#and i go into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror and i don't recognize myself

[aspenmissing]

ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 4934 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ, ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ, ꜱɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ.

ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

JAYCE

The sun had long dipped below the Piltover skyline when Jayce finally saw the door to the hospital swing open. His heart jumped to his throat as Y/N stepped out, her arm encased in a pristine white cast. She looked exhausted, though she offered him a small smile. He was on his feet in an instant, rushing to her side.

"Y/N," he breathed, his hands hovering near her as if unsure whether to touch her or not. His warm brown eyes were flooded with concern. "How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?"

"I'm fine, Jayce," she said, her voice soft and reassuring. "It’s just a broken arm. I’ll live."

But that didn’t stop him from looking her over like she was made of glass. He took her good hand gently in his and began walking with her, his free hand instinctively moving to the small of her back to guide her. When they got home, he made her sit down immediately, fussing over pillows, blankets, and a glass of water she hadn’t asked for.

That night, when he finally sat beside her, he moved in to hug her but paused halfway, his arms hovering.

"Jayce," she teased lightly, though she couldn’t help the warmth in her tone. "You’re not going to break me."

"I just don’t want to hurt you," he murmured, closing the gap slowly and pressing a careful kiss to her forehead.

=

The weeks passed, and while Y/N grew used to her cast, Jayce never stopped treating her like she might shatter at the slightest touch. His constant doting was both endearing and exasperating, and Y/N found herself looking forward to the day her arm was healed if only to spare him the worry.

No matter what she tried to do, Jayce was always there, hovering, ready to take over before she even had the chance to begin. If she so much as reached for a glass of water, he was there to grab it for her.

"Jayce," she said one morning as she shuffled into the kitchen, her good hand brushing through her hair. "I think I can pour myself some juice."

But before she could even pick up the carton, Jayce swooped in, grabbing it with his usual efficiency and pouring it into a glass. He turned to her with a satisfied smile, holding the glass out like a peace offering.

"I’ve got it," he said cheerfully.

She groaned but accepted the juice, muttering under her breath, "I’m not useless."

Things only got worse when it came to her daily routines. One evening, as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror with her toothbrush in hand, Jayce appeared behind her, arms crossed.

"You shouldn’t be twisting your wrist like that," he said, his tone dripping with concern.

"Jayce," she replied, her tone flat, "I think I can manage brushing my teeth."

"Sure, but what if you accidentally put too much pressure on your arm?" He leaned forward, reaching for the toothbrush.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You are not brushing my teeth for me."

"Just let me help—"

"Jayce!"

He backed off, though he still watched her like a hawk until she finished, muttering something about how she was being "too stubborn for her own good."

The same scenario repeated itself with nearly everything else. When she tried to brush her hair, Jayce would gently take the brush from her hand, insisting, "I’ll do it for you. You shouldn’t strain yourself."

When it came to meals, he practically insisted on cutting up her food. One time, she tried to pick up a fork, only for him to gently but firmly take it from her hand.

"Jayce, I can feed myself," she protested, her voice tinged with exasperation.

"But it’s easier this way," he replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "Just let me take care of you."

"You mean ‘smother me,’" she muttered, though she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

By the end of the third week, Y/N was ready to scream—or laugh, depending on her mood. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Jayce’s care; it was just that his over-the-top devotion made her feel more helpless than her injury ever had.

Still, for all her frustration, there was no denying how much he loved her. Late at night, when he thought she was asleep, he’d press the softest kisses to her cast and whisper, "I’m so sorry this happened. I’ll take care of you, I promise."

And despite everything, Y/N couldn’t help but smile in those moments. As maddening as Jayce’s overprotectiveness was, his heart was always in the right place.

=

The day finally came. When the doctor removed her cast, Y/N sighed in relief as she flexed her fingers, revelling in the newfound freedom. Beside her, Jayce stood like an overbearing guardian, peppering the doctor with an endless stream of questions.

"How long until she’s fully healed? Is there anything she shouldn’t do? What about heavy lifting—can she—?"

The doctor smiled patiently. "She’ll need to be cautious for a while. The arm’s still regaining strength, so no overexertion or high-impact activities just yet."

Jayce nodded solemnly, taking every word to heart as if it were gospel.

=

Back home, the mood was lighter. Y/N was thrilled to have her arm back, stretching it gingerly and revelling in the small victories of brushing her own hair or pouring her own drink without interference. Still, Jayce couldn’t entirely suppress his protective instincts, hovering nearby like a nervous parent ready to jump in at the slightest sign of trouble.

That evening, the playful energy between them sparked into a full-blown argument when Jayce made a cheeky comment about Y/N’s cooking skills. Her response was swift—a cushion hurled directly at his chest.

"Oh, it’s on now," Jayce declared, his tone mock-serious as he lunged towards her with comically slow movements.

Y/N shrieked in laughter, dodging to the side, but he caught her waist, pulling her down onto the floor in a tangle of giggles. They wrestled half-heartedly, their laughter echoing through the room.

But then it happened.

As Jayce shifted his weight, his knee accidentally pressed against her recently healed arm. The sharp snap that followed was like a thunderclap in the room. Y/N’s laughter cut off with a pained gasp, her face twisting in agony as she clutched her arm.

Jayce froze, his eyes widening in horror. His face drained of all colour as he whispered, "Y/N?"

"Oh, no," Y/N groaned, her tone a mix of frustration and pain. "Jayce, I think you—"

"I broke it again," he finished, his voice cracking with panic. He scrambled off her, his hands flying to his head. "Oh, gods, I broke it again! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I—"

"Jayce," she hissed through gritted teeth, trying to sit up despite the searing pain. "Stop panicking and help me!"

Her sharp tone snapped him out of his spiral. He was at her side in an instant, carefully cradling her as he helped her to her feet, though his hands trembled with guilt.

"I can’t believe I did this," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "I’m the worst. I’ll carry you to the hospital. Or, no, I’ll call someone—"

"Jayce," Y/N interrupted, her voice firm but soft. She reached up with her good hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. "It’s fine. It was an accident. Let’s just get to the hospital before you spiral any further, alright?"

He nodded mutely, swallowing hard as he supported her out the door, his face a picture of guilt and worry.

=

By the time they reached the hospital, Jayce’s panic had given way to quiet determination. He sat by her side the entire time, holding her non hurt hand tightly and murmuring apologies under his breath as though the words could undo the damage.

When it was all over and they were finally heading home, Jayce couldn’t help but glance at her sheepishly. "You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?"

Y/N chuckled despite the dull ache in her arm, her tone filled with teasing warmth. "Not a chance, big guy. But for now, maybe stick to hugs instead of play fights."

Jayce grinned, though the guilt still lingered in his eyes. "Deal," he said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked home. This time, he’d be careful. No more play fights—at least not until she declared herself ready.

VIKTOR

The shimmer of Piltover's golden hour streamed through the lab's wide windows, painting the room in hues of amber and gold. The soft hum of machinery mixed with the faint crackle of an experimental device on the far side of the room. Workbenches were laden with blueprints, half-assembled mechanisms, and jars filled with odd-looking components, all arranged in a chaos only Viktor could decipher.

At his desk, Viktor was hunched over a delicate contraption, his hands deftly twisting a screwdriver into place. His cane leaned against the table, but he occasionally reached out to tap it against the floor, the sound rhythmic and faintly metallic. It served as a subconscious metronome to his thoughts, a steady reminder of his focus.

Across the room, Y/N sat on a stool, her leg propped up on a haphazard stack of thick books, including a dusty tome on hextech theory. Her foot and leg were encased in pristine white bandages, stretching from her knee to her toes. A sleek crutch leaned against the workbench beside her, catching the light from the window as though mocking her injury.

“You know,” Viktor drawled without looking up from his work, his accent laced with wry amusement, “I did not think you’d try to match me in this way. I must admit, it’s flattering.”

Y/N raised a brow, reaching for a pencil from the cluttered table. She lobbed it at him with precision, and Viktor tilted his head just enough to let it sail past him. It clattered harmlessly to the floor, and he smirked, finally glancing at her.

“Flattering?” she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re lucky I can’t chase you down right now.”

“Lucky indeed,” Viktor replied, his tone thick with mock sincerity. “Though, I would have out-walked you anyway. My cane, you see, has years of experience. Your… crutch?” He motioned to it with a small flick of his fingers. “It’s still in training.”

Y/N let out a scoff, adjusting her position on the stool as she folded her arms. “Oh, we’re doing this, are we? For your information, I’ve already mastered the art of moving with this thing. Observe—grace in motion!”

She grabbed the crutch and pushed herself to her feet, balancing precariously as she exaggerated a swing of her body. She wobbled almost immediately, the crutch slipping slightly on the polished floor, forcing her to grip it tighter to avoid tumbling.

Viktor leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. A soft chuckle escaped him, low and smug. “Graceful indeed. Perhaps we should call it The Dancing Crutch.”

“Ha-ha,” Y/N deadpanned, planting the crutch back on the ground with a firm thud. “Alright, show-off. What makes your cane so much better, then?”

Viktor lifted his cane from its resting spot, twirling it lightly in his hand. “Ah, where to begin?” he mused, inspecting it with exaggerated reverence. “It is perfectly balanced, the weight distributed just so. It is an extension of myself—functional, elegant, and entirely superior.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N retorted, rolling her eyes. “Your cane squeaks when you walk too fast.”

His brow arched. “Squeaks, you say?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, her grin widening. “And don’t act like you don’t know it. Every time you sneak up on me, it gives you away.”

“Ah, but that is my plan,” Viktor countered, leaning forward slightly, the mischievous glint in his amber eyes growing brighter. “The squeak is a distraction. By the time you hear it, it is already too late.”

Y/N snorted, unable to hold back her laughter. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Viktor said, standing with deliberate slowness, testing his weight on the cane before stepping forward, “I am still better at this than you.” He moved to the centre of the room, spinning the cane deftly in his hand like a sword. Twirling it once more, he planted it firmly on the ground with a dramatic flourish, bowing slightly as though he’d just performed for an audience.

“Precision and flair,” he declared, looking at her expectantly.

Y/N burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “Oh, Viktor, that was brilliant. You’ve missed your calling as a circus performer.”

He gave a mock bow. “Your turn, of course. Let us see the power of The Dancing Crutch.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Y/N said, determination glinting in her eyes. She grabbed her crutch, rising carefully to her feet and grimacing slightly as she adjusted to the weight on her uninjured leg. She turned to Viktor with a mock bow. “Prepare to be amazed.”

She swung the crutch around with wild enthusiasm, attempting to mimic Viktor’s movements. Unfortunately, her lack of balance and unfamiliarity with her "weapon" quickly caught up to her. The crutch wobbled, tangling her up as she flailed to keep from falling. She nearly toppled over before Viktor darted forward—well, as quickly as he could—catching her by the arm and steadying her.

“Impressive,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “A technique I call The Flailing Crane.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t suppress her grin. “Alright, fine. You win this round. But I’m still faster than you, even with this thing.”

“Is that a challenge?” Viktor asked, his lips curving into a lopsided smirk.

“It’s a promise,” Y/N shot back, the same spark of mischief in her eyes that had lit their banter since the day she got her crutch.

=

It had been weeks since then, and now the crutch was gone—relegated to the corner of the lab, collecting dust alongside failed prototypes and forgotten tools. Y/N flexed her leg, testing the strength in it, the faintest twinge of discomfort reminding her of how far she’d come. She grinned at Viktor, planting her hands on her hips.

