#but also as SOON as the writing wants you to REALLY like her it goes out of its way to diminish her powerful presence and UwU her

[noxturnalmoth]

What Could Have Been

Summary: Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Warnings: Canon violence

Word Count: 15, 463

Masterlist: here

Chapter 6 - Catharsis and Ruination

After the meeting with Sevika, Silco had been more relaxed than you've ever seen him. A huge weight taken off of his shoulder after having poured all of his feelings out, and also at knowing his daughter was safe and cared for, building a life for herself out of the noise and healing. And that in turn made you so very happy, because his happiness was becoming your number one priority as time passed while sharing your life with him. Which was probably because of your ever growing feelings, but you'd ignore these until Silco inevitably notices.

Until he notices the stares, lengthening in duration, and the adoration coating each and everyone of them.

But how could you not admire him, not only his beauty but his strength as he carries your heavy components to spare you the extra work and save you time. His resilience, still managing to stand up and live even after all that he had survived, still managing to fight for what he thought was right. How controlled and composed he could be even if he was possessed by an all consuming storm, deep down in the abysses he refused to show anyone. But what you loved the most was how he placed himself in your hands when he was broken, choosing to heal instead of continue his stubborn and desperate ways. Broken shards of crystal put so gently in your hands, cutting you as you pieced him back together, but you didn't mind.

Not when he grew more gentle and kind, letting you peek at who Silco truly was. Not when your shared banter soothed your hard days, not when you proudly executed your plans of working Piltover's forces to the ground. Especially not when you fell asleep to his warmth in your bed, cradling you, hands brushing your hair.

But you had to hide it. For his sake.

He was rebuilding himself, a new life opening itself to him. And one day, he'd probably want his own space, be his own man without your help. And as much as it hurt, you resigned yourself to swallow it all down because being a friend was all you could really hope for, you were only a transitory period after all.

And if that's what you'd have to be, then so be it.

As the constant clinking of your hammer dictated the rhythm of your day, you find yourself working later than usual, letting Silco leave before you like many nights for the past two weeks. Creating molds, writing blueprints to carve intricate designs on metal, soldering articulations and mechanisms to escape the confines of your own mind, all to loud with infatuation.

Now that your dear friend isn't here the air is easier to breathe, mind clearer for but a moment before it spirals again. Both distance and proximity not helping with the tumultuous waters clashing in your heart.

The hammer is harshly brought down on the anvil, metal clashing against metal and shaping the red hot sheet. Your form leaning over it panting from the heat, exhertion and the constant emotional turmoil you've been facing for months now.

Sevika's arm was coming together, balanced to her body weight and size unlike the one Jinx had made her, the oxydized copper and dark, gunmetal steel entertwining in the distinct Zaunite designs you've grown up with. Harsh and industrial in their material and edges, jutting forward to cut at anything approaching, yet organic in shape, gothic and intricate.

It was nearly done, the outer plating was completed and only needed to be covered in the metal lace you've spent so many sleepless nights working on. The clawed fingers only needed to be assembled, the wrist joint soon to be attached while the plating of each knuckle is doubled with more lattice.

"You should rest."

Your body tenses at the touch on your shoulder as you direct the chisel currently in your hand towards the noise, quick and calculated although the movement itself was instinctual.

"Fuck, Silco. Give a little warning next time."

"I did, called out to you but you were unresponsive. I get that you want to help Sevika with her arm but something else is at play here."

His form approaches, looking at you with soft worry, as if scared you'd run away.

"Sorry, I've been in my head a lot lately."

"I've noticed, do you want to talk?"

You grab your soldering machine, your goggles brought down on your face by your other hand as sparks begin to fly about, fireworks in the palms of your hands as you pull the arm together.

"I guess that with the thing at Vander's statue and the talk with Sevika I've been...Realizing how close we're getting to a full on civil war."

"Does it frighten you?"

"Only a fool would feel no fear at something like this."

Your voice mumbles as joints, plates and intricate metal lace are interwoven, pieced together like a puzzle. And for a while it was silent, your thoughts sinking back into the dark recesses of your mind.

"And what's this?"

You turn around to find Silco holding a blueprint, one you've made with the hex crystal in mind. A circular pedestal with a round indent at the center, some grooves leading from it to the arches creating a dome over the contraption. A crank and button were linked to the main component on a smaller rectangular piece, to activate the machine and change the positions of each of the six wheels. On each of those were mirrors, small and circular in shape, that would be engraved with a rune yet you knew not which one just yet. Held up by four long pins was a cylindrical sheath, meant for a shimmer vial, placed right above the hex crystal's resting place.

"It's for Samira, gave her the arcane stone we found and she said she could maybe use it for treatments because it seems to help with certain mollecules. So I'm helping her channel it."

He nods, thumbs caressing the paper as he observed each intricacies, your writing thoroughly analyzed as he whispered each word scratched on the large page.

"Did you get started on it?"

You nod looking towards the side table and Silco walks towards it, the sheet covering the intricate machine soon taken off to reveal it half done.

"I just need to solder the parts together and find the right runes. Unfortunately I know no one capable of helping and going topside would be bad right now, especially since Jayce Talis disappeared and he was the only one capable of helping."

You mumble, the arm slowly yet surely taking shape between your expert hands. The calouses covering them being followed my more recent scars, some of them from today, crusted over by blood, soot and sweat.

"Two weeks."

You turn to Silco confused, the cloth at your hip used to wipe your sweaty face as he walks towards you, pushing your goggles up.

"You've been working, going on missions and doing all of this for two weeks."

"I'm fine."

"You look dreary. Do not lie to me."

You sigh as he grabs your chin, dehydrated and exhausted you couldn't help your head from lolling just a bit, leaning into his warm touch.

"Let me finish this at least, please Silco. I just need to put the elbow pieces together."

He huffs a soft breath, your chin freed from his grasp as he pulls your goggles back over your eyes, pushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead afterwards. His head nods to your workspace, prompting you to finish the soldering, moving the arm around and bending every joint to see if everything was up to standard. And with a groan you stretch, arms and back popping before you rip your goggles way, letting them hang around your neck.

"Let's go home, you grump."

"I'm only a grump because you're working too hard."

"Now, you're one to talk Mr.I've been a revolutionary since my teen years."

"Dove."

His voice thunders dangerously and you freeze in the doorway, shaking your head to get your control back yet grateful that the colored neon lights of Zaun hide the red flush of your face. You begin walking as he closes up, long strides easily letting him catch up with you

"What? I finished Sevika's arm, I'll have less work now."

"Now." He points out. "It still doesn't erase the fact you've spent even your days off at work. What about this project you told me about?"

"It's a part of it. The new contraption I mean. There are so many diseases stemming from Piltover's chemicals we could heal with something like that, Silco. Sump resistant plants are needed, and moss doesn't nearly make enough sap. But with enough of it and this crystal, we could create a healthcare system for Zaun."

"You are resting this weekend, I will not take no for an answer."

"I have to see Sami-"

"She can wait."

Silco's tone was flat, indicated he would indeed not accept any debate on his choice. When you two get to bed that night it feels heavy, the ever growing sentimentality you feel for him, your exhaustion overtaking you as you enter his embrace. You didn't even have time to caress his hair before you were dragged to the abyss of sleep, drowning in nightmares that felt more and more distant as Silco held you.

"Have you been to the northern fissures?"

He asks when you nearly crawl out of bed and to the table in your small kitchen, the bed way too good after barely sleeping for the past two weeks. Your already small nights smaller and your days off spent slaving away at the forge.

The only answer he gets is an unceremonial grunt as you slide in your chair, your breakfast soon put in front of you.

"Is that a no or a yes?"

"No." You sigh happily as you savour the flatbread and sautéed squid, spiced and seasoned to perfection as always. "I wasn't here when they were still open."

"Would you like to go?"

His question surprises you and you think before swallowing your bite with coffee, your cup prepared to your taste. Your eating habits engrained within Silco's clever mind from the time you two spent together.

"I'm up for it." And before your next question can pass the threshold of your lips realization lights your eyes up like the neons illuminating Zaun. "That's where you worked before, wasn't it?"

"Indeed."

"And you want me to come?"

"Not just to the mines. It's more...a specific place within it."

"An old haunt?"

He huffs softly, head bouncing in a soft nod while his hair follows the movement, untied and silky. And although you've always kept yourself from being intimate unless it was when the sun came down, in the alcove or in your bed, today your body moved before you could scold yourself into staying still. Body leaning forward held by your left hand, the right one brushing through his hair before pulling it behind his ear. And he looks at you like you brought air filtration to Zaun, your own lip worried between your teeth as you tried to keep his hair from falling back, making it as perfect as you could, his silence broken when he clears his throat.

"Something like that, yes."

He sounds breathless and you tilt your head in confusion before he nods to your plate, his good eye back to its usual half lidded nonchalance while he motions to your cooling breakfast.

"Sure, why not. Last time you brought me to a special spot to you we became friends, I wonder what will happen now."

You smile up to him, cheeks full of food while he scoffs, entertwining his hands as his elbows hold his arms up on the table and his face is hidden behind them, his eyes looking to the side.

"It's not that special."

He nearly mumbles, sound smothered by his hands.

"Is that place special to you?"

"Very."

"Then it is that special. And I'm glad you see me as worthy enough to share such an important place."

Silence settles between the two of you and you point to his plate the same way he had pointed to yours.

"You are."

Rings after a while, the sound bouncing off the walls.

"What?"

"Worthy. You are worthy, to me."

Your eyes gloss over, goosebumps lifting each hairs on your body, and your heart pumps your blood at inhuman speeds within your veins, skin becoming too hot too quickly. Your thoughts stopped and freezed into place, soon enough becoming blank. The small sweet sentence enough to force your whole being into a reboot for the exception of your heart, which was thrumming in elation at the words.

The only thing you can answer with, a smile stretching across your face slowly, before you two leave is something small and quiet. Demure enough in its dictation and cadence that it would have sounded like the Janna's blessing cutting through Zaun's narrow streets if it weren't for the utter silence in the room.

"You're worthy to me too."

The trek there was spent in relative silence, the busy streets serving as back drop until the noise faded into mechanical whirrs and soft whistling. The structures of the northern fissures abandonned and the houses less populated and quieter the closer you got to the mines.

The strong smell of metal, rust and humidity dampening your senses as you enter the dark cave, taking apart some planks and pulling them back in place, the light from outside disappearing and leaving you and Silco in the dark. That's when you jump, a loud clap bouncing off of the walls and illuminating the stone path, your friend looking at you smugly.

"What?" The light dims again and this time you clap, revelling in the way the fungi around you glow, crouching to pat one in wonder. "I've never seen those before!"

Silco is right behind you, bending at the waist to look over your shoulder, as he chuckles, voice sweet and gravelly as he looks fondly to the mine's tunnel.

"They only grow in the mines, the chemicals bond with some of the metals here and fungi gain this bioluminescent quality to them."

You pick a few of the big bulbous mushrooms and put them in your satchel, wiping your now slimy hands on yourself while Silco sighs.

"What? I need to bring back more plant samples to Samira and those seem full of sap. I can't work on y-" You stumble over your words quickly. "-the first type of antidote, without a good enough amount of this. Although I don't know if it'll work, but it's better than nothing, trial and error and all that."

You get back up and turn to Silco who has his eyebrows raised inquisitively and you pray to Janna that your rant made him forget about your little slip up. Your hands clap and you two continue to make your way, further and further down the winding paths.

That's when you notice.

"Silco, is anything still happening in those mines?"

"No, they're abandonned, why?"

You point to your right, claw marks littering the wall and ground. Your eyes follow them and you clap louder.

"Is that where we need to go?"

He nods, face grave and good eye narrowed. There were no grand signs of panic coming from him yet you could see the tension in his shoulders, the clenching of his jaw and his hands clenching and unclenching as if preparing for a fight.

"Let's go."

"It could be dangerous. I wouldn't want to risk-" He takes a sharp breath and shakes his head. "We don't have to go."

"Well, I want to. This place is important to you, so let's go."

You take his hand, his whole form rattling in surprise at the touch. Whenever the lights dimmed, you would make a small noise, loud enough to make the fungi glow with life, not enough to bounce off of the cavernous walls and start a headache. And after a moment of walking, Silco now back to leading you while his hand remained in yours, you gained an idea.

You knew that miners were superstitious to a certain extent, believing in the goddess Janna more than most along with those from the Sump. And growing up you would hear chants, now engraved in your heart you thought it to be a better way to illuminate the plants leading your way instead of ringing noises.

"Bey'fet ihru ga, Ahuni lek'cho."

The way lights up.

Beyond these walls, the Storm's fury grows.

Silco's hand squeezes yours, a small nostalgic smile growing on his face as you look at him. So you squeeze back, eyes observing the growing beastly marks on the surfaces of the tunnels as lights dimmed.

"Bey'un habbab, Ahuni lek'cho."

Albeit the growing concern of the ruined tunnel, clawed left and right, you two advance, steps assured yet hands clasped to one another's in comfort.

Over the seas (and land), the Storm's fury grows.

It was strange how the sound of the chant ricoché'd in the long stone corridor, sounding almost like you weren't alone singing, like this place was not nearly as quiet as you thought it was.

What was also strange was how you weren't scared and neither was Silco, his form more relaxed than when you had first observed the claw marks and so were you. Was it the song, reminiscent of something real and concrete that could root you back into reality. Or maybe it was Silco's presence. You knew your lack of fear could be attributed to the latter, the former only exacerbating the effects of it. Yet you couldn't help but hope deep down that you were the cause for his comfort too.

"Suhbi al naa yih.."

Rings when the dark swallows the two of you, Silco's voice soft and nearly whispered, a soft rhythm cadencing his words into a song.

The blue bird exists and thus...

The tunnel illuminates, the smile on Silco's face growing and showcasing chipped crooked teeth, watered by your own surprised expression also morphing in a toothy smile. His eyes, shining with mirth and something more tender, were still trained forward to a quickly approaching wooden door. Yet you could see them leaving the path to observe you, the lights dimming as your cheeks flushing red.

"..Kha aademas auja."

I fear nothing.

You answer, lighter in tone, the lights around you shining only dimly, enough for you two to walk to the doorway. That's when you notice the small golden glow from inside, your hands gripping one another's tighter before separating. Your own reaching for your Noxian knuckle blades, the same ones that you had been using for nearly a year now, polished and sharpened to perfection. While Silco takes two daggers in hand, he nods to the door and you step back, knocking it down with a heavy kick.

You immediately zero in on the now black haired girl, eyes blazing in anger at the recognition.

"I told you not to come back here girl!"

Her eyes widen as your body staddles her, blades at her throat, body tensing.

"I'm sorry, I promise I have a good reason!"

That's when two metallic clanks resound in the room, a choking breath, then a shaking sob following them. You glare at Violet as you turn, Silco was standing straight with a long blue haired girl gripping him tightly. The small brown haired child from the revolt at the Lanes, her locks now changed from a soft brown to a bright yet patchy blue, looking confused between the two displays.

"You can let her go."

Silco breathes out, arms reaching around his daughter and you sigh, getting off of the older sister and sheathing your blades back in your belts. You show your hand to her, beckoning her to take it so you could help her up.

"Looks like you're good for now, Violet."

"How-"

"Later."

You nod at her before moving to the child, remembering her name from your meeting with Sevika. You crouch with a friendly smile and take her mining helmet away, ruffling her hair before placing the hard hat back on her small head, the kid laughing at the ministration.

"You must be Isha, are you alright kiddo? You've pulled quite the stunt last time at the reunion."

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion before nodding, a grin stretching across her face, her arms embracing you softly and quickly before she pulls back.

"Dad, how...how did you survive?"

"Let's sit down for that, poppet."

And sit down you all did, Jinx looking at you suspiciously while you settle down next to her father, Isha on her lap as she sits and Vi to her side leaning against the wall.

"You're alive.."

"I am."

"Why didn't you come back to me? I thought I-" Jinx trembles, her eyes glossing over as she gazes at Silco's hand reaching around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

"Because I have learnt that I had caused too much damage, too much death. And that killing is a cycle that only walking away can break." He sighs, his thumb rubbing your shoulder as his other hand reaches for his daughter's face. "I have hurt you, you know that?"

"I know but, you were-"

"The best father I could be with the way I am. I know poppet. But I have made you a weapon, I aided in ruining your already fractured mind. Although I gave you a roof and as much love as I could, I dragged you down with me as I sank into my very own abyss. I'm sorry Jinx."

"You abandonned your dream! You left Sevika and I to pick up the pieces of your empire, the one you built and burnt to the ground yourself!"

Jinx's face leans into Silco's hand, yet her lips tremble, confusion and anger, sadness and fear tainting her face.

"I have left the empire I built as the Eye of Zaun, yes. But I haven't abandonned my dream of a Nation for all of us. My friend and I have been quietly working towards it, her for longer than I have, and I just followed in her steps."

Everyone's eyes shift to you and you nod as a greeting, your name slipping from your lips, preferring Silco to talk in this situation.

"She was there when it all happened, and saved me from the goodness of her heart. She helped me heal, in more ways than one, even when I was more than undeserving of it. She gave me a place to stay, and honest insight into my own mistakes. She's welcomed me in her life, in her work and in her rebellion. I would not be here now if it wasn't for her."

"That doesn't make you a good man." Scoffs Vi, Silco takes his hand away from Jinx and nods solemnly.

"Indeed, and I do not pretend to be. All I can do is be better. If I didn't, I know she would have been the first to set me back on the right path." Silco's voice rumbles. "Or to beat me into it."

You chuckle, the sound calling his eyes to you, the ever so soft gaze melting you as it always does. It seems to shock Jinx and Vi who look to one another with amused yet distraught faces.

"You bet I would have, you fossil."

His laugh rings in the shabby wooden room.

"Are you two..In charge of the Children of Zaun then?"

"Yes, Vi. Are you still an enforcer?" You answer back, eyebrows raised and gaze trained to the giant mechanical gauntlets behind her.

She scoffs. "No, turns out stopping Cait from shooting through Isha to get to Jinx is good enough of a reason for her to go Noxian dictator on us."

"That was the reason?"

She nods sadly, the affection in her eyes broken by such pain that you knew exactly what had happened.

"The things we do for love, right kid?"

"You can say that again."

"The things w-"

Silco takes the hand around your shoulders to your mouth and you snort, the room's tension dissipating as everyone followed you. You take the hand off, entertwining your fingers with Silco's. A gesture to calm yourself and be closer to him, hoping to Janna he would let you be so intimate, yet also that he'd build distance between you two to not let you fall into delusions. He lets it happen, squeezing once, your heart replicating the movement in shackled adoration.

"And you Jinx, how have you been?"

The girl's pink eyes snap to yours curiously, a pinch in her eyebrows showing shock at your care towards her.

"I've been...alright, better."

"So I've heard. Your dad's been really worried about you, you know? But we saw Sevika two weeks ago, she told us little bunny over there has been helping you." You scrunch your face at Isha who giggles. "I'm glad you found someone to live for, everyone needs something to push them forward."

"And you've been helping, dada."

She mumbles and you smile at her, one hand reaching to ruffle her hair.

"To the best of my ability, you know how your old man is kiddo."

"Commanding?"

"I was going more for cantankerous, stubborn and annoying. But why not?" You smirk and she cackles, your hand retracting to push away Silco's that escaped yours, pinching at your waist. Yet it remained there, softly soothing the bite it had delivered.

"I'm not all that bad anymore, am I, dove?"

Your lips twitch and you turn your head away, shaking it as if you were disappointed simply to hide your blush.

"You're a confident one."

"Oh shut up." He barks a laugh.

Jinx and Vi tense at the noise, eyes widening at Silco before looking at you like you grew two more heads.

"Where is Silco and what have you done to him?"

"What the f-"

You raise your eyebrows at the older girl. "Language."

She purses her lips before shaking her head incredulously, Jinx giggling, reaching to you both with a paper in hand and presenting it to Silco.

"I think you might want to read that, Silco."

"Yes, I...It's from Vander, from way back when..." The younger girl continues.

Your friend takes the letter, the hand at your waist squeezing as his eyes fly through the words.

