#I know that if I didn’t have pots or even had a less severe case

[deliciousdietdrpepper]

Something painful I’ve realized about POTs is that it’s alienating. Specifically, when everyone else has a head full of thoughts, when in a episode, it’s as if when I talk to them I’m not there. Mental connections are few and far between, and when in an episode, I might say things and voice insecurities that I otherwise wouldn’t. So when I’m in that position, I just don’t talk to people anymore. In a group, everyone will continue talking, but because it takes so long to piece what I’m truly thinking together, and so much effort to say it, I won’t bring up my thoughts or opinions—and that’s Bad! For relationships! I’ve realized that I have an unhealthy well of jealousy for people who are able to connect to each other—the able-bodied and able-minded. It’s not kind, and it’s not sustainable. Yet, I have to continue living with this condition. No option there. No cure, just a million little micro-adjustments in the hope that they bring me closer to myself and others. A gallon of water, testosterone, adhd medication, blood pressure medication—none of it separates me completely from the struggle to think and speak and move. I’m divorced from my own intelligence and intuition.

At the end of the day, I’m responsible for the insecurities I bring to the table, and those are formed within a situation outside of my control, and so unique that it doesn’t relate with the majority of people. Built in neurosis. Maybe this is why disabled voices are so important. I don’t know anyone in my own life who struggles to participate the same way I do, or if they do, their struggle is as invisible to me as mine is to them.

[arrowfleur]

✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

I’ve been pretty shit at writing and posting this past year, which is crappy because I enjoy it so I wanted to do something that was less pressure than writing fics but could still make people happy. I’ve put every main redacted couple - plus a few extras - on a spin wheel and will be writing a long list of HC’s each day depending on who I get :)

Anyways, Part 1: Lasko and Dear

Dear loves thrifting but they didn’t want to take Lasko with them at first in case he found something they wanted, before they did. Now they borrow each others clothes so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

When they eventually took him he spent the entire time trying to find things they liked.

Dear has two toned hair

Lasko has never stopped thinking that dear is the coolest person to ever walk the earth, ever.

Sometimes dear wears colour contacts for fun

Both of them have a pocket watch on a chain

For their first anniversary Dear bought Lasko a locket, with a picture of the entire Damn Squad in it.

He added a photo of them to the other side

Dear has pet rats, they take such good care of them and their cage is huge

Lasko was slightly weary at first but he warmed up to them pretty well

Dear is very good at fixing things.

One of the first times they went to his apartment, his Ac broke. Dear just calmly listened to his apologetic rant about it before asking where the toolbox was.

Dear has tattoos behind their ears

Lasko is very good at saving but he’s not tight and always tries to pay for the whole table.

Very rarely has he succeeded

Dear has a collection of paper boy hats.

Lasko wears earmuffs when it’s cold because he always gets earaches

Dear has curled their hair with coke cans before

They love old black and white movies

Lasko likes really crappy b-movies

Can’t be let down if you know it’s going to be bad before it starts

Dear can keep up very well with Damien’s academic discussions and sometimes debates him just for the sake of it. Damien enjoys the challenge.

Dear is not the biggest Christmas enjoyer but this year they’re looking forward to it.

Lasko has booked a couple of Christmas markets for them

Dear HATES the idea of a cruise. Not because of the ocean but because they can’t get off the boat once it sets off.

Lasko always takes those little pots of jam and the little shampoo/conditioner bottles whenever he goes to a hotel

Neither of them can ice skate well whatsoever

Lasko has and will continue to use those little penguins meant for children. Dear finds it fucking hilarious all while they’re clinging to the side of the rink themselves

They share grandpa jumpers

When they first started dating, dear would pretend to forget their lanyard so that lasko would have to go down and let them in.

They both wear lots of rings and love playing with each others hands

Lasko used to wear those fake glasses from Claire’s

Dear is so casually flirty with Lasko that he thought it was just their personality at first

That’s why they eventually just had to go into his office and straight up ask him out

Dear kisses Lasko’s nose often, especially when they’re saying goodbye to each other or he’s severely overthinking

Dear really enjoys those mugs that change colour when you put hot water in them

Lasko has an entire cupboard dedicated to board games

Dear was delighted

Dear reads random niche comics and webtoons

And they have a lot of figurines

Lasko is an unsweetened oat milk enjoyer!!

Dear inhales food like it’s nobody’s business

It doesn’t last five minutes on their plate

They also never get indigestion

Their go-to cocktail is an old fashioned

Lasko hates it

Dear will simply repeat what Lasko says in a teasing tone to fluster him

Or they’ll just randomly start acting like the weirdest story is sexy.

‘And then he, he told me they’d have to charge me more for these stupid tires that I didn’t even ask for!’

‘ and what did you say? 😏

‘Well I- I told him,

‘ did you stick up for yourself? 😏😏

‘ well I told him I wasn’t going to pay for it’

*dear looking him up and down’

‘Good job, I don’t like it when other play dirty with you’

And they’re making out, Lasko doesn’t know how they do it they just have a way. It literally doesn’t even make sense.

Lasko’s hair grows incredibly quick. He shaves ALOT.

