another slow stripe through the soft folds of his cunt, and he shakes.

“You’re begging me now?” you murmur, lips dragging over his clit, swollen and stiff with how many times you’ve sucked on it. “Didn’t seem like you wanted mercy before.”

Viktor’s voice cracks, a desperate little sob escaping him when you suck on that tender bud again, your lips wrapped around it as your tongue flicks just under the hood. He jerks like he’s been shocked.

You don’t stop. You can’t. Not when he tastes this good, not when he’s this wet, not when his entire body is betraying him with how badly he wants more. His pussy is soaked—sweet and musky and so slick your chin’s dripping, your mouth wet with him, your nose pressed against the soft curls on his mound. And he keeps cumming, over and over, thighs squeezing tight around your head only to go limp seconds later.

You pull your mouth back only to breathe, and even that feels like cruelty.

His clit is flushed a dusky red, swollen between the folds of his puffy, fucked-out cunt. It’s practically throbbing with every pulse of his heartbeat. You hum as you gently part his lips with your fingers and press your tongue flat against his slit, lapping up every drop of slick from his leaking hole.

He cries out again—loud this time. Embarrassed. His thighs try to close, but you grip them tighter, holding him open with steady, patient strength.

“You’re making such a mess” you murmur between strokes of your tongue, mouthing at the trembling flesh around his opening. “Look at you. Wet little cunt just begging for more.”

“I-it’s too much, I— ahh—I c-can’t think—!”

“Good. Don’t think.” You lick up again, flick his clit once—twice—then suck it into your mouth.

His voice breaks into a sob. He screams through his teeth, whole body jolting like you’ve pulled the air from his lungs. His clit in your mouth twitches helplessly and the gush of slick you feel against your tongue tells you he’s cumming again, body going tight with the force of it.

Tears finally spill from the corners of his eyes.

You moan into him.

God, the sounds he makes—sweet, sobbing gasps, soft little ahh—ahh—ahh sounds like he’s stuck in the throes of a fit, completely at your mercy. His pretty hips keep twitching, pussy grinding against your face despite how overstimulated he is.

His poor, messy hole keeps fluttering like it doesn’t know what it wants—pull away, or be filled. You’re so tempted to fuck him open with your fingers while you suck on his clit like this, tease him from both ends, make him cry even harder. But there’s something perfect about the way he falls apart just from your mouth.

“Such a good boy,” you murmur, voice low and sticky against his drenched folds. “You’re taking it so well. Crying so sweet for me.”

He whimpers something you can’t quite understand—might’ve been “no more,” might’ve been “don’t stop”—but either way, you don’t. You slip your tongue down to his hole again, thrusting in this time, slowly fucking his cunt open with the muscle of your tongue.

He lets out a strangled moan, sobbing wetly as he bucks against you, cunt clenching around the soft, warm pressure of your mouth.

“Please, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

You curl your arms under his thighs, lock your hands over his hips, and hold him there. Your tongue keeps working in his pulsing cunt while your lips drag back to that poor clit, all swollen and aching. You suck hard. Viktor’s whole body arches off the bed with a scream.

And he cums again.

His whole body spasms violently, tears dripping from his lashes as he convulses in your grip, messy cunt squirting against your chin. His voice breaks on a sob, caught between pleasure and pain, between surrender and begging for more.

“Oh—god—oh fuck—” he gasps, words slurring like he’s drunk on you. “I—it’s t-too—I can’t—”

You lift your mouth only long enough to say:

“Yes, you can.”

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s May ficrec Mayhem.

Hi everyone, hoo-boy what a month. Talk about the epic lows and epic highs. One thing that doesn't change is how much incredible talent there is in this fandom, so I'm back with another round of fic that I've read and loved over the last month. Lots of processing emotions via fic being done here, so spoilers for the season below including mcd and grief.

As always you can find previous rec lists here.

10 May 2025

this must be the place by @becausebuckley with couch theory and domestic dawning roommates era buddie, this is them navigating what to keep and how (and why) they're combining their lives and their living space. Lovely character study and exploration of thematic motifs.

sing to me instead by @putanauhere written after 8x15, in which Eddie receives a phonecall and doesn't believe it at first, he and Chris return to LA, and Buck helps them buy Chris a suit for the funeral. Emotions run high whilst they try and hold it together, Eddie feels disconnected from the firefam and Buck feels disconnected from his body. Really fantastic team dynamics here, and the splintered processing of grief manifesting in a myriad of ways.

slow dancing on landmines by @glorious-spoon written after 8x16, this is Buck and Eddie grief sex fic, in which Eddie runs shortly after to avoid the conversations needed to be had. Beautifully written and achingly tender, it's messy and complicated feelings in all their glory.

The Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by @ponyregrets a Chris POV 8x15 coda, in which Buck calls Eddie to tell him about Bobby, and Chris contemplates a poem that speaks to him. Really lovely strong Chris voice, and a Chris and Harry exchange that made me cry.

they're back in the same house as if it's my fault.... by @fastcardotmp3 a short 600 word coda to 8x17 with a gorgeously rendered conversation between Buck and Chris, continuing on from their I'm sorry about Bobby discussion, and touching on their own dynamic.

8x17 coda by @chronicowboy deep in the crunchy feelings, after their fight, Eddie calls Chris from the couch. I love how this one explores Eddie actively trying to change his previous habits in his openness with Chris, and how Chris reads him and Buck so well.

tragedy & rage & grief by @ghostlandtoo Eddie and Chris have stayed in LA post 8x17 and Buck's glad but also...he's not coping well, and with he and Eddie sharing a bed, there's no private release for his grief. Eddie sees him, and they talk...and find a way to deal together. Hard and full of big messy feelings, the grief and release of this one really felt cathartic through the hurt.

i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine by @redrosydiaz adorable Jee fic! Jee Yun is making Valentine's day cards for all the firefam and Eddie is very touched to see she's written hers to Uncle Eddie...isn't it cute? But of course...only Buck is the other 'Uncle' she's mentioned, the rest of the firefam are all just their names. Wherever could she have gotten that idea?

sweetness follows by @pairofraggedclaws in which it's Eddie's first day back at the 118 and Buck and Eddie figure it out, through the eyes of Bobby, Hen and Chim. This is a breath of fresh air for anyone needing team banter, teasing and love. A wonderful farcical they don't know that we know they know we know story.

then you'll feel that you want me (the way i want you) by PrinceLix GOOD GOD. THEEEEE Buck's Eddie in latex gloves kink fic to end all fics. A must read for anyone who's ever gone cross-eyed at the sight of Ryan's gigantic paws lol. But beautifully written, sizzlingly erotic, and guaranteed to get you blushing especially if you're reading on public transport whoops. Despite Buck's best efforts, Eddie clocks what's going on and comes up with a plan to get Buck to fold, it goes splendidly.

featherlight by @coldbam - in which coldbam is struck by Apollo's Dodgeball for Ryan's hummingbird Disney Prince moment, by writing this sweet as all get out hobbyist birder Eddie fic! Buck encourages Eddie with his new hobby whilst he's in El Paso, downloading an app so he can identify the birds stopping by his garden. So so lovely and gentle. I just wanted to chinhands at them both.

once more, with feeling by @spaceshipkat in which Eddie gets a sixth sense that something's not right as he and Chris drive home supposedly to meet Buck for their happy reunion. When they get their the house is empty, and something isn't right...Eddie spirals, but works to get Buck back from whomever has taken him. A real nailbiter with some super intriguing dynamics, and clever sleuthing.

to have and to hold (platonically and heterosexually) by @littlefreakbuckley in which Buck's solution to Eddie losing health insurance in his move to El Paso is for them to get married for the benefits, and it turns out they both REALLY like being each other's husband....even if Eddie's straight and this is totally platonic, of course. Delicious tropey fun.

Okay until next time!! Can't believe we just have one more episode left? If you're in need of more recs, I also regularly reblog codas from 8b and fics as I read them, to be found in my usual daily ficrec tag.

[pursuitseternal]

“Pampered, Beloved”

Subtitle: What I wish I had for Mothers’ Day

Gale x f!Reader | E | 2.2K

Summary: Gale tends to your every need. His pregnant wife won’t dare to lift a finger… not even he’s around. Him and his Mage Hands and his simulacrum.

CW: Domestic Bliss, pregnancy (reader), Threesome (kinda) with Gale’s Mirror Image, lap riding and cunniligus, body worship, Needy Gale, praise kink, after care bath of my dreams

My Beloved Series ao3 | ao3 link | masterlist

A cool spring evening. A day spent readying your new home… planting in the garden, painting the walls of the rooms… even a little shopping in the markets of the City of Splendours.