“Well, you’re in trouble now,” she said smugly. “No more crutch. No more excuses. I could outrun you without breaking a sweat.”

Viktor leaned against his cane, arching an unimpressed brow. “Ah, yes. Because speed has always been my greatest strength,” he said dryly.

“I’m serious!” Y/N laughed, rolling her shoulders like a runner preparing for a race. “You’d better keep that cane close, because you’re going to need it when I leave you in the dust.”

Viktor tilted his head, considering her for a moment. Then, the smirk returned, sharp and calculated. “If you are so confident, perhaps we should test this theory.”

Y/N raised a brow. “You want to race me? You’re on.”

He nodded, limping to the middle of the room with his cane tapping lightly against the floor. Y/N stretched her legs dramatically, shaking them out like she was preparing for a marathon. Viktor watched her antics with quiet amusement, adjusting his cane in his grip.

“Alright,” Y/N said, standing beside him and glancing towards the lab door, which would mark the finish line. “First one to the door wins. No excuses when I beat you, alright?”

“Of course,” Viktor replied, his voice smooth and innocent. Too innocent.

Y/N didn’t notice the subtle glint in his eye as they both readied themselves. She crouched slightly, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet. Viktor shifted his grip on the cane, his posture deceptively casual.

“Ready?” Y/N asked.

“Always,” Viktor answered, and the moment the words left his mouth, he swung his cane sideways with a quick flick, the handle knocking into her ankle just hard enough to unbalance her.

“OW!” Y/N yelped, stumbling back and clutching her ankle. She shot Viktor a look of betrayal, her mouth agape. “Did you just—?”

But Viktor was already hobbling towards the door as fast as he could, a triumphant laugh escaping him. “Forgot to mention,” he called over his shoulder, “it doubles as a perfect weapon!”

“You cheater!” Y/N yelled, still holding her ankle as the sting faded. “I can’t believe you!”

Viktor glanced back with a lopsided grin, his pace unhurried but victorious. “You said no excuses. You never said no strategy.”

Y/N groaned, finally shaking off the lingering pain and starting after him, though the head start he’d gained was enough to keep her behind. “When I catch you, you’re going to regret that, Viktor!”

“Catch me first,” Viktor teased, his voice light with laughter as he reached the door and leaned against it, tapping his cane against the floor with a flourish.

By the time Y/N reached him, she was laughing despite herself, glaring at him with mock indignation. “You’re lucky I don’t have my crutch anymore, or I’d be using it on you.”

Viktor chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “Ah, but that is why I struck first.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” Viktor said, his smirk softening as he straightened up, “you still cannot resist our games.”

Y/N huffed, shaking her head but smiling all the same. “Next time, no tricks.”

“Next time,” Viktor agreed, though the glint in his eye said otherwise.

Their laughter filled the lab once more, echoing off the walls as they walked back together, bickering and teasing all the while. And though Y/N silently vowed revenge, she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed these little moments—moments where the weight of life felt a little lighter, shared with someone who made the world infinitely brighter.

JAYVIK

Y/N sighed, leaning heavily against the counter in the lab, her brow furrowed as she twisted a particularly stubborn component on the device Viktor had been fine-tuning all morning. Her frustration simmered just beneath the surface, every failed attempt to adjust the mechanism pushing her closer to snapping. Across the room, Jayce was humming some jaunty tune, his movements rhythmic as he tinkered with his own project. He seemed utterly oblivious to the quiet chaos brewing at her station. Viktor, however, stood nearby, his sharp golden eyes flitting between the blueprint and the device, his cane propped securely against the worktable.

“You’re twisting it wrong,” Viktor remarked casually, his voice tinged with that characteristic dry amusement.

Y/N groaned, throwing him an exasperated glance. “I’m not twisting it wrong!” she retorted, the irritation in her tone undercut by playful defiance.

“If you keep at it like that, you’ll break it,” Viktor warned, leaning slightly closer to observe her handiwork, his expression almost smug.

From his corner of the lab, Jayce chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. “Come on, Y/N. Viktor’s always right about this stuff. You know he’s been doing this since before you even stepped into a lab.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, shooting a mock glare in Jayce’s direction. “Oh, please. I’m not going to break it. I’ve got this under control.”

She glanced back at the device, her grip tightening on the delicate mechanism. She wasn’t about to let either of them have the satisfaction of being right.

“Y/N,” Viktor began, a faint note of warning creeping into his tone, “you’re applying too much—”

CRACK!

The sound reverberated through the lab, sharp and unmistakable.

It wasn’t the device.

Pain exploded up Y/N’s arm, sharp and unrelenting. Her breath hitched, and for a split second, she froze, willing herself to stay calm despite the agony radiating from her wrist. Viktor’s eyes snapped to her, his expression shifting from bemusement to alarm, while Jayce immediately looked up from his work, a frown creasing his features.

“That... wasn’t the device,” Jayce said slowly, his brows knitting together in confusion. He set down his tools and took a step towards her, his gaze scanning her face.

“It’s fine!” Y/N blurted, panic rising in her chest as she quickly shoved her injured arm behind her back. She forced a tight-lipped smile, hoping they couldn’t see the faint sheen of sweat forming on her brow. “I just—uh—dropped something! No big deal!”

“Y/N,” Viktor said, his voice low and sceptical, “what did you—”

“Nope! Totally fine! Nothing to worry about!” Y/N interrupted, her words rushed as she started backing towards the door.

“Wait, what—” Jayce began, his confusion deepening as he took another step forward.

“Don’t worry about it! Be back soon!” Y/N called over her shoulder, practically sprinting out of the lab before either of them could protest.

==

Hours later, Y/N returned to the lab, her arm encased in a pristine white cast. The nurses at the clinic had been kind—almost too kind—and had taken it upon themselves to decorate her cast with bright doodles and cheerful messages like “Get well soon!” and “Stay out of trouble!” While the colourful scribbles added a bit of charm, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as she stepped into the lab, hoping her absence had gone unnoticed.

She was wrong.

The moment Y/N crossed the threshold, Viktor and Jayce’s heads snapped up in unison, their eyes locking onto her cast.

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Jayce’s face twisted into a mix of confusion and disbelief, while Viktor’s expression darkened, his brows furrowing deeply as he leaned on his cane.

“What the hell happened to your arm?” Jayce demanded, his voice sharp as he strode towards her, his large frame looming.

“Nothing!” Y/N said a bit too quickly, holding up her injured arm as if to dismiss their concern. “It’s just a minor mishap. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Viktor repeated, his tone flat and disbelieving as he limped closer, the soft tap of his cane punctuating each step. “Y/N, you are wearing a cast. How exactly is that ‘no big deal’?”

Jayce folded his arms across his chest, his stern expression doing little to mask the worry in his eyes. “You left here perfectly fine, and now you come back with that? What aren’t you telling us?”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks flushing under their dual scrutiny. She hesitated, then sighed. “It’s nothing, really. I might’ve... twisted something earlier while working on that device.” She gestured vaguely towards the workstation, her voice trailing off.

“Twisted something?” Viktor echoed, his sharp gaze narrowing. “Y/N, that is not a twist. That is a fracture.”

Jayce’s eyes widened in realisation, his voice rising. “Wait—are you telling me you broke your arm working on that? And you didn’t think to tell us?!”

“I didn’t want to worry you!” Y/N shot back, her voice small and defensive.

“Not tell us?!” Viktor’s cane tapped the floor sharply as he gestured at her arm. “You left the lab injured without explanation! Do you know how reckless that is?”

Jayce ran a hand through his hair, his earlier frustration giving way to something softer and far more concerned. “Y/N, we’re your partners. We’re supposed to look out for each other.” His voice gentled further, the warmth in his tone almost disarming. “You’re not just our colleague—you’re family.”

Viktor’s gaze softened at Jayce’s words, and he nodded. “Exactly. Next time, do not hide these things. Let us help.”

Y/N hesitated, guilt twisting in her chest as she looked between the two of them. Their worry was genuine, their affection undeniable. Finally, she nodded, offering a small, sheepish smile. “Alright. I promise.”

“Good,” Jayce said, a mischievous grin breaking across his face. “Now, let me see that cast. I’m claiming the first signature spot!”

“No way,” Viktor interjected smoothly, already reaching for a pen on the nearest table. “I have far better handwriting.”

“Oh, please,” Jayce scoffed. “Your handwriting is completely illegible. Let me do it!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as the two of them immediately began bickering, their usual competitive nature coming through. She raised her arm slightly, giving them a glimpse of the colourful scribbles already covering the cast.

“Well, you’re both too late,” Y/N said with a grin. “The nurses beat you to it. They practically had a race to see who could sign it first.”

Jayce blinked in surprise, his hand faltering mid-air. “Wait, they signed it already?” he asked, eyes widening as he inspected the lively messages and doodles that covered the surface.

Viktor leaned in as well, his golden eyes scanning the signatures. “Well, I suppose we’ve been beaten to the punch,” he remarked dryly, though there was a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t blame them for getting in first.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the warm, familiar weight of their presence. “Guess you’ll just have to wait your turn.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow, giving Viktor a pointed look. “Alright, fine. I’ll let Viktor sign it next.”

Viktor shook his head with a smirk. “I’m not signing last. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Oh, come on,” Jayce protested, folding his arms. “Your handwriting looks like a scribbled mess. I’ll go next.”

“Absolutely not,” Viktor said firmly, giving Jayce a playful but stern look. “I’ll make it look presentable. You’re just going to make it worse.”

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head at the bickering. “Alright, alright. How about this—both of you sign it at the same time?”

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance, both sizing up the situation. After a brief moment of silent deliberation, they shrugged in unison, reluctantly agreeing to her suggestion.

“Fair enough,” Jayce said, handing Viktor the pen with a mischievous smirk. ��But just so you know, I’m still going next.”

Viktor rolled his eyes but grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

And so, despite their playful bickering, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of comfort wash over her. They were arguing over something as trivial as whose signature went where on her cast, but in this moment, it was clear how much they cared. She couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have such devoted, genuine people by her side.

=

A few weeks later, Y/N’s cast was finally removed. As the doctor carefully sawed through the plaster, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the signed messages left behind by Viktor and Jayce. She couldn’t help but chuckle as the doctor handed her the cut cast.

“You know,” she said, “I’m pretty sure this cast must be worth a fortune by now. I mean, it’s got both of your signatures on it. It's practically priceless.”

Jayce chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get any ideas, Y/N. I’m not buying it back.”

Viktor smirked from where he stood, tinkering with one of his machines. “Well, if we’re going to charge for it, we’d have to factor in the quality of our handwriting. Mine’s worth at least double.”

“Oh, please,” Jayce scoffed. “Your handwriting looks like a series of chaotic scribbles. No one’s paying top dollar for that.”

Y/N laughed, the weight in her chest lightening as she watched the two of them bicker. It felt good to be back, to be doing something familiar again.

=

The three of them got back to work, the familiar hum of the lab filling the air once more. Y/N had barely started picking up where she left off when she felt the familiar, irritating tightness in her wrist as she tried to twist a particularly stubborn piece into place. She applied more pressure, gritting her teeth as she tried to force it.

And then—CRACK!

The sound was unmistakable.