His skins is also so beautiful, it’s so soft and clear and glowy.

Dear has acne scars and they do little skincare nights together but Lasko thinks they’re HOT AS FUCK

Okay that’s all, also my proof that I got these guys first

[nekrotiize]

Speaking again on the Blue Robot Twitter RP thing. Putting this under a cut, since it’s a bit long, and I’m writing this a little more formally than my last rant. I didn’t expect many people to see that, on account of community size, but it occurs to me I should’ve at least put a little bit of protective measures for people to be able to more easily tap in or out of the conversation. It is a triggering one. I apologize to anyone who was negatively impacted. Rectifying it now, though.

Content Warning: Discussion of Fandom Toxicity, False Accusations.

For those unaware, I was the writing team lead from the revival a few years back, and wrote several characters myself (10 mainly, 11 later, co-wrote 01). I was a late teenager for most of that, and I became something of a scapegoat for people’s complaints of everything wrong with the revival, despite not actually being the one who penned most of the things complained about. Whenever a comparison to the good of the revival was put up, it was almost always my work. (I’m allowed to brag, I was put through hell.)

I was not allowed to clarify that the people that were being spoken of as if they were me were not actually me, because the writing team essentially had code-of-honor-enforced NDAs on them. You just didn’t tell people you were the writer of a character due to the ARG elements. Any sort of hinting at you were the writer, or even outright saying it, was “dropping the curtain”. So, I basically had to just deal with the fact that several targets were put on my back that weren’t even actually mine.

Several people were violently, hatefully obsessed with me, and this lead to me getting constantly vagueposted, shittalked, accused of things like child predation/being a pedophile/supporting pedophilia for zero reason, despite being a victim myself (this got so bad that David, the CEO, had to get involved), et cetera. It was extremely nasty. A lot of people in that community were very deeply angry people, and would stop at nothing to make everyone hate whatever they hated. Assuming the worst in people was a reflex to many. It was extremely volatile and toxic.

I tried to keep everything in order as best as I could. I poured in countless hours of work to this community that seemingly hated me, a job that did not pay me, and completely ruined my mental health (I think I’m mostly recovered now, though, which is a big victory). I was the guy who did most of the work on the wiki, planned a bunch of fan favorite arcs, made a fuck ton of music and art, et cetera. Nothing I ever did was enough for people.

I know some people are confused as to how such a small community could be so toxic. I really want to address that, since it was something that confused me at first, too. I thought, naïvely, that less people would mean toxicity was easily to quell and manage- and in this case, I was wrong.

In this case, less people meant toxicity spread faster, and was less diluted.

Everyone knew everyone. I thought this was a pro, an objectively good thing that would stop- or at least hinder- people from crafting up petty drama and stirring the pot. After all, accusing someone you know of something is a lot harder than accusing a stranger. It’s easier to assume the worst in someone when you don’t know anything about them.

What instead happened was that the “everyone knew everyone” aspect made for the absolute ripest conditions for a panopticon I’ve ever seen. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone had a weapon trained at everyone. If you didn’t have a weapon trained at somebody, you’re getting shot yourself. I didn’t like the idea of pointing guns at people for no reason, so I got shot. Like, a lot, lol.

I think at least a solid chunk as to why this was the case was, like… The fault of the construction of the fanbase in general? As in, the kind of people that composed it. It wasn’t something you knew about unless you were deeply online (red flag one), on Twitter (red flag two), and super into the vocal synthesis fandom (red flag three). “Deeply online Twitter users super into vocal synthesis as a fandom” is a very cursed sentence, because… Frankly, not a lot of people who are even just one of these things are very hinged people. Being deeply online desensitizes you to the fact that the people you interact with online are people, Twitter functions very literally on an algorithm that very enthusiastically enables and emboldens outrage, and the vocal synthesis fandom as a whole is very… Weirdly discourse filled, and generally just not a very nice group of people to be around.

In retrospect… It’s kind of a no-brainer that it would be a pretty toxic place to be, full of hateful, angry people who don’t understand that their actions have weight and consequences. I just couldn’t see this when I was younger.

… Because I was the guy who accidentally revived the fandom to begin with. I just… Started making a bunch of art of my own mental image of the story, and a pairing I thought would work really well (I made 10/01 as a ship). I didn’t expect this dead-for-years fandom to come back to life, just because I was drawing things for myself.

I didn’t expect it to be this way. I didn’t expect any eyes on me. I didn’t expect that vile little corpse to come back to life, and I didn’t expect that it contained a hideous, hateful miasma of rot and venom in it that would ruin lives, including mine.

It almost makes me feel a bit guilty. If I hadn’t drawn those pieces, this fandom would’ve never been revived, and all those people would have never gotten hurt.

It sucks.

It really does suck a lot.

I am so deeply sorry to those who have been hurt. You did not deserve this.

[martianbugsbunny]

We Are Mandalorians: Our Love Must Be Forged (An AxePaz Fic)—Chapter 3

Happy Revenge of the Fifth! This chapter is half softish, and half action. We’re about to get into the thick of the, uh, forging part of the fic, so enjoy this last moment of happiness before Axe and Paz have to seriously fear for their lives *bwahahaha*!