And your day truly was… splendid. A far cry different from your days on the road, covered in dirt and smelling like musk.

Now it’s delightfully domestic.

One hand on your back, you huff and try to bend and straighten up from the sink. There were always dishes to be done with the sheer volume of how much Gale cooks, not to mention how often your tower plays host to his collegial gatherings.

Now that he was chair of the Illusionary Arts Department at Blackstaff, it was almost weekly. You rub out the aching muscles of your back with one hand whilst the other comes to rest where it does these days…

On the ever growing swell of your bump. Your belly. Where you have just started to feel the kicks and squirms of your child.

“Beloved, I—” you hear his rich voice from the library as he walks in, whatever monologue he had prepared ceases as he freezes in place. “My love, this will not do,” Gale approaches you, hand caressing yours at the top of your belly. “You are already undertaking so much for us, please. Allow me to pamper you as the mother you are,” he tilts you up by your chin. “Mother to be, anyway…”

Laughing at his own joke, he grins and pulls you back towards the table. As you do, a dozen Mage Hands pop into existence around the kitchen, filling the darkening space with a strange, soft blue glow.

“In your condition, my wife is going to come and…” he gives a cheeky smile as he pulls you into his lap, settled in a kitchen chair, “let me work my magic.”

Blue and purple light dances from his fingers, crackling in the evening quiet that enfolds your tower. Your eyes flare wide as he brings those sparkling fingers to your thighs, the tingle of lightning at his fingertips igniting your own excitement.

“My love, you are spoiling me,” you sigh, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. The clattering of dishes being washed and dried forms a sort of domestic symphony, the background rhythm to this tender moment.

“Oh, allow me to live dangerously,” Gale chuckles, his velvet voice tickling your ear. “These Mage Hands aren’t the only magic to lend a hand you know.”

Your eyes widen as a full simulacrum image of your husband pops into existence before you, clothed in the same leisurely tunic and pants as the devoted man on whose lap you are perched. You watch it bear that sultry, half-lidded gaze you suspect mirrors the real Gale behind you. It kneels before you, hands running up the backs of your calves, massaging them, those hands of magic cool. Soothing. And those identical brown eyes gaze up through his thick, dark lashes.

“What’s better than one wizard to indulge you and worship you for the goddess you are than two… maybe three…” he croons softly in your ear, Gale’s warm lips nuzzling the sensitive spot behind your ear. The one he knows makes your cunt clench. Warm, mortal hands caress the curve of your belly, his front warming the aching muscles of your back.

Those cool hands of magic slide up to your knees, pressing them apart as it slides between them. His mirror image is of course the same width of Gale’s shoulders, a span you are all too familiar with taking between your thighs. Ethereal hands send their tingling touch upwards, pushing your skirt to ruck around your waist.

But it’s Gale’s heat at your back and under your ass that has you clenching. One of his hands presses on your swollen belly to center you, his own something swollen prodding between your cheeks. He groans loudly right in your ear, “Oh, my love. Come here…”

Those two words have always made a mess of you since he murmured them before he first made you see stars. And stars do break across your vision as you feel him quickly opening the gusset of his trousers. Gods, you swear you can smell him, the scent of his own arousal. Maybe that’s your sharper nose now that you’re further along to your own pending due date.

“You're trembling, my love.” His chuckle tickles your ear almost as much as his beard does, face pressing against you. “They warned us this would happen. The increase of your appetites. Is my fertile wife hungering? Even after I made that sumptuous meal ....”

The simulacrum in front of you smiles, his face twisted in that hungry leer Gale always gets right before his practiced tongue gets to work. An illusion or not, this one is the same. It presses a kiss to your inner thigh. Chilled conjured fingers sweep up your underthings before hooking them to the side.

Your brain tries to reconcile the sight of glowing Gale pressing his face against your sex and the familiar warmth that grinds up and down your backside as your flesh-and-blood husband’s cock seeks its home beneath you. You shiver at the way the double’s tongue parts your folds just like he does, but it’s a cool lick that stimulates you. The double’s beard scores your thighs and your folds. It uses the same play of Gale’s mouth, the same rhythm of flicks on your clit and sucks around it.

You would comment on how uncanny it is… if your mouth could do anything but moan at this moment.

One of your hands reaches behind you, gripping into Gale’s scalp, taking a fistful of his soft, salt and pepper hair. The other hand grabs at your own knee, your nails digging into your flesh just to keep your thighs from shaking uncontrollably in pleasure.