Silence.

Even as his grip becomes borderline painful, you make no noise to disturb it.

Even as the letter crinkles in his grip.

"This..."

"Could've changed everything? Yeah, that's what we thought aswell."

"Why...?"

You gently take the paper from his grip and read it.

I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s clear you don’t want to be found. God I’m shit at this. I’m sorry. When she died…I lost my head. I told myself what I did to you was for the greater good, that you deserved it, but the dirt was on both our hands. Anyways, you know where to find me.

Blisters and bedrock.

V.

Indeed, it could've changed everything. If Silco had found this back in the day, when he was still freshly hurt and untainted by his pain. No matter how clumsy the words are, they convey enough guilt that you knew Silco would have at least heard Vander out. Even if he wasn't forgiven. But after spending so much time with the man, and knowing how profoundly he loves, you know he would have.

So you fold the letter and put it in his pocket, turning towards him and cradling his face. Your breath shaking as you try to look into his eye.

"Do you need time?"

"I'll be fine, I simply-"

"Everything could have been different, but what point is there in drowning in what ifs, Silco? What's done is done, what happened, happened. You've forgiven Vander long ago, and I'm sure that he would have too, given the time. Seeing who you've become now."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain."

Your right thumb caresses his scarred cheek quickly, barely holding yourself back from embracing him with all the love you held for him, before returning to your place, Silco's hand softening around you.

"Why are you two girls here?" You question, leaving Silco to his thoughts.

"Vi here was ruining herself, drinking and fighting after Cait-"

"Jinx." The sister groans.

"And when Isha had been caught, Sev and I went to get her at Stillwater...But there was something there. A beast who killed and destroyed everything in its path. And I promise I'm not lying when I say it's Vander! He said my name! He called me Powder and got out of his murderous transe then he just left!"

The hand around you clenches yet again, Silco's breath shifting to a faster, more chopped cadence. Your hand covers his softly.

"A beast you say?"

"I know it sounds mad but I'm not lying! Something happened to him! I swear!"

"I trust you Jinx." She stops her panicked rambling, Isha holding her close for comfort and her eyes glazed over yet again.

"You do..?" She sounds fully disbelieving.

"Of course, I'm your father's friend and I trust him, so if he trusts you so do I. You're not a bad kid, you just did bad things and I know you regret them. Trust me, I'd know what being a monster is and you're far from being one."

Your smile relaxes her tensed body, Violet looking at you with a faraway look while her face softens into something akin to gratitude and nostalgia.

"So you came because...you thought Vander would come here when he broke out of whatever he was controlled by?"

Jinx nods, not trusting her words.

"And you wanted your sister to come, so you could both reunite with him?"

Her eyes trail to Violet who smiles softly.

"We've seen the claw marks in the tunnels, we trust you Jinx. Your father and I."

The girl sniffles and slides Isha off of her lap, the child walking towards you cautiously and setting herself on the table next to you with your help, hand momentarily leaving Silco's.

"And you?"

"I...wanted to show her this important part of my life." Finally speaks the man, his voice the slightest bit shaky yet reverting back to its controlled tone.

"She has become the most important person for me now, and after seeing and apologizing to Sevika it only felt right to bring her here."

Your heart clenches at his words, you knew he only meant that you were a close friend yet you couldn't help but find it in his tone that he could be more. A delusion perhaps, fueled by the time spent together and his vulnerability, yet something that you couldn't simply gloss over as your hand clenches around his.

"You apologized?"

Vi says incredulously and Silco nods solemnly.

"And I should apologize to you too Violet. I've made your life a living hell, and I know I can take none of it back. But if you ever need anything, consider it done. You don't have to forgive me, not now and not ever if you do not find it in your heart to. Just know that I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions to you and allof those whom I've hurt."

"Wait. Does that mean you were there when the strike team.."

"Yes. Dove here was not only agressive because of what Kiramman did to our people but also because she was keeping you from finding me in the back. She was, once more, my shelter. I owe her my life and so much more, I believe it'd be impossible to repay it all."

You shake your head, elbowing him softly as you try to shake off the way you melted as he said the nickname that he's found for you.

"You already do more than enough Sil."

"I don't believe that's true."

"You don't have to. It's the truth."

You smile and Silco gently grins back, pushing his hips away from the wooden table, his hand caressing you as it leaves its spot on your waist and touches the table. You have half a mind to pursue his touch yet decide against it, body stiffening at the inner conflict. His svelte form approaches two jackets hung on the wall. Grabbing the smaller one he sighs, slowly taking off the one he wears before putting the dustier one on. It fits him perfectly, and you melt at the sight.

It was his old jacket.

He reaches to the other one, placing the one he wore prior on the hanger. Slowly, he turns and approaches the table once more before reaching for your shoulders. Your heart stammers in your ribcage as he slides your coat down your shoulders, your hands twitching and stare darting all over his face as he does so. And when it's off, he gently places the larger jacket on you.

"It fits you."

Silco's voice is nearly imperceptible and you almost swoon and jump into his arms, instead choosing to grab at the leather. The smell of humidity, metal and dirt clinging to it like seafoam on the shores of Ionia. Your eyes find his teal one, the burning orange still hidden behind its eyepatch, and you break just a bit at how he looked at you. It was chaotic, yet soft, something you couldn't decypher yet that had your stomach bursting with firelights, warming you from the inside.

"Guys, he's not here, let's just go."

The moment is broken by Vi and you nod, sighing both in relief and in dejection as Silco steps away. Isha jumped off the table and took your hand, dragging you towards the door and letting a huff of laughter leave your lips as you follow her, the two sisters behind you.

The two girls argue softly behind you, talking about how Jinx had lied again, about Vander's survival, and Jinx defending herself. The child at your side jumping between the sisters before Violet pushes her away, unknowingly throwing Isha to the ground, her small hand scraping against a rock.

"Are you okay little one?"

You ask, crouching next to her and observing her hand. She was bleeding a small bit, and without thinking much you pull a small bandage from one of your many pouches, kissing the small wound before putting the small plaster on it.

"There, all better."

Meanwhile Silco is trying to de-escalate the arguement, softly talking to the two stubborn girls and taking the side of neither. Showing just how much he's grown from an overprotective and blinded parent, to a responsible father even to the child he didn't raise. The older sister now his daughter by proxy from having been his best friend's child, then his brother's, but also Jinx's sibling.

That's when the you heard it, the faraway sound of something approaching. Something big. The lights dimming to nothing but pitch black as the sound gets closer.

You guide Isha behind you, hands reaching for your blades and Silco standing next to his daughter with a protective arm placed in front of her. Violet moved in front of all of you, gauntlets glowing with arcane energy as she gets ready to attack whatever rushes at you, your own form tensing behind her.

"I got your back Vi."

"Thanks, Mrs. Silco." She glances at you from over her shoulder.

You stammer and she smirks, turning back forward. Jinx calls out to her as red light appears in the tunnel, pleading her sister not to hurt the beast currently rushing towards you, snarling violently as if starved. And Vi punches him, you in tow using the knuckle parts of your Noxian blades to push the monster back.

"Don't hurt him!"

Yet as the beast zeroes in on Isha, Violet and you pushed pack with another flurry of punches. Your bodies thrown back at a violent sweep of his claws, you taking the blunt of it as you rushed in front of the girl. Silco holds you close in his arms from your crumpled position on the ground as the gauntlet wielding woman gets back into position.

"Vander!"

The monster closes in, and as you think the older girl will attack again, preferring to protect you all rather than bet your lives on a story, she drops her hands.

The room grows dark again, not even illuminated by the red of the beast's...you wouldn't even know what to describe what was on his back. Some sort of pump, full of a glowing crimson liquid. Probably an artificial heart to animate the, what was meant to be, dead man.

Silco holds you tighter.

"Are you okay, my dove?"

You nod in stupor, clinging to him as Jinx gets up, flicking a lighter on as she holds Isha close. Wandering in the dark, walking towards where Vi and Vander's ghost had been. Her breath is heavy and stuttering, searching for her sister and father in the dark. When the dust clears, you see it.

The beast glows green.

The violent red replaced by a peaceful tone reminiscent of Zaun's neons as Violet holds the monster's neck tight, the larger creature softening in her hold. A hand is over her back, cradling her neck protectively as she turns around, a hand held out invitingly.

"What are you waiting for? He's your dad too."

Jinx sobs, shaking in disbelief before dropping her lighter and rushing to Vander and Violet. You grunt, getting up with Silco's help before joining the girls, Isha clinging to you in fear and wonder at the sight in front of you as she seeks comfort in your touch.

The beast grows restless as it sees Silco, yet as it observes you held so gently at his side, it grows confused.

"It's been so long, brother." You hear from your friend, fear freezing you at the thought of Vander attacking, yet Silco's warmth melting it back.

"Hello Vander." Your voice is small. "I promise we'll explain everything."

Duochrome eyes dismantle the sight of you before his arms open wider and you smile, pushing Silco forward as you stayed back with Isha. The man stumbling in his old friend's grasp as sobs rack through him. Silent, yet strong enough for you to notice the shuddering of his back. Yet his hand grabs yours, pulling you and Isha in the embrace. The warmth of such unbridled love enough to have you crying too, included in a family you were never a part of yet were accepted into.

You don't know how much time was spent in each other's arms, crying, mumbling apologies and I love you's, before you pull away. Still holding onto Silco's hand you turn to the man, his hair out of his usual bun, face struck with so many emotions yet everyone of them was clear. Relief, sadness, guilt, shame.

"You were right." You hear from behind you.

"I know it sounded insane bu-"

"It doesn't matter, Jinx. You were right, and I'm sorry for doubting you. I'm sorry for everything."

Violet holds her sister tight and Vander's gaze turns to you and Isha once more.

"Vander, this is Isha. She was taken in by...Powder" You say the name softly, looking at the girl who nods, her eyes looking at you in approval. "She helped your daughter a lot and in turn your daughter helped her." You explain softly, smiling at the creature. "And I'm Silco's friend. I...Helped him back on the right track, you could say."

"She saved me from death, brother. And set me straight, made me a better man. I know you and Felicia would have loved her."

"I was way too young to know all of you back then, Sil."

He looks at you fondly, lips pursing back a smile.

"Perhaps, my dove."

He turns back to his brother in time for you to release a deep breath. Janna, this man didn't know what he was doing yet it seemed like he did. And you hated that you loved it, the self-satisfied yet kind look in his eyes as he said that word in his dulcet tone.

As all six of you make your way out of the mines your eyes trail off to the side, a large tarp covering an entrance to a branching tunnel and you get an idea. You walk towards it, hand leaving Silco's who looks at you in confusion, and rip it from its place in the wooden frame.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, do you want enforcers on our asses for dragging a gigantic man beast. Sorry Vander." You turn to him and nod in apology, the man huffing in acceptance. "So let's at least cover him. We'll bring you guys to my shop."

"You have a shop?" Jinx asks from behind Vander's hulking form.

"A forge, yes. There will be enough space to house him until we think about what to do."

You throw the large fabric over Vander, Violet helping you wrap it around him from the other side. The beast holding it close to himself and covering his head.

"Are you comfortable, Vander?" The man nods, another puff of air escaping him.

"We'll close up shop." You hear from behind you, Silco looking pensive. "She's overworked herself and was long overdue for a vacation."

You turn, an jokingly idignant look permeating your features.

"Hey if you're too old to work hard just say it Sil. Don't pin it on me." You tease as he scoffs.

"I'm not the one who woke up four hours later than usual and looked like death, this very morning."

You roll your eyes as he slips his hand in yours again, dragging you forward and the group following after.

The way to your shop was riddled with curious stares, yet as people saw Silco and you aswell as the blue haired girl, they nodded. Respect pouring from their forms as they turned away, blind to your group while you walked to the forge. Entering it and closing the metal blinds behind you, forge soon illuminated by the hearth's flame, Isha helping you haul wood there all too happily. Each time she would bring back a small bundle you'd pinch her cheek lovingly, a small kiss delivered to a new part of her face and she'd giggle on her way back to get more fuel.

In the back, Silco is sitting next to Vander, Violet on the other side of the bigger man and Jinx on the table in front of everyone, observing and quipping at times. The energy she was known for nowhere to be seen. Yet you can understand why, discovering two of the fathers she lost are still alive and that both have drastically changed, one more than the other. Along with her past and her newfound responsibilities as the face of Zaun's rebellion and parent to Isha, you could understand why she's changed so much from the loose canon she used to be.

You set yourself next to her, hips leaning against the table before bending to take Isha in your arms, the girl clinging to you and Jinx talking next to the both of you.

"All I'm saying is that there must be a way to change him back! Or at least to make him I don't know...Vander again! Without anymore of those freak outs!"

"We'd have to find the reason for those sudden changes, though." Silco leans back on the couch, arms draping over the back.

Isha shuffles around in your grasp and you get off of the table, placing her next to Jinx. That's when you look down at her hands, brushing yours against them, that you realize what the reason for Vander's rage could be.

"Blood." All eyes turn to you.

"Violet pushed Isha away while she was arguing with Jinx, and the kid scraped herself on a rock. She bled and it's only after that, that Vander rushed to the mines."

You show the child's injured hand, the bandage on there taken away so you could clean it again before you put a new wrap on it. The girl hugs you, her face nuzzling right under your chest. The older sister turns to you and you break from the embrace, going to lean against the wall.

"But we can't know for sure."

"We can."

You take Silco's dagger out of your pockets, the same one he had gifted you over a year ago, and flick it open, spining it between your fingers.

"No."

"Silco.

"Dove." He gets up from his spot to approach you, his pace panicked "I'm not letting you put yourself in danger, even if Vander is himself now, your method could work and tick him off and you could get gravely hurt. You will not try it."

"Then we'll never know! We need to know what triggers him to know what to avoid! I mean maybe my blood won't even work because so many people bleed at once, maybe only the blood spilled by people somehow important to him can get him angry!"

"For Janna's sake, you are important."

His voice bounces from every wall yet he doesn't yell, his words are harsh, clipped and hissed with the concern and care of his eyes softening his agression.

The room was so silent that Vander's deep breaths could be heard.

Violet is standing up from the couch, fists clenched and body tense as she seems to want to come and protect you. Jinx holding Isha with a soft gaze trained towards you, Vander's heterochromatic eyes looking at you in a similar fashion.

And for all the hope it gives you, at how concerned Silco is and at how everyone seems to react to it, you'd rather not imagine why their gazes are that way lest you fall into delusions again.

"Silco?"

"You are taking the week off, and you are not executing your little plan. Promise me."

"Sil-"

"Promise."

His voice grows more and more gentle, one hand sliding up from your shoulders to hold your chin and direct your gaze to his.

"Promise me, my dove."

And under his gaze you crumble, the touch, the nickname, the tone of voice and his form hiding yours from the others' inquisitive looks are enough to leave you flushed. Shaking you nod.

"With your words."

"Yes."

His eyebrow arches, lips pursing in discontent, the marred side of his face twitching.

"Yes, Silco."

And with that he sighs, his hand caressing your chin as he leaves the room under the excuse of going to buy dinner, and you breathe heavily, ragged and fast.

"So...how long have you two been together?"

"What?!" You turn to Violet, expression disbelieving.

"You're...not?"

"No! Why would he-" You purse your lips and straighten. "We're not together. We aren't. We're just friends. He's just changed, that's all."

A scoff is heard from the table, Jinx barely holding back a laugh. her blue hair moving with her like flowing water from the Frelljord.

"Well then he must be pretty stupid!"

"Jinx, that's your father."

"Riiiight, sorry mom."

You groan, dragging yourself to a chair and slumping on it, face on the table. Your blush spreading through you like wildfire, the teasing only making it worse.

"Let's just not."

"Even Vander thinks it."

"Well I can't hear him teasing me so that's fine by me. Sorry Vander." A huff answers you, almost sounding like a chuckle. "Oh f-.. shut it."

"Men are stupid. That's a given." A pat's given on your back, Violet's warmth seeping through the heavy miner's jacket.

"And women too apparently."

"You can say that again."

"And wom-" She smacks the back of your head and you sigh out a laugh, a hand raking through your hair as you sit up straight. "Really though, let's not."

"You're torturing yourself liking a man like that." And to your surprise Jinx nods along.

"I know girls, don't remind me."

A small hand pats your hair and you look forward to see Isha smiling at you, making humming noise and you grin back.

"How could we help Vander though?" Vi sets herself next to you.

"His body might not be salvageable. From what I know his death could very well have destroyed his body, so this may be what we have to work with." Jinx gazes towards where you are, Isha crawling into your lap from hers.

"But who could help?"

"Dada knew a man, Singed. Tall, burnt, very creepy. He made shimmer. He saved my life too, he could-"

Vander's growl stops her, all eyes pinning him like darts on a board, he looks restless and his eyes are swirling with so many feelings you couldn't even begin to fathom. Pure unbridled fear is what rolled out of him in waves, and so it was clear to all of you then that Singed was not an option.

Then you remember, so many rumors coming from clients, words whispered on the streets of a healer. Many refused to believe such a thing as you were in Zaun and a magical, kind being offering their help without demanding anything in return was bound to be a scam. At best, you would go back home naked, destitute of all your possessions. As for the worst? You would either have no home to come back to, or no life animating your body.

Miracles were a gamble, even more so in Zaun where you were ground 0 to test all of what seemed to cruel or inhumane to try on any other human.

Yet over the past year this mysterious healer had gained a following, apparently rallying and helping those in need where you originated from. The Sumps.

The lowest, poorest and most dangerous of the levels in the Undercity. Where those who have nothing live, praising Janna for a blessing that you now knew would never come.

Or would it?

People came back changed from this healer, or never came back again. Describing a kind, soft spoken man draped in dark blue, his long hair caressed as if he carried the Winds with him, a scepter of marble and gold held within his ethereal, indigo grasp. Eyes a kaleidoscope that could see through your very being, separate soul from body and pick apart every emotion, every atom, before pulling them back together, better than before.

You feared a cult, a hidden scheme, yet seeing Jinx and Violet now clinging to Vander as he held them close, Isha pulled along in the beast's lap; you couldn't help but want to believe. When you saw Silco's walls crashing down, sobbing in his brother's arms with abandon, his emotions seemingly less in his control.

You couldn't help but hope.

And hope was all a Zaunite could ever do with the life they were dealt with.

Hope for financial stability, a roof over their head, clothes on their back, food in their belly, love if life allowed them and a child if the gods were generous. Hope was all you could afford, fear was all you were awarded.

And on the cusp of a civil war, a revolution, you needed more than simple hope. You needed a concrete sign.

So when Silco comes back you propose your plan to smuggle Vander down to the Sumps, and meet this man. The Singed man not an option you could explore due to the man-beast's restlesness at the mention of him. And Silco looks conflicted, just like you imagining so many bad outcomes for his dear friend, this healer capable of bringing him back or take him away from the lithe man's grasp again, him and both sisters left behind like before.

Yet the more you talk and resonate, the more you see the gears and cogs of their minds turn, analysing and pondering every word flowing from your lips. You had nothing much to lose anymore and Vander needed to be stable, maybe then some of the ever growing tension that was generated by the inter-city conflict could be erased. Leaving your minds clear and ready for the approaching fight.

The war readying itself right under your eyes.

So food was quickly consumed, the afternoon having passed and the evening quickly rolling by.

"Vi and I will sleep here with Vander. You take Isha with you for a nice bath and a soft bed."

You nod at Jinx, and although it takes a bit more time to coax the little girl into coming with Silco and you, she eventually does. So you close up shop and bid goodnight to the two girls already holding their father close, a soft yet sad smile growing on your face, watered by the bittersweetness of the moment.

Isha holds your hand as you walk back home, jumping up and down yet slowing down until she comes to a stop, exhaustion overtaking her after such an eventful day.

"Come on darling, let's get some rest yeah?" She nods, your arms slipping around her as you carry her the rest of the way.

You wake her up for a bath, draping the girl in one of your shirts for the night, way too big for her tiny frame. And soon enough after both you and Silco were done with your routines you all got in bed. Isha softly held between the two of you, one of your hands cradling her to your chest and the other brushing through your friend's luscious, salt and pepper locks, sometimes switching so you can scratch at his scalp.