“We camp here for the night!” Bo-Katan called, as the skiff came to a stop. “Eat well, this will be our last hot meal for some time.”

Almost every person had ration bars secured to their armor. Some people had compartments on their belts specifically constructed for holding rations; some people had small pouches tied around their waists. They were a communal resource, of course, but it was a good idea for each individual to have enough to get by in case of being separated from the group for a while.

But they had also brought a small crate of meat and vegetables that had been stewing in a carefully-tended pot on the skiff deck almost since they boarded. Much better food than ration bars, which were nutritious but dry and fairly tasteless, any day.

Axe stared with interest as the Children of the Watch lined up for their share and then one by one left the skiff and found places to eat shielded by chunks of rock or large, displaced fragments of the planet’s crystalline surface. Paz was one of the last to get his stew, and he borrowed a scarf from one of the older Mandalorians before leaving the skiff. He didn’t venture out as far, probably because the secluded spots were more or less already taken; instead, he draped the cloth over his head before removing his helmet, his back to the skiff, the scarf pulled low over his face. It would take a lot of effort for a Mandalorian returning from further out to see his face, but Axe knew none of them would try.

It was an inventive solution, Axe could admit it. So not only was Paz a good father, a theoretical strategist, and a skilled fighter—he was also a problem solver.

Brilliant. He was the utter epitome of Mandalorian, regardless of sect—those were characteristics every one of them prized. Characteristics Axe himself had been dubious of ever finding all in the same man.

Why couldn’t the Nite Owls have been the ones to adopt Paz Vizsla into their ranks? He would be so much less irritating if they followed the same rules. (Truth be told, Axe was confident that if he and Paz had known each other in their youths, they would have been married for several years already.)

He studied his own helmet, sitting on the rail in front of him. How difficult was it really to wear a helmet day in and day out?…other than having to eat alone with a scarf over your face?

——

“We’re pinned down. We need backup!”

Somehow, Paz’s voice was hardly raised, even in the middle of battle. Axe didn’t notice if anyone else heard him, and he didn’t care, either. He heard. Despite the shouting and the lasers and the metal hitting the cave floor, Axe’s ears were capable of picking up Paz’s voice. “I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements,” he suggested. Paz turned towards him, shooting over his shoulder to bring down an Imperial.

It didn’t matter how the Imperials had amassed on Mandalore. All that mattered was surviving the fight and getting back, all of them, getting back to the fleet alive.

“No. It’s too far.” Paz moved closer to Axe; not as close as they had stood when fighting each other, but close enough to make Axe feel ill at the idea of losing him to an Imperial blaster shot.

“I can make it. It’s our only shot,” Axe said, reaching out to grip Paz’s forearm. “There’s a split in the ceiling there.” He tilted his head upwards, towards the fissure of light at the top of the cavern. “Paz Vizsla, I swear to you on my life I will come back for you.”

“I know,” Paz said, returning Axe’s small embrace. “I trust you.” He inhaled deeply, then pulled away and steadied his laser cannon. “I’ll lay down cover fire.”

Axe didn’t have time to say thank you or see you later before Paz began firing. He started his jetpack and before he could look back, he was out of the cave.

He shot up further into the atmosphere, the storms battering his armor and pushing him bodily, until he was out of communications range of the others. In another minute, he broke out above the clouds, in the highest zone he could reach without risk of dying.

The fleet should’ve been there, but it wasn’t.

[romanxdrake]

  sleepness nights and sleepless days, pill bottles hidden in the glove box, skin marred with scars both old and new, deafening silence, crossing the yellow crime scene tape, another pot of coffee for another long night, the fallen son, missing persons fliers, a dog without a muzzle that bites and bites and bites.

❝ I'm not a hero. I don't do good, it's not in me. ❞

supply list: rope, duct tape and zip ties, pain pills and benzos, a few guns that definitely aren't in his name. the guy travels light and packs like a serial killer i don't know what to tell you.

Gender & Pronouns: Cis Male & He/Him Sexuality: Questioning Birthplace: Las Vegas Room #: Apt. 303 Years at the Wexley: 0

roman was raised in the city of sin by a family that seemed to take the name a little too literally: drugs. jail. gangs. violence. there wasn’t much in the criminal underground that the drakes didn’t have their fingers in. the second youngest of six kids, roman was expected to do his part in the family business just as those before him had–but even as a kid roman had his doubts about the lifestyle; growing disoriented as family members came and went to county, their criminal records growing longer every year. he was twenty-three when he finally had enough of the bullshit. roman had known for a long time that his family weren’t good people, it just never occurred to him that he had the option to break the pattern.

becoming a cop hadn’t been his first idea, but at the time it was the biggest fuck you he could think of to send to his family. roman became more or less dead to the drakes, ex-communicated the moment he stepped foot into the police academy. he tried a few awkward attempts at reaching out to his sisters, but he never really knew birdie and mauve was busy trying to make a life of her own. eventually he took a page from mauve’s book, moving to california and starting a life of his own. marriage was hard, and having a kid on the way only made things harder. he took his job at cold cases seriously and made the wrong priorities in life; there are only so many long nights you can spend alone before you go looking for someone to fill the space left by an absent spouse. roman and delilah had been on the verge of ending things for a while, but the events that happened the night june was born ensured their relationship was over.