Every sensation the duplicate conjures in your sex is Gale’s… the way those fingers slide and and tap and stroke your g spot, even his lips part to moan with his voice, to vibrate at his all too familiar pitch and timbre into your cunt.

A twin moan sounds in your ear. And warm lips suck and nip at the outer shell of it as Gale grinds his cock against your backside. “My only regret is that I cannot fuck you and devour you at the same moment, my beloved. Not with my real body, anyway.”

He groans, smacking his lips as if he recalls the exact taste of your slick on his tongue. “But today is about pampering you, my wife, my flower, and my goddess.” His hand at your back reaches to beat his length, the rhythm of his fist on his cock matching the sucks and slurps of his mirrored image between your legs.

His words alone make you keen and shake. You stand up slightly at Gale’s silent bidding. His warm mortal hands on your arching waist lift you, slotting you over the blunt, thick head of his cock, even as his mirror image laps and sucks at your clit.

The way he pushes into you, guiding you to sit on his lap between his planted and spread legs… The way his hands caress the curve of your small and yet ever-growing belly until his touch settles on your waist… It’s all you can do to wind your hands tighter into the hair on his head to keep your whole body from collapsing.

That cool copy of a tongue flicks against your clit faster and faster. As if you had a chance to let your walls stretch to accomodate his girth before you feel that heat in your belly burst, that coil snaring tight enough on itself to explode.

You come on that cool tongue and thick cock almost instantly, chest heaving as you feel that growing belly of yours pulsing and hard and all of you on fire.

“That’s one,” Gale’s silken voice whispers in your ear. “But the mother of my child will be spoiled rotten today. Well, spoiled more than usual.” His laughter in your ear, his beard scratching at your neck, he peppers your skin with kisses as he starts to guide you on his lap.

A gentle roll, a subtle bounce, and you arch back against his chest. The friction, the tightness of your muscles only moments after your orgasm, it brings tears to your eyes.

And his warm lips are there to kiss them away as they run down your cheek. “Shhh, my love,” he murmurs against your cheek, “all the bliss and worship you deserve, not to mention all the chores complete.”

You feel that cool tingling tongue and lips at your clit, following your body’s movement. Four pairs of hands roam your curved belly. Two warm, two cooler—the same adoring touch caresses over your heavy swell, worshiping you for the goddess you are.

You know he’s verbose. Loquacious. But there is nothing you love more than when he gets tongue tied with his anatomy buried deep in your cunt.

The highest praise indeed, making Gale of Waterdeep fall silent save the slurping of his mouth on your clit and his breath panting in your ear.

Wet, so wet, your thighs tremble as you ride him. Thick and hot, hands worshipping your swelling belly, you can tell he’s already close. His concentration starts to falter. That simulacrum before you flickers, those mimicking lips that suck around your sex and lap at your leaking slick disappear… reappear… then disappear completely.

He sighs your name on his tongue as your walls flutter. As they clench. As your belly goes taut and waves of bliss rack your whole body. “Fuck… Gale!” You cry out coming for him a second time already, heaving as he thrusts inside you, cock twitching and thick and spilling up into you as he huffs against your ear.

Sweat-slick, you feel his tongue licking the trickles on your neck, the curls of his beard giving you one last ripple of orgasm as your cunt molds to his cock. You can’t move, can’t think, can’t speak aside from his name on your breath.

“Gale…”

“My beloved wife,” he murmurs, voice rough from sex and exertion. He shifts you slightly, just enough to let a little of his seed leak from you. “Good thing my care for you is far from complete. Such precious cargo must be thoroughly attended to.” His hands, warm on your hips, gently help you stand. One hand laces with yours, fingers intertwined as he gently squeezes.

Then, his arm waves around your kitchen to direct your post-coital attention. Surfaces shine in the lantern light, a vase of fresh flowers sits on the perfectly cleaned table, and every dish is washed and packed neatly away.

Flawless.

Magical.

“Hells,” you whisper, realizing that even now Gale is waving his hand to magic the mess of your cum off the kitchen chair.

“Well, not every surface in the kitchen is clean,” he croons, hand sliding to cup your sex. His long finger parts your folds to scoop your slick, dark eyes locked into your as he brings it to his mouth. You swear you clench so hard, watching his lips close around it and suck loudly, that you’ve made another little puddle on the floor at your heels.