"You're good with children." His soft voice echoes in the dark room.

"I just give them what they deserve. What I haven't been given at their age. In Zaun a little goes a long way."

"Yet you go above and beyond, for children and adults alike."

"We all need respite, why deny kindness when it costs nothing?"

He chuckles, the arm over you and Isha tightening its grip at your waist. The one in your hair moving to caress his knuckles at your cheek for a moment.

"Thank you, for Vander, for Jinx. For everything."

"No thanks are needed. You're my friend Silco" You lie, yet the affection in your words is as true as it can be. "I would go to the ends of Runeterra if you so asked."

Your eyes grow heavy, head sinking deeper into your pillow as words are whispered to you, undecypherable because of the exhaustion putting your mind at rest.

The next morning you wake up to the sight of Isha holding a tray with a big smile on her face, Silco in tow with your mug in hand unwilling to let the girl hold hot liquid.

It all felt so homely, that you couldn't stop two tears from sliding down your cheeks.

Wiping at your face you joke that you cry sometimes when you're tired and kiss the child on the forehead, laying the tray on your legs as you sit up. Looking at the hearty breakfast then to the two people standing near you, Isha coming to curl up at your side while Silco sits by your legs.

"She insisted on bringing this up to you."

"Not you?" You tease, nodding in gratitude as you take the hot cup from him, humming at the aroma and taste of coffee.

"Should I start then, my dove? Mh?"

You nearly choke on the hot beverage in your hands and go to stuff your face, hoping to Janna he cannot see your blushing face in the dim room.

You learn that even though she can speak, Isha is indeed very persuasive and insistent. Taking your empty tray downstairs with a bounce in her step as she pointed to your small wardrobe with a jokingly stern look, probably excited to see Jinx again.

You pick breakfast on the way, and hesitate on what to get Vander. His new form far from human which makes you doubt anything concerning his eating habits, so you pick up something similar than for the rest of you hoping to Janna it'll fit him.

Breakfast is shared with everyone huddled in the back room, Isha cuddling Jinx and signing excitedly, probably to explain how her evening went. And your doubts seem confirmed when Jinx looks at you incredulously, whispering to her sister from the side while she hides her mouth from view. You roll your eyes jokingly and spare them a desperate pointed stare as Violet chokes on her pastry, Vander huffing as his ears pick up what is said.

"What are they planning?"

"You don't wanna know, Sil." The three girls laugh. "Trust me."

"I think I do."

"No you don't you fossil, now stop swirling your coffee mysteriously before I drink it myself."

"You wouldn't, it's too bitter."

"Don't try me."

Soon enough Vander is covered back with the tarp, fabric hiding his monstrous form. Violet puts on her gauntlets, Jinx holds Isha's hand and you all get out, Silco and you closing up shop.

The way to the Sump is not all that long, your small hole in the wall community being very near the limits of the Entresol level. Though the labyrinth of the lowest level is another story, the thin corridors nearing a prison sentence are hard to navigate through with the man-beast's hulking form, the group following you as you expertly make your way through the sullen streets. Filled to the brim with those who had less than nothing, the only reason they keep going being faith in Janna's return and her blessings.

"Excuse me, we wish to find the healer, I believe they call him the Herald. Would you be so kind to guide us?"

The small, frail woman you kneeled in front of trains her eyes to you, slowly, exhausted from hunger and the cold. You hand her a pastry, having bought extras to give to those in the Sump, and a handful of coins. Not quite bribing her, more like delivering a counter offer for her help.

She takes your hand with her shaky ones, and with soot draws a small map. The lines are scribbled, the map nearly unreadable, but as she puts down a couple of landmarks your brain ticks in understanding.

"Thank you ma'am. If you ever need help, come to my shop, it's near the Sump entrance on the east of the Entresol. Just ask for me."

You tell her your name and that she can spread the information to as many people as she can. A small, tired smile lights up her sunken face and she holds your shoulders gently, caressing them before letting you return to your group.

As you travel deeper into the Sump the tension within the group grows, not knowing what to expect of the Herald yet wishing to the Gods that he would be able to help.

On the way there you give the last of your pastries to some of the poor fellows down there, repeating what you had said to the woman so that they know they have a safe space to run to if they want it. And time passes, walking through the foul sump smelling streets, metallic groans and cries of pain haunting the very air you breathe, until the buildings become sparse.

As they become sparse you observe the way Isha clings to Jinx who is by Vander's side, Violet on the other, revelling at the sight of the family.

"Why don't you join them, Silco?" You ask softly, eyes trailing to the man walking next to you, steadfast in his position by your side since you offered him a new chance at life.

"They deserve to be a family, I'm the reason the girls lost their parents and even Vander, I hurt Jinx and Violet got imprisoned because of me. It wouldn't feel right."

"Yet you're Vander's brother and Jinx's father. You have as much of a place in this family as any of them."

"I think the only place I have left in this world is by your side."

You bite your cheek, a sigh escaping your lips as if it needed to leave you, to run away. You couldn't stop your heart from rushing everytime he talked to you so solemnly, looking at you as if you hung up the moon. Those words never helped, they made everything so much worse in fact.

This man had found his family once more.

You tell yourself.

He will leave even if he says otherwise.

You reason.

At least you try to, cutting your delusions down as you always do, knowing they'll come back with a revenge but unwilling to deal with them at the moment. They always do around him. His tender care like soil to the fragile seed of your heart, providing warmth and growth, his affection like the sun and the rain feeding your soul.

Around you the buildings make themselves sparce, the thin space of the ravine opening up to a clearing. The space in front of you which you knew to be filled with quaint tents to some inhabitants of the Sump now...a commune?

The sun shined down upon it from breaks in Piltover's metal plating over Zaun, like the Celestials shone down upon this small bit of paradise in the bedrock. What was the most surprising was not the organic shapes of the buildings, white like carved marble and ornate with gold and stained glass, although it was the second on your list. No, it was the field surrounding the small town.

Plants growing in the Undercity.

In the chemical soil, ruined by the upperside's arrogance, watered by toxic waters ruined by experimentations and so called "progress", grew flowers and grass, and you would wager food too if this commune was as self sufficient as it looked.

And it was beautiful.

Even more so as you approached, the grandeur of the place seeping into your bones, warth feeling you as you see...happiness. The crowd coming in along side you filled with hope.

"Vi. I hoped you might return."

Says a man in white, a member of the commune if you could judge by the way he was dressed and by the strange gilded scars on his face. But for all the man's gentleness, Vi stepped forward, tension and agression shaking her very being like you when you first saw her again.

"You filthy traitor."

"Yes, that was me at my worst. Simply awful." He glosses over her rage, acknowledging his past mistakes with nonchalance and welcoming other Zaunites into the gates. "But the Herald has freed me of my past self. He has given me a chance to make amends."

His voice softly fills the air, your body tense at the sheer spectacle of the place, his words heard yet not quite as engrained in you as the sight of heaven within hell.

"All are welcome but I must ask you to surrender your weapons, this is a place of peace."

Your fingers twitch at your side, gaze snapping at him, Vi and Jinx also disgruntled at the words the man just uttered. When you look to your right to find Silco, you find him looking quite similarly to you. Asking a Zaunite to surrender their means of protection was a big inquiry, yet as your eyes trailed to the commune, you can't help but sigh.

Your hands reach beneath your big coat, noxian blades unsheathing and stabbing them in the ground. You are surrendering only this much of your own comfort, Vander is important but you are still a Sumper and a Zaunite and grew up solely in violence. You aren't giving away your tools, and neither are you giving away the dagger currently brushing against your fingers in your jacket's pocket.

Jinx looks at you then at the greeter, her gun suddenly trained on him, the familiar hextech glow shining from within it. But then Violet abandons her gauntlets, the heavy machines slipping from her hands and smashing onto the ground, nodding at you as you follow her in.

You trust that the others would follow.

And they do.

Jinx gives away her gun, keeping the crystal that was stored within it, and Silco gives away two daggers. You smirk at him, knowing that the man was hiding at the very least three more on his person, and he gives you an innocent look. It turns into the usual self satisfied grin as he reaches you.

"Sneaky bastard."

"You're one to talk, minx."

The greeter takes your group to a hill in the commune, no one in the streets minding Vander until you pass by a blacksmith, the man quenching some hot metal and the noise agitating the beast. Yet no one seems to mind him, even as the tarp falls down, nothing but complete gentleness and understanding filling the gazes of the commune's inhabitants, albeit surprised at Vander's appearance.

You soon make your way to a hill, covered in sand and housing a singular, spheric building, from which comes out a man.

The Herald.

And for all of the praise you've heard about him, nothing could have prepared you for how...Ethereal he looked. Body metallic and purple, gilded in certain spots, lithe and tall while it's held up by his iridescent scepter. Yet his face still very human, gentle, the cheeks softly sunken in, his eyes like oilspills and his long hair greying from beneath.

"We hear you can heal people." Is all Vi says before the Herald steps forward, eyes trained on Vander as he stretches his hand towards the beast.

From besides you, you feel Silco moving, his hands already reaching for the hidden daggers he kept on himself.

"Silco, no."

And as you hold his hand, he tenses, the movement fully stopping at your ministration. He sighs and shakes his head in surrender.

That's when the healer reaches Vander, a swift instant passing where purple energy comes from his chest and spreads towards his outstretched hand on Vander's head. Then the man crumbles, seemingly in a daze.

"He is worth the risk." Resounds the Herald's accented, gentle yet almost mechanical voice.

He helps himself up, but as you think his analysis is done, he steps towards Silco, his hand taking the eyepatch away from your friend whose hand is already gripping yours tightly.

"Silco, it is...Strange, to see you here. As much as it isn't. No one truly seems to die anymore, do they?"

Says the healer, a hand outstretched towards your friend before Silco snatches his, his eyes widening, seemingly staring through your friend's soul.

"I'll be fine. We came here for Vander."

"Your eye is infected."

"It is my burden alone to bear, boy. There are more pressing matters at hand."

And the regal man steps back, a soft smile on his face as his eyes trail to you, twinkling with something unknown.

He leads you to a fountain, explaining how he saw within Vander's mind, his dreams, aspirations for Zaun and memories, described the affection the man felt for all of the three important people now reunited with him.

"Can you help him." Vi asks urgently as you set yourself next to her.

"I will do all in my power. However I have one condition."

"Looks like you got a couple." Jinx mumbles teasingly as she stops walking around the fountain.

"You have much to offer this commune..Powder."

Everyone looks at him, surprised at his knowledge of her birth name yet the word cementing his capabilities as true in all of your minds, the girl dropping a coin in the water out of shock.

"Your talents can be used to build instead of destroy." He reaches into the water for the metal circle.

"...I'll stick with what I know..Thanks."

"My condition is that he must be restrained at night. I've seen the harm of which he is capable."

Time passes and Violet looks to her sister.

"What do you think?"

"You...actually want my opinion?" The girl mutters to herself before sighing, getting off the fountain and taking Isha with her.

"I hate fortune cookies."

Violet bids goodbye to Vander and you let Silco do the same, the man holding his friend in a way you would he wish with you. Tightly, with abandon, his body melting into the embrace.

"Good luck, Herald. See you later, Vander." You nod your own farewell, tapping the beast on the shoulder as you walk away, going your own way. The events of the previous day, of the previous year even, catching up to you.

You find yourself welcomed by the inhabitants of the commune, your stomach full and thirst quenched as you walk past homes, the sound of happy chatter and giggling children filling the air. Your body firstly leading you to the blacksmith from earlier, asking to stay and help to occupy yourself, empty your mind of the whirlwind of thoughts finally breaking the dam you've imposed on yourself.

Soon enough, Vander's psyche would be healed, his body impossible to salvage as you had feared. Silco would probably return to him, possibly to his daughter now that she had healed, and perhaps even Violet would join them, Isha obviously coming as a package deal with the younger sister. That's what your mind told you, no matter how much it seemed like Silco would stay, no matter how much he acted like he wouldn't or said he'd be by your side, you doubted him.

And you hated it.

But it was impossible for your mind to change. You grew up, shackled like a feral animal, sent to the pit with no empathy. Whether you died or not didn't matter as long as you put up a good show and racked money. You saw other children die, day by day, you saw men and women bloodied on the ground as your hands clawed at the ground, nails caked in their flesh and the sand from the arena. And months passed, years passed, the red forever staining your hands in your mind's eye, and to escape you had to kill again. Rage overtaking your body as you ripped through skin, flesh and bone; you made a carnage, worse than any you've made in the pit. Survival bubbling with unrestrained anger as you left the premises silent. No spectators, no adversaries, no ring leader, no staff. Just metallic smelling, foul silence; the sound of death.

Yet as you dragged your body to the Entresol you could still hear a combination of elated yells and pained screams, bouncing around your head. And so you became louder than them.

You were taken in, and started working hard. Finding jobs louder than the previous one until you landed on the art of smithing. Loud enough to cover the screams, respected enough that you would be left alone, and social enough that you could help people.

And that is how you lived.

Hot metal beaten day in and day out, helping those in need. Yet you saw it all too quickly that you left one hell for another. Maybe you didn't have to kill everyday to survive, but you saw how Piltover treated Zaun, even how fellow Zaunites treated their own. Sitting on piled up riches made from death and hardwork while they remained lazy and self-righteous, working towards their own progress and not yours.

That's when your blood boiled again, disappointed at how the world was for those at the bottom. So you remembered. Remembered of those stories of miners uniting in a band of misfits, fighting back against the status quo. The Children of Zaun were the only reason you fought back in the pit, the only reason you even dared live, and the reason why you eventually escape.

You wanted to see the Nation of Zaun they were speaking of, wanted to work with them towards achieving it and hoping it would be your repentance for all of the blood you've shed.

And even if tragedy had struck and they had disbanded, you believed in their dream. So when you saw exactly why they dared what they had, you understood all too quickly.

Their vigor, their arrogance..it all made sense. And even if the movement was dead, you would be lying if you said that fighting back wasn't an idea that ate at you. So you did, and eventually it all culminated in you meeting Silco.

Your childhood hero, the driving force behind your own solitary fight. And even if he had fucked up, like hell you were going to let a Zaunite, let alone him, die. Not on your watch.

And you were glad you helped, you were glad you believed. Because beneath the ice cold façade, you saw it. The miner boy who grew to have a dream of freeing his people from oppression, the boy who grew to become a man of action and who got so hurt that his pain led him astray. Focusing his energy into his dream while forgoing the rest, including the very reason he fought.

It felt sweet to know you helped him.

If only these pesky feelings didn't get in the way, turning your friendship into a one way longing, growing into what you feared to be love. Yet as much as you loved him, you couldn't help to fear his departure, knowing a man like this would never settle for something like you. You shared so much in common, his affection so very true.

It just felt impossible for your feelings to be reciprocated.

He was the first person you let in this close, and you feared that even unknowingly he'd rip at your heart.

Days were spent in your own head smithing away and delivering around the commune, coming back in the evening and sharing a meal with your little group. Violet and Jinx seemingly growing closer, Isha included in their banter, Vander growing calmer and his eyes more gentle, Silco more relaxed yet his eyes looking so far away from here.

You shared a room, single bed, and when you looked at the Herald he had this glint in his eyes again. Yet you couldn't be anymore happy that he did. Knowing that you'd be getting no sleep without the soft scratching on your scalp and you scratching on Silco's. His soft hair flowing through your fingers like river water.

"You're not supposed to work."

He grumbles every night.

"If I stay here and don't help, I'll feel guilty."

You always answer back and he sighs, bringing you closer. The drum of his heart against your cheek enough to lull you to sleep.

Today is a day just like any other, where you share breakfast with Silco before going away, leaving him with his daughter and her sisters, Vander soon to be visited by the four of them.

"You work hard, I have to thank you for that." Your name is spoken so softly you nearly miss it under the sound of hammers on metal. Wiping your forehead with a rag you greet the Herald.

"Well, I couldn't bear the thought of staying here for free. Trenchers need to help one another, it's one of the rules."

"Walk with me?"

You look at him confused, then to the two men working alongside you. They smile, nodding to the healer before you step away and towards him, following wherever he needed to go.

"I actually had something to ask of you, Herald, if you'll hear me."

"Of course, what is it?"

"You have many plants here, I wish to take back some to a friend. We're working on an antidote for S-" You bite your lip and sigh.

"For Silco's infection. It's getting worse isn't it?" You nod dejectedly.

"We saw that sap from plants growing in Zaun, mixed with shimmer, could stop his infection. Moss doesn't make nearly enough, and here you grow so many different kinds of plants that...I wished to ask to take some to Samira."

"You may take as much as you need."

You freeze, stopping in your tracks.

"As easy as that?"

"I would have said yes anyways because of your noble intentions but you have been helping the commune, think of it as payment."

He settles himself on a rock overlooking the small slice of paradise he built and you sit next to him, slumping on your knees with your head in your hands.

"You're already doing more than enough for Vander and all of us, I think I'm the one repaying you."

He hums.

"Let's call it a mutually beneficial arrangement, then." You chuckle.

"You're stubborn."

"So are you, helping a man like Silco back on the right path is no easy feat, but you've accomplished it."

"I saved him because of admiration, he stayed because he proved himself capable of change and healing. All he has now is because he worked hard for it, I simply helped."

He chuckles and his cold hand finds yours, patting it gently, the metal feeting heavier despite his ease of movement.

"You're a healer, but do you know anything about applied magic?"

"What do you mean?" His face tilts.

"Something else Samira and I have discovered is that, a hex crystal like this." You hold up the blue marble after fishing it from your pocket. "Can enhance the serum's efficiency. Yet we don't know how to harness it. I've made a machine but I don't know runes for the life of me. Going up to Piltover would be way too dangerous especially since the only person left knowledgeable about runes has disappeared..."

The man freezes besides you, gripping his staff tighter before he slumps, your body turns towards him as he looks at you.

"Show me this machine. Can you write the blueprint for me?"

You nod and get up only to kneel on the ground, picking a tool from your many pouches as you draw shapes after shapes. Arches and annotations following one another in a nearly frenzied scribble.

"The centrifuge force exerced by the machine to mix the serum plus the crystal's energy yield better results than something done by hand, yet I know from previous encounters that Hextech has runes. I may not be a scientist but the stone is the energy source, the machine is the catalyst...yet all that without instructions is useless for optimal results, right?"

He kneels next to you, observing all that you had carved in the sand, one hand holding his chin as his eyes swirl in color. A small excited smile making its way to his face.

"This is genius." He mumbles. "And you've had no real experience in making Hextech before?"

"None, I'm a simple blacksmith." He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

"There is nothing simple about this. You have engeneered an entirely new machine, from nothing with no previous knowledge of magic...Yes, of course I will help you."

"You know runes? I mean you're obviously a mage but..."

"How could I not, when I have fathered half of what has made the inspiration for all of this?" His hand shows your blueprint.

And silence rings loudly between the two of you and your eyes widened.

No one truly seems to die anymore, do they?

You remember him saying that the first day in the commune. And now you understood just how true it was. The man in front of you was the Zaunite who made it to the academy in Piltover, the one who Jayce Talis spoke so fondly of as his partner.

This was..

"Viktor."

You mumble, remembering his name from mourning his incredible mind that had been burried under Piltover's arrogance. No Zaunite could make it there, even one as amazing as him.

He nods and smiles, his eyes filled with sadness yet as they trail to your schematic it's replaced with determination. Your small notebook quickly taken from its place in one of your pouches, a pencil following it as you get ready to take notes.

He described runes to you, their effects and you two theorized which ones would be better for the job, which ones would work better together. And as the morning bled into the afternoon, the young Herald seemed less holy and more human. His usual poise and calm melting into excitement, ideas brightening his eyes, calculations and explanations flowing from his mouth, punctuated by his accent. One you could hear so much down here.

You could see in him, how he's made it so far as a scientist. His passion was unrivalled, the fire in his soul unable to be tamed and only growing stronger the more he learned about the world.

He was a good man.

A great man.