Viktor and Jayce both froze. For a brief moment, they exchanged a panicked look before their eyes snapped back to Y/N, expecting to see her wincing in pain or clutching her arm in distress. But instead, Y/N stood there with a wide grin, her arm outstretched, and her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Before either of them could speak, Y/N burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “You should have seen the look on your faces!” she exclaimed, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye. “I didn’t break it again!”

Jayce blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing. “What? Then what was that crack? Are you telling me you didn’t—”

Y/N held up her hand, still laughing. She reached into her mouth and pulled out two perfectly raw pasta strands, holding them up for both of them to see. “I just bit into some pasta,” she said between giggles, “and it snapped! You two looked like you were about to faint!”

Viktor, clearly relieved, let out a deep breath and shook his head, a faint smile playing at his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, still trying to process what had just happened.

Jayce, on the other hand, was still staring at her in disbelief. “I swear, I’m going to need a second to recover from that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You seriously got us again.”

Y/N winked at him, still grinning ear to ear. “Just keeping you on your toes. Besides,” she added with a mischievous gleam in her eye, “I needed to remind you both that I’m still the one in charge around here.”

Jayce rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “We’ll see about that.”

As the three of them returned to work, the air was light, filled with the easy camaraderie of old friends. Y/N was just as capable and spirited as before, and as long as she kept them guessing, Viktor and Jayce were more than happy to keep her around—broken arm or not.

[colpenter]

soft curls — FC43

summary: your boyfriend cuts his beautiful curls off by himself #canon #franco colapinto é pobre

notes: this is kinda small and a bit boring (idk if I like it or not). I don't speak Spanish so forgive me if something is written wrong and English is not my first language, sorry if it there's any typos. enjoy xx

You were getting ready for a night out with Franco in Argentina, it's his home country so he'll be showing you all the typical foods. The room you are in it's his bedroom from when he was younger, his parents didn't change it at all since he left to Italy. That's why you're putting on your makeup as you stare at the mirror which was filled with stickers of McQueen and those fugly stickers from school notebooks.

Franco enters the bedroom and smirks at you, his eyes roaming up and down your body. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was only appreciating your outfit. “Looking good, eh?” Franco says as he nods at you.

“Gracias. But don't you think that this dress is too fancy for the restaurant? I don't want to look so different from the others”. His expression softens as he smiles at you.

“Don't worry about that, te ves perfecta, mi amor. If anything, you'll be the most beautiful girl in that place” His smirk is back in his handsome face. Before you could say something, he rushes to the bathroom. You're sure you saw some scissors in his hand, though you were too busy trying to not look too good to follow him, since that by Franco's outfit, you could guess you were totally overdressed— he was wearing a sweater and some jeans!

You spend some good minutes finishing your makeup and outfit and finally walk toward the bathroom to tell Franco you were ready. The door was half open, and you could see him messing with his hair while staring at the mirror. You opened the door, giving him a small smile before showing off your outfit.

“Hey. Estoy lista” you were learning Spanish for him, though you only talked with him using the most easy words. Then, as you look up back at his face, you notice that he was cutting his hair with the scissors.

“What?! Oh no no. You're cutting your curls off? Why? I loved them” Franco knew it, you were obsessed with stroking your fingers into his curls. And he was obsessed with the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

“Hey. First, you look gorgeous. Second, no I'm not cutting my curls off in purpose”, he chuckles as he puts down the scissors and looks at you before looking back at the mirror, “my hair was just too big”.

“And you cut your hair by yourself? You don't go to a barber...?” you silently judges Franco, wishing he didn't have cut his curls off.

“Es demasiado caro, bella, so I do it myself. It looks good, no?” he turns his head to you, so you could see his work.

“Ah.. it does. I like it” you weren't lying, he looked good in almost everything. You reach out and stroke his hair with your hand, and he chuckles.

“Entonces, ya estás lista, ¿no? Let's go.” Franco grabs your hand and leads you to the exit of the house, toward his car that was parked outside. His hair looked good, he looked good.

The end

[acmeangel]

Levi always cut his own hair. Always. Over the bathroom sink, the door open just a sliver, a crease between his brow, his lips set in a straight line.

You knew this about him. You figured it was just another one of his habits and particularities, like how he has to brew his own tea. You tried once, and when he took a sip, his nose twitched and he asked “How did you make this?” — not quite an insult, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely rude to you, but you knew what he meant. You haven’t made tea since.

But the hair cutting. He’d never announce it, never make a comment about it after. If you told him it looked nice, he’d simply make a noise of acknowledgement and move on.

You’d simply find him, in the bathroom, door cracked open, while he leaned over the sink, snipping pieces of hair with practiced precision. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back would flex and move with every motion, the tension lingering within them obvious. The irises of his eyes looked cloudier, distant, and that crease between his brow persisted. Always.

You push the bathroom door open, slowly, soundlessly, as if a sudden movement would make him disappear into thin air. Sometimes, you thought it might.

You lean against the doorway, watching him — he catches your gaze in the mirror for just a second, his eyes locking onto yours with a fleeting vulnerable intensity, before he focuses on himself again.

You just want to help. It’s all you ever want to do, really — to take over some of the tedious little things he does by himself every day, just because he’s always done them by himself. Bit by bit, you want to show him that the weight he carries on his shoulders is something that can be shared, that you’d carry it with him, happily.

“You know, there are these things called barbers that are pretty good at this sort of thing,” you tease, gently, a faint smile curling onto your lips. You knew a groan was coming, but you also knew he appreciated your teasing. It made him feel more grounded.

Groan. Tch.

“Why would I pay someone to do a shitty job?” His eyes flicker to yours in the mirror again, a touch softer this time.

“Want help with the back?” you ask, your eyes lingering on the strands of hair that have begun to grow down the curve of his neck. “I’ll do it for free. It’s really quite a steal.”

“No,” he says. Instantly, flatly.

You walk over closer to him, as he snips the hair in front of his face.

“I won’t mess it up. I can handle trimming a few pieces of hair.” You smile at him in the mirror, and your hand finds its way to rest on the nape of his neck, gently.
He flinches, slightly. He never moved away from your touch anymore — not since the early days of your relationship, where every affectionate touch was foreign to him. In fact, now he usually leaned into it, wanted it.

“I can do it myself.” His voice comes out a little lower, a little rougher this time. His eyes don’t find yours in the mirror.

“Okay, Levi.” Your hand retracts from his neck, and you exit the bathroom. You didn’t want to push, you never did. You learned that with Levi, things had to progress a little slower. It had been like that since the first time he kissed you — his lips had been so light against yours, his hands just barely cradled your face. He’d never admit it out loud, but you knew he was afraid — afraid to let himself care about something precious, afraid that you’d leave him one way or another, afraid that he’d never be able to give you what you deserve.


You knew none of it was true. You loved him, and you weren’t going anywhere, and you loved the way he loved you. Quietly, subtly, through actions and small gestures, instead of words and big romantic displays. It was all you’d ever need.

You didn’t need him to sweep you off your feet or tell you that he loved you every day. You were just as happy waking up every morning to a warm cup of jasmine tea on your bedside table, in your favorite mug that he had once spent hours fixing after the time you had dropped it. It was always made perfectly — something he’d learned just for you, despite calling it “that herbal crap.”

Seeing the way your lips curved into a smile after taking a sip was really the only thing he ever needed.

So, you leave the bathroom and you get into bed, and you wait for him to join you.

A short while later, he does. He slides into the bed beside you, his head finds the place on your chest that it always does. His head turns away from you, the back of his neck a faint red from rubbing it with a towel, tiny drops of water glistening in his hair.

You reach out and stroke his hair — while he doesn’t let you cut it, he will always let you run your fingers through it. You’ve found that it soothes him, that it helps him relax at night.

He makes a noise of approval, of affection.

“I’ve never let anyone cut my hair,” he says after a while, a hint of apology in his tone.

“Levi.” Your hand continues to stroke his soft hair. “You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“My mom was the only person who’s ever cut my hair.” His voice is low, a rare softness to it, as he admits this, his face turned away from you. “I don’t want…” His voice trails off.

He doesn’t need to continue. You know what he means. He’d told you bits and pieces about his mom, about his childhood, and you’d been able to put it all together. You could tell, by the way he talked about his mom, that his memory of her was starting to slip through his fingers — and now, it seemed, the way she cut his hair is one of the few memories left.

“I know,” you say, your voice soft. “Don’t worry. But, at least let me get you some better scissors for it.”

A long, gentle silence falls between you two. Your eyes trace the slope of his shoulder, the slow rising and falling of his breathing.

He turns over, his head faces toward you. Your fingers drift from his hair to the curve of his cheek.

“Maybe… next time, you can help.” His voice is a slight, relaxed mumble, and his eyes search yours. “With the back. It’s a pain. Practically break my damn neck doing it.”

Mmm, you hum, nodding softly. “Alright, I will.”

“Just don’t make it uneven. Or I might have to leave you for a shitty barber.”

You laugh, and you smile. This is all he ever needs.

The corners of his lips twitch into a faint smile. His hand reaches up to capture yours as it gently caresses his face, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. You know what this gesture means.

“I love you too, Levi.”

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

My first time posting a little Levi one shot fic. Maybe I’ll do more! Hope you like. :)

[boyfriendchrisenthusiast]

how shy!matt and ladybug!reader met ꨄ

wc: 2225 words

warnings: none!

a/n: this is kinda long so I apologize.

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

Matt loved living alone. Being able to come and go without telling anyone where he was going, spending the whole day in his boxers, and sometimes not speaking at all the entire day. But after a while, he started to feel lonely. He knew he didn't want a roommate. Especially after living with his two brothers for 3 years prior to moving into his new home. He wanted to be able to be alone, but not feel lonely. which led him to the conclusion that he would adopt an animal.

Matt sits up in bed and reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing his computer. He flips it open and immediately opens a new tab. ‘Animal shelters near me’ he types into his browser. The first one that pops up is called “Purrs and Paws Rescue”. He clicks the website linked to the location page and is quickly brought to another page with dozens of pictures of animals. Cats, dogs, and even reptiles. He scrolls on the site for what feels like hours, smiling at all the pictures and clicking on them to read more about their personalities. He knew he needed an animal that was low maintenance but still provided him company and comfort. Which is why he ultimately decides to get a cat.

The next day, he climbs out of bed early. He was so excited to finally have a pet that was just his. He takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth and gets dressed all in only an hour. He does his final touch ups before he leaves, messing with his hair in the mirror. He walks out of his bathroom and grabs his keys off the kitchen counter on his way out the door.

It was a pretty typical day at work for you. Today, It was your job to help potential adopters meet their perfect match. Walking them through the facility and showing them animals that you think would make a good fit fir them and finally, giving these sweet babies the second chance they deserved. This was one of the parts of your job that you loved so dearly.

You sit behind the front desk with your coworkers, patiently waiting for customers to come in. It gets boring waiting around for people, but you pass time mindlessly scrolling on your phone until there is something better to do. suddenly the door chimes ring, you sit up straight to appear more approachable to the incoming client. In walks a cute brunette boy, a smile resting on his face as he waits at the desk. “Welcome in! What can I help you with today?” I ask flashing him a quick smile.

“I was looking to adopt?” He stuttered, immediately moving his eyes to the ground. A small blush creeps across his cheeks as he turns his head away.

“Yay!! What kind of animal were you looking to adopt today?” You respond with enthusiasm.