roman doesn’t remember the night in its entirety–only coming home to see his wife and a stranger in the midst of an argument, then flashes of a golf club swinging at him. when roman awoke in the hospital several days later he was terrified to learn just how much he’d lost in the attack: his marriage, his hearing, and quite possibly his daughter, who was now fighting for her life in the icu after being born months too early. the official report was attempted murder-suicide, a jealous lover who wanted to kill the woman who’d ended their affair. roman was devastated, knowing that he’d drove delilah away from him and nearly put her and their daughter into an early grave. they'd tried counseling. couples, individual, ptsd. fucking art therapy for a month--because he owed her that much. in the end they agreed there was no way to put the pieces of what they had back together. delilah would take june and go live with her parents, but roman could have shared custody if he promised not to get her hopes up of having a father in her life then ghosting. roman quit the force, went private. went dark. hurt people who hurt people, that kind of thing. he developed a reputation as someone willing to work outside the lines of the law and birdie was able to put him in contact with people who needed that kind of help.

he was in new york to meet with birdie and follow up on a new job when the city went into lockdown. he's taken up in an apartment on the lowest floor to keep an eye on things near the lobby, because he has a real bad feeling about how things are heading in the city.

Previous zombie experience: N/A

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)

You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)

"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"

"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."

"I'll talk to that fu-"

"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.

Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."

He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.

"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"

Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."

"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."

Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.

Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.

"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.

(Read more below the cut)

Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."

-------------

Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.

They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.

Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.

Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.

He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.

After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.

He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.

With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.

While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.

Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.

"Made dinner," he said casually.

Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."

"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.

"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.

"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."

Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."

He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."

"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."

His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."

"Sorry?"

He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.

Harry blinked, "That's amazing."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."

"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"

"Is that what earlier was about?"

Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"

"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"

"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.

"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.

Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked.

"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"

"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."

"I-"

"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"

He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."

"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."

Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."

Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.

"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."

He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."

"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."

"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"

Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."

Harry frowned.

"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."

"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."

"Be that as it may-"

"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."

Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."

Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."

A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.

"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.

The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.

-----------------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[devildomdisaster]

Hi can I ask for the reaction of the demon brothers to the mc who always behaves fearlessly, but is afraid of a sharp clap and hides behind them?

Hi anon, this is my first ask for this blog so I hope it's what you wanted.

I got a bit carried away with this one so it ended up a bit long.

Normally fearless mc who hides behind the brothers after a loud noise

Lucifer:

Initially, Lucifer thinks that a human who has little to no magic ability (at least at first) is going to be helpless and frightened of almost everything. This is the Devildom after all, and demons would love to eat a sweet human soul.

But you routinely stand up not only to his brothers but to him.

Honestly, he finds it frustrating.

With no way to intimidate you Lucifer’s normal tactics to ensure proper behavior are rendered useless.

Not only that but you encourage his brothers to act up as well.

But your fearlessness has also endeared you to him.

Even more pride than normal radiates off him when he sees you put some lower-level demon or his brothers in their place. Even if he has to step in sometimes.

Lucifer discovers your fear as you walk into Ristorante Six and a waiter drops a tray of drinks behind you as you are being shown to your table

The tray hits the ground with a loud clatter

Lucifer turns at the noise but otherwise thinks little of the situation

You however are immediately hidden behind him, hands fisted tightly around handfuls of the back of his coat

He is surprised but quickly schools his expression into one of concern.

His first thought is if you are alright, did something on the tray somehow hit you?

He turns to you, taking your clenched fists into his hands.

For all intents and purposes you seem physically fine just…scared. Truly frightened.

Later when you have calmed down he might ask you about your reaction. But for now he will simply comfort you.

He pulls you into his arms whispering lowly into your ear, “there is nothing that can hurt you while I am here Mc. It’s alright.”

Once your breathing has slowed he’ll ask if you’d like to leave and go back to the house of lamentation.

If you were just startled he’ll spend the evening as planned, although he is far more aware of the movement of the surrounding demons. And any possible loud noises that could startle you again.

If you do want to go home he will gladly take you, he’ll propose a quieter evening, relaxing in his study listening to his records perhaps?

Mammon:

Oh, his fearless human!

He is oh so impressed at your bravery.

It’s almost reckless at times how little fear you seem to have in the face of demons.

This boy loves to watch you stand up to other demons or handle situations that others would consider frightening (especially for humans).

Your fearlessness makes you the perfect partner in crime for his schemes.

He loves the rush of getting away with his schemes and loves having you there to share that rush with even more.

Of course, when you do participate in his less than honest scheming, or even his honest ones, he is always there to protect you.

Watching you be fearless is fun but if anything could actually hurt you he is always aware of it. Ready to step in front of you at any moment. You’re his human after all. It wouldn’t due to have something harm you when he can prevent it.

You’re not even outside the house of lamentation when a rather peeved Lucifer comes into the kitchen. “Mammon!” he thunders with a loud slap of his hands on the counter.