And he did all he could to help, no matter what it cost him.

So you took great care to listen, quipping in whenever you could when you couldn't understand, when you felt like you could add onto the discussion, and he seemed happier each time you did.

Soon you decide that you've worked enough, Viktor needing to return to Vander, and you home. Feeling exhausted from the way you've been pushing yourself. The man gets up and extends a hand towards you, slowly wrapping his fingers around yours as you let him help you up. You make a detour towards the green house so you can pick a few bulbous plants, full with enough sap that Samira could experiment for a while before you had to come back for more. You will give them to her tomorrow.

"Silco is lucky to have someone like you."

You groan.

"Please stop, everyone is saying shit like that and I cannot deal with it. He's found his family again, I'll be old news soon enough."

"I do not think so."

"Why?" You turn to him, an inquisitive look glazing your eyes along with the barely contained longing and Viktor has the gall to chuckle.

"You'll see soon enough. You have been avoiding him, haven't you?"

"I'm..Trying to stop all of these.." You gesture to your chest frantically, though your tone is calmer, yet filled to the brim with unsaid emotions. "..Feelings. I don't want to get hurt if he leaves and I don't want to take his friendship for granted. He deserves better."

"If, he leaves."

"If or when...I don't know, I would hope not but I'm not used to being cared for, to having something really good and not just...Whatever it is that my life always does."

"He won't, don't worry about that. But you will have to mention it sometime soon. Avoiding him will only make it worse, absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say, or it'll hurt the both of you. Take the rest of your time here off, please, I insist."

You sigh and nod at him, eyes trained towards the entrance to the commune as you see flashes of red. Noxian warriors, posted at the gate in their armors, the woman you know as General Ambessa talking to the Huck, the greeter from your first day here, talking to her.

"Viktor?"

"I can see."

"That bitch."

You didn't know the woman personally yet from all of what you've heard, Piltover's dictature was imposed under her watchful eye. Always in the back, planning, killing, manipulating; for what exactly, you didn't know. But you knew enough to understand that her being here isn't just out of the goodness of her heart. Especially after her army had killed and attacked so many of your people over the last year, your hands covered in enough of their warrior blood from defending Zaun. Your weapons, stolen from them, a tribute to your hatred at their belligenrency.

"The doctor.."

Whispers the Herald, a green figure clashing against the Noxian red.

"Go back to Vander, if Ambessa's here I'm sure only misery will follow."

"Very well, do stay safe."

"You too Viktor, take care."

The man nods and the sound of his cane behind you slowly fades away.

You spare one last hate fuelled glare to the gate before entering the tent. Silco is waiting for you there, eyes somber as he gazes at you.

"Out with the Herald, dove?"

"He had insight on the machine Samira and I are working on, he also let me take some of the plants for the sap." You sigh, sitting near him and he grunts.

"I know Sil, you're mad at me for not resting."

"Indeed."

You take his hand in yours.

"The Herald told me to rest, non negociable. I'll be with you the rest of our time here."

He relaxes, a soft sigh escaping him as his other hand undoes his bun, the locks flowing around his shoulders

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Thought you'd prefer to spend time with your family."

"You are a part of it, dove."

You chuckle and shake your head.

"Come on now, I'm your friend yes, but family?"

"You are." His eyes grow more gentle. "Why do you keep on insisting that you matter less than you do?"

Your gaze slips from his and he holds your chin to bring it back.

"Why?"

"Because I know you'll leave when Vander's back for good. Jinx is here, Vander is here, Violet too. You have no reason to stay anymore. I knew you could leave anytime before but I guess I just chalked it to you not wanting to be alone. To you respecting me and being grateful. But now that all you've ever wanted is in the palm of your hand, there isn't much I could bring you."

He stands up, the hand holding your chin tilting your head up to follow his movement.

"Do you think so little of yourself?"

You startle. Expecting him to say "do you think so little of me", yet he pinpoints the source of all of this. You don't doubt him, you doubt yourself. Your usefulness. Your worth to him.

"I do."

His face all but crumples, pain evident in his features.

"For how long."

"Long enough. You can't blame someone that has never had anything good for feeling like they'll lose it all in the blink of an eye."

"For Janna's sake, I'm not blaming you. I'm not leaving. What else should I tell you to make you believe that I'll stay? I love Vander and Jinx, I care for Violet even after everything, yet it's not my place anymore."

Your breathing becomes shallow and you blink back tears, frantically fluttering your eyelashes before you squeeze them shut to force the tears away.

"What do you want Silco, really. I'm just, confused."

"What is there to be confused about? Have I not made my stance on this clear enough?"

"Perhaps not. I don't know what could help, I'm sorry Sil."

You did, yet you knew it would never come. This conversation was teetering on an edge you'd rather not cross because you know that you'd fall into an abyss of torment if you did.

I love you.

Those are the words you desperately wanted to hear, the thought of them squeezing your heart tight from within your chest.

"Look at me."

You breathe shakily, lower lashes covered in thick tears as the hand grabbing your chin suddenly shifts to cradle your face.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know."

To be alone again. Without anyone close, anyone that knows the true me. Without you. Because I love you so much it hurts me to think of living without you by my side.

"Stop lying."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you hiding from me?" He calls out desperately, voice so soft you'd think he was talking to a terrified animal.

Your jaw sets, trying to regain control.

Then a loud, booming sound rings through the quaint town.

And the gentle silence of the evening changes into an echoing scream of pain, parasited by high pitched screeches that shook you to your core. You push yourself from Silco's grasp to rush outside.

Everybody is dropping like flies.

The gilded marks on their faces glowing as they drop boneless, mouths opened wide. No matter where you go, everyone is the same. And then there is the sound of marching, red flags and black armors shining in the dimming light as you make your way through the commune. Disgust filling your throat and anger bubbling beneath your skin as you see Noxians set their warpath into this place of safety and peace.

So you go to Huck's, silently appologizing to Viktor as you take back the weapons he had asked you to surrender. Silco hot on your trail taking his own daggers back. Your panicked rushing making it impossible for you to sheathe your weapons.

"Let's go get Vander and the others, quick!"

He nods and you sniffle as you run to the greenhouse, wiping at your tears with your sleeves before nearly crumbling at the sight in front of you.

Vander was...bleeding. Fire and magma escaping him instead of hemoglobin, growling and screaming as he frantically moves. Violet is standing near Caitlyn, which surprises you because of how much she's done to your people over the past year. Jinx is protecting Isha, one hand keeping the child away from the horrific sight and a Noxian warrior is posted near the man-beast, ready to fight.

Near you, you see Ambessa and her troops within the confines of the commune watching whom you could only theorize as the Kiramman girl, with sheer anger. Betrayal barely masked behind the ugliness of her rage.

The sight behind Vander was just as shocking, Viktor's home is broken. Bits of the stone and stained glass floating in the air as the sky darkens.

Your observation is cut short when Vander attacks the Noxian, beating the man to death with such a vicious ferocity you could only describe him as a monster.

That is when all hell breaks loose.

Ambessa delivers a war cry before she and her troops rush forward to Vander and the girls.

"Come on!" Silco screams, panicked and you follow him, heading straight into the fray.

"Go get the girls! I'll hold them back!"

"No!"

"Do as you're told Silco or there will be no more family to return to!"

Your body shakes in terror and your tears finally escape you freely, this could be the last time you see him. This could be the last time you see him, talk to him, feel him.

So you rush to Silco, your fear of losing him in war stronger than the fear of him leaving you. He reaches for you and your lips meet, the man wobbling back at the force of your embrace, breaths mingling and lips entertwining in a depserate kiss.

When you push back from him his good eye is wide open, the teal ocean cooling the raging blaze of your fears and the orange iris filling you with confident warmth.

"We'll talk later. Don't die out there, or I'll kill you."

And that's when you find yourself surrounded by Noxians, rushing into battle as Vander swipes madly and snarls, your attack not all too dissimilar from his. Desperation, anger, loss, all boiling into a dangerous culmination. Adrenalin stopping you from feeling the pain delivered to you by Ambessa's men as you cut and smash through them, doing as much damage as you can in the presence of a platoon.

Cut, cut, smash, cut, smash. You barely even think to defend yourself, preferring to act like a second distraction so your group could leave, escape, live.

Tears carve through the blood covering your face, your angry snarls nearly as terrifying as Vander's as you fight. In fear at those whom you care about dying, in fear at your dream of a free Zaun crumbling, in anger at how those people had stolen Vander's second chance at life.

Yet through the noise, all the screaming and fighting, you could hear Jinx's voice.

"Isha!"

Turning your head you see her reaching towards Vander, Violet holding her back, Isha under the beast with the blue haired girl's gun glowing bright blue.

Your lungs burn as you scream her name.

Your legs burn as you rush forward.

Your body burns from all the cuts and hits you've been dealt.

Your eyes burn as Silco calls out to you, his voice full of fear and panic, breaking in a way you've never heard before, even less from him.

But you don't stop.

As you push through hordes of Noxians, the weapon glows brighter and brighter, the girl holding it up towards Vander, her other hand shooting towards Jinx as she smiles at her.

And before the worst happens, you reach her.

You take the gun and you throw her away towards Silco, smiling tearfully as you see him scambling towards the child. And it's when you see him rush towards you next that everything goes black.

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[yamumsyadadd]

The forgotten girl (13)

Relief washed over me once I got home. As hard as it was to tell Alexia what truly happened, it also felt good. I knew I had to tell Leah, Keira and Lucy. Keira would be easy enough, I would write it all down and give it to her. Lucy would be mad as hell, not at me but at them. Leah would cry or just shut down. 

After having a quick shower and doing the rest of my nighttime routine, I decided now would be the best time to call Leah. I was on a roll.

She answered on the first ring, “Milly? Are you ok?” 

“Yeah lee, I’m okay I just want to talk to you about something. Something that happened that night. If you can’t talk now that’s okay, but I want to be honest with you.”

“Yeah no of course. Go ahead, I’m listening.” 

I spilled it all. I tired not to go into too much detail about it because i didn’t want to scar her too badly. By the end of it, we were both crying. Neither of us said anything for a while, just processing the information. 

“I, ah, I haven’t told Keira, or Lucy.” 

“Thank you for telling me. Have you told anyone else?”

“Alexia.”

“Oh?”

“That’s the next time I wanted to talk about.”

“Go on….”

“We are going on a date tomorrow. Just a coffee date before training.” 

“Right…” I knew she wanted to say more. 

Sighing loudly, “Say it Leah.” 

“Don’t let her rush you into this. Do this on your timeline Amelia. I know you’ve been in love with her for ages but you need to not rush it.” 

“Leah I know. She knows. We agreed to take things slow, things will move on my timeline, not hers.” 

“Okay. Does Keira know?” 

“No. I haven’t told anyone but you. Just keep it quiet ok?”

“Yea yea. Okay. Listen I gotta go. I love you, tell me how it goes yeah?” 

“Night lee. Love you too.” 

One down, two to go. 

Finally sleep was welcomed by me, the warm fuzziness of my bedding lulled me right to sleep. It was a dreamless sleep, but when I woke up I was extremely well rested. It was such a good sleep that from the minute I got out of bed, I kept thinking how good it would be to go back to bed tonight. 

Alexis and I agreed to the cafe around the corner from my apartment, 2 hours before training. I know she thought that was an insanely long amount of time, but I knew she liked being there an hour early and since she was my ride, I wouldn’t make her change her routine. 

As I arrived at the cafe, I took the booth at the very back. We’d have some privacy without people stopping for photos or to talk to us. I sat nervously picking at my fingers, so far in my own head that I didn’t hear the bell above the door or even notice her until she was standing above me. 

“Oh shit, hi!” A smiled, getting up to hug her. 

“Are you ok?” Concern riddled her voice, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yeah no I’m, um, I’m nervous?” 

“I’m nervous too Mil. Really really nervous.”

The first fifteen minutes were awkward but after that, it felt like old times. Conversation flowed, we laughed, she held my hand. There was no reason to be nervous, after all it was just Lex. 

“We should go.” I said after she finished her story about Alba. Confusion was evident on her face, “you like to be at training an hour early so we should go now so you can.” 

“It’s ok. I’m ok to be late you know.” 

“I know Lex. But I also know you like your routines and you strive on them so vamos!” 

The walk to her car was silent, she was stewing over something. The drive to the facility was much the same, the radio faintly playing. Occasionally when I looked over, I noticed her gripping the wheel very hard. As soon as we pulled up to the facility, she looked like she was about to bolt. 

“Alexia. Stop.” I grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving the car. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Talk to me, please.”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m boring.” 

“What?” 

“My routines. I have them yes, I enjoy them. But I don’t want you to think that I prefer my routines over you. Because I don’t. I would get rid of all of them if you asked me too.” 

“Oh ale.” I cupped her face to make her look at me, “I love all of you. I love your routines, because they make you calm, they help you be the best. The best person, the best player and the best captain. I love all your little quirks and your insecurities. I love them all because I love you. So no, I don’t want you to get rid of your routines, and I don’t think you’re boring. Hell I’d follow you around like a puppy if you wanted.” 

She chuckled, “I would follow you too.” 

With that settled we made our way inside, her hand in mine with my thumb rubbing her hand. I sat down and watched Lex get herself ready. I always admired it, the way she had everything perfectly done, she was in control. With some encouragement from me that I was fine alone in the change rooms, she kissed my forehead and left to continue her routine. 

Slowly the girls started pouring in and I started getting ready. Keira, Lucy and Ona were the last ones in. 

“Her car isn’t in the car park and she didn’t text me. Maybe she said something to Ale?” Keira was always a worrier. She hid it well from the outside world but not from her teammates or friends. 

“Relax Kei, maybe she’s just running late.” Lucy was usually the more calm one of the pair. 

“Who is running late?” I piped up from behind them. 

“Amel-“ Keira started, “how did you get here? Your car isn’t here? You didn’t text me?” She engulfed me in a hug, as if I’d been missing for 3 years. 

“ relax Kei. Ale drove me here. We had coffee this morning.” Unbeknownst to me, Mapi, Keira and Lucy all shared a look.

Keira, Lucy and I all walked towards the gym together. “Do you think we can get dinner tomorrow? Take out at mine?” looking weirdly at me but agreeing nonetheless. 

Training went by in a blur. We had a game coming up this weekend against Athletico Madrid. I took my time after training, knowing that Lex had her own routine and I was happy to just scroll through my phone. 

“Amelia, you need a lift?” 

“No-“

“I’m taking her, thanks Marta.” Alexia interrupted, giving Marta a smile before she left. 

“I’m sorry for taking so long Mil. I will-“

“You will do nothing expect keep your routine going. I don’t care how long I have to wait. If I did I would’ve left with Keira or Marta.” I stood up and cupped her face, “I promise, you keep doing you.” 

I kissed her gently, which turned into a fight for dominance. We stopped before it got too heated, on account of being in the locker room and taking it slow. I sat back down and continued to scroll through my phone, trying to show Alexia that I didn’t care how long she took, it didn’t work. 

After 10 minutes of her “not rushing”, she grabbed both our bags and flung them over her shoulder, then grabbed my hand and walked us to the car. The car ride was spent talking about nonsense, things that really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of life but it was nice. As we pulled up to my apartment she started fiddling with her whoop, I took the chance to speak up. 

“Yes I will go on another date with you. Does Sunday lunch after our game work? I know you have family dinner on Sunday night.” 

“We can do dinner on Sunday if that’s what your would prefer? It’s okay-“

“Stop. If lunch works for you, then it works for me. You’re going to dinner with your family Ale.” I smiled at her and she nodded her head.“Lunch it is then, I know a place so I’ll text you the address on Sunday. Thank you for driving me home and for coffee. Goodnight Ale.” I kissed her cheek, grabbed my bag and got out. Not bothering to turn back because if I did, I would’ve invited her upstairs, but we are taking things slow. 

Almost painfully slow. 

[butwhatifidothis]

I guess the ultimate thing that kills CF for me - or at least nudges it away from me saying I definitively like it - is just how much Edelgard is clearly written with the player in mind before she's written with her character in mind.

Because on all of the other routes, there's a power to Edelgard's presence. Even on BE, there's a sense that for as lonely as Edelgard might be, she still ultimately will do whatever it takes for her to get what she wants. Be that be killing her citizens (or otherwise letting them be killed), endangering her friends, assisting in kidnapping people, allowing Byleth to support her only when they have the Sword of the Creator, covering for TWS - no bar is too low for her to limbo under if doing so means she's even a step closer to her goals.

She's manipulative! She's deceitful! She doesn't care for the lives of her people! Even her friends are forfeit if they try to stand in her way! And this happens no matter how close you, the player, get to her, in the case of BE - C+ ain't stoppin' Remire, and going to the coronation ain't stopping the Holy Tomb.

And in the war phase, she is dominating the field. She has the Kingdom completely on the ropes, down to a few houses standing against Imperial rule, and the Alliance is stuck in neutrality - she may not be able to do much to it, but neither can they do anything to her (to say nothing of the Alliance houses who stand with her). She's far from the underdog in this race, and she shows off how threatening she can be.

CF? Her route?

She scweams at scawy rats. She gets embawwassed when you find her dwawings. She's just so wonewy, and she's just so gwad that you chose her. She somehow fails to capture Rhea, or frame Dimitri for regicide, and so now has to deal with that on the Kingdom's side of the war. But that doesn't stop Elly Welly-kins fwom twying to find her pwecious teacher, because you're just so important to her. She cwies and hugs you when you meet her in the Goddess Tower!! Because she missed you so much!!

It's like... Dimitri and Claude certainly show different sides of themselves on their respective routes. It's the whole point! You grow closer to them and thus see how they treat those close to them, as opposed to being the Kinda Neat Teacher they see run along every now and then. But, like... Claude doesn't become a blushing maiden whenever Byleth speaks with him on VW. Dimitri doesn't scream at scary rats and get called cute for it on AM. They don't get Basic Bitch Gap Moe Traits slapped onto them that are only ever shown to the player and only on their routes. Unlike Edelgard.

Dimitri's endearing trait is that he's this big huge dude who can bench-press forests and arm-wrestle god who still wants to learn to sew and who teaches kids to protect themselves and who buys candies for his friends. Claude's endearing trait is that he's this mastermind planner who has contingency and lie and obfuscation as three separate legal government names who still wants everyone to be safe and happy and hold hands and be friends.

Edelgard is strong, confident, and willing to do some of the shittiest things known to man for her goals. Her endearing trait is that her screams are cute. She's shy about her drawings of the player character. She blushes over the player potentially joking about having sex with her per her JPN version of her C support; you know, the one about how Byleth walks in on Edelgard muttering in her sleep from a nightmare about her tortured family? Perfect time to joke about fucking her! Dimitri and Claude's endearments are, well, endearing; Edelgard's are all straight up embarrassing for her.

Hell, even the smaller stuff is affected! Claude's passion for poisons and mushrooms are things he has no qualms about having others know about, despite how weird they are. Dimitri laughing at shitty jokes brings him no personal discomfort or embarrassment, despite just how loudly he laughs at them. They have traits to them that can easily be uwu worthy, and they don't care! Of the lords, only Edelgard does! Because, it feels like, the only way for a strong, resolute female character to come off as approachable is if she's knocked down a few pegs for specifically and only you, the player.

And that sucks ass! I'm sorry, but when I'm playing Edelgard's route I don't want to deal with her hiding herself away in her room for a month IN THE MIDDLE OF HER FUCKING WAR because she's just so embawwassed! It is so fucking insensitive that Edelgard is literally the only lord of the three who can have her trauma openly belittled at any point in the story by Byleth, all to have some cheap cutesy uwu moment about her fear of rats (calling her screaming in fear cute and INSISTING that it's really cute which is just. Fucking ew man)! Why can we fucking mock Edelgard's manner of speech during the MASSACRE OF REMIRE?

This shit doesn't happen to Claude or Dimitri! And saying "oh just don't pick those options then" is bullshit because no equivalent options exist for the male lords! It's piss-boilingly annoying that the second you choose to see things from the strong confident villainous ambitious female lord's perspective you can reduce her down to this bumbling moeblob just for you (sometimes unavoidably!) like!! Dude!