“Um I was looking at maybe a cat… you know something low maintenance.” He says looking into your eyes, trying to read your expression.

“Perfect! If you'd like to follow me I'll walk you through our facility and we can discuss what you're looking for exactly.” I stand up, motioning him to follow after me. He turns to follow behind me silently. “Before we start what's your name?” I ask him tucking my hair behind my ear.

“My name's Matt, you?”

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name” he mutters, almost barely audibly. He doesn't know what confidence washed over him, but it felt right.

“Oh thank you.” Your cheeks heat up, a pink blush washes over your face. Quickly you try to divert the subject off of yourself. “So, you're looking for a low maintenance cat? Do you have kids,roommates, a partner?” You technically didn't need to know if he had a girlfriend, but it didn't hurt to ask. Plus, you couldn't help yourself. He was exactly your type.

“No, no, and no. I live by myself. Just looking for something to keep me company. I've always loved animals so I thought it would make the most sense.” he explains while walking next to you now.

“We have a lot of options for you then! I can introduce you to some of my favorites and we can go from there.” I smile at him, noticing the way his eyes dart away. Almost hiding embarrassment or shyness. You turn the corner together into a smaller room, the walls lined with cat cages. Each cat having a name tag with their likes and dislikes on it. He was in awe seeing all of them here, even recognizing a few from the website he looked at. They had everything. Persians,Tabbys, Tuxedos, you name it. There was one in particular though, that caught Matt's eye. A shy calico cat, sitting in the back of the cage who is clearly uninterested in his presence.

You notice him stop at the cage, smiling softly at the small animal. “Oh that's Bea. Someone picked her up off the street a couple weeks ago and dropped her off here. She's only a year old, so she's still a baby. She's not super social, but she's a doll.” You explain looking between him and the cat. You found it cute how he'd chose the one that most people just ignore. “If you'd like, we can take her to the meeting room! See how your initial chemistry is.” you smile back at him, hoping he'd take you up on the offer.

“Yeah, I'd actually love that.” He thanks you, making eye contact for a little longer than anticipated. His shyness peaks through, as he nervously runs his hand through his hair, turning his head away. You open the door of the cage, putting your hand out gently for Bea to sniff, letting her know you weren't there to hurt her. She had always liked you, so she quickly rubs her head into your hand allowing you access to pet her. You suddenly scoop her up into your arms as she lets out a meow in annoyance.

“Ok if you wanna follow me” I motion towards me walking towards the door to the meeting room. “I think you're going to love her, it might take a little for her to warm up but she might be exactly what you're looking for.”

“Her colors are so pretty” He says admiring the cat, who's head is turned looking at him.

“Aren't they?”

You stop at the door, slowly opening it and bending down letting the cat free from your grasp. The room is decorated with pastel paw print painted on the walls, and various toys scattered across the floor. Matt follows behind you as you close and lock the door to the room. Bea immediately starts investigating the room, sniffing around all the toys and the small carpet in the middle of the floor. You open the door to the closet in the corner of the room, taking out two cushions for you and matt to sit on. You toss them on the carpet, sitting down on one and looking at matt to sit down next to you.

“Bea, come here baby” You coo at her trying to lure her over to where you and matt are sitting. You make clicks with your mouth trying to grab her attention. She trots over to you, rubbing against your side. Matt puts his hand out for her to sniff, as she determines whether she would trust him or not. “It's ok sweetie he won't hurt you” you talk to her, as if she could understand you. Suddenly she slowly walks towards him, testing the waters before allowing him to pet her.

“Hi there… you're so cute…” he speaks softly at her, scratching the top of her head. Your heart melts at the sight. It was rare to see a man, especially his age, be so gentle towards a cat. Most guys your age don't like cats. They say they're mean or not playful enough. While Matt is loving every second of this, getting lost in the act of loving on this sweet little baby. The room is filled with silence besides the occasional sound of meows and purs.

“So, Matt what do you do for work?” You ask wanting to know more about him. Becoming increasingly infatuated by his nature.

“Oh uh I work at a record store.”

“Really? I love music. I go to concerts like every 3-5 business days” You giggle softly.

He chuckles at your words, while internally admiring the sound of your laugh. “What kind of music you into?” He questions, wondering if your music taste is similar to his.

“Well honestly, I listen to a little bit of everything. I think my main genres are pop, r&b, and indie.” He smiles at this, realizing you did like some of the same genres. He looks down at the cat, still giving her attention as she purs in comfort.

“Maybe you should stop by sometime, we have all kinds of cool records. You know, only if you want..” He says nervously, hoping you'd take him up on the offer.

“Oh absolutely, I'd love to.” You smile back at him. The room falls quiet for a moment after, while matt struggles to find words to say. “You know, I think she really likes you. I've never seen her like this with anyone. Seems like she's met her match.” You point out, hoping he'd love her as much as you do.

“I really like her, when would I be able to take her home?” He asks looking back up at you.

“You can take her home today! I'll just have you fill out some paperwork and as long as you're able to pay then she's all yours.” you say standing up. “Do you feel comfortable holding her for a minute while I grab a travel carrier?”

“Yeah yeah sure.” He gently and hesitantly approachs her, attempting to not scare her. He wraps his arms around the small cat, carefully trying to keep her calm. He holds her in his arms, petting the top of her head gently. He watches as you leave the room momentarily. “You're going home today…” he whispers to the small animal in his arms. You walk back in the room quickly with a cat carrier.

“Ok here we are. If you just wanna put her in here. She might fight you a little bit but don't worry she's not a bitter or anything.” you laugh as he struggles a little bit getting her in the crate. She lets out loud, unamused meows from inside, clawing at the bars of the carrier.

“it's ok, you'll be out soon.” He whispers gently to her, trying to calm her down. “uhm- y/n I was just wondering. Do you want my number? Just to you know, check in on her maybe. Or if you still wanted to check out my store-” he stutters on his words, getting nervous you might reject him or shoot him down.

“Oh- yes please.” You interrupt his stuttering, pulling your phone out of your back pocket. “Here, you can type your number in.” You hold out your unlocked phone for him, anticipating him finally punching his numbers in. Quickly, he wipes his somewhat sweaty palm on his jeans hoping you didn't notice. He grabs the phone from you and swiftly types his number in and shoots himself a quick message, making sure it goes through.

You walk back up to the front of the building, Matt following closely behind you, now holding the cat carrier. When you reach the lobby, you walk behind the desk as he goes in front of it, ready to check out. You reach under the desk into a storage cabinet, grabbing out papers to fill out. “Ok so you'll just have to fill out your information on these papers, so if you'd like to take a seat and bring these back up when you've finished that would be great.” You explain handing over the papers attached to a clipboard, and a pen. He takes a seat in one of the chairs in the lobby, setting the carrier on the small coffee table next to him. Every few minutes he looks back over to you, catching you staring at him momentarily before you dart your eyes away. You put your head down blushing.

Matt finishes his paperwork, bringing it back up to where you're sat and lays it on the desk. You look over the papers, making sure all the information was there. “Perfect, and you're paying with card I assume?” You ask while he starts pulling out his wallet.

“Uh yeah card” He hesitates before taking out the card.

“Your total is $100” You confirm spinning the cars reader towards him. You watch as he swipes his card and puts it back in his wallet. “Well, looks like you're all set. Keep me updated on Bea yeah, I'm gonna miss having her here!” You add, almost a hint of sadness in your voice.

“Don't worry, I will. Thanks for all your help today. I'll see you around then, yeah?” He suggests, nervously twiddling his fingers.

“Yeah, uh- I'll see you.” You say, giving him one last smile before he turns around, cat in hand, and walks out the front door.

a/n: soo im finally putting out my first fic. I introduced this au a WHILE ago but I was really nervous to actually put anything out. I've been very nervous about being perceived or just opinions from peers in general. Also, I'm sorry there's not much actual fluff in here I'm trying to make this sound realistic and well thought out😭 Likes, reblogs, and positive feedback will be greatly appreciated. I love you all and I really hope I can do this au justice because I love them sm.

[chubbycelebs]

Donut Lover Boys (part 2)

The next day, Will arose to the beaming sun filling his room through the gap in his curtain. He rolled over and got out of bed. Rubbing his eyes he walked to the bathroom. He stood opposite the mirror and looked at his body. His skinny body wasn’t nothing that special. He didn’t have much muscle definition at all. Will rubbed his hands down his chest and stomach then slipped his boxers off. The hair on his stomach getting ruffled as his hands slide over it. He turned the shower on and got into it, getting ready for his shift at the donut shop. He made sure to put extra effort into his appearance today just incase Logan actually showed up like he said he would. Will was unsure if he would show up. Yesterday almost seemed too perfect to be true. 

Once ready, Will left his flat and walked to the shop. He turned the keys in the door and entered the shop. He flicked on the lights and made his way to the back of the cafe. He put on his apron, started making a batch of donuts and started to set up the shop for another day of business. 

Not long after the shop opening he heard the door open and looked up. To his pleasure the strapping jock Logan had walked into the shop with a beaming smile. “Morning Will. How are you today?” He asked resting his arms on the counter. 

“Very will now thank you. And yourself?” 

“Couldn’t be better.” Logan glanced at the display cabinet and eyed up some donuts. “I’ll take 3 of these please. Treat myself to a sweet breakfast whilst I’m here” he pointed at the rich chocolate filled donuts. 

“Of course. It would be rude not to” Will replied grasping three of the sweet donuts and placing them on a little plate for Logan to enjoy. Logan sat down near by and started eating the donuts one by one, giving compliments to the baker for the delicious treats. 

“These are just amazing. I could eat 10 more of them” he said polishing off the plate. He stood up to give the plate back to Will, rubbing his stomach slightly. 

“Well I’m sure you’ll have room for more throughout the day” Will said taking the plate off Logan and watched as he returned to his seat. 

The two boys spent the next few hours talking about anything and everything. Between serving customers, Will would go over to Logan’s table to talk. It’s hard to believe just how well these two boys got on, clicking instantly and enjoying every second of it. 

It was luckily a quiet day at the cafe and not many customers interrupted their conversations. Due to this there were a lot of donuts left in the display cabinet which tempted Logan to keep ordering and trying them all. Nearly every hour Logan would polish off a plate of around 2-3 donuts. Will wasn’t sure why but he liked watching Logan eat them knowing that he was spoiling him and treating him to these sweet confections.

At 2pm one of Wills co-workers came in so that Will could clock off his morning shift. Will got ready to leave and Logan stood up ready to walk out with him. The two boys talked out of the shop and down the road to a local park where they sat for a few more hours talking until the sun started to set. Will couldn’t believe how well this was going. Never had he had a guy so interested in him. “You know I should probs start heading home now” Will said reluctantly but his stomach was rumbling with hunger. 

“I’ll walk you home” Logan said stand up and holding out his hand. Wills heart jumped as he stared at the hand. He took his hand and stood up and started to walk home holding Logan’s hand. Today was another perfect day. He couldn’t believe it was going so well. Eventually they got back to Wills place and they said their farewells. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Logan asked with a cute smile. 

“Well yes I’d love to” Will replied stroking his thumb across the back of Logan’s hand, feeling the slight amount of course hair that grew there. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then!” Logan said. The two boys paused for a second just looking at each other’s faces eyes darting between their eyes and mouths. They both wanted to but neither of them had the courage to do it, and so Will watched as Logan slowly walked back down the street and then the corner. 