Gale chuckles, heavy lidded as he licks his lips. “Some messes are best cleaned the old fashioned way.” Your joined hands lift, his mouth kissing the back of it. So gentlemanly, contrary to the thorough fucking he just gave you.

Softly, he leads you down the warmly lit halls to your bathroom. Blushing as you walk past him, you feel his hand slide round your waist…

Only to grip your ass and give it a teasing pinch.

You yelp, laughing. “Mind those fingers, my wizard!”

“Oh, my apologies…” he laughs through his words. The most powerful Archmage in the realms, and for you, he waves his hand and summons you the warmest bath. Rose petals of softest pinks and vibrant reds flutter and fall from the ceiling. Candles appear and spark to life around the edge of the tub.

As you stand in wonder, you faintly hear the rustle of clothing being shed. Warm hands, warm breath surround you as Gale stands naked before you, all tanned skin and sweaty curls of hair on his body.

“Allow me, my love. The mother of the next future Dekarios will be treated in style, my rose. You shan’t lift a finger today… or any day if you wish,” comes his silken sentences, almost as smooth as the way he deftly strips you. He speaks so softly, just a tenor hush against the shell of your ear. “Now to make you clean after I’ve made you very, very dirty, my flower.”

True to his word, he scoops you up, settling you both in the warm, rosy waters.

You turn in his arms, smiling like a fool in love to feel the aches easing from your heavy laden body. The curve of your belly presses against him, and then you reach for his marking, ready to trace its intricate designs.

“Ah, ah,” Gale stops you, catching your hand midair. “I said no finger-lifting, wife.” He gives a rolling laugh as he kisses your hand to place it on its desired destination. He lifts his one pointer finger to boop you on the nose. “Tch. Naughty.”

Love to @nyx-knox for cheering me on and beta-ing

Love to @redisbetterr for infecting me with Gale

🎨 by @astarfruity ♥️🩵💜

[jedipoodoo]

Call It What You Want (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

The Bad Batch's First "I Love You" Series

Hunter Wrecker Echo Tech Crosshair

The first time Hunter said "I Love You"

When your eyes opened, the sky outside was a hazy purple. The sun wasn't even up yet, so how did you wake up at this time?

You stretched out your hand. The other side of the bed was still warm, but it was empty. Your escapee was gathering his belongings that had been scattered on the floor the night. He'd managed to find his pants but he was still looking for his shirt. But you didn't mind the view.

Hunter turned, and gave you a soft smile.

"Sorry, didn't wanna wake you," Hunter approached bed, and bent down to kiss your forehead. His headband was still missing, and his curls brushed against your eyelashes as they fluttered closed.

"Stay," You begged, fingertips pressing against the skin of his arm.

Hunter gingerly cradled your hand in his, pressing the most tender of kisses to each of your fingertips.

"I would if I could, Cyare," He said mournfully.

"But if I don't get back before the assignment comes in, Crosshair will break in like he owns the place, and getting him to pay for replacing the lock will be worse than pulling teeth."

You giggled at the mental image.

"Don't let them bully you too much."

"Eh, they're brothers. What else are they supposed to do?" Hunter pulled on his shirt and started attaching the pieces of plastoid armor each in its particular place.

Haloed against the sun, slowly rising over Coruscaunt, Hunter looked like an angel. Watching him move, doing something so ordinary with such care, and the way he spoke of his brothers with such fondness, and how gentle he was with you, it was almost too much.

It felt like a waterfall crashing into your chest, rushing and overwhelming you with a feeling you couldn't hold inside anymore.

"I love you."

Hunter looked up from checking his vibroblade. Neither of you had said it before. Never put a name to the feeling that kept pulling you together every time the galaxy tried to pull you apart. He tucked it into its sheath and smiled, reaching out to press his palm to your cheek.

"I love you too." Hunter kissed your forehead, then looked down at his thumb in surprise to see a single drop

"Wha- why are you crying?" He asked, cradling your face in his hands.

You shook your hand, trying to reassure him you weren't hurt or sad. How could you explain this to him when it felt like your heart was swelling bigger than the oceans of Kamino?

"I-I'm just so happy you said it back."

Hunter's eyes widened slightly, and for a moment you could see tears brimming in his eyes before he blinked them away. He leaned in closer, pressing his lips to yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I guess I should've said it first," He mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.

"Doesn't matter," You shook your head, "So long as you mean it."

"Oh I do," Hunter said, brothers and orders forgotten.