You jump behind Mammon, face pressed into his back

One of Mammon’s arms unconsciously reaches behind him to shield you even more.

He is shocked at your reaction but the instinct to protect you kicks in instantly.

“Lucifer” Mammon warns quietly with a quick glance towards you behind him “could we maybe do this later I think Mc…” He trails off

Once Lucifer is gone, seeming to have gotten the gist of the situation, Mammon turns to you. one hand stroking your head gently until you look at him.

“Hey, Mc you’re ok. What’s gotten into ya?”

“The noise” you mumble. Half embarrassed, half still trying to calm your racing heart.

“Geez Mc, ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout stuff like that when I’m around”

He doesn’t quite understand why a loud noise would scare you but is more than willing to listen if you want to explain.

Levi

Levi doesn’t get you.

How can some magicless normie human not be afraid in the Devildom? Surrounded by actual demons? Whatever it’s not like he gets normies anyway.

But then he gets to know you and he actually likes you. You’re his Henry now, his player 2 or… whichever you prefer Mc. Even admitting this to himself is sometimes so hard.

Your whole fearlessness thing still confuses him, but it’s impressive too.

He enjoys being able to play horror games with you or watch horror anime without you being terrified.

It’s like nothing phases you. You can face down anything the Devildom throws at you. Levi thinks you’re so cool, it’s almost not fair!

He kind of wonders what actually scares you

He finds out one night when Asmo throws the door to his room open so hard it bounces off the wall with a loud slam.

Asmo is crowing about family bonding night and repainting Levi’s nails “because gaming isn’t all that matters Leviathan, and you should have been in the living room half an hour ago!”

Levi groans at Asmo’s outburst. Then pauses, blinks slowly, and realizes you’re hidden behind him quaking in…in fear?

His demon form slips out quietly and he wraps his tail around your waist protectively.

He doesn’t understand why you’re frightened but he’s got you covered normie.

“Ohhh, I didn’t know you were playing that kind of game!” Asmo grins purposely misreading the situation. “You and Mc can come down when you’re done.” he sings, shutting the door behind him as he leaves.

Levi’s face is so red, he opens and closes his mouth several times before any words make it out.

“M-mc did did Asmo do something to you? or?” He’s trying to figure out what’s got you so scared.

But he’s still so flustered from Asmo’s teasing that he can’t turn to face you. Instead, he keeps his tail protectively and hopefully comfortingly around your waist.

“No” you sniff “the noise. When the door, it just”

“Oh, good. Not good-good! I mean good that Asmo didn’t do anything.”

You’re both silent for a long moment as Levi composes himself and turns around. Levi finally has time for his surprise to hit him. This is what you are afraid of? He never would have guessed. Still, he doesn’t think any less of you. How could he? Everyone’s got their things, their fears.

“Thanks, Levi,” You say, tapping his tail gratefully.

You get to watch the red bloom across his face this time.

Satan

You being fearless is intriguing and impressive.

He has read about all sorts of phobias and a part of him wants to expose you to some common ones just to see if any of them scare you.

But he won’t.

He likes you too much for that.

You aren’t afraid of pranking Lucifer with him.

Or of late-night library searches, or cursed books, or most importantly of him.

He expected you to be afraid of him, he is the avatar of wrath after all, and his anger can and has made him lose control.

But you're not the least bit afraid of him. He truly appreciates that.

While cooking dinner the loud clatter of a pot falling to the floor and splashing its contents to the ground makes him curse and then sigh, but it makes you jump behind him.

hm? Oh. Oh!

With one hand gripping his shoulder and the other clutching his shirt, it only takes a moment for him to recognize your fear.

He realizes pretty quickly that it must have been the loud noise.

There’s a part of him, the same part that had wanted to test you for hidden phobias, that is immensely satisfied with this new information about his favorite human. Excited even.

Satan feels that knowing there is something that scares you makes you more real.

He almost chuckles at your reaction.

Instead, he guides you to a seat and as he straightens lets his knuckles brush your cheek gently.

“Are you alright Mc?”

He waits until the shock and fear have worn off before cleaning up the mess on the floor.

He knew there had to be something that scared you, he just hopes this fear isn’t tied to any…unpleasant people or situations in your life. Just the thought of that erases all his satisfaction at discovering your fear.

If you’re still a bit rattled he’ll keep you distracted, while he finishes cooking, with tales of the Devildom and the new installment of his favorite mystery show or the new novel he’s reading that he thinks you might like.

If you have recovered he’ll gladly accept your help finishing dinner.

Asmo

Asmo loves your fearlessness.

He thinks it makes you even more attractive.

He says that other than your magical potential it was one of the things that led him to make a pact with you.

“Nothing seemed to phase you, I just had to know more!”

Drags/brings you shopping a lot partly just to watch you stare rude demons down.

Of course, he is always there just in case a demon doesn’t get the point, but he takes a kind of pleasure in seeing demons try and fail to intimidate you, before leaving in shock and shame at being unable to scare a mere human.

He doesn’t let you get into dangerous situations if he can help it. Being confident and fearless is all well and good Mc, but you are still a human and demons can be dangerous.

During one of your shopping trips, there is a loud clap of excitement from a demon when they find what they were looking for.