The rest of the week basically followed the same pattern. Logan would come into the shop order donuts around the clock (now having tried every single flavour the shop had to offer) talk to Will and then the two of them would go on a little walk after his shift. The longing and pining was coursing through both of their veins but the two of them still didn’t succumb to them. 

Finally the week had passed and it was the day of their dinner date. Will could hardly sleep that night and got up pretty early the day of the date. He spent all day getting ready, making sure to look the best he could for his date. He wore a pair of blue jeans paired with polo shirt that hugged his waist, showing off his slim figure and finally a little black jacket as it was starting to get cold in the evenings now. He was just about to leave the flat when he heard a knock on the door. It was a very inconvenient time for someone to be knocking just as he was about to leave. Will talked to the front for and unlocked it and was shocked to see Logan stood there. He worse black jeans that showed off his rather thick thighs. He had a white button up that he tucked into the jeans and a belt around his waist. He was holding a bunch of red roses and a little basket that was filled with chocolates. “Hi Will” Logan said with a smile, looking him up and down, taking in Wills figure. 

“Hi Logan. Didn’t expect this” Will said inviting Logan into his flat. 

“Thought I’d treat you to something since you’ve been spoiling me all week. Hope that’s alright?” 

“Of course it is. Thank you soo much I love them” Logan handed him the flowers and chocolates. Will put them down on the kitchen counter. “Should we get going then?” Will asks. 

“Yes best. Don’t want to be late.” He took Wills hand and the two left Wills flat. “You look very handsome tonight Will” Logan said as they walked down the street. Will looked across at Logan, slightly pink in the face. 

“Thank you. You look gorgeous Logan” Will reciprocated. The two boys squeeze each other’s hand a little harder as they walked to the restaurant. 

Logan had booked the pair of them a meal at the local Italian restaurant. The two of them were big fans of Italian food and here would be the best place to have their first date. As they entered the restaurant the smell of bolognaise, lasagna, carbonara, garlic bread and pizza filled the room. Both boys felt their stomachs rumble, not realising just how hungry they were. They got sat at a table and given the menu. There was so much food to choose from they couldn’t decide on what to get. “Would you think less of me if I got pasta, pizza and garlic bread?” Logan asked looking up at Will. 

“Of course not. It all sounds so good I can’t even decided on what I want.” 

“How about the lasagna? That sounds amazing!” 

“I’ll go for that then” Will said closing the menu just has the server approaches the table. 

When the food arrived it became very clear the portion sizes were huge here. The food could hardly fit on the table. Wills lasagna was almost just a full family sized portion. Logan definitely had eyes bigger than his belly (or so Will thought) with a huge portion of spaghetti, a huge 16 inch pizza accompanied by a 12 inch garlic bread. “Shit. That’s quite a lot of food isn’t it?” Logan said in ore of the food in front of him. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve got a big appetite to get all of this gone.” Will replied trying to be reassuring. 

Slowly but surely the two boys started to get through their mountains of food. As Will hit the half way point on his lasagna he already started to feel full. Logan had eaten his way through his spaghetti and half of his garlic bread before touching his huge pizza. As they carried on eating, conversation started to drop as the two of them were focused on finishing their plates. Will had cleared his plate first, polishing off with a slice of Logan’s garlic bread. He leaned back and rubbed his slightly distended stomach, wishing now he wore an outfit that didn’t huge his waist so much as now there was no hiding his bloated middle. Will looked over at Logan and noticed him wriggling around in his seat slightly. He heard the clinking metal of a belt and realised that Logan was freeing up space but loosening his belt around his waist. Will felt a pulse of hot blood in his groan at the thought of this, but was unsure why he felt like that. Soon enough Logan had finished all the food he has ordered. His button up was tight around his stomach too and his belt was on a much looser setting than what it was to start with. “Wow. That was amazing.” Logan said patting his middle. “Do you want dessert?” He asked as if both of them weren’t stuff to the brim. 

“I’m pretty full Logan. I don’t know how much more I can eat.” 

“It’s fine. Whatever you don’t eat I’ll finish it off. It’s on me” Logan grinned and grabbed Wills hand across the table. The two of them got a chocolate pudding which consisted of a huge slab of chocolate sponge cake coated in a thick warm chcolate sauce. The two boys started digging into their puddings, their already full stomachs pushing further out by the second. As Will finished half of his dessert, he felt like he couldn’t go on. His stomach filled more than it’s ever been. Logan was still eating at a rapid pace and almost polished off his plate. 

“I don’t think I can eat anymore” Will said slightly panting. 

“Come on. You’ve hardly had half of it. Keep going I know you can do it” Logan said reassuringly, making sure to sound caring and supportive. Not wanting to disappoint Logan, Will carried on spooning more and more chocolatey dessert into his mouth. 

After another 10 minutes, the two boys had finished their food and paid for it all. Both of them were stuffed to the max and struggled to get up to leave the restaurant. The slowly waddled back to Wills flat, hand in hand. Once they got to the front door, Will turned to Logan and thanked him for the night. “It’s been such a lovely night. I’ve had a lot of fun and a lot of food” Will chuckled as he patted his extended stomach. 

“You’re welcome.” Logan panted still slightly out of breath. “I’ve had a great night too but I’m really sorry could I come in and sit down for a bit. I’m so full.”

“Oh yes of course come in” Will moved out of the door way and instructed Logan where the living room was. As soon as he saw the sofa, Logan collapsed on top of it groaning in discomfort. Will locked the door then walked into the living room and saw Logan laid on his back. His full stomach as distended and very obvious. His button up was tight around his bloat and his jeans looked like they were cutting off supply to the rest of his body. Wills heart started to race at the sight of him. He looked so sexy like that, so helplessly full and paralysed due to his greedy habits. Will sat by Logan’s feet and he traced a hand up his thick thighs onto his hips and resting on his lower belly. 

“Ugh that feels good. Thank you Will.” Logan groaned as Will slipped his hand under Logan’s tight button up, massaging his belly. 

“Let’s loosen these up huh?” Will said as his hand slipped under the waist line of his tight jeans. Unbuckling his belt and then the button at the top of his jeans, Will heard the sigh of relief as his stomach wasn’t restrained to his tight clothes. As Will unbuttoned his jeans, he felt a warm heat coming from Logan’s groan area. The sight of a strong large boner was clear to see in his tight jeans. 

“I really like you Will” Logan grunted, his eyes still closed as Will kept on rubbing his bloated belly. 

“I really like you too Logan. You’re amazing” Will said feeling himself start to get restless with his pulsating dick pushing at his jeans to be released. 

“Touch me Will. I need you so bad” Logan was almost fully moaning these words now. Will did as he was told and traced his hand down Logan’s hairy lower belly and reached his throbbing dick. As Wills hand touched the head of the throbbing member, Logan quickly moaned and breathed heavily. “Ohh yes. Hmmm this feels amazing” Logan panted as Will slowly stocked his cock. “Wait wait” Logan said sitting up slightly and looking at Will. “We’ve not even kissed yet. And I’m already having you rub my dick. Shit I’m sorry I was just so caught up I didn’t even-“ 

“Hey. Don’t. I wanted it as much as you. You’re not making me do anything. I’m happy doing whatever you want” Will said reassuringly. 

“Okay. Okay.” Logan started to calm down slightly. He moved him self bsck down the sofa and grabbed Will by the waist and moving him on top of himself in a straddle position. “You know. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before. You’re very special Will.” Logan said placing a hand on Wills cheek and playing with his ear slightly. “Very” he whispered as the two boys got very close. 

“I’ve never been happier in my life” Will whispered back. The two of them couldn’t hold back anymore. They locked lips with each other and started slowly making out with the other. It felt like fireworks were filling Wills stomach, a warm flush running all over his body. He was so utterly happy in this moment. A slow kissing pace quickly picked up speed and before the two of them knew it they were ripping off each other’s clothes. Now sat naked on top of Logan, Will placed his perky ass right a top Logan’s big throbbing dick. Logan’s body was stunning to look at. He had a light sprinkling of hair across his whole torso, his chest firm and his arms strong. However his stomach didn’t appear as toned as the rest of him. Could be because of the huge meal they just had or maybe the fact he’d been eating Nesrly 10 donuts a day for a week but his stomach was smooth and rounded. Will placed his hands on his stomach and felt that it was tight with a slight squish around his lower gut. “I want you to fuck me” Will whispered in Logan’s ear, nibbling on his ear lobe as he said it. Without a word between them, Logan positioned himself and slowly inserted his dick into Wills fluffy round ass. A slow rhythmic fucking started, with the both of them moaning, Will never had taken a dick so big before, and Logan had never had sex with a guy before, but he appeared an expert at it. He hit all the right spots inside of Wills tender hole. The pace started to quicken and the two boys started to sweat as the intensity picked up. It felt amazing. Like the two were a puzzled piece that fit perfectly inside each other. As the pace got quicker, Will looked down at Logan and noticed his bloated belly having a slight wobble to it in the lower part of his gut. The thought of Logan getting bigger and his belly getting wobblier was intoxicating. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. Bouncing on top of this hunk of a man was driving Will crazy. Without any stimulation from Logan rubbing his cock, wills load exploded all over Logan’s hair chest. At the sensation of hot sticky cum hitting his chest, Logan couldn’t hold it anymore and drove deep into Wills hole to release his seed. Will felt his insides get coated with hot white cum that slowly leaked out of his ass as Logan removed his huge dick from his hole. Will collapses on top of Logan, panting as they carried on making out with each other. 

“I really like you Will. I want to keep seeing you. I want to see you everyday” Logan panted stoking Wills messy hair. 

“I was just thinking the same thing” Will replied with a smile across his face. 

Sorry this is a long part. I wanted to put in as much detail as possible and also wanted to move the story along a bit. We are finally getting to some gainer stuff now and my plan for part 3 focuses heavily on the two boys getting bigger so stay tuned for that. Hope you enjoyed this part and the story so far!

[the-broken-pen]

Hi! I love love LOVE your writing so much!!!❤️❤️(it’s the only thing sometimes that can help me reorient myself when life sucks)-

Idk if you’ve already written a work like this- but could you write about a villain who fakes being in a relationship with hero to get information. Hero absolutely loves them and thinks that they can finally be happy….but then Villain breaks their heart- while saying they never loved them and that it was all a lie.

and then later on Villain regrets it and realizes they are actually obsessed with hero and go full psycho?

The hero had spent their childhood watching as their parents fought viciously with one another. Slamming doors and breaking plates, and then sullen, withdrawn and nearly silent conversations illuminated only by the dying lamp in the corner of the living room. Whatever the hero’s parents had, it wasn’t love, and never would be. The hero had no way of knowing if it ever had been. 

And then the hero had watched as time after time, their sister loved someone with her whole heart and was left shattered on the hero’s doorstep at the end of it. Fairytales that ended with no happy ending, ripped up love notes and a hundred playlists made for people their sister could no longer bear to name out loud.

The hero had watched their entire family reach for love and fall flat every time, and had resigned themself to a fate of the kind of heartbreak you cannot escape. The kind that hangs over heads like a cloud and fogs mirrors.

And then–

The villain. The hero had met the villain, and the villain had smiled, and they thought maybe, just maybe, they had beaten the curse. That they were meant for the soft kind of love they had only imagined when they were young, before the pain of it got too great.

The hero had let the villain intertwine themself into the hero’s life, and they had thought they were okay. They had thought they had made it. 