"I do," he kissed you again, "I do."

[pinkslipxox]

Hola mami! Can I request a soft smut with miko fic por favorrrr

hey baby!!! Of course!! Hope you enjoy it 💓

——————————————————————————

She lays you down gently, her gaze hungry yet filled with such care and devotion that makes your breath hitch. Her tattoos hands roam your curves with reverence, the coolness of her rings a delicious contrast on your warm skin. The warmth of Miko’s lips against yours sends a shiver down your spine, and you moan softly as she travels down to your collarbone and the gentle swell of your breasts. Each gentle caress, soft kiss sends a warmth to your core, igniting a profound desire and longing that makes you wish that you revealed your true feelings to this sweet, loving, and incredibly beautiful tattooed woman hovering above you.

Tonight, you took a courageous leap of faith. The fear of rejection—or worse, risking your friendship with Miko—has haunted your thoughts for as long as you can remember. She’s been by your side through thick and thin, just as you have been for her. She’s been your confidante, your protector, your best friend. And now, in this moment of raw intimacy, you feel more closer to her than ever, and deep down, you know that she feels the same way.

“Mi amor…” Miko murmurs softly, her voice husky and tender, slipping into the familiar cadence of Spanglish. Her eyes are a darker shade of blue that seem to hold the entire universe within them. She gazes into yours, searching for permission, for confirmation, for the unspoken words that hang thick in the air.

“I trust you, Vicky,” you reply, voice thick with emotion, “more than anything.”

Miko’s lips curl into a smile that lights up her face like the first light of dawn. Slowly, she leans in again, her lips brushing softly against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. Her tattooed hands cradle your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw as she deepens the kiss, her body pressing softly against yours. As her lips move to your neck once more, her breath hot and excited, you realize that this moment—this leap of faith—has changed everything.

For the better. Much better than you imagined.

“Quiero hacerte el amor, Y/N. Quiero ser tuya en todo… now and forever,” Miko whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. Love. Desire.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest, a mix of anticipation and longing. Your fingers find her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her skin through her clothes.

“What are you waiting for?” you tease gently, softly, a playful smile touching your lips. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

“Carajo… eres tan perfecta,” Miko sighs, brushing her thumb across your cheek. “Y tan mía.”

As clothing becomes discarded, the longing, the ache of becoming one with the woman you love becomes more adamant. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel Vicky’s lips plant kisses along your inner thigh, your breath quickening as she gets closer and closer to where you need her the most. She takes her sweet time, savoring your scent, your taste, and you squirm underneath her with anticipation.

“Please… Vicky…” you whimper, and you feel her smirk against your skin. She’s gentle as she cradles your thighs in her hands, her touch firm but enough to keep you in place.

A gasp escapes your lips as you feel her tongue make contact with your pussy, warm and teasing, pressing flat on your throbbing clit. Her mouth— and her fingers— work wonders on you, coaxing out moans and gasps that urge her to continue her pleasurable ministrations. You can’t help but grip her hair, drawing her closer, her nose pressing on your pelvic bone, and you toss your head back in ecstasy. You feel everything— the curl of her fingers, each swipe and swirl of her tongue— and it feels so fucking good.

“F-fuck… Vicky… Please…” you can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. You can’t think straight. It feels as if everything has built up to this moment. All you can think, feel, breathe is Vicky.

“Vicky! I’m gonna…”

A cry escapes your lips as you release, arching your back, gripping the bedsheets as your lover cleans up every last drop of your sweetness. It takes you a moment to come down from your peak, breathless and glistening with sweat, yet you feel so cherished and so loved. Vicky comes back up from your thighs, her satisfied expression saying all the words for her, and she props herself up on her elbow. She brushes a few stands of hair from your forehead, her touch reverent and gentle, and she pulls you close to her body with ease.

“Eso fue increíble, mi amor. Tú eres increíble,” she praises, her warm, husky voice sending a delightful shiver down your spine. She then adds, her voice filled with a deep, abiding affection, “I love you, Y/N. So damn much” and presses a sweet, longing kiss to your lips.

“I love you, too, María Victoria,” you whisper, nuzzling into her neck, basking in the afterglow of your union. With the love of your life, Vicky.

Your Vicky.

[tryandbehappy]

so. let’s break down another episode and my edit (spoiler: i cried for several days, for real).