[mieczyhale]

knowing my dad is transphobic and witnessing it are somehow two different experiences every time and they both are fucking shit

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[ganondoodle]

im just gonna keep adding some wips on this post until i have all the parts together to make a whole story mechanics and explain in detail everything post using all these designs-

anyway, fake zelda with random armor set equipped

(WIP for "botw2" project)

perhaps we are getting somewhere with this ganondorf design after all ............. the patterns have been taking me forever and are far from done, i want to incorporate the colorful flower petal-ish design of the botw gerudo but still make him look different and more practical

[buckyalpine]

Pick Me

Bucky x reader 

The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier. 

warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.

A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲

-

“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side. 

“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n” 

“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you” 

“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?” 

The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run. 

“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic” 

“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome” 

“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant” 

Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam. 

“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary. 

“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.

“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use. 

“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process. 

“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program” 

“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod. 

“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!” 

“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way. 

Still.

Something was off.

You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...

No.

He wouldn’t do that. 

Right?

*****

“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train. 

“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet. 

“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?” 

Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered. 

“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again. 

No.

Relax. 

“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further. 

“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head. 

“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra” 

“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter. 

“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people” 

“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge” 

You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short. 

But you didn’t want to be petty. 

You were more mature than this. 

“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette. 

“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it” 

“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly. 

“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up.  “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”

“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible. 

“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two” 

You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles. 

“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat. 

“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order. 

“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”

You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down. 

“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?” 

“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n” 

“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.  

“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress. 

“Fuck sweets, you look- 

“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do” 

“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more. 

Since when did he call anyone else doll. 

You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you. 

“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer. 

“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-

“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it”  You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...

Right? 

You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.

*****

“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently” 

You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys. 

“Bucky, what are you-

“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”

Fantastic.

“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.  

“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”

“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. 

“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.

You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up. 

An hour later, it was 7. 

Then 7:30. 

And then 8.

By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow. 

****

Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed. 

He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside. 

“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face. 

“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying. 

“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street” 

We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you. 

“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-

“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking. 

“Yeah, I-

“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets. 

“Doll?”

“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave” 

“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-” 

“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.

How wrong he was. 

You avoided him in the morning. 

And the day after that. 

Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone. 

*****

“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much? 

“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him. 

“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion. 

“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong? 

“I didn’t mean to forget- 

“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes. 

“What did I do?”

“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone. 

“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”

Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right? 

“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.

“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots” 

As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location. 

“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is” 

“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...” 

****

“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over. 

“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls. 

“Baby, please!”

No. 

“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel” 

“There’s nothing to talk about”

“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you” 

“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.

“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”

“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead. 

“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”

You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down. 

“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face. 

“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”

“You’re an absolute idiot”

“An idiot who is in love” 

“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”

“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will” 

“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses. 

“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck. 

“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter. 

“And he happily agreed because...”

“Because...?”

“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is” 

****

“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK” 

“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”

“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress. 

“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in” 

“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames” 

“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me” 

“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”

“Cum for me princess, God I love you” 

“You want a snack?”

“Nick?”

“Uh-Nicole?”

“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word. 

“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you” 

“Fuck, I love you James” 

“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back. 

“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.

“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning. 

“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter. 

“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE” 

“Yup, real happy”

“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks. 

Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead. 

“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much” 

[inkskinned]

it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.

i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.

when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.

on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.

we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.

i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?

how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.

last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.

i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.

[spicy-apple-pie]

Can someone PLEASE write a Cass joins the Batfam early fic???

She and Jason are the same age and this is kinda the first time she meets someone her age. When he reaches out a hand to shake, she fucking Judo flips him and pins him to the ground.

Bruce quickly gets Cassandra off and gently explains to her that Jason is a friend and we don’t hurt friends. Jason wants to be mad, but she looked absolutely petrified when Bruce raised his voice and actually really ashamed that she hurt him. So he forgives her pretty quickly.

Jason also loves reading to her. They start with picture books, as they allow her to connect the images with words and such. But she’s a quick learner and soon can read books without pictures.

All according to Jason’s plan.

He quickly introduces her to his favourite books and he can babble on and on about them. He makes sure to ask Cass open ended questions so she feels encouraged to talk with him.

Dick comes for a visit and absolutely freaks out on Bruce. Like what do you MEAN you got another one? Why? I thought we talked about this?

Cass takes a while to warm up to Dick. But decides he’s her favourite after he bribes her with ice cream.

Bruce doesn’t know if it’s because Jason doesn’t like to be touched a whole lot, but he swears children are not as clingy as Cass. Bruce gave her a hug one time, and Cass has been on that dopamine rush ever since. All sense of personal space went right out the window when she experienced touch that wasn’t meant to hurt her. If Bruce is working in his office, Cassandra will come in, not address Bruce in anyway, and squirm her way onto his lap and just sit there.

She does this to like, everyone. She’ll lay next to Jason as he reads. She holds Alfred’s hand while he cleans. Once she straight up climbed Dick to sit on his shoulders because he held her up there one time and she just made herself at home.

This helps Jason become more comfortable with physical affection too. Jason will wake up from a nightmare to Cass staring at him.

“Agh! What the fuck, Cass!?”

“Scared.”

“What?”

“You are scared. Frightmare.”

“Yeah. I had a nightmare.”

“Nightmare.” Cass corrects herself.

“Yeah, am alright now though.” Jason goes to roll over and Cass stops him.

“Liar.”

“What? I’m not lying!” Okay, maybe it would take him a good hour to finally calm down enough to sleep, but he’s fine.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Cassandra teased him.

“Seriously, Cass I’m fi-“ Cass drags him out of bed and marches him to Bruce’s room.

Bruce sleepily questions what two bodies are doing his bed instead of the usually single body (again, Cass has no concept of personal space so often sleeps with Bruce).

“Jason had a nightmare.” Cass says as she forcibly tucks Jason in beside him.

“Oh, Jaylad.” Bruce rolls over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah but…” Jason thinks about going to his bedroom, but Cass is already cuddled up beside him. “Is it okay if I sleep in here for tonight?”

[odinsblog]

“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

[mariasont]

maria, i have an ideaaa!!

bimbo!assistant!reader goes on a date with a really shitty guy. and she sneaks away to the back door and calls hotch in the alley to come and save her (it’s also raining). she’s all wet and her makeup’s all ruined when hotch comes.

he then takes her back to his place and takes care of her… and… mushy soft fluffiness happens… and maybe feelings are confessed… and maybe a kiss or 2 happens…🥰💖

TALK ABOUT A BAD DATE - A.H

a/n: genius, genius, you are an absolute genius!!!!!!!!!!! this was probably my fav bimbo!reader fic to write <3 thank you sm for requesting

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: um the rain takes out reader's shirt, so she does kinda flash him for a hot sec, hotch also blatantly checks out her ass, cuties being sickeningly cute, cuties kiss in 4k

wc: 2k

A perfect, flawless, stunning, never-been-done before outfit wasted on a loser of a guy. Your makeup had taken an hour alone, your hair—well, you didn't even want to think about it because you were certain you were starting to break out in hives.

You steadied yourself against the brick wall, the uneven asphalt beneath your heels threatening to take you down as you fished your phone from the depths of your purse.

You dialed the first number you could think of--Hotch's. His was also the only one you had memorized. The battery icon flashed a warning of five percent as you hunched beneath the alleyway's awning, trying to shield yourself from the rain. You desperately hoped he'd pick up.

There was frankly no plan B if he didn't. Go back inside and ask you so-called date for a ride? That was not an option. The moment he pulled up in one of those big trucks, with its deafening music and roaring engine, you regretted not driving yourself. After all, you were well aware what men were compensating for with a big truck.

"Hotchner."

His voice was gruff, the sound slightly distorted by the speaker. You imagined he had just walked through his door, despite the time being eight o'clock on a Friday night. He was presumably preparing to pour his routine glass of scotch.

"Sir, it's me," you said, attempting to ignore the relentless raindrops assaulting your makeup--a battle they seemed intent on winning. Clearly, the concept of setting spray was foreign to them. "Can I ask you for a favor? If you say yes, I pinky promise I'll stop rearranging your desk. I know you have a system, but it just looks so bland sometimes."

"I'm going to overlook that desk comment," he stated, his sigh audible through the phone. You could picture the pensive frown that came with it. "What do you need?"

You drew your lips into a tight line, looking down to watch the rain mock the effort you had put into your outfit.

"Can you come pick me up? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Pick you up? From where? Are you okay?"

You shivered slightly, your free hand instinctively rubbing warmth into your arm. You should've brought a jacket. The thought of sharing this evening's failings with your boss did not sound appealing, so you avoided most of his questions.

"I'll text you the location, okay?"

"Okay, yes, I'll be there. Just stay put."

You thanked him and followed that by a double promise to stay put (he didn't believe you the first time). You also told him you'd wait inside, which was less than truthful. The thought of getting drenched was far more attractive than the prospect of bumping in that women-hating boy again.

You didn't have to wait long, thankfully, spotting Hotch's car turn into the alley, the headlights flaring up like spotlights against your face. You used a manicured hand to shield your eyes, narrowing them against the glare. The distinct sound of a door opening and closing signaled his arrival, and soon, Hotch was striding towards you.

"Christ, get in the car," Hotch insisted, more a command than a suggestion.

He was by your side in an instant, his arm on yours as he opened your door and helped you in. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt. You giggled, his hand pausing just above your thigh.

"What?"

The rain gently streamed over his perfect skin, his hair now saturated and plastered to his brow, his blue dress shirt bearing the brunt of the downpour.

"You don't trust me to buckle my own seatbelt?"

"I don't trust you with a lot of things." Completely false. "For instance, your choice of men." Completely true.

He clicked the seatbelt into place and swung the door shut, cutting off any chance of a response, then moved around the car to the driver's side.

You can't help but pout, even as your eyes traced the line of his jaw. "How'd you know?"

Any trace of annoyance vanished as quickly as it came as he placed a hand behind you, giving you an even better view of his profile while he reversed the car. Your focus shifted to the ripple of muscles under his shirt.

"I'm trained to know when someone is in distress and you practically spelled it out. The restaurant, the clothes..." His voice tapered off, disguising his pause with a cough while his gaze flickered over your outfit, his cheeks tinged with a fleck of red. "I've got a spare sweatshirt in the back if you need it."

You traced his line of sight to your chest. Emitting a small squeak, you quickly shielded yourself with your arms, realizing that your white top had become completely see through.

"Totally not embarassing," you say, pursing your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"It's fine," Hotch insists, but you don't miss how his eyes are now careful not to drift from the road. "Put your seatbelt back on."

"I can't reach the sweatshirt."

You shift to face the back, knees planted on your seat as you lean over to grab just the thing you were looking for. In the rearview mirror you catch the brief moment his eyes do stray, discreetly (or so he thought) sweeping over your ass.

A self-satisfied smile crept across you face as you slid back into your seat, slipping on the sweatshirt. It smelled like him—an intoxicating blend of aged leather and pine. You liked it. A lot.

"So do you wanna talk about it?"

You really didn't. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your lip gloss. Flipping down the passenger mirror, you froze, confronting your reflection.

"Hotch, didn't you think to mention my face is all... smudgy?"

Your mascara (and setting spray) had betrayed you, leaving dark trails down your cheeks and a slightly unhinged look.

"Your face is perfect," Hotch remarks dryly, like he was tired of you, he undoubtedly was. You were a handful after all. "Why are you avoiding my question?"

You let out a delighted gasp.

"Did you just say my face is perfect?" Leaning over the console, you tap his nose with your finger. "You're just the sweetest."

The look Hotch gives you is flat, expectant as if he knows just what you were trying to do.

"Okay, okay, fine, it was just a terrible date. Like, Hotch, I'm talking disaster-level bad. He made fun of my job, ate like a toddler, and his truck? He wouldn't shut up about it." Your hands are now shuffling through the contents of your purse in a panic. "And now, I can't find my keys."

"Your house keys?"

A breath of frustration flows from you, fingers pulling through your hair as you nod. "Dang it."

You felt a slight unraveling in your usual poise, and the panicking that came with it. Hotch's hand landed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing across your collarbone.

"Hey, it's fine. It's late, and you're upset. You can stay at my place tonight, I'll crash on the couch, and we'll find your keys in the morning."

He made everything seem so simple.

"I'm not upset," you insist, lips pursing as you angle your body just enough to feel his touch more fully.

His hands felt right on you.

He chuckled quietly, his thumb tracing a path from your shoulder to brush away the solitary tear beneath your eye that you hadn't noticed before.

"Must be a raindrop," you shrug. Hotch's soft laugh tells you he doesn't quite buy it. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?"

"I'm certain."

"Okay."

"So why did your date make fun of your job?"

"Because," you start, your fingertip lazily sketching doodles on the misted car window, "when I was telling him about being an assistant and working for you, he implied that the only reason you hired me was so you had something pretty to look at."

"Well, he's not entirely wrong."

You let out a surprised giggle. "Hotch!"

You reach over the console, pinching his arm which he just laughed off, pulling into what you assumed was his driveway. You had never been to his house. It was nice. Really nice, the kind you'd find in movies—not imposing, but inviting, with its brick walls and stout brown pillars framing the porch.

You were even more surprised when you entered the house. The image you had of Hotch's house one of meticulous order, a place where you could hear the tick of a clock from rooms away. But this... this was a home. There were throw blankets casually draped over the couch, books overflowing, armchairs worn in just the right places.

You lean down, intent on stripping off the torturous heels, but a wobble has you teetering. Hotch is quick to step in.

"Here," he offers, lifting each foot in turn to his knee, skillfully undoing the straps and easing them off you.

Standing flat-footed, you suddenly feel much shorter, and you wonder if Hotch has ever seen you without them.

You look up at him, smiling cheekily. "My very own prince charming."

He ignored you and moved through the living room. "Do you want a pair of sweatpants?"

"Sharing clothes now, are we? I bet there's a clause against this in the employee handbook."

Hotch raises an eyebrow, "I don't think I need to remind you of the numerous times I've overlooked your creative interpretations of the handbook rules."

"So you're admitting to showing me favoritism?"

You plucked the sweatpants from his hands, not giving him an option to respond as you shuttled yourself into his bathroom. You changed quickly, trading your sopping wet clothes for Hotch's dry, warm ones.

You reentered the living room to find Hotch reclining on the couch with an ease that was new to your eyes. He, too, had slipped into something more comfortable—sweats and a form fitting grey long sleeve that threatened to distract you completely.

You dropped your purse onto the coffee table and settled next to him, maybe a little closer than you should have.

He let out a sound that was more a breath than a laugh, a sound that all the same made your heart flutter unexpectedly. "You've still got some, uh, makeup under your eyes."

He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.

"It won't come off that way," you said, grabbing his wrist with a soft smile. "I have makeup wipes in my purse."

But he didn't hand you your bag like you would've thought, instead he dug through it, pulling out the wipes and starting to dab at your face. The softness of his touch felt disarmingly intimate, so gentle it coaxed your eyes to flutter more slowly, eyelids becoming more heavy.

Your head tilted downward and Hotch used his free hand to tilt it back up. "Stay still, or I'm going to poke your eye out."

"You're making me sleepy," you murmur, your voice a soft, drowsy hum, but then he moved the wipe to your lips and suddenly you were anything but.

He was even more gentle with your lips, if that was possible, wiping away the gloss like you were made of glass.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself gazing into his warm, brown-sugared eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. How did you get so close? You weren't sure, but he was there, noses almost touching.

He pulled away the wipe, using his thumb to clean up left over gloss though you were sure there wasn't any. His hand paused there, resting on your lower lip like it was meant to be there. You felt every fiber of your being stand on high alert. You wondered what he was thinking.

Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?

"Are you going to kiss me?" You asked, half-hopeful, half-daring, giving a microphone to your inner monologue.

He took a moment, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes then back down again. "Yes."

It was certain. Like there was no doubt about it, but he didn't move.

"Okay, I'm ready," you breathed out, pulse roaring in your ears.

Hotch's laughter was a low and warm sound. You had heard it a lot tonight.

"You kill me," he said, and it wasn't patronizing—it was affectionate and genuine, and it made your whole body turn to mush.

Then his lips were on yours, and you were both laughing, the sound muffled by lips. It was tentative at first but it quickly morphed into something sweet and soft and perfect.

"Aren't you glad my date went terribly?" you mumbled into his soft skin.

"Devastatingly glad."

One thing was clear—Hotch was not going to end up sleeping on the couch tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @averyhotchner @everythinglizzy @sky2nd

join my taglist here!

[foreveradreamaway]

streaming- MV33/1

summary- a compilation of moments from maxs streams

i really loved writing this as i always have small idea that aren’t long enough to be their own post, if you have any small idea that goes with this or just in general then please comment it or send it to me and i will make a part two or another post similar <3

max loved to stream every now and then. he loved the interactions with fans and getting to play with his friends. you also loved when max streamed because it gave you some peace and quiet for a while, it also allowed you to do some house work without max following you like a lost puppy.

you had made numerous appearances in his streams and his fans loved it. probably enjoying seeing you both as actual humans and getting to see how you both live your daily lives together. some fans had made a compilation of the many times you made an appearance in one of maxs streams.

🏎️

max sat in his gaming chair immersed in whatever game he was playing. you needed something from the room he was in and it couldn’t wait.

you opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible and creeped over to the thing you needed. apparently you weren’t quiet enough and he heard you. he moved one side of his headset off his ear.

“sorry, i just needed to grab the end thing for the hoover.” you sheepishly smiled. he only grinned in return. you took this as the opportunity to walk up behind him so you were in the frame.

“what are you playing?” you questioned as your face finally came in shot.

“im playing cod with lando, charles and carlos”

“aww cute” you sent a quick wave to say hello to everyone that was on the other end of the camera. however your eyes were quickly caught by the top of maxs head.

“can they hear me?” you questioned, he nodded. “okay. hello everyone, it’s your favourite person in the world here and i just needed to show you something” max had a confused look on his face as he watched you through the camera, wondering what you were about to show.

your hands reached for each side of the head set that was on his head and slowly removed it and handed it to him. your hands then went to either side of his head and tilted it down.

“max gets really bad headset hair guys and it will literally stay like this for the rest of the day” max’s hands quickly went up to his hair to attempt to fix while you and the chat couldn’t help but laugh.

“shut up” he grumbled as he lifted the head set back onto his head. “love you baby!” you called over your shoulder as you left the room.

“i hate her”

“i heard that!”

🏎️

“mijn liefste, wil je zo pasta? Ik ben er nu een paar aan het maken” you can’t be seen as you poke your head round the door.

“Het gaat goed, dank je schat” he replies while not taking his eyes off the game but removing one side of his headset. “welke pasta ben je aan het maken?”

“i know i’m learning but im not that good yet max” you laugh.

“i said ‘what pasta are you making” he replies, suddenly feeling hunger bubble his stomach.

“i’m not sure yet. are you sure you don’t want any? i’ll surprise you” making food has always been one of your love languages, your mum had shown you to cook as soon as she could and you picked it up quick.

“yeah go on then” he finally turns to you and smiles as you walk away. when he finally turns back he sees the chat filled with questions and people telling him how cute you both are.

“yeah she is learning dutch. i’m teaching her” his face lights up as he talks about you. “it’s very easy for her though because she already knows other languages so she picks it up quickly” his smile never leaving his face.

🏎️

max is looking intensely at the chat in-front of him, reading everything is the chat. answering a couple questions. he does this until he sees a familiar name come up.

“‘answer your phone’ what?” he quickly picks up his phone to see that he has ten missed calls from you. he is quick to call you back.

“max stop putting your phone on do not disturb and silent” you scold. he always did when he was streaming, he always said it was because he didn’t want to be disturbed however sometimes it was important. like now.

“sorry schat.”

“do you want anything from the shop? i’ve already got your m&ms and tomato soup.” max had a soft spot for m&ms and everyone knows about this man’s love of tomato soup.