Which was why, now, they couldn’t seem to make themself think anything sensical at all.

The villain settled the file in front of the hero gently, on the table they had picked out together with as much care as one was capable of. They almost, almost, looked like they regretted it, face soft and breakable.

The villain cleared their throat in the silence. “If you just read it–”

“What, can’t say it yourself?”

The villain stopped, swallowing. This was the first time in a very long time the hero had seen them look unsure.

The hero scoffed at them. “I know about Project Pegasus.”

The villain went very, very still. They looked down towards the folder.

“So then–”

“This?” the hero picked up the folder, waving it once. They tossed it onto the floor without looking. “I’ve already read it. Two weeks ago.” They stared at the villain, and did their best not to blink. “I just hoped it was fake.”

The hero wondered if maybe, this was what had happened to their parents. If they had spent all of that time fighting and hating one another and crying in darkened rooms just so they could spend the rest of it constantly reaching back towards one another. Pretending that the file wasn’t real. That the fights were nothing more than a blip in existence and not the roots of a rot so deep it would never be fully cut out of them. 

They had wondered about a lot of things, curled on the bathroom floor around that wretched file, but mostly they had wondered if they had always been meant to end up here. If this was what being doomed felt like. 

The villain blinked.

“You hoped it was fake.”

The hero felt a little like they couldn’t breathe. They sucked a shallow breath in through their nose anyways. 

“If you–” their voice broke. “If you were me, would you want to believe it?”

The villain’s shoulders, almost imperceptibly, slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, are you?”

“Yes,” the villain said, but in the space where they should have explained themself, where they should have said it was fake, and that they loved the hero more than anything, and that this little apartment meant everything to them–they said nothing.

“So, what,” the hero snapped, voice wet with barely held back tears. “You’re going to tell me you didn’t mean for me to fall in love with you? That this was an accident? That you’re sorry again? That you never meant to hurt me–”

“No,” the villain corrected gently. “You were always meant to fall in love with me.”

A tiny sob wormed its way out of the hero’s throat before they could stop themself, and they pressed their shaking fist to their mouth before anything else could follow, turning away.

“It was just about the information,” the villain said, and the hero shoved themself back from the table, just to get further away from the love of their life.

“You knew what you were doing,” the hero said bitterly. “You know me. You knew. You knew I would never be able to get over this, and you did it anyways–”

“It’s my job,” the villain protested, and it took the hero everything in them to remain standing. “It wasn’t personal.”

“You made yourself my world, you made yourself into my everything, you made me fall in love with you–”

“I never made you do anything.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t get to say that. This was your goal, wasn’t it? Own up to your accomplishments. Go on. Tell me how proud you are. Do it.”

“Hero.”

“I loved you,” the hero was screaming, maybe.

And there it was. Past tense.

Loved.

The villain stepped back like the hero had slapped them.

“Hero,” their voice was barely a whisper.

The hero picked up the file. Rifled through it once more.

“Hero–”

The hero held out the file. The villain didn’t take it, hands remaining limp at their side.

“Take it.” They gestured with the file. “Take it, and get out.”

The villain sucked in a breath.

“Hero,” the villain said again, uselessly. 

“Tell me you love me, then. Tell me you meant it.” They gestured to the file once more. “Tell me that this is the lie.”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

The villain opened their mouth, and for a second, the hero hoped–

“I don’t love you.” 

The hero wished the villain had just killed them. 

“I never loved you. It was all a lie. A really, really pretty lie.”

The hero wanted to say something elegant to that. Something biting and vicious and jagged in the same way the inside of them felt right now. They wanted to say everything they had felt earlier, every thought that had cut them so that it could cut the villain too.

Instead, all they managed was a choked, “Get out.”

They threw the file at the villain.

The villain didn’t bother to catch it, letting it slam into their chest. It thudded against the floor, papers spilling out in a halo around the villain’s feet.

A part of them wanted the villain to argue further.

A part of them just wanted the villain dead.

“I’m sorry,” the villain said once more, and then they were gone.

The villain had known as soon as the hero had thrown that file that they wanted the villain dead. 

That they were more likely to claw their own bones apart than willingly reach for the villain’s hand again, and the logical part of their brain was viciously pleased about it.

It made this whole thing easier. No lingering attachments to further butcher. Just a field, burned so badly nothing would ever grow in it again, and god, wasn’t that convenient for their mission. 

A tiny, smothered part of their brain, however, wouldn’t stop screaming.

They drowned it.

But then the villain would catch themself glancing to their side in search of a smile. They would wait a beat too long after they said something, would wait for laughter, and then there would be none, and they would curse themself for it, and that little part of them would come gasping back to life and start screaming again.

Possibly it was that little part of them that had made them send a message to the hero, offering the apartment. It was the least they could do, right? Fuck up their life and then get the fuck out of it. 

But the texts had said delivered, but never read, and three days later when the villain used their key to open the lock, they found themself stepping into a mausoleum and not a home. 

They weren’t sure what they were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Dust hanging in the air. Blank squares left on the walls where pictures had once hung. Empty cabinets, empty floors, empty rooms; no, whatever they had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

For a reason they couldn’t name, they went from room to room, searching for something without quite understanding what. It wasn’t until they had come full circle back into the living room, fingers coated in dust and an aching chest, that the villain had realized. Ghosts. They were looking for ghosts. 

Because there was nothing better to describe the way they felt right now other than haunted. And if there was something, anything, of the hero left in here to burn, to destroy, to exorcise, they could use it as an excuse–

There was nothing left of the hero. There were no ghosts. This place was just dead.

The villain made a shuddering little sound, and slammed the front door closed behind them when they managed to stumble into the hallway. 

This was an easy mission, it was–

–two years and dates over ramen and houseplants–

–something even a new recruit could do–

–i love you’s in the dark and the scent of the hero on all of their clothes and–

–something the villain was trained for, countless hours spent–

–laughing and crying and rainy days and sunny ones–

–learning how to fake love, and somehow–

–the villain had forgotten it was fake.

The villain couldn’t breathe.

The villain had forgotten they weren’t supposed to fall in love, too.

The villain had forgotten they weren’t supposed to fall in love too, and they had just set their entire world ablaze around themself.

Fuck.

It really only made sense, then, that they found themself standing on the roof of their old apartment building as it burned. And when that didn’t work, they moved onto the next, until a third building went up in flames beneath their feet. They knew the kind of message it would send, and they knew exactly who that message would get sent to–

The hero landed on the other end of the rooftop, as far away from the villain as they could possibly get. 

“Stop,” the hero hissed, teeth clenched. “Stop lighting things on fire to get my attention, just stop–”

“I’m in love with you,” the villain said, voice wrecked, and the hero reacted like the villain had shot them. They stepped away, feet bumping against the edge like the fall was a better option than the villain.

“No,” the hero said. They shook as they said it. “Stop it. You don’t get to do this to me.”

“I love you,” the villain said again, and the hero pressed a hand over their own heart.

“Stay away from me,” the hero managed after a moment. Another deep breath, and their hand dropped back down to their side. “Go do whatever it is you need to do, go ruin anyone else’s life, and stay out of the wreckage of mine.”

“We have a life together,” the villain tried. If the hero could just see, could see that they could fix it– “I’m sorry. I was stupid, I was so, so stupid. But you can’t just leave, please, just let me fix it–”

“I told you to get out,” the hero said, and there was nothing soft in their eyes as they looked at the villain. “What about the way I said it made you think it was temporary?”

“Hero, please, let me fix–”

“Villain,” the hero said calmly, voice sharp. “Some things aren’t meant to be rebuilt.”

All of the air left the villain’s lungs in a pathetic sort of wheeze.

“You’re my everything,” the villain choked out. “My whole world, and I’m so sorry. I was–I made a mistake, but you can’t just throw us away–”

“No,” the hero spat, and the villain flinched. “You burned that world to the ground. You’re standing in the ashes of it. You don’t get to come to me begging for it back.”

The villain felt unmoored. Like the world had shifted one step to the left and they had no idea what to do with their limbs anymore, no idea how to keep existing.

“But I love you.”

“The only person who feels anything when you say that is you.”

This time, it was the villain who stepped back.

“Please,” the villain whispered, and the hero closed their eyes.

“What were you expecting to happen. That I would forgive you? Would fall back into your arms? You could tell me that you’re sorry in every language for the rest of your life and that wouldn’t make what you did hurt me any less. So why would you think you could light a building on fire, tell me you love me, and then make everything go back to the way it was?”

“I–I don’t–”

“There is no back,” the hero said firmly. “There is no undo.”

“I don’t know what to do,” the villain said. A tear dripped off the edge of their chin.

The hero appraised them.

“Learn to live with it.”

The villain sucked in a shuddering breath.

“I can’t live without you, okay, I can’t–”

“Then die.”

The villain froze. They waited for the hero to take it back, but the hero just stared at them, face stony and cold. An avenging angel on the edge of the rooftop, firelight flickering at their back and smoke rising into the air, not an ounce of sympathy left in their bones for the villain.

And before the villain could say anything, say that the hero couldn’t possibly mean that, the hero spoke again.

“I mean it. You are not my problem.”

The villain was choking. They were drowning on air and the hole they had left inside of themself when they ripped the hero out of their life and the hero was just watching them–

“Please,” they said pathetically, and even as they said it they knew it was futile.

The hero didn’t bother to give them another response.

They watched the hero leave without saying anything, smoke beginning to sting their eyes and nose as their hands shook. 

It felt terminal. It felt world-ending. It felt deserved.

They wished the hero had just killed them.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 18

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 900

Masterlist

———————————————————————

I looked at myself in the mirror.  

My royal blue skirt fit my curves perfectly, with a front slit and a V-shaped cut in the back. My long, wavy blonde hair was loose, my makeup highlighted my green eyes and my lips, and I’d gained five centimeters with my black heels. Not bad at all, I thought, amused.  

I smiled.  

I was ready for this infamous dinner.

I arrived at 8:00 p.m., joining Alessia, who was waiting for me.  

Her eyes widened.  

“Wow, you’re a knockout,” she said, kissing my neck.  

I regretted, in that moment, that I’d put on this dress thinking about Lucy. What was I playing at? Where was this going to lead?

Standing outside the door, my hands, a little clammy, held a bottle of red wine.  

It was Lucy who opened the door, looking stunning in a seafoam green dress that suited her perfectly.  

She welcomed us warmly, and I noticed that, once Alessia had stepped inside, her gaze landed on me, scanning my dress, my neckline, and then locking on my eyes.  

She murmured softly, meeting my gaze, 

“Well, Ona, for someone who didn’t want to come, you’ve really outdone yourself!” 

I felt thrown off. Pull it together, Ona, or this evening will be a disaster.

There were five of us at the aperitif: Lucy, Paul, his father Jean, Alessia, and myself. The twins weren’t there; they were away on a school trip.  

The aperitif set a jovial tone for the evening. Jean was very charming and funny, Paul was as warm and affable as ever, and my Alessia, as sweet, curious, and spontaneous as always.  

Lucy was more reserved than usual, which wasn’t like her. I could feel her gaze on me many times, which delighted me.

We moved to the table. Jean sat at the head, with Alessia beside me, and Lucy across from me.  

A complex, strange situation to navigate.  

Next to me sat the woman I’d spent five years of my life with, whom I loved and was still seeing, with no idea that I was sleeping with my client, Lucy, sitting across from us.  