Nick and June hadn’t seen each other in so long, not since their epic bridge kiss. they missed each other like crazy, and so did we, because it had been half a season without them. we only got those little moments of June missing him so much she touches her neck (yes. it was about Nick. i knew it).

then when Luke suggested Nick might help, and June immediately started crying “he’ll do anything for me and for Nicole” i was gone. the way he just says his name and she starts crying? What ???? it wrecked me. she was trembling with how much she missed him.

the way she rides to meet him, full of anticipation. the way she closes her eyes in pure bliss when she hears his voice.

and then? they gave us art. i still don’t think any couple in tv history has ever been shot as beautifully as that window kiss. the lighting. the framing. the angles. the emotion. their faces. their breath. it was pure cinematic heaven. it’s easily one of my top kisses ever. in any media.

for the first time, Nick says “i should have run away with you” and June agrees. she says yes!!!! the tragedy of timing.

we’ve never seen Nick this broken. the way he looked at her and at their daughter, barely holding back tears, full of silent love and pain. it was unbearable. it was beautiful.

and then? “my beautiful girl” the doll!!!! the tenderness. i cannot even explain how hard i cried and at first i didn’t understand why i was crying so much. but later, in therapy (lmao I brought up Nick in therapy), i realized this episode triggered something deep. it brought up my own daddy issues. my own unresolved grief. i had locked it all away in a box, and this episode… it opened it. it broke me wide open. it made me feel things i didn’t even know were still inside me. i cried for days!!!!! Non stop 😂😭 (now I’m a better person because of it lol)

and this was also the first time he said “try and be happy” which becomes their code, their tragic love language. the phrase that means “i love you so much it hurts to even try without you.” the way June cries in the car after… the way she doesn’t choose freedom, because real freedom without him isn’t freedom at all. it’s emptiness.

and yes, we learn Nick is married but he hid it to not ruin their goodbye. and i think that was the right choice. he protected their moment. their one last moment.

and here’s another thing: June escapes to Canada. she’s finally free. but she’s not happy. she’s devastated. and that grief gave me the perfect canvas to highlight everything she’s said about love: that people don’t die from lack of sex, they die from lack of love. and in this episode, we see her coming back to life and dying again. because she loves Nick so deeply. and without that love, her life doesn’t feel whole. it gave me the chance to bring all those moments together and show what love means to her, the very core of her existence.

for the music for the edit i chose For you only by Trading Yesterday. because that song is devastating omg. it has this epic rise, and the lyrics “i am so far from home, for you only” 😭it’s perfect. it fits both of them. they’re both so far from each other, and all they want is to be together. and this video was my attempt to capture the heartbreak and longing of that truth.

i still can’t believe this episode exists. it feels like lightning in a bottle. no matter how the story ends, we had this. and i’ll never stop being grateful.

[brother-genitivi]

woe!! Destan and Sebastian be upon ye!!

beautifully illustrated by my wonderful friend @forystr (WHO ALSO HAS COMMS OPEN RIGHT NOW YOU SHOULD GET ONE WINK WONK)

his comm links are here and here :)

[aprilblossomgirl]

Hey? I thought you were with Jun. I cleared things up with him already, but I’ve got a new problem now. What is it? I don’t have your number. Huh?

ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat | Ep.03

[having-conniptions]

Oh wow so Fadel really just said "now that I have conformation my boyfriend is a snitch I gotta slow dance with him and tell him I'm in love with him and live in my delulu for a bit longer before all of this blows up"

He "knows" it's "not real" but he'd rather keep pretending because it feels better than anything he's ever felt and he's feeling more alive than he's ever felt and maybe he can at least enjoy this moment for a little bit longer

[through-a-blackhole]

I think the most heartbreaking part of this is because in the first picture, that’s Future Natsu doing the forehead touch with Future Lucy, and he promises her that they’ll be okay.

But in the second picture, that’s Present Natsu doing the forehead touch with Future Lucy. Present Natsu who had no idea that Future Natsu did that with Future Lucy. He did that gesture out of his own love and gratitude to Future Lucy for going back in time to protect their future.

And the reason Future Lucy is crying in the second picture is because she remembers how her Natsu from the Future did the exact same thing. And her Natsu is dead. And this one, still alive, made her remember how her Natsu did this gesture and she lost him after.

In this one shot alone, you can see the love, sadness, gratitude, and fear that Future Lucy and Present Natsu is experience.

And I just love them so much more for it.

[shiloriin]

And when you kiss my wounds,

I don’t feel as unworthy

of you.