“no i’m okay thank you baby. what are we having for dinner” max had a massive smile on his face. half because he was talking to you and because he knew how much everyone watching would love the conversation.

“well you’ve got mean prep” you couldn’t help but laugh as max groaned loudly and threw his head back. he hated meal prep. don’t get me wrong he loved being healthy and eating nice food but sometimes he just craved your cooking. “and i’m having a stir fry.”

“ugh whatever. i want stir fry”

“i know baby. ill make you one as soon as your nutritionist will allow me too”

“okay fine. when will you be home?” max kept the phone close to his mic to make sure everyone would be able to hear you on the other end of the phone.

“not long, i took the ferrari so it won’t take me long to get home. i don’t have my keys so be ready to pick up your phone and open the door! okay, i love you bye” you ended the phone call quickly before he could say anything about you taking his car.

“i swear she prefers my cars over her own” he laughed as he read through the chat again.

🏎️

when you moved in with max you demanded that a sofa be put into his gaming/office room. he got you the cosiest sofa he could just to make sure you were comfy. max spent a lot of time in the room and you missed him when he was in there.

before you lived together, you tried to sit on the floor when you were round but you just weren’t comfortable enough so that’s when you demanded a sofa. if max was streaming or just had some admin stuff to do, you would just sit on the sofa and enjoy each-others company.

max was streaming, as per usual, while you sat all snuggled up on the sofa across the room. you had one the comfiest jumper of his that you could find, his joggers, a blanket covering your whole body and tucked under your chin and you glasses that sat on your nose.

max had specifically bought a pair of joggers that were too small for him. one day he came home to see you wearing a pair of his that were far to big for you and when he questioned you, you said that you just enjoy wearing his clothes. so the next day he went and bought a pair that were to small and placed them in his waldrobe. from then on they were yours.

you were also a secret iPad kid at heart. your iPad was literally your prized possession and you took it everywhere with you. now was no different as you sat there with your ipad resting on your legs as you watched tik tok.

“look” you turned the ipad around so that it was facing max, he leant on the arm rest of the chair to get a better view of what you were showing him. it was a cat.

“we should get sassy and jimmy one” he laughed as you nodded. he sat back into his chair and caught what the chat were saying. many people asking where you were.

he grabbed the camera from its holder and turned it to face you, showing you under the blanket. he got up out his chair and moved to sit next to you on the sofa.

“you are actually such an old man” you laughed as he struggled to hold the camera so that it would get a view of both of you. “give it to me” you took the camera from his hand and wrapped your other arm around his neck to bring him closer to you.

“hey guys, it’s your favourite person in the world here” the camera now had a perfect view of both of you as you put a quick peace sign up to the camera. you quickly nudged max and his fingers quickly went to the same position as yours. “i want to show you all my outfit, hold this baby” you handed the camera to max and threw the blanket onto him as you stood from your seat.

“max, show them my whole body my love” you laughed as he was only showing the camera your legs. “i’m trying Schat” you leant forward a bit and moved maxs hand so it faced where it should be.

“okay so my glasses are from specsavers, they are the only people i trust with my glasses. even if i need a new pair i would rather fly home than get a pair from anywhere else. because if they messed my glasses up i would just hear my mum in my ear saying ‘should have gone to specsavers’. my jumper is maxs- where is this jumper from?” you questioned him.

“umm its a zara one i think”

“okay so the jumper is from zara and these joggers are from nike. can i even say that? do they even sponsor you?” max’s laugh could be heard from behind the camera before he replies. “yeah it’s okay. i think” his face fell into a sheepish grin behind the camera.

“my socks are from god knows where. and the blanket is from also god knows where.” you gave the camera a big smile as you fell back into your previous position.

“you are the new version of maxplaining”

“shut up”

🏎️

“can we play fifa?” you were sat on the floor, cross legged, next to max while he sat in his gaming chair. “you only want to play fifa because you always beat me” he huffed.

“exactly” you grinned at him.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and Wonder Woman

@actuel-idiot is a major reason I’m writing this! They gave me the idea so the credit goes to them.

Diana has a special relationship with Captain Marvel. They’re family. Technically. But they’re family! The man has no problem treating her like one of his own, and it’s not like Diana has any of her other family in man’s world so she’ll take what she can get. The only downside is that no one knows his actual identity, including Diana. Half the people in the JL don’t even believe he has one, but when Diana asked, he confirmed he did. She hoped that one day he would share his identity with her, but for the meantime, she’d just continue to enjoy their bond.

Like, for example, Diana talks to Marvel whenever she misses Themyscira. The very first time she started missing her home was about a few weeks after the JL formed. (Marvel’s a founding member in this post)

WW: “Captain, do you ever miss home?”

Marvel: “Hm? I guess so?” *confused*

WW: “You guess so? Do you not miss Olympus? I assume that’s where you grew up.”

Marvel: “Oh, no. I’ve never been to Olympus. If that’s what you mean by home. It isn’t.”

WW: “Then where is your home?”

Marvel: “Well, I haven’t had a home in a long time. So, I can’t particularly say. All I know is that I can’t go back, and as the years go by, I hate to say it but I barely remember it.” He only knows what his dad looks like due to his Marvel form, and he only remembers his mom due to Mary’s form. As for what they were like? A lot of the memories are fuzzy. “So, unfortunately… there isn’t really much to miss.”

WW: “Do you think I’ll forget about Themyscira?”

Marvel: “I don’t know. But that’s why it’s important to make a home wherever you go. That, and if you really don’t wanna forget, you can always try and find people who used to call your home theirs.” *shrugs*

WW: “I don’t believe there are any other Amazonians and man’s world.”

Marvel: “Well… not technically.” *little smile* “You know, a few thousand years ago I was an Amazonian at some point.”

WW: “What…?”

Marvel: “Shocking. I know.” *little laugh*

WW: “But you’re a man?” *dumbfounded expression*

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but I wasn’t always. If you want, I could tell you some stuff about the first island.”

WW: “The first Themyscira? You were alive back then?”

Marvel: “Yup.”

WW: *stares for a bit* “I’d… I’d like that a lot. Please share.”

The two spend the rest of the evening talking about all the lore about Themyscira, Diana’s mother, Diana’s aunts, the culture back then, the dialects, and so on.

Then, there was the incident with Circe. She had cast a spell on Diana, turning her into a child. After it had happened, she left and soon a mini Diana was swarmed by the leaguers.

Marvel: “Wait, so she still knows who we all are, she’s just a little kid?”

Batman: *nods head* “Correct.”

WW: *looking around as the other leaguers fawn over her cause she’s adorable*

Batman: “It also altered her mindset, making her more childish.”

WW: *spots Marvel and her eyes sparkle* “Big brother!” *runs over to Marvel and crashes into his legs hugging them*

Marvel: “Woah!” *slightly startled at her running over* “Wow, Diana, you’re still so strong.” *takes on the tone he uses to talk to Darla (aka big brother/father tone) as he leans down to pick her up*

WW: *nods head* “Yeah!”

Marvel: *moves to carry her like she’s his own daughter*

The two proceed to talk about whatever as the other JL members coo at the two looking like father and daughter. Same black hair and blue eyes. Also, Zeus was gnawing at the bars of his metaphorical cage when he saw this. His daughter was too precious. As soon as the other leaguers blinked, he took little Diana and they proceeded to go fight Mr.Mind together. They then went for ice cream afterwords. Now, they’re eating their respective cones while sitting on the edge of a building.

Marvel: “You did such a good job, Diana. That one punch at that one robot that sent it flying into three other ones was amazing.” *smiles and ruffles Diana’s hair*

WW: *giggles and licks ice cream* “Thanks, dad.”

Marvel: *pauses mid bite of ice cream* (Yes, I’m making Billy bite his ice cream)

WW: *doesn’t even realize she said that*

Zeus: “You… YOU STOLE MY DAUGHTER?!” *thunderclouds in the distance*

Billy proceeded to have to make many offerings to Zeus to make him calm down after the incident. For a week straight, he kept getting little shocks whenever he touched stuff.

[captainreecejames]

So Long, London || My Ex is a Footballer MV1

[masterlist][my ex series masterlist][written version]

summary sometimes your childhood sweatheart doens't work out, and that leads you to your true love.

pairings ex!ben chilwell x reader, max verstappen x reader faceclaim danielle campbell

warnings cursing, j*s mentioned, some hate

notes I love this so much I hope you guys like it too. Also this is now going to get a written version because I need to write the angst of ben x reader and how we got to max x reader

ynusername posted ------

liked by maxverstappen1 benchilwell and others

ynusername thank you to redbullracing for having me in the garage! always love visiting the paddock

load more comments

redbullracing we loved having you for the weekend! stop by soon

username1 what did you get maxplained about? ↳ ynusername huh? ↳ username1 it's when max traps people into conversations cause he can't stop explaining stuff to them ↳ ynusername ooohh lol I just asked him about sim racing ↳ username1 NOO girl got roped into simracing

username2 Ben in the likes 😭😭😭

username3 benjamin come get your girl!! She's being rizzed up by a vroom vroom man

redbullracing send us those pictures you took of max on the podium 🙏 ↳ ynusername I gotchu!

maxverstappen1 loved having you! ↳ schecoperez yes yn! Visit again soon 👍 ↳ ynusername if you two insist ☺️

scuderiaferrari stop by our garage again, we have the good gelato ↳ ynusername don't threaten me with a good time

username4 yn tifosi real? ↳ ynusername well I can't argue with the goat Sebastian vettel so 🤷‍♀️ ↳ redbullracing yeah but we had him first

mercedesamgf1 yn we have another goat if you want to hang out with us ↳ username5 yn really has f1 admins fighting over her in the comment section

chelseafc don't forget your first love yn ↳ leicestercity she won't. we love and miss you yn 💙 ↳ username5 no now she has football team admins here 😭

max's whatsapp messages -------

max emilian charles, is alex going to the jeddah gp?

charles perceval dude, he's driving

max emilian you know that's not what i meant

charles perceval ooooohhh yes, she's going

max emilian cool can we introduce her to yn

charles perceval is yn making her debut as a wag

max emilian you know i hate that word

charles perceval oop yeah, we can introduce them

max emilian thanks

twitter --------

ynusername posted -----

liked by charles_leclerc, schecoperez and others

ynusername not how I expected our relationship to be revealed but okay here goes nothing, everyone meet my boyfriend max

load more comments

username6 charles is not beating the lestappen allegations, why did he like this so fast? ↳ username3 especially on post just of max

username7 why yn making max kinda...? ↳ username8 i was not a max girlie but now I see it

username9 how am I f1 girlie now?? yn you've bewitched me ↳ username10 the vampire diaries to f1 pipeline ↳ username9 don't forget the pit stop at chelsea fc

username11 yn is making me a fan of sports by dating these men, stop that

redbullracing new max verstappen fan account?? ❤️ by ynusername

scuderiaferrari I guess we won't get you in the garage anytime soon? ↳ ynusername can I still get some good gelato? ↳ scuderiaferrari we guess ↳ ynusername ❤️

maxverstappen1 schatje 😒 ↳ ynusername love you babe 💙❤️

username12 yn... you were supposed to get him away from the skinny jeans, not wear them as well ↳ ynusername oops! 😅

username14 clocking in to start my shift as yn's biggest defender

username13 moving on real fast ↳ username14 I know you're not saying that 18 months is fast

username15 homie hopper ↳ username14 bitch? max and ben aren't friends, they barely even know each other

carlossainzjr no mention for the race winner? ↳ landonorris or me? ↳ ynusername i mean, congrats? 😅

twitter-------

ynusername posted-----

liked by landonorris, masonmount and others

ynusername congrats charles on the Monaco win, but we come back in Canada 💪🏼

load more comments

maxverstappen1 why those pictures? ↳ ynusername cause you're my cutie pie

charles_leclerc thank you yn! see you in montreal

username21 yn feeding us max girls with the boyfriend content

masonmount missed you yn! save me a ticket at silverstone ↳ ynusername ill see what i can swing mase 😂

username22 did you see what ben said about you? ↳ username23 girl she literally talked to him, of course she knows what he said

username26 not ben and max fighting over our girl yn ↳ username14 they're not fighting, max already won

username30 cause of death? that last slide

benchilwell tough race for red bull, but good to see you yn! ↳ ynusername thanks ben ↳ username26 she used to call him benny or chilly or b, never ben 😭😭 ↳ username14 tough shit, she's with max now

username27 the difference between her comment to mason and to ben, bring our family back together please

username28 congratulates charles on the win but not carlos in australia, she really is part of the lecfosi ↳ ynusername I've versed myself in the fan terms since mexico, sorry to disappoint but I'm just happy for the hometown hero ↳ charles_leclerc I'm not sneaking you anymore gelato ↳ ynusername booooo 👎🏻👎🏻

[megwritesriddles]

Sweeter Than Fiction ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 7 - Queening / Face-sitting. Spencer meets Reader when she starts working at his local library and he's quickly in over his head. After he goes snooping for information on her online, he finds out a dirty little secret, she writes fanfiction.

Tags: Face-sitting, Oral sex (f receiving), Fantasies, Masturbation, Pining, Friends to lovers, Love confessions, Sub!Spencer, Autistic!Spencer (implied ig?), Both Spencer and Reader are NERDS, Set somewhere between seasons 1-3.

Word count: 4.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Surprise!! I changed a couple things on my kinktober due to lack of inspiration so here's an unexpected extra Spencer fic!! This is soooo long and the plot is so self-indulgent and ughhh but he eats you out so...!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Spencer had never felt like this before, he hadn’t really had the chance to. Crushes had never really been his thing, having been significantly younger than his peers all throughout his education and being staunchly focused on his career ever since. He had physical attractions here and there, like an occasional reminder that he really was just a fallible human man as much as anyone else, but never any true feelings, nothing he ever wanted to try to pursue in a serious way. It wasn’t simple for him like it was for someone like Morgan, in many senses of the word. Not only was he just not socially skilled enough to pursue relationships, whether casual or otherwise, with any success, he also had a large set of difficulties that he would carry into any relationship. He was quite touch averse, not that he didn’t desperately crave it all the same, which could easily cause issues in any physical relationship. He also had a lot of emotional baggage, from his mother, from his job, from his bullying. He felt a mess emotionally and didn’t see the point in trying to bring in another person to see the mess in all its glory. So he kept to himself. He wasn’t completely without experience, but every experience he’d had was marred with difficulty and complication, none of it ever lasted. He was reasonably content to keep to himself.

Until he met you. He’d been visiting the library nearest his apartment since he moved to D.C. for work. One day he walked in and you were sitting behind the desk, all bright-eyed and excited. The attraction to you had been immediate, he’d found you to be beautiful, he liked the way you dressed, and he liked your sweet voice as you spoke to the customer in front of you. He thought it would end there, that he would silently find you attractive from afar but remained more focused on other things. Cursed to stammer nervously at you whenever you scanned his books, but never say more than necessary. For a long time, that’s all it was, until he was taking out a book that, unbeknownst to him, was a big favourite of yours.

“Oh my goodness, my favourite” you chuckle as you pick up the book from his pile. “This book is amazing, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” you smile brightly as you scan it onto his card. His fingers twitch where he rests them on the edge of the wooden counter. He hadn’t been prepared to talk to you, but it’s nicer than most things that catch him unprepared.

“Y-yeah? Uh… great,” he swallows, drumming his fingers on the counter as you scan the rest of his books, mostly textbooks. 

“Well, if you have any taste that is,” you tease. He laughs back stiffly, his mouth feeling dry. 

“I uh… like to think I do…” he smiles awkwardly.

“You’ll have to tell me what you thought of it,” you hand him the books and his brain blanks for a moment. You’re inviting him to speak to you some other time, to have an actual conversation. He moves jerkily, taking the books from you and packing them into his satchel. You smile kindly and wave to him as he leaves. “See you soon,”

The way his mind is spinning from that simple conversation, he knows that this is something different. He collapses onto a bench outside the library, taking a deep breath. Why is his heart racing? Is this what butterflies feel like? He rubs a hand through his hair, messing it up. When the anxiety fades away, he’s left with a warm feeling in his chest. You want to speak to him again. He flips open his satchel and pulls out the book you’d said was your favourite. It’s classic literature, something he’s been meaning to read for a long time now, but has somehow never gotten around to. He devours the book in mere minutes, thanks to his impressive reading speed. It’s an amazingly compelling tale, with feminist undertones that were ahead of their time and he feels he understands you just a little better by knowing you like this book. He packs it back into his satchel and stands, heading back into the library. The queue to your desk is a few people long, but he joins it anyway, fiddling with the strap of his bag. You don’t make much small talk with the people in front of him in the line, making it feel all the more special that you’d spoken to him. He reaches the front and you smile, but tilt your head in confusion.

“Forget something?”

“The book was great,” he blurts, and you look even more confused.

“What?”

“The book, the one you said was your favourite, it was phenomenal, and surprisingly progressive for its time! Having those sorts of sentiments about a woman's role in a marriage in the 18th century, while seeming slightly archaic by today's standards, must have caused quite a stir at the time, especially coming from a female author. British law in 1764 actually suggested that women–” he doesn’t realise he’s rambling until you cut him off.

“Hold on, you read it already?” you look disbelieving. He smiles sheepishly. “I only lent it to you, what?” you glance at the clock on your desktop screen. “15 minutes ago,”

“I can read very fast,” he mumbles, looking at the scuff on the toe of his shoe for a moment. You giggle.

“Yeah, clearly,” you study his face. He goes quiet, eyes flickering over the small decorations you had scattered across your desk as a means of personalising your space. “You were saying?” you prompted softly. He looked up at you in wonder, no one had ever requested he resumes an info dump, usually, he was told to shut up and looked weird, but you seemed to wait with genuine interest. Perhaps that was the moment that he was well and truly done for. He steps aside so that the person behind him in the line can get their books scanned. He talks at you for almost a whole hour, getting lost in tangent after tangent as you work. You occasionally pipe in to ask a question or make a comment, but you seem happy to listen. Suddenly, your already beautiful appearance becomes more like that of an angel or a goddess to him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life. He leaves the library after you excuse yourself for your lunch break. Once he gets home, he sits down on his couch, smiling dopily. Then, it slowly dawns on him that he’d just stood there and rattled on about various topics that he had no clue if you even had any interest in. He buries his face in his hands and groans. Has he already ruined things with the first person he’s ever felt anything genuine for? It was bound to happen eventually, but this soon? He goes to bed miserable that night.

Fortunately, his misery had been for nothing. The next time he visits the library, you’re there, all smiles at him like usual. When he comes to return his previous book haul (yes, maybe he hasn’t used the returns box since you started working here, what of it?), you greet him, asking if he has any more facts for you. At first, he thinks you’re mocking him, but the genuine smile you give tells him otherwise. He scrambles through his mind for something interesting to tell you, feeling less than a genius at this moment. He settles to ask what your favourite animal is, then spends the next several minutes telling you all the nichest information about that animal he could think of. This time, you start to talk too, though instead of spewing facts, you’re telling him personal anecdotes, or about new books the library has got in. The next several times he comes in, you end up talking for long periods of time. You never interrupt him when he rambles and in return he allows you to ramble too, not bothered by the slightest if he has to listen to you for hours. He’d do it happily. Things escalate over time, and he realises the two of you have truly become friends. The thought excites him, as he is closer to the object of his affection, but also because he doesn’t have all that many friends outside of his work. With you, he has somebody to talk books with, and that means the world to him. You text daily, though they’re not particularly long conversations, just whenever something comes up that you think might interest the other. You’d originally given him your email address and he’d explained that he didn’t use email. He felt completely silly, but you’d just shrugged it off and given him your number. Despite that, he still keeps the piece of paper onto which you scrawled your email address, tacked up by his seldom used computer. Just in case.

The team at the BAU tease him relentlessly when they find out about the ‘sweet girl from the library’ that he texts everyday. Any hint of him interacting with a woman, they latch onto like rabid wolves, but when the texts from you keep popping up on his phone now and then for weeks, they absolutely won’t leave it alone. They all know he likes you, even if he’s been very careful to not reveal this fact and they tease him about it. He’s just glad you’re never there to hear it, as he might just die from the embarrassment. One week, while staying back from a case due to a mild cold, he sits in Garcia’s office and watches her work while he does his own. She had insisted he come keep her company, and he hadn’t quite dared to tell her no. He’s scribbling down some notes about the latest crime scene photos they’ve been sent through when Garcia receives a call. It’s Morgan, asking her to run a check on an email address that may potentially belong to an unsub, to see what kind of accounts can be linked to it, and if there’s anything untoward and potentially warrant-worthy. He watches over her shoulder as she types the email address into a program, which spits back out several accounts all over the internet. He rolls his chair over, watching curiously.

“How do you do that? Is it for FBI stuff only?” he asks nervously, twirling a pen around in his fingers. Garcia laughs and glances over her shoulder. 

“No, you can find programs to do this in various places online,” she answers, highlighting accounts of potential interest. He nods, still watching over her shoulder, working his lip between his teeth. He tries to convince himself that he’s not going to do it, even as he asks Garcia to write him down one of these websites. She gives him a knowing look but obliges. He keeps telling himself he won’t do it, and that it’s creepy as he gets the train home, but as soon as he’s in his apartment, he heads for his computer and boots it up. He searches up the site that Garcia recommended and tells himself one last time that he isn’t going to do it, before copying your email address into the search field and hitting enter. He waits as the website loads the results, glancing at the door to his apartment as if you’re going to burst in and tell him off. Oh, how he wishes you’d be in his apartment one day, or he at yours. He’s never really wanted to share a space before, but lately, everything he does he imagines what it would be like to have you there. Your arms around him as he cooks, your head on his lap as he watches TV, your body against his in the bed. The website finishes its search and he takes a deep breath, investigating the results. There are various common social media websites, accounts with academic journals (which he appreciates you for), and a couple of other sites he doesn’t recognise. He clicks on the first and furrows his brows. Fanfiction? He supposes that you are a voracious reader like he is, and you mentioned liking to write, but never admitting to what you wrote. This was it then, was it? Your secret writing? It wasn’t that secret, the account was registered in your name, all the works listed being for books and media that you talked about often. You had quite a decent following, at least in his eyes, you were no celebrity, but you had a decent collection of comments and likes.

He starts to read, beginning with your most popular piece. He digests it in moments, his cheeks burning bright. It was pure pornography. Well not purely, there was quite a well-woven storyline behind it, but the focus was undoubtedly the filthy sex scenes. He loosens his tie, feeling hot. He double and triple checks that this is definitely your account, but it clearly is. He’s feeling a little disbelieving, you had just always seemed so innocent to him, but he supposed the two of you had never discussed sex in any way. Spencer would have combusted if it had ever come up. He inhales the rest of your work, getting unreasonably hard in his slacks as he reads. He’s impressed by the skill of your writing, but more than anything, by how delicious your imagination is. It’s like you’ve plucked every fantasy he’s ever allowed himself to have out of his brain and written it up with beautiful flowery language. He doesn’t know half of the characters that you’ve written for, but it doesn’t matter to him, as he imagines the two of you in their places and it works perfectly. Almost like it was written with the two of you in mind. He discards that thought, but not before noticing that you’ve been writing a lot more in the past few months you’ve known each other. He notices how many of your stories centre around a more submissive male, a favourite trope of yours seeming to be having the female partner sit on their face. He imagines you sitting on his face and groans aloud, having to palm his bulge through his slacks. He imagines you’d be like the protagonists in your stories, dominating but kind. He reaches into his slacks to stroke himself, not something he does often, but something that has certainly been more frequent lately. His eyes skim a passage of one of your stories as he tugs at himself, picturing your face between the words. He cums harder than he thinks he ever has because this feels that much closer to the real thing. Once he’s done, he sits catching his breath, staring at the mess on his hand and stomach. He thinks he should feel ashamed, but he’s still aroused, terribly so. He wishes he could show you what you do to him. Before he can stop himself, his aroused brain much less intelligent than he usually is, he makes an account on the site with his name and leaves a comment on your most recent work.

“This was the hottest thing I’ve ever read,” 

He sends it and sits back, wiping the rest of the residue off his stomach. As the haze of arousal lifts, he realises what he’s done. Panicking, he tries to delete the comment, but there’s no option to. He swallows, taking a deep breath. It’ll be okay, he tells himself, if she ever notices, I’ll pretend I was just being sarcastic, teasing her for writing this kind of thing, not genuinely rocked by it. However, his phone is already ringing. It’s you. You never call. You couldn’t have seen the comment already, could you? He seriously debates not answering, even as he’s desperate to hear your voice. Against his better judgment, he picks up the phone.

“Am I speaking to SpencerReid1981?” you chuckle over the phone, your voice teasing as you recite his username. His plans to pretend he was mocking you go out the window the second you talk. He can tell you have one over him by the confident tone in your voice. You’ve had one over him since the day you first met. 

“Y-yeah,” he relents, seeing no way out of this now. What would the chances be of another Spencer Reid born in 1981 having commented on your fanfiction? If he wasn’t so nervous and lingeringly aroused, he could’ve told you. He decides to just be earnest. “You’re a really good writer,”

“How did you even find me on there?” you scoff, laughing gently. He blushes, glad you can’t see it.

“You don’t want to know,” he mumbles. There’s a moment of silence.

“So… you found it hot, huh? What part?” he chokes slightly on his spit, going bright red, you can probably tell, even through the phone.

“Don’t make me say it,” he squeaks. You hum softly on the other end.

“Oh come on… you started all this,” you coax. He’s silent for another beat, you hear his laboured breaths on the phone. 

“The- when- when she uh… sat on his face,” he stutters out. You smirk.

“Really?” you stretch out the last syllable in a playful manner. “You a big giver then?” you say it to tease him, expecting him to sputter and deny it, to beg to change the subject, but he doesn’t.

“I– I would be for you,” you both go silent, you in shock and him in fear of your reaction. You’re dumbfounded that he would ever be so direct with you. It’s been clear to you for a while that he has a thing for you, you’ve caught his lingering looks on your lips or your thighs, the way you’re able to fluster him, but you’d assumed he’d dance around it forever. He’d just essentially admitted, leaving it hanging in the air.

“Come over,” you answer simply, hanging up the phone before he can ask questions or change his mind. Spencer feels completely dumbstruck by your words. Come over? His legs are carrying him to his door before he can think about it. He grabs his bag and his coat and hurries to his car. He’s never driven so fast in his life, he’s only been at your place once, to drop you off after your work, but the way there is memorised like the back of his hand anyway. He worries in the back of his mind that he may get a speeding ticket, but any fine is worth it for you. He’s sprinting up the stairs of your apartment building, his long frame moving nimbler than ever before. He reaches your apartment and knocks at the door.

You answer the door, dressed in some loungewear and he suddenly realises how real this all is. He stands there staring, unable to do anything else, even as you greet him and tell him to come in. You have to take his arm and pull him inside, your hand on his arm lighting him on fire. But he’s shy again, he needs you to take control of this because he has no clue what he’s doing here. He’s never done something like this before, and he's never been so reckless. Did he even lock the door when he left home? You look so beautiful that everything could be stolen from him and he wouldn’t bat a lash. He fidgets, looking anywhere but your eyes. You’re talking to him but he can’t figure out what you’re saying, his brain feeling like mush. He tries his best to pick out some words from the pleasing hum of your voice. You’re saying something about your bedroom. He connects the dots when you start to pull his arm.

“Wha- wait, what are we doing?” he asks, his voice shaking. You freeze, tilting your head.

“What do you mean what are we doing?”

“I mean– uh– I wasn’t really– are we…?” he stammers, his fingers fidgeting. 

“Don’t you want this?” you frown, worrying you’d misread this somehow, even though he’d come rushing over here. He stares at you, eyebrow twitching. You move closer, gently smoothing your hand up his arm. He closes his eyes, losing himself in it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, even though he’s not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to. Whatever it is, if it’s preceded by you touching him like this, it must be good. He follows you like a puppy as you guide him to your bedroom. You place your hands on his chest and he whines, somewhere deep in his throat. The feeling is just so overwhelming in all the best ways. His eyes are wide staring down into yours as your fingers twist, gripping his sweater vest. You lean up, touching your lips to his and he’s whining again. He kisses back, his hands finding your hips, hovering. Your hands are raking through his hair.

“Lie on the bed for me,” you mumble between kisses. He shivers.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” he asks bluntly, needing to know if he’s getting what he’s been thinking about non-stop since earlier this evening, probably even before that. You chuckle at his candour, he’s always been like this and it’s endearing that he’s no different in this situation.

“That’s the idea,” you grin, tilting your head to the side to press closer as you kiss him. He shuffles toward the bed and you push him back to lie down, disconnecting your lips to pull his sweater vest off. He looks up at you pleadingly until you lean down to kiss him again. You straddle his stomach, his hands lie awkwardly at his sides. His breathing is erratic and his fingers fiddle nervously with the material of your sheets. “You okay?” you ask between slow wet kisses.

“Just nervous… I don’t– I can’t disappoint you and I– I don’t really have a lot of experience here,” he admits, his lips pressing needily against yours between words. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll take care of you,” you promise, he nods against you. Even he’s surprised by how much he trusts you. You pull back, watching as he stares up at you, his eyes practically black. He’s panting heavily. You pull your shirt over your head, feeling his hips buck under you as your breasts come into view. He’d always known every inch of you would be perfect for him, and he was right. He was a genius after all. You move just enough to shed your pyjama pants, taking your underwear with them. You stuff your panties into Spencer’s slack pocket with a wink. He takes a shaky breath. 

“Thank you,” he exhales, eyes drinking you in. You giggle, shuffling up to straddle his chest. He swallows loudly, his mouth watering from the little glimpse he can get, craning his neck. “I’m so… glad we’re doing this,” he whispers. You chuckle again at his behaviour. You stroke his hair gently and his eyes flutter. He usually hated unexpected touch, but everything you did was blissful.

“Ready?” you ask softly. He nods, eyes fluttering back open, determined to get a glimpse of you that he can commit to memory. 

You lift up and shuffle yourself over top of his face. He gasps like he’s just seen God. You, spread open above him, glistening with want. He grips tightly at the sheets, trying to keep himself grounded as the heady smell of you fills his nose. He leans up and places a gentle, experimental kiss on your folds, whining as he does so. You hum softly, leaning forward to brace yourself against the headboard. Puffs of breath wash over your core for a moment, before Spencer leans up, flattening his tongue and laving it against you, up and down, slow and steady. You can tell he’s still finding his way, so you let yourself enjoy the gentle pleasure. You sigh encouragingly as he gets acquainted with the area, exploring it with the tip of his tongue. Never in a million years would he have guessed that you tasted so good. Though he was new at this, he knew anatomy well and knew the spots he’d be looking for. His tongue finds what he assumes to be your clit and he gives it a soft kiss, feeling your hips gently buck. Success. He swirls his tongue carefully around it, not wanting to overwhelm you. Your sighs increase in volume. Spencer takes a chance, lifting his hands and wrapping them around your thighs, pulling you down so you’re more seated on his face. You gasp slightly and he smiles, eagerly returning to his work. His tongue laps at you hungrily, getting into a rhythm. He breathes through his nose, not wanting to stop what he’s doing for even a moment. The taste of you gets stronger and stronger against his tongue as you approach your peak steadily. He groans at the taste. Your hand snakes down into his hair, gripping his long locks to keep yourself anchored. You moan above him, your head lolled forward against the headboard. As he starts to focus his tongue more pointedly on your clit, flicking gently like he read to do in a book once, your hips rut slightly. 

“Suck it,” you pant. He doesn’t register your words for a moment but when he does, he happily complies. His lips close around the little nub and he sucks carefully. Your hand tightens in his hair and you wail in pleasure. You grind yourself down onto his face as he suckles at you gently. You both know what’s coming and while Spencer is thrilled he could get you there, he almost doesn’t want it to end. It’s as if you read his mind. “Don’t stop,” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging slightly into his scalp. He pulls you closer to his face, focusing all his efforts. He switches fumblingly between licks and sucks, but it seems to be working nonetheless as you become louder and louder. “Oh! Spencer!” you cry out, your whole body shuddering. He almost comes in his pants at the sound of it. “Ooooh!” you wail, reaching your peak. Your body tenses and then releases, going limp with bliss. His lips stop moving and he stares up at you, waiting for your next move. “Oh, that was amazing Spencer,” you sigh, sluggishly moving down his body until your faces are level. He licks his lips, gazing at you adoringly. You reach up to wipe his wet chin with a small smile.

“I was okay, then?” he chuckles nervously, his hand coming to your waist, a little unsure.

“What do you think, genius?” you tease, kissing his temple. He sighs and flutters his eyes closed. Everything had happened so fast, he wasn’t sure what this meant for the two of you and your friendship, so blinded by lust when he got over here. But you were kissing down his jaw and neck, not indicating that you were kicking him out, and he felt a little better for it. He notices that your lips are straying quite low, over his chest and stomach through his shirt. His eyes flutter open and his breath hitches as he sees you gazing seductively up at him.

“Wha–?” he stammers as you start to unbuckle his belt.

“Returning the favour,” you smile, pressing kisses where his shirt had ridden up. He moans softly, his brain starting to turn to mush once more.

“God, I love you,” he gasps. You both go still for a moment as his words sink in. He can’t believe he just said that, especially right now, with your head hovering over his crotch, even if he desperately means it. He opens his mouth to try and fix this but you beat him to it. You press a kiss just below his belly button.

“I love you too,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[covenofagatha]

could you write something about divorced reader and agatha? them being mothers to a child, both decided to put what happened that lead to the divorce aside and keep communicating to each other as to try and keep a health relationship with their kid. they think their kid deserves to have both mothers present in his or her life.

then one day agatha discovers that reader is planning to go on a date, meaning she's trying to move on with her life. agatha is furious (in the jealous way), they argue a lot, it's very angst, full of emotions, they end up fucking and in the end they talk to each other about trying to restart things to be together again. they know it's not going to be easy but they realize their feelings for each other are still there. thank you!! (if you could angst and nsfw)

Okay this is genuinely one of my favorite things i've ever written so I really hope everyone likes it

Also my first time writing real angst so hopefully it wasn't terrible

Title is from a Taylor Swift song

That's when

Word count: 6100

Warnings: angst, smut, hate sex, fingering, scratching, biting

Going to be a few minutes late to pick-up today, got caught up at work. 

The text from your ex-wife makes you chuckle humorlessly. Of course she did. 

“What’s wrong, Mama?” You look up from your phone at the four year old bundle of joy you and Agatha shared. 

You give him a smile. “Nothing, Nicky. Mommy’s just going to be a little late today.” He shrugs and goes back to playing with his toys. 

You can’t stop the twinge of bitterness growing in your chest as you give a thumbs to the message, not even giving her a dignified response. 

Was it stupid to think that anything would change? 

When you and Agatha had first gotten married, you saw forever with her. She made you happier than you had ever been, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. She always knew how to make you laugh and feel loved, and she was such an amazing partner. 

Plus the sex was mind blowing. She made you feel things you didn’t even know it was possible to feel. The older woman knew exactly what you needed all the time and it was like your body had been made for her. 

A year into the marriage, you both decided you wanted to have a child. Agatha carried the baby, using a donation from a sperm center, and then Nicholas was born. 

The moment you first saw Agatha holding him in the hospital room, your heart exploded with all the love in the world. You had kissed Agatha’s sweaty lips and told her that you loved her and Nicky more than life itself and that nothing was ever going to change that. She had told you that everything she’d ever wanted was right here in this room.

And for the first few years, things were really good. 

Agatha went back to work after her maternity leave ended, so you stayed home with Nicky. Some days were harder than others, but Agatha always made sure to come home as soon as possible to give you a break. She would cook dinner for everyone and after Nicky went to bed, she would hold you on the couch and the two of you would just soak each other in. 

But then, after Nicky had turned three, something started to change. He was in his toddler phase, so being home with him all day started to take a toll on you. Agatha would come home and find you absolutely exhausted, but at that point, she was moving up higher on the corporate ladder, so she was tired too. It felt like a distance had grown between you, and you didn’t know what was happening. 

She started to stay late at work, the need to become a partner at her law firm becoming all-consuming.

You still remember the first time it happened, the first time you tucked in Nicky alone, his big, sad, brown eyes looking up at you and asking why Mommy didn’t want to come home and see him. 

Your heart had clenched and you had to blink back tears before telling him that she was just busy at work and would come in and kiss him goodnight when she was able to. 

That had been the first fight of many about it with your wife. 

You had told her that she wasn’t putting her family first. She had told you that you weren’t giving her enough credit for everything she was doing for you and Nicky. You had told her that all you wanted was for her to be here to tuck your child in. She had told you that you weren’t being fair or understanding about her job. 

Agatha had slept on the couch that night and was gone before you woke up the next morning. 

Deep down, you could tell it was going to be the beginning of the end if something didn’t change. 

So you tried to. You tried to control your anger whenever she was late, you tried to make the best of it for you and Nicky. Bedtimes became a special thing for the two of you, when you would read him a story and kiss his forehead and then slip out once he drifted off to sleep. 

He stopped asking where Agatha was entirely. 

Occasionally a tense comment would escape from you when she got home an hour or two later and it would turn into an argument. 

That arrangement went on for almost a year, but fights were getting more common between the two of you. She made you feel crazy for being upset, which in turn, only made you more upset. 

One time, you told her that she needed to make more of an effort or else and she had scoffed. You had seen red and gotten in her face and you were almost yelling when she shoved you against the wall and shut you up by furiously kissing you. Her fingers had slipped down into your pants and she fucked you for the first time in months. 

You didn’t know hate sex could be so hot. 

After that, things seemed to be getting better and you thought that maybe the two of you had just needed to blow off steam. Your sex life certainly seemed to be back on track. 

And then it was Nicky’s fourth birthday. 

Agatha and you had planned a big party and invited all the kids from his daycare to your house for pizza, cake, and a bounce house. It was the first time in a while that you actually felt like your marriage was on steady ground, like you were on the same page again. 

You remember smiling at her in the kitchen while hanging streamers and thinking that everything was going to be okay, because you loved her and more importantly, she loved you. 

But then she got a phone call and your heart dropped when she left the room to take it. 

When she came back in five minutes later, a pained expression on her face, you felt nauseous. Of course. 

“It’s just going to be a short thing,” she had promised, and you had begged her not to go. It was Nicky’s birthday, he needed both of his moms and it was her day off. You told her that if she left, you didn’t think you could ever forgive her. 

She left anyway, vowing to be back within an hour. 

You weren’t even upset this time. You were just numb. 

The party went by in a blur and it didn’t even feel like you were present in your body. The only thing you remember was finding Nicky sitting under the table while all his friends ran around the yard and crouching down to ask him what was wrong. 

And he had looked up at you, bottom lip quivering, and told you that the only thing he wanted for his birthday was for Mommy to not have to work so much so that the three of you could be together again. 

You had to turn your head and bite onto your finger so you wouldn’t cry in front of him, barely holding it together while you consoled him and promised that Agatha would be back soon. 

Except an hour passed, and she wasn’t back yet. 

The party ended another hour after that and she still wasn’t home. 

After you had rocked a sobbing Nicky to sleep that night, you had gone downstairs, poured yourself a generous glass of wine, and sat by the fireplace, waiting for Agatha. 

And finally, at a quarter until ten, the front door swung open. Your wife crept in, gently setting her keys down so as to not cause a disturbance, and then turned to go upstairs. 

“You said an hour,” you said in a shockingly calm voice, startling her, making her freeze. She launched into an excuse about getting a new case and it was a really big one and she couldn’t get away, but you had cut her off and told her that you didn’t want to hear it. Thus started your biggest fight yet. 

You called her selfish and told her that she was being a bad mother to her child, she told you that you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like for her because you didn’t have a job. You had argued that it shouldn’t matter, that she needed to sort out her priorities, and she said that you needed to stop nagging and accept that she was an integral part of her company now. 

“You’re also an integral part of this family,” you had snapped. “Nicky needs both his moms. He was crying today because you weren’t there, Agatha. He said all he wanted was for you to work less. You need to fix this.” 

She had just stared at you like she didn’t understand what you were saying. “I’m so close to having everything I want. Just give me a few more months.” That was like a stab in the heart.

“A few more months until what? Until you become a partner and have to work even more?” Tears were streaming down your face in the flicker of the fire. “Since when is this not everything you want? Since when are me and Nicky not enough?” Your voice had broken at the end but you didn’t care.

A hint of pain appeared on her face but she had hardened. “I have to do this. You can either stand by my decision or not.” 

To this day, you don’t even remember squeezing the wine glass so hard that it shattered, but the next thing you knew, there was a sharp pain in your palm. You had looked down to see shards embedded in your skin, but the blood made you eerily calm. The wound was almost a wake-up call, a physical manifestation of what she was doing to your family. 

You met her eyes again. “I’m not going to stand by it. I’m done, Agatha. I’m not going to put Nicky or myself through this torture anymore.” 

You could tell that she wasn’t expecting it; she opened her mouth to say something but you had breezed by her to go upstairs, feeling lighter than you had in awhile. 

You had called a lawyer the next day. A small part of you kept hoping that she would promise to do better and beg to work it out. You would’ve called it off in a heartbeat. 

But she didn’t. 

The divorce was simple, for the most part. You had both agreed that you wanted it to be painless for Nicky so you decided that you would be civil and put your problems aside for his sake. He deserved to have both his mothers in his life, and the two of you were going to make that happen as cordially as possible. 

Nicky took the news about as well as any four year old would, but you both assured him that you loved him very much and that this wasn’t a bad thing. 

Things were awkward at first, especially Sundays at six when she would pick him up from you and vice versa. You didn’t know how to talk to the woman you swore you’d die with anymore, but four months in now, it’s gotten easier.

There’s light conversation now, maybe even some casual joking. But it always ends the same way: a terse smile, a kiss on Nicky’s cheek, and then a strained wave before the door closes.

You miss her, though. The way she smelled when you cuddled with her, the way her lips felt tracing your skin, the way she would laugh at some stupid joke you made. 

You try to ignore the pang in your heart whenever Nicky talks about her. It’s honestly been good for their relationship, now she has to make time for him because she doesn’t have you to depend on. 

If only she could’ve done that four months ago. 

And yet, it seems like she’s still putting work first, if being late today is any indication.

“Mommy says we’re gonna go to the park tomorrow!” Nicky squeals, jolting you out of your acrimonious thoughts. 

You look back at your son. “Oh, yeah? That will be a lot of fun, won’t it?” 

He nods. “She’s gonna push me on the swings! I went so high last time I almost touched space. It was so cool.” 

“Wow, Nicky!” You exclaim, laughing despite yourself. “You better be careful though. I’d miss you too much if you went to space.” 

He frowns, deep in thought. “I’d miss you and Mommy. Maybe you could both come!” His face brightens like he just told you a million-dollar idea. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” you say softly, leaning over to tousle his hair, and the doorbell rings. Every time she does that instead of just walking in, it feels strange. This used to be the home you two shared. You give Nicky a tight smile. “Go get your stuff.” He runs up to his room and you go answer the door. Agatha looks as good as ever and you swallow hard. You knew the whole thing was going to be tough, but you didn’t think being so close to her but somehow so far away at the same time would be the worst part.

“Sorry I’m late,” your ex-wife says, sounding genuinely apologetic. You shrug, not wanting to start anything. 

“Don’t worry about it. Nicky’s just grabbing his stuff.” Except it’s taking longer than you thought, so the two of you are just stuck standing there, trying to avoid eye contact. Some pick-ups are better than others.

“Um, so how are things? How have you been?” Agatha asks. 

“Oh, yeah, good. You know, starting to look for a job just to have something to do. Maybe down at the community center,” you tell her. She nods interestedly. 

“That would be good, yeah,” she says. She’s clearly racking her brain for more small talk to make. 

“And you?” You ask before the silence gets too much to bear again. 

She looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to say. Her work has become sort of a sore subject to talk about, especially now. “I actually just made partner,” she says finally. 

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” It sounds hollow even to your ears. “So, um–” You start a sentence before knowing where it’s going, but thankfully, Nicky runs downstairs at that very moment. 

“Hi Mommy!” He cries out, sprinting over and almost knocking the wind out of her when he barrels into her with a hug. She takes a step back when she absorbs the hit and you instinctively reach a hand out to grab onto her to keep her balanced. 

Her eyes meet yours, a jolt running through you when you realize this is the first time in four months that you’ve actually touched her. 

You yank your hand back before you get too carried away in your thoughts. 

“There’s my little prince,” Agatha says, ruffling his hair, still looking at you. “Did you have a good week?” 

He lifts his head to peer up at her and she finally breaks away from your stare. “It was fun! Jack let me have some of his chips.” You chuckle, remembering the day he had come home from daycare and happily told you that he had made a new friend. Agatha quizzically glances at you and you shake your head fondly. 

“Wow, well I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she says, matching his energy, and you feel your throat pinch. Despite everything, Agatha was a great mom when she was around. “Alright, are you ready to go? I’m thinking we can get pizza for dinner?” 

“Yes!” Nicky pumps his fist and lets go of her to throw his arms around you. “Bye, Mama. I’ll see you next week.” 

You lean down and kiss his cheek. “Have a great week, okay, baby?” He nods, eyes sparkling like they always do. 

You stand back up and Agatha gives you a smile before leading Nicky back to her car. Watching them drive away tugs at your stomach like it always does, and when you can no longer see them, you go back inside to the empty house.

Grief rolls over you in waves sometimes when you’re alone, and this is one of those times. It’s like you’re being pulled under the surface if you think too hard about what it used to be like before things started getting bad. 

This home used to be full of love and warmth and happiness. 

Now it’s a cold, vacant shell of memories. Even the silence feels too loud as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine.

You drink a lot more when Nicky is with Agatha, and you find yourself wondering if she’s as affected as you are. 

Doubt it, you snort. She’s probably living her best life on her off-week, when she can come home at whatever time she wants and doesn’t have a nagging wife to answer to. 

You settle on the couch, glass in hand, and scroll through your phone. You down it quickly, and then another, and you decide to keep going. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re absolutely hammered. 

Fuck Agatha. Fuck her for choosing her job over you and Nicky. Fuck her for tearing your family apart. You would’ve been so happy with her. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. 

And now, what? You’re just supposed to start over? With some random woman? Supposed to go on first dates again, and talk about your favorite color, while the person who you loved the most and knew everything about you ripped out your heart?

Fuck Agatha. 

And then you get a genius idea. Maybe you should date. It could be meaningless, just a way for some company, maybe even sex. 

You’ve been waiting, hoping, for Agatha to change her mind. But she’s a partner at her firm now. 

She’s made her choice. 

Giggling out loud to yourself, you download Tinder and set up a profile. You scroll through your camera roll and are depressed when there’s mostly only pictures of you and Agatha, you and Nicky, or the three of you together. 

So you take some. Selfies have never been your thing, but in your drunken state, you have never been more confident. Some of the pictures you take are soft, some are a bit sexier, some are neutral. 

You upload them all, set the location for within five miles, and get to swiping. 

At first, it feels wrong, like you’re cheating on Agatha. When you get nervous, you still find yourself fiddling with the spot where her ring used to be, because it used to bring you comfort. The imprint she has on your soul will forever be there, you think. 

But it’s done. 

You steel your nerves and keep going, but no one is catching your eye. You frown, disgruntled, until finally you get to an attractive woman. 

Rio. 41. Loves nature and witchy things. 

You click through her pictures and are intrigued. You have a thing for brunettes, and her brown eyes are pretty pools of honey with a knowing look in them. There’s something intense about her, but you can’t ignore how hot she is. 

Before you can think twice, you swipe right and your stomach lurches when it says you have a match. 

Heart racing, you tap on the message icon, staring at the page. Do you make the first move or wait?

The alcohol decides for you. 

Hey. You hit send and immediately inwardly kick yourself. What a stupid thing to say. 

You turn off your phone and pinch the bridge of your nose until it buzzes in your lap. You look down and find that Rio replied. 

Nice pictures. 

You squint and click back to your profile, and attempt to really study them with a clear head. Turns out, all of them are blurry and it’s incredibly hard to make out any distinct features. You raise your phone again to take a new one and this time, you make sure that it’s clear before sending it straight to her with the message: Sorrrry i’m drung

It’s wrong, but you don’t care enough to correct it. 

Wow, doll. I’m glad you posted the blurry ones because you are too hot for anyone else to see. 

A blush spreads through your cheeks. It’s the first time you’ve been flirted with in ages. Feeling emboldened, you send a flirty text back. 

You keep talking for hours, until as you’re dozing off, she texts and asks you if you want to get dinner tomorrow night. 

The question is like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you and you start to panic. Thoughts of Agatha swirl in your mind, meeting her in a cafe, your first date, the first time she touched you, her proposing, her on your wedding day, her and Nicky in the hospital the day he was born –

– her working late, making Nicky cry, making you tuck in your child alone and explaining that of course Mommy still loves him and she’s just really busy, making you wait up to see her, breaking your heart a million times over again because she refused to change. 

You exhale slowly. 

I’d love to. You type back, and you turn off your phone before you can second guess yourself. 

You fall asleep on the couch, phone still in hand, a war being waged in your heart. 

The next morning, you’re awoken by your phone buzzing. You groan and hold it up in front of your face to find Agatha calling you. 

“Hello?” You say groggily, rubbing your head. 

You can tell she’s in the car by the loud sounds. Probably on her way to work. You roll your eyes, and then feel guilty. “Hey, Nicky realized that he left his pair of flip flops at yours and I was going to take him to the pool tomorrow. Can I come stop by this afternoon and pick them up?” 

You raise an eyebrow. “The pool on a Tuesday?” Who is this woman, and what has she done with your ex-wife? 

“I know, I know,” Agatha chuckles and it’s nice to hear her laugh. “I took off the afternoon because he’s been wanting to go swimming. Thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

You try to ignore the effort she’s putting in now versus when you were married. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be here pretty much all day. Just text first.” You don’t mention the date with Rio, you don’t even wait for her to respond before hanging up. 

Trying to push Agatha and Rio out of your mind, you go take a shower to wash the smell of alcohol off you, and then run some errands. Grocery shopping is always easier when it’s your off-week but you still find yourself reaching for Froot Loops and Dinosaur nuggets. 

It’s about four in the afternoon when Agatha texts you that she’s on her way. You’re in denial about why you make sure your hair looks nice or you put on a bit of makeup, but it’s the first time you and Agatha have been alone since the divorce. 

Not that that has any correlation. 

And then the doorbell rings and your palms start to sweat. 

You swing the door open to find her leaned against the pillar outside, wearing a suit that has your chest squeezing. It’s your favorite, the maroon one that hugs her curves perfectly and the one she’s fucked you in more times than you can count. 

Agatha doesn’t wait for you to invite her, just walks in and up the stairs to Nicky’s room. You chase after her. 

“I’m surprised you’re not working right now,” you say, and she gives you a warning look. 

“I’m a partner now,” she answers, rummaging through Nicky’s closet to find his shoes. “I can delegate the busy work to others in the office.” 

You hum and reach around her to pull his flip-flops off a shelf and hold them up to her. You organized his room, you know where everything is. 

“Thanks,” she says, taking them, standing up, and awkwardly waiting for you to move first. 

You glance around the room to see if there’s anything else he would need for swimming. “Does he have his swim suit?” 

“I have a few pairs for him,” she replies, watching you carefully. You tuck your hair behind your ear, another nervous habit. 

“Well, guess he should be all set then.” You clap your hands together and she smiles sadly and walks out of the room. She pauses in the hallway next to your room, the room you used to share, and your breath catches, but she keeps moving toward the stairwell. 

“Do you, uh,” Agatha starts, turning around when she gets to the kitchen. You freeze. “Maybe want to have a drink or dinner or do something tonight? Nicky has a playdate with one of his friends, so it’ll just be me. Figured we could both use the company.” 

“I actually have plans,” you say carefully. Part of you wants to cancel with Rio, but you know you shouldn’t. This could be good for you. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow. “Working late?” She jokes, although it doesn’t land how she wants it and you both know it. 

“I have a date.” 

And it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You see the exact moment Agatha’s face changes, becomes darker almost. 

“What?” She growls. “With who?” 

You chew on your lip until she asks again. “I went on Tinder last night.” You don’t offer more than that, but her lip curls and you can tell that she’s angry. 

“So now you’re just whoring yourself out online?” She spits and your blood boils. “You were going to, what, bring some slut to the house my child sleeps in?”

“He’s not here this week, Agatha,” you remind her and she scoffs like it doesn’t matter. “You haven’t been on a date yet?” Now that’s a surprise to you. 

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m too-“ 

“Busy? Yeah, tell me about it,” you cut her off, poison dripping in your tone and she fixes you with a glare, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“Don’t even fucking go there,” she warns. “That’s what this is always about with you. I’m so fucking sorry that I was ambitious and wanted more.” The sarcasm hits you like a brick and you grit your teeth. 

“It was about more than that and you know it,” you snarl. “You constantly neglected Nicky and I, you put everything else above us. You weren’t there for your own son’s birthday party, so fucking sue me for going on a date. We’re divorced, I can do whatever the fuck I want. At least she won’t completely ignore me.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say and you know it the second it leaves your mouth. She explodes. “Ignore you? I didn’t ignore you, do you even hear yourself? I tried to be there for you, I really did, and now you’re just throwing that away. I was doing the best I could, I was under so much stress with my job and then a toddler, I was fucking drowning.” 

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?” You cry out, digging your nails into your palms. “You could’ve told me how you were struggling instead of just fighting with me! And I’m not throwing it away now, Aggie, you were the one who did that when you gave me that ultimatum.” You can hear her breath suck in when you call her that nickname and tears prick your eyes. How did you two get here? 

“I didn’t think you would just give up,” she says, voice strangled, and a weight comes crashing down on you. 

“What?” You whisper, and for the first time, you can see that the older woman is affected too, hurting. 

She wipes her eyes and sniffs. “I didn’t think you would just walk away like you did. I thought you’d say that we could work it out, like you always do.” 

And then you get it. That night, she wanted you to cave again. She thought you would give in and let her get away with it. Like you always did. “Stop,” you say coldly and she looks at you with surprise. “You don’t get to manipulate me anymore and turn this on me. I tried so hard to fix this and to be okay with it, but you were never going to change. Except now you have, for Nicky. So what, was I just not worth it?” 

“Do you know how many times I wish I had changed? I should have listened, I’m sorry,” she says, and you wish you could believe it. 

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m going on this date and you should go,” you snap. You start to walk out of the kitchen and to the front door when her hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You move your arm, trying to get free, but she yanks you back against her, your chest colliding with hers. 

You lose the ability to breathe and you try to avoid looking at her lips as she walks you backwards until you hit the wall. 

“Tell me you don’t still think about me,” she hisses into your ear. “Tell me you don’t miss the way I made you moan louder than anyone else ever has. Tell me you don’t miss the way I fuck you.” 

Your nose twitches in anger and you lean in closer to her. “I don’t,” you glower, even though it’s not the truth at all. She knows it too. Her grip on your arm tightens. 

“Really?” Her voice is slippery smooth now, dropping an octave to the tone that always made your stomach heat up. “When you’re alone in this big house, you don’t think about my fingers or my mouth or my cock, fucking you the way only I can?” 

You shiver, body betraying you. But you hold your ground and deny it again. 

Her other hand comes up and pulls your hair, forcing your head to the side, and she puts her face next to your ear. “You forget, baby, I know what it looks like when you lie.” Her tongue licks your earlobe and you bite back a moan. 

It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve been touched. You’d have this reaction if it was anyone else, you tell yourself. 

“Do you really think that Tinder slut can fuck you right? Let me tell you a secret,” she says dangerously, one hand sliding down your body and stopping at the waistband of your shorts, giving you ample time to stop her. You don’t and she smirks, knowing she’s won. “She can’t. Only I can.” 

Her fingers dip inside and cup you over your underwear and your mind goes blank. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t think about me while you’re this wet? You’re an even worse liar than I remember,” she taunts, but you don’t care. 

You need this too bad.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you bark, moving your hips over her hand, trying to get any kind of stimulation you can. She doesn’t give you what you want. 

“Tell me the truth,” she coos. 

You’re so angry right now, but you also haven’t felt this alive in four months, so you drag her in for a bruising kiss. Her teeth clash against yours and she practically shoves her tongue down your throat and roughly bites your lower lip. You moan into her mouth and rip your arm free out of her grasp so you can scramble to get her suit jacket off. 

Figures this would be happening while she’s wearing that. 

You claw at her bare shoulders, making sure to rake your nails across her skin and she hisses with pain, so you do it again. She trails her lips down and sinks her teeth in hard to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. You yelp but it quickly turns into a moan when she moves your underwear to the side and shoves two fingers inside your waiting cunt. 

Agatha’s head drops back as your eyes roll in your head. “Fuck, baby girl, I’ve missed this,” she sighs and you pull her to you urgently for another kiss, needing to make up for lost time. 

It’s like nothing changed at all, and yet everything has, when she sets the same familiar fast pace from all those times before. 

“She’s not gonna know what you need,” Agatha pants against your lips, thumb roughly swiping at your clit, pulling frantic gasps from your mouth. “Only I do. God, I’ve missed your cunt. Say it.” 

“I’ve missed your fingers,” you finally give in and groan. 

She thrusts them particularly hard and it has you clenching around her, biting onto her shoulder. 

“And?” She urges. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whimper, and she rewards you with a twist of her digits that has you groaning. 

“Good girl,” she moans. “I’ve missed you, too.” Her admission sounds choked, and it makes the fire only burn brighter in your stomach. 

And you want more. “Tell me you think about me,” you beg, and she raises an eyebrow, stopping her thrusts to fit a third finger into you. She curls them and you whine. 

“I fucking think about you all the time,” she says like it pains her. “I miss you so fucking much.” Your breaths are intermingling with how close you are and you lift a leg up so she can get in deeper. 

“I think about you too and I fucking hate it,” you snarl witheringly and she just chuckles and scissors her fingers inside you, effectively cutting your words off for a second. “You’re always on my mind and I can’t get you out of it.” 

You’re getting closer and you know she can tell by the way your walls are fluttering around her. 

“Tell me you still want me,” she orders and you keen, hands grappling around her to pull her even closer if it’s possible. You’ve missed her so much, the way she feels against you. Everything feels right again. 

You’re clenching, getting tenser, and you know you’re about to cum. But she slows her movements and you think you could cry. 

“Tell me the truth and I’ll keep going,” she says, voice getting softer. Tears form in your eyes and you know that you’re about to change anything. 

You press your lips to hers and then pull back. “I still want you, Aggie, I still fucking love you so much.” 

And her eyes get a feral look in them that you’ve rarely seen, even when she gets most possessive. 

“Say it again,” she demands, voice low, as she starts fucking you roughly again. 

“I love you, I still love you,” you practically sob and she kisses you harder than she ever has. 

“I still love you too,” she says into your open mouth, and you cum all over her fingers. 

She gently thrusts into you while you come down from one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. 

“I should’ve made more time for you and Nicky,” Agatha says softly. “I’m sorry, baby. I went too far and I wasn’t listening but I promise, I want to do better this time. Please, just give me another chance.” 

This is the first time you’ve ever believed her. You’ve already seen what she’s doing when she has Nicky. And to be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever stop loving her. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, just needing to be certain. “We have a lot to work on.” 

She nods. “I know, baby girl. But I love you and these last four months have been hell. I know it won’t be easy but I want to make this work. For you and for Nicky.” 

Overwhelmed, you pull her in for a long hug, finally admitting to yourself how much you need her. It felt like there was a piece missing from you, and you just got it back. 

“Okay,” you say and you feel her smile against your cheek. “Let’s do it.” 

She kisses you so sweetly it reminds you of your wedding day and then breaks it to laugh happily. 

“So what now?” You ask. 

She smirks. “I think you have a date to cancel.”