Lucy—over forty, married, mother of two, and my lover for nearly two months.

The strangest part was discussing future plans for couples that didn’t really exist.  

“So, what are you two planning to do after Lucy leaves her city council role?” Alessia asked.  

And later, “You’re going to be so happy in this house!” 

When, in reality, they’d never live there together. I was the only one who knew that.  

The same went for me and Alessia:

“How will you two manage things when Alessia moves to Canada?” Paul asked us.

I had to improvise, make things up.

Despite everything, and maybe helped along by the alcohol, I became bolder as the evening wore on.

When Paul said to me, “Lucy is thrilled with the project’s progress! And after my visit, I have to say I’m a big fan too!” 

I added with a hint of mischief,  

“Thank you! I know Lucy’s favorite room is the Italian-style bathroom, with the jets and the lighting, even though that lighting can be hard to find, isn’t it?” I said with a smile.

When Paul laughed and asked what had happened with that lighting, Lucy’s smile faded. Naturally, I spun a different, much softer story.  

But I was thrilled with the effect, even if I felt a little wicked for doing it, especially in front of Alessia. But I couldn’t help myself.

During dessert, while I was helping clear the plates, Lucy grabbed my arm, pulling me into the back kitchen with a firm grip.

“What are you playing at, Ona?” she demanded.

Our faces were only inches apart.

“What? It’s just a dinner, we’re having fun!” 

She stared at me, unyielding.  

“So, are you planning to tell them we’re sleeping together by the end of dessert? Is that the plan after your little hints?”  

“Relax, Lucy. I haven’t said a thing. Besides, it’s just a friendly dinner, loosen up!” I replied, brushing her thigh as I left the room.

I had left her there, literally frozen. She was now as thrown off balance as I had been, unsure of how to react.  

Back at dessert, I went as far as grazing her calf with my foot, staring at her. She now looked back, a mix of anger, agitation, and embarrassment on her face.

I hardly recognized myself. How could I be doing this, here, now, next to Alessia? This wasn’t like me at all.  

I was a little tipsy, but that didn’t explain everything.

We left the apartment around one in the morning. Alessia had had a lovely evening and hadn’t noticed the game of tension between Lucy and me.  

Once on the street, she said, 

“See, it was great! She’s not so unpleasant after all, that Lucy! Are you coming home with me tonight?”

“I can’t, Alessia... I really need to finish a project; I’ll be working late,” I replied.

She pouted, then smiled.

“Alright, Bella, baccio!” 

She kissed me.

I had just received a message from Lucy, asking me to meet her at her office at the town hall.

[babydollslibrary]

HITS DIFFERENT— JACK HUGHES

published: March 27th, 2023

summary: in which y/n and Jack were in a relationship for 4 years before deciding to go separate ways, but everything reminds her of him and y/n realizes she’s made a mistake by letting him go.

specific lyrics: “i washed my hands of us at the club, you made a mess of me. i pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street.” and “they say that if it's right, you know. each bar plays our song, nothing has ever felt so wrong.” and “i find the artifacts, cried over a hat, cursed the space that i needed. i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleedin'. you were the one that i loved.” and “i heard your key turn in the door down the hallway. is that your key in the door? is it okay? is it you?” and “i never don't cry at the bar. yeah, my sadness is contagious. i slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car.” and “love is a lie; shit my friends say to get me by.”

GIF by mattymartin

the reflection staring back at me is a bit of a hot mess. mascara smudged, hair tousled, lipstick fading. i stare in the mirror until i feel the sting of the hot water on my hands, pulling them back with a hiss of pain. the alcohol running through my veins helps me avoid overthinking about this dingy club bathroom, my shoes sticking to the floor with every step. but the buzz does nothing to help with the thoughts that run through my mind when i hear the song that’s blasting from the speakers throughout the club.

“y/n/n, you good?” my head snaps over to Marie, her upper body peeking in through the bathroom door. one look at me makes her sigh. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“it’s our song.” i explain, as though she hasn’t heard the same excuse at every other bar we’ve been to in the past six months.

“i know it is, hun.” she gives me a pitiful smile, fully entering the grimy bathroom in order to grab my hand.

“it just feels so wrong hearing it without him.” tears well up in my eyes, my heart hurting just a little extra.

“let’s go get you another drink.” i give a numb nod in response, letting her lead me to our other friends that sit in a booth by the bar. at the sight of my state, they both give each other an unspoken glance before giving me a look of pity.

“i ordered you another tequila sunrise.” Beth tells me, sliding the drink towards me. i drop into the booth, muttering a short ‘thanks’ before gulping at the drink.

“lay it on us, babe. what’s on your mind tonight?” Lisa pipes up, sipping at her own drink and raising a brow at me.

“i just— they say that if it’s right, you know. and i thought we were right. but, it makes no sense because why didn’t i know until we broke up? i mean, i knew. obviously i knew, i followed him here from Michigan. but, i didn’t know know until we separated, ya know?”

“i’m gonna be honest, i only understood maybe half of what you just said.” Lisa says, making Beth and Marie giggle. “but love is a lie, y/n/n. sure, you can like someone enough to be with them for a long time, but romantic love? complete bullshit. it doesn’t exist. this isn’t the movies.”

“she’s right. and the quicker you realize that, the quicker you’ll get over him.” Marie nods, pointing at Lisa as she speaks while Beth hums in agreement.

“i don’t know if i’ll ever get over him. i love him. i miss him.” i whine. “i want him back. i don’t wanna be here. i want Jack.”

“alright, maybe it’s time we get you back home.” Beth sighs, tapping her thumbs on her phone. ordering an uber, i assume.

“i don’t wanna go home. i wanna see Jack.”

“you can’t see Jack, y/n. you’re drunk, and you guys broke up.” Marie pats my shoulder, helping me out of the booth and out of the club, the other two girls following behind us.

i continue mumbling to myself, my words slurred, and i’m eighty percent sure that the only actual audible word was my ex’s name.

“c’mon, hun. watch your head.” Lisa coos, helping me into the uber. “we’ll see you on tuesday, babe. get some sleep.”

Marie and Beth call out some goodbyes before Lisa shuts the car door, she motions for the guy up front to lower his window, whispering something to him before he starts off towards my house.

“would it be too late to ask to change the drop off location?” i ask him, anxiously playing with the strap of my purse as i speak.

“i’m sorry, ma’am. your friend just told me you might ask that. she said i’m under strict orders to take you straight to the predetermined destination.” i heave out a deep breath, slumping back into the seat of the car.

it doesn’t take too long to get to my apartment complex, muttering a ‘thank you’ to the man before sliding out of the vehicle and making my way up to my apartment. as soon as i make it into the apartment, i bee-line for my bedroom, stripping out of my club outfit and changing into some leggings and a tank top. i wipe off my makeup and throw my hair up before entering my closet. my sights set on the old USA Hockey sweatshirt on my shelf, i hop up, reaching for the article of clothing. however, as soon as i pull it down, something else comes tumbling down with it, falling to the floor in front of me.

slipping the sweatshirt on, i bend down to pick up the fallen item. holding it, tears prick the backs of my eyes as i realize what it is, Jack’s hat. his New York Yankees hat to be exact. my heart aches remembering the times he wore it. our Yankees game, date nights, even just lounging around the house. clutching the hat to my chest, i sink to the floor, sitting criss cross as i cry.

space. why did i think i needed space? i got plenty of space when he was always gone for roadies. fuck space. i just want him. my fingers trace the Yankees symbol, my tears falling down onto the dark blue fabric. why does it still hurt so bad? it’s been six months.

i know it may not help that i’m still in the same apartment we shared. every piece of this home reminds me of him. but it’s been much too hard to move. i tried looking at other apartments, but nothing felt as right as this one. i’m not ready to give up the last piece i have of the one i love.

too busy crying on the closet floor, i barely hear the lock on the front door turning. my head snaps up at the sound, trying to remember which of my friends have spare keys. Marie, Beth, and Lisa are the only ones, but i just left them. that only leaves two other options, Quinn or Jack. but, that i’m aware of, Quinn is still in Vancouver. i know he doesn’t have another game in New Jersey until next month. which only leaves Jack. i try not to get my hopes up, but i can’t help but wonder if it’s him, if he’s come back. the chances are slim. it’s been six months, why would he come back now?

i come to the decision that it’s probably Marie checking up on me. probably worried about the way i was when we parted not that long ago. it wouldn’t be the first time she’s checked on me.

footsteps thump against the wooden floors, getting closer to the bedroom, and i huddle further into the closet, hoping Marie will just leave me alone. tears still stream down my face as i clutch the hat closer to my chest, letting out silent sobs.

“y/n?”

that’s not Marie.

too exhausted, i opt out of leaving the closet, not even able to get myself to speak without being racked with sobs. i sniffle as i hear him pass the closet, the footsteps stop for a moment before i hear them start again, getting closer to the cracked open closet door. i don’t bother looking, fully believing that at this point i’m a mix of drunk and sleep deprived, just hearing things that aren’t there. i wipe at my eyes but the tears keep coming. i shift to bring my knees to my chest, the hat now gripped in my hands in front of me.

“oh, baby.” i hear from behind me before a body drops down beside me on the floor, pulling me into them. his cologne fills my senses, my face buried into his chest. the scent fills me with melancholy, memories of when he used to hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. comforting me. making me feel at home within his arms.

“it’s okay.” as if i summoned the whispers with my thoughts, his breath fans across my ear. “i’m here. i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

his reassurances calm me just slightly, but the real help is when he splays a hand along my chest, taking deep breaths. muscle memory takes over as i mimic his breathing.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once i’ve finally calmed enough to speak. i wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, finally looking up into the blue eyes that peer down at me.

“Beth called me.” he whispers.

“she did?”

“yeah. she told me you’re not doing okay.” he confesses. “she didn’t tell me much more than that. just that she’d really appreciate if i checked on you.”

“you came over here in the middle of the night just to check on me?” i question. “you have a game tomorrow. you should be sleeping.”

“you’re a lot more important than a game.” his hand moves from my chest to cup my jaw. “i told you i would always be here for you, y/n. i meant it.”

“but, we broke up. i didn’t think you cared anymore.” a lone tear drops from my right eye as i speak.

“i’ll always care about you. i don’t think i can ever stop. i love you, y/n/n. and i know you said you wanted space, and i respected that, but i told you when we broke up that i would be here when you decided you were ready.” he pauses, his eyes scanning my face before he continues speaking. “and now i really hope you’re ready because these past few months have been hell without you.”

“i made a mistake. i don’t want space. i want you. you’re the only thing i’ve wanted since i was seventeen.” my voice is barely above a whisper, scared for his response.

“you have me. i’m right here.” his eyes jump between my own and my lips three times before he leans down. i meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a slow kiss. gentle passion and love radiates between us, his hands cupping my face as mine grip the nape of his neck as if he'll disappear from my hold.

pulling away, his forehead leans against mine. my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the smile gracing his lips. a smile of my own spread across my face and i crane my neck to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"i missed you so much." i admit. "moving on from boys in high school was so easy, but the heartbreak hit different this time."

"that's how you know it's real. we're real. there's no moving on from us." he tells me. "at least, not for me."

he pulls me in tighter against him, crashing his lips against mine once more, and i feel content again, my life being fixed with such a simple motion.

[opalcicle]

If They Call Me a Slut, You Know it Might be Worth it for Once

Ch. 12 All Day Breakfast

Fluff mostly.