You gasp and duck behind Asmo.

He turns an amused smile on his face.

“Mc, how can you possibly help me look for my size when you…oh!

As he sees your face he understands. You’re afraid.

He is flattered that you chose to hide behind him for protection. He thinks it shows how much you truly trust him.

He takes your hand in his, even as his head tilts slightly trying to figure out what scared you.

It all clicks a moment later. The noise.

He grips your hand a bit tighter and guides you out of the store, away from the situation.

Asmo knows that your reaction could have just been from being startled but he also knows that it could be tied to a deeper fear of something or someone.

He hopes you were just startled but makes sure you know that he will always protect you from your fears. Minor or serious.

If you let him he will have a whole self-care spa day with you after you get back to the house of lamentation.

Beel

Beel is impressed by a fearless human.

Especially one with little to no magic when first coming to the Devildom.

But he is also concerned for you.

He worries you might do something reckless.

So he makes sure to be around in order to make sure you stay safe.

Will 100% eat a lesser demon who tries to harm you.

Beel wants you to be safe.

But he is glad that your fearless nature gives you the confidence to explore more of the Devildom than just RAD classes.

He is so happy when you want to go somewhere new with him, maybe to a restaurant or cafe you haven’t tried yet.

The first time you hide behind him is after the wind blows a chair over at a nearby table outside a cafe.

You are on your feet in an instant

And in the next, you are almost cowering behind him.

Beel is startled.

He doesn’t understand why you seem so afraid.

But he pulls you into his arms anyway.

Beel comes right out and asks you about your reaction.

When you explain that it was the loud noise Beel nods.

He wants to ask if you were just startled or if there is more to your fear but doesn’t want to overstep.

He’ll wait until you are headed back to the house to ask.

Whatever your answer is he’ll accept it and in the future act accordingly to prevent you from being afraid.

Belphie

Honestly hates how fearless you are at first.

It annoys him and he wants to make you afraid of him…until he doesn't.

And the complete 180 surprises even him.

He still wonders how a human can be so fearless and kind of wonders if it's all an act you use to protect yourself.

Even so, he’s still impressed that you can be fearless in the Devildom.

He’s another one who likes to see you tell other demons to get lost.

He thinks that a human chasing off a Demon in the realm of demons is hilarious.

On the way to RAD one morning what sounds like a loud clap causes Belphie to turn and see another demon being slapped.

He goes to make a snide comment to you, only you aren’t standing next to him anymore.

Instead, you are tucked behind him holding tightly to his uniform jacket.

“Um, Mc? What exactly are you doing?”

And that’s when it all comes out.

The noise had scared you so much you had hidden behind him.

Belphie just shrugs. It’s surprising sure, considering all the other things you’ve seen and experienced in the Devildom. But hey you are a human, something was bound to scare you eventually.

He’s curious if you are just easily startled or if you have a fear of sudden loud noises.

Unlike his brothers (*Satan) he is curious enough to test you and see which it is.

Unless you come out then and there to tell him you have a fear of loud noises he will plan out a ‘prank’ to startle you again.

If it turns out it’s not a fear caused by anything serious and you are just easily startled he will use it against you occasionally, at least until he is bored of your reaction or you ask him to stop.

But he doesn’t want to hurt you, emotionally or physically. If it’s a genuine fear he’d never use it against you. And he’d personally end anyone who did.

[fatlooover1]

Fattening Jim Halpert Part 1

This is my first go at gainer fiction. I’ve been thinking about a fat Jim Halpert from the US Office the past week and finding no gainer fiction out there, I decided to start writing. This will be part 1 with more to follow. 

Jim moved to the Stamford branch to get away from Pam as she seemed determined to marry Roy. He enjoyed his new surroundings and threw himself into building new client relationships. A lot of that revolved around entertaining them with lunches and dinners, which Jim didn’t mind. Coupled with the fact that he had started to eat his feelings to fill the void left by Pam, he had begun to fill out. Jim had always been thin and being tall had helped. However, the extra calorie intake daily from large meals and constant snacking throughout the day, inevitably led to his metabolism slowing down and his body softening up. The business meetings paid off and he quickly started making great sales, his commission going towards treats like a few extra donuts each morning or another pizza ordered in.

Jim didn’t really keep in touch with the Scranton team, he avoided talking with Michael as much as possible. However, he did regularly check in with Ryan as he had taken over Jim’s clients. Ryan had taken naturally to the promotion and with Jim’s advice was excelling in the sales game even overtaking Dwight as lead salesperson which Jim loved hearing about. Ryan would occasionally be in town in Stamford and would treat Jim to a meal or a beer as a thank you for his advice. This sparked something of a bromance which neither of them had ever really thought would happen. Ryan did notice Jim’s figure start to change and his waistline fill out. It was subtle to start with but after 3 months since Jim’s transfer, the comfort eating was clearly having an effect with Jim’s shirts and pants which had always been loose, look particularly tight. Ryan didn’t quite know what to make of his feelings towards it, he was strangely intrigued by Jim’s weight gain but didn’t bring it up in case it embarrassed Jim.

Probably nothing more would have happened if Josh Porter had not left Dunder Mifflin as Manager unexpectedly. David Wallace at Corporate wanted fresh blood and Ryan’s impressive sales record as well as new ideas for growth made him an obvious choice. Ryan couldn’t believe his luck; he was incredibly young to be a branch manager and he had progressed so quickly from being a temp in less than a year. Jim was delighted for his new buddy and didn’t mind the idea of working under Ryan despite him being technically senior in experience. The two friends celebrated the weekend before Ryan officially took up his new post with a large meal out with plenty of beers. Ryan was eager to treat Jim to anything he wanted as he felt he owed it to him and insisted ordering a lot of food, extra appetizers and large mains as well as additional desserts. Ryan of course didn’t eat nearly as much as Jim who after polishing off his second dessert looked fit to burst out of his work clothes. He took another swing of beer and belched loudly drawing Ryan’s attention to his belly. ‘Man I’m stuffed, I don’t think I’ve eaten so much’, he patted his stuffed gut, which by this stage was a definite pot belly ‘I should not have said yes to that second dessert you offered’.

‘Relax Jim, besides we’re celebrating, I owe you!’ Ryan waved away his complaints and paid for the bill. He persuaded Jim to go to another bar where they both drank a lot more. Several beers in they were both drunk and Jim started talking about Pam. ‘I don’t know if I’ll find someone like her again to be honest. I thought we had a special connection, guess I was wrong’, he mused and took anther swig of beer. ‘No way man, you’re definitely going to find someone. Look at you, you’re a catch. You’ve still got the looks. Someone else will come along when you least expect it'. Jim interrupted ‘I’m not sure anymore, I’ve started getting a bit chubby. I’ve kinda let myself go since moving to Stamford, not as slim as I used to be’. He patted his meaty middle for emphasis and Ryan could only stare. Jim’s belly was showing through the gaps between the buttons of his shirt. ‘No way you still look handsome to me anyway, the weight suits you.’ Ryan didn’t really know what he was saying at this point and pulled his eyes away and offered to get them shots. That put an end to the conversation and the alcohol began dumbing their minds.

They got up to leave messily an hour later and Jim dropped his wallet on the floor. Ignoring how painfully stuffed and swollen he was he bent down to get it. The button on his pants and one on his shirt gave way to unbearable weight pressed against them and flew off. Jim didn’t realise until he felt the cool night breeze against his exposed naval when they stepped outside. Ryan noticed at the same time and couldn’t help but stare open mouthed. Jim didn’t know what to say and muttered ‘Ugh sorry’ stupidly. Both men got awkward and said their goodbyes quickly.

Jim slept heavily and woke up late the next morning. He groggily realized he was still wearing the shirt from last night but had managed to take off the ruined pants. He stumbled to the bathroom and began unbuttoning the shirt in the mirror. As he revealed more of his torse, he began examining his body and realizing just how much he had filled out. He was covered in a layer of soft flab everywhere. Even with the beer bloat from last night, his belly was full and round. His chest had softened, and it looked like a pair of moobs were forming. He turned and could see in the double mirror that he was getting love handles and his ass was looking very round and perky. He needed to cut back on his eating and do some exercise. He wasn’t convinced by what Ryan had said, he needed to not let himself go anymore.

Ryan couldn’t stop thinking about Jim’s weight gain all weekend. He knew only one thing, as his boss he was determined to make Jim fatter.

Monday was Ryan’s first day in the new office and he arrived with several boxes of donuts to give to his new team, but mostly Jim. Jim arrived wearing a new bigger suit which he had bought over the weekend to replace the one he’d outgrown; he had needed one 2 sizes up from the old one. He also brought his gym bag to go after work. He needed to stay the course and not get lazy and slip into bad habits again. He had had a small breakfast before coming to work which was fine until mid-morning when his stomach started growling. ‘Hey Jim, good to see you man, did you get one of the donuts I brought in?’ almost on que Ryan came out of his office and clapped Jim on the back. ‘Ugh no I didn’t, I’m trying to be good’ Jim said not very convincingly. Ryan insisted on bringing at least one to his desk ‘c’mon buddy, live a little. It’s only my first day as your new boss once’. Jim did eat it; the sugary goodness was delicious after eating so little all morning. Later in the kitchen when he was getting a cup of coffee and no one else was around he snuck another three. He would work them off at the gym, he told himself. However, his plans to eat light the rest of the day didn’t work out so well as Ryan bought everyone lunch from the local pasta place. He tried not to, but he couldn’t say no, helping himself to a large portion of lasagna and garlic bread.

The afternoon went quickly and at 5pm Jim got up to leave. ‘Hey Jim, give me a hand with these, will you take these donuts home with you, there’s too many leftover’ Ryan pushed a box of a dozen in front of him as he approached the door. ‘Sure thing yeah’ Jim cursed himself when he got outside, what was wrong with him. How could he not say no to Ryan. There was something in the way he looked at him, his eyes pleading.

Jim did manage to get to the gym and do some exercise afterwork. He had bought new gym clothes too, knowing without trying on his old ones, that they would be too small as well. He did some cardio on the treadmill, but it was a lot harder than he remembered and then did work with some weights. Man he was unfit but he needed to keep at it. He got to his car tired and more than a little sweaty, the box of donuts in the front seat tempting him. No, I won’t eat them. I’ll throw them out when I get in, he thought to himself. He ate a small weight loss meal and watched some TV when he got home. His stomach gurgled an hour later. He tried to ignore it but then his mind went to the donuts, he hadn’t thrown them out. He gave in and retrieved them from the car. He was already munching on one as he headed back to his apartment and sat down happily on the couch. He ate one after the other, unable to stop himself from greedily scoffing them down. Before he knew it, they were all gone. He reprimanded himself for letting his willpower slip for a moment, he let his greedy nature get the better of him. It would have to stop. He sat back and rubbed his full belly, telling himself he would be better tomorrow.

The first month of Ryan’s time as manager went by quickly. Ryan would usually grab lunch with Jim; one or two other colleagues might join them, but it was mostly the two friends. Jim found himself eating more than he intended too around Ryan, his light lunch forgotten about as the pair joked and caught up on work business. Also, Ryan had a habit of leaving snacks around the office for Jim and there were nearly always donuts in the kitchen in the mornings. As a result, and with Jim’s lack lustre attempts at going to the gym not going very well, he wasn’t losing any weight at all. In fact, his clothes seemed to be getting even tighter. It didn’t help that Pam and Roy were getting married this weekend and he didn’t exactly feel like cutting back and giving into his cravings. Ryan was headed back to Scranton Friday evening to the wedding and said he’d see Jim on Monday ‘Bet you it will be crap, man. I don’t want to go. How am I going to avoid Kelly?’ Jim chuckled good naturedly but when he got in his car all he wanted to do was eat. So he drove himself to the nearest drive thru and ordered an excessive amount of food for himself. To say he gorged himself all weekend as a distraction from the wedding was an understatement. He didn’t hold back, ordering in whatever he wanted. Something in the back of his mind told him he would regret it, but he just kept eating.

He knew he had overdone it when he looked at himself in bathroom mirror on before work Monday morning. His body looked even softer and flabbier than it had a month before after Ryan’s promotion. Everything had a heft and jiggle to it now. He couldn’t deny that he now looked like the office chub. He thought back to that night when he had bust his buttons and remembered Ryan telling him he looked good still. He thought about how Ryan tended to make sure he ate well, always encouraging to eat more. Was Ryan into this he thought as he put his hands on either side of his gut and shook his doughy belly? Maybe he was enabling him deliberately. The thought was an intriguing one and made Jim’s head spin a bit excitedly. His cock also twitched which he couldn’t quite figure out. He was running late and he packed himself into his suit which by now was not filling so well despite being bought only a month ago. He would skip the gym this week.

[doctorstethoscope]

Flour (Requested) 18+ || A. Hotchner x Fem Reader

 Submit a request here!

request:  You’re home cooking dinner waiting for aaron to come home (jack is at a friends house for the night) the table is set dinner is almost done when he comes into the apartment and sees you all sweaty from cooking (my home doesn’t have central air so cooking anything means sweating 100%) hes just so relieved, happy, stressfree because you know you’re there and THEN OUT OF NOWHERW he can’t keep his hands off of you 

Thank you for the request @qtip-blog! I hope you love this! 

contains: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, MINORS DNI.  Oral sex (f receiving), food mention

wordcount: 1k

It’s hot-- too hot, really, to be doing anything other than sitting directly in front of a fan blowing at you on full power. But Aaron had called you this afternoon from the jet, let you know that he was on his way home, and you could tell from his tone that the case had been bad. 

“I should be home around seven,’ He’d told you, his voice unusually gravelly, like he’d been crying. Your heart wrenched at the thought. “How are you? How is Jack?” 

“We’re good, honey. I’m at home, Jack is staying at Paul’s place tonight. Do you want me to pick him up early?” You’d asked. You know that when your sweet man comes home from a rough case, sometimes the only way to soothe him is to make sure that his family is all within arm’s reach-- so he knows they’re safe, that they haven’t encountered the evils that he is so intimate with. 

“No, no, let him have his night with his friends.” Aaron assured you. “Paul’s got a pool, anyways. It’s too hot for him to sit around the house.” 

“Okay, I’ll be here when you get home. I love you, and I’ll see you soon.” You assured him in return. 

“Love you,” he said before hanging up the phone.

Which is how you’d ended up at the grocery store, and then back at your apartment, preheating the oven as you started to make one of Aaron’s favorite comfort meals, chicken pot pie. 

You made this every year, on Aaron’s birthday in November, when the weather was far more favorable for something this labor-intensive. A quick glance at the clock tells you that you need to move quickly if you want to feed your husband at any reasonable hour. You chop up the vegetables, set them to saute with the chicken and broth while you dust the countertop with flour and start to roll out the dough you’d made for your pie crust. You’re setting the edges with the prongs of a fork when you hear Aaron’s key in the door-- you smile. 

“Hon?” he calls out into the apartment when he doesn’t find you on the couch. 

“In here!” You call back, opening the oven and bending over to put the pie in when he appears in the kitchen. 

“