I drift back from my half asleep state, wrapped up in the arm of my lover. Charlie's got his phone in one hand and stokes my back with the other. Stretching out my body, I complain to my muscles in a groan.

"Hey, there you are," he sets his phone down and smiles at me, quickly rolling is over to pin me down with kisses all over my face.

"Hey," I protest weakly, "let me wake up first,"

"Nope," his smile presses against my skin.

When I manage to put my lips on his neck I blow, making zerber noises before pushing him back.

"Oh we're doing this now?" His expression turns mischievous and he presses me to the bed by my arms. His lips work down my body, sealing to me and tickling with the loud sounds of zerbers.

"Stop, Staah- ah- ahp. Charlie!" I protest through giggles. "What time is it?"

He finally releases me to fulfill my request and checks the time. "5:25," he announces before placing one last, long kiss on my lips.

As my body continues to wake my stomach growls loudly. I'd meant to eat when I'd gotten home but instead I'd had this delicious man.

"Get ready," Charlie puts a hand on my belly, "I'll take you out to eat,"

"Where?" I groan, turning over to press my face into a pillow.

"Guess," he cuddles back in beside me.

I grumble into the pillow, my brain and body not wanting to leave the bed. "Is it the breakfast place on the corner?"

"How'd you know?" He feins shock, putting on the same royal voice he used for his Elden Ring expansion bit.

"Because you just wanted me to pick a place," I can't help but smile at his goofy tone.

"How dare you!" He continues the bit, standing from the bed. "You mock me in attempt to conceal your predictive powers,"

"Sure," I giggle into the pillow.

"Witch! To the pits with you!" Charlie pulls the blankets off my naked body and grabs me by the ankles.

"Noooo," I half-heartedly protest.

"To the pits! One hundred years of torture!" He pulls me dramatically off the foot of the bed, catching me in his arms before I hit the floor. The pillow comes with me, still held between my arms.

"Charliiee!" I groan through a goofy grin.

"A hundred years!" He announces to my bedroom before planting rapidfire kisses all over the side of my face.

I squeal, flailing limbs in attempt to get away. The giggles leaving my lips are sporadic and mixed with complaints. This feels so natural for us. Part of me thinks I should feel weird being on my floor naked with my best friend while he pretends to torture me with kisses. It doesn't, though. It feels nice.

Eventually he pulls us both to our feet, letting me go with a smack on my ass, "Okay, now get ready."

I continue to complain but make my way over to the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair looks wild, and the little bit of makeup I had on was streaked under my eyes. I smiled at the aftermath Charlie'd left for me. Getting myself presentable again wasn't too hard, but the hickies left by Bizly were so red and prominent. I did my best to cover them in concealer, knowing chat would give me shit for them later. I pulled my hair in front of them and found a mock-neck tee that would hide the rest.

Charlie, now dressed in one of my hoodies, was waiting on my bed when I was done. "Ready?" He asks, leaning away from his phone to look at me.

"Ready enough," I find a baseball cap to keep my hair more under control, putting in on backwards. "Let's go,"

His touch lingers on me as we leave. A hand on my back as I lock my door, then taking mine as we walk to his car. As we pull away from my building I feel him grab my thigh. Casually, he asks, "So what's your plan for stream tonight?"

"Don't have one," I sigh, "I might ask the chat for suggestions or have them vote on something,"

"Well if you're taking suggestions..." His voice trails off and I catch more mischief on his face.

"Really, Charlie? Live, on camera?" I joke, watching my favorite colour take over his cheeks again.

"No! No, I mean, like, what if I join you?" He regains composer quickly, "Like what if I stick around and we play some easy games?"

My mind flashes quickly over the repercussions of having him stream with me. When we play online together chat goes nuts. We've been shipped together before, would it be obvious now that we're- what even are we? Fuck no I am not having those thoughts right now. Bizly might see. Ah shit, what is even going on with me and Biz? I probably gotta talk to him. Fear builds in my chest and the urge to make a quick escape bubbles up again.

Charlie notices, "Hey we don't have to-"

"Yes!" I cut him off, raising my voice. "Yes let's do it,"

"Live, on camera?" He teases.

"Fuck off," I giggle.

He squeezes my leg in a way that's comforting. It's not enough to quell the anxiety completely, but I remember that I'm safe. Several deep breaths later I realize we've been in the parking lot of our all-day breakfast spot for a hot minute.

"Ready?" His voice is soft and I nod in response.

I get French toast and Charlie gets a plate full of protein. Eggs, sausage, bacon, I'm sure if they had plain fried ground chicken here he'd order it too.

"God this is so fucking good," I mumble through my food. "Nice place for a first date,"

"Is that what this is?" Charlie says between bites, scrunching his nose when I talk with my mouthful, "Cause I was actually hoping I could take you out later this week,"

"Yeah, where to?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"It's a surprise," he winks, "You'll like it, promise,"

"Uggggh, tell me," I groan.

Our usual routine of bugging eachother settles in naturally as we eat. On the way home we sing Gracie Abrams and Hozier before I remember my weekend plans, "Hey, are you coming to karaoke this weekend?"

"Yeah, you're coming?" The excitement in his voice is contagious, and I know what he's about to say, "because then we have to pick our songs,"

"How many do you think they'll let us do together before we get kicked off stage?" I wonder out loud.

"Oh you don't know!" Charlie is practically bouncing in his seat, "We got a private room, like they have in Japan. We're gonna have a whole little place to ourselves, like maybe eight of us, including you,"

"Oh my gosh! Who's gonna be there?"

"Condi, Grizzly, Me, You. Here let me check," he opens his phone as we stop by my place.

"Okay, looks like us, Jaiden, her friend Jacob- his name is AlphaRad, blond hair-"

"We've met," I interrupt.

"Cool, their friend Giwi, and oh, Bizly's gonna be there." He tries to say it casually, but it comes out tense. Trying to be cool about it he continues, "Maybe he'll wanna do a song with you too,"

I plant my face in my hands and try so hard not to laugh. I fail hard.

"Be nice!" Charlie tries to play off whatever he's actually feeling by teasing me, "This is all a little weird for me,"

"Fuck we gotta talk about this too, don't we?" I sigh as my laughter passes. Then, carefully, "What if he does want to sing a song with me?"

He pauses behind me as I unlock my door, stepping inside and leaving my shoes. The clock on the stove reads 6:15, we have some time.

Following me in, he responds, "Well, you can sing with whoever you want,"

Ignoring the prickles creeping up my spine I take Charlie by the hand and walk to my couch, "I'm not asking for permission, I'm asking how you feel,"

He leans back on the couch, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. "Well, I mean, I don't want to get in your way. I think you should do what you want,"

I lean on his shoulder, "I care about how you feel, Charlie." There's silence for several long moments, maybe even minutes. It eats away at my chest but I take slow and steady breaths. "Charlie?"

"Yeah?" He sounds distant.

"I know- I know that I don't always react well to this kind of stuff. You've seen me breakdown dozens of times. I want to make space for you, I want- I want to make you feel safe too."

"Hey you do, I do feel safe with you," he rushes to placate me.

Guilt washes over me as I realize how much this man has been pushing aside for me, how often the way I feel and what I want has been first in our friendship for him. "I think you keep putting me first,"

There's a huff from him as he adjusts the way he's sitting. "That's probably true,"

"If you're not ready to talk about this, that's okay too." I am surprised at my own steadiness in the moment.

"I'm- I'm scared, jealous," he rests his head on mine. "I'm okay with going along with whatever you'll have me for,"

"That's very sweet Charlie. If- if you could have it the way you wanted, what would that be like?"

"We don't have enough time before your stream," he teases, but the joke doesn't make it to his tone.

"Do you want to be serious, like together? Do you want me to stop seeing other people?" I cut the metaphors and shoot straight to the point.

"Yes, to the first part. Absolutely yes." He starts, "and... no?" He leans up off of me again and I turn to look at him while he speaks, "I think, I mean I've been thinking, about this- us, you. I know you like kissing girls at parties, and seeing new people. I know that it's not just you running from commitment. I know that you like to have a lot of sex. I know you, I like you, as you are,"

"Charlie I-"

"Wait, I'm not done. I'm scared that you're gonna find someone you want more than me. I'm jealous when I think about Bizly and you, but-" he rubs his hand through his hair again, "-its also kind of hot?"

My face flushes immediately. This is not at all the direction I thought the conversation was headed in.

"I'm sorry, I know that's kind of- fuck, sorry," he's red again too. "I just like, I think a lot about pulling you away from him, into my lap- about you choosing me. He- he wasn't wrong about me liking a challenge."

"Oh. My. God." is the only thing I can say in the moment.

"I'm sorry- I know- I just like, so if you were to fuck him and then like, come back to me and I claim you again, like, that would be cool," his voice pitches higher as he stumbles through the sentence.

"I'm hard? My dick is hard?" I joke, trying to break the moment.

"Yeah? Are you good with that?"

"Take me, right fucking now," I'm being half serious and I think he sees it in my face.

"You've got to stream soon," we warns, but his eyes stare into mine and his arm slips around me, pulling me closer.

"Make it fast?" I ask as he pulls me up onto his lap. Our mouths meet, and the heat between us is enough to burn. He reaches under my shirt, hands pressing my tits hard. "Wait," I push us apart with my hands on his chest. "You're being serious though, about us seeing other people too?"

"Yeah. It's new, and I know it'll be some work, but I want this," he smiles, and then pauses, "Wait, did you just ask me out?"

"Yeah," I giggle nervously, "So... you're my boyfriend?"

He beams, whispering, "Boyfriend," though his grin as he leans forward to kiss me again.

I feel something wet on my nose as we kiss and pull back again, "Charlie you're crying!"

"Oh fuck," he sniffles, "fuck, sorry,"

I laugh as I wipe his tears, kissing the places on his face where they ran down. The heat doesn't cool but becomes something else. Something I haven't felt for a long time. It's warm and wonderful in my chest. The word scares me, but it's here. "Hey Charlie," I say softly as our sudden passion melts into soft kisses and gentle touches on skin.

"Yeah?" He murmurs back.

The sound from my mouth is a whisper inspite of my head trying to scream them from my body. "Charlie, I love you,"

His face presses into the side of mine as he tries to become the entirety of my physical space. He breathes out with a heavy amount of relief, whispering back, "I love you too."

There's a long sweet moment where I feel like I'm floating in a cloud of magic nothingness with the man I love. Then Charlie pops his head up, "Dude, you've gotta start stream,"

[poisonandpages]

Is this what the kids call an "accidental closet cosplay"?

[golddustdyke]

i feel like i can never get into charli xcx's music. i need something to bite into not even a lot just a little but i can never find anything to bite into with her music. like i can never find the juice of her music. her music is the equivalent to the sound of a heart flatlining and not in a fun way but in a boring way

[pliablehead]

i was born in the wrong body. i'm supposed to be a goblin

[yourcomputerr]

there is some weird as fuck noise happening outside girl its nearly 4am can we please not

[thetriangletattoo]

.

[selvepnea]

A strange shirt sort of dream?

[izzy-b-hands]

Was gonna sleep in. Instead woke up randomly at 5 am and have been writing a fix it steddyhands fic since then

I work in like. six hours. I have gotten maybe four hours sleep. Today is a double shift day that'll have me working bit late into the night.

This is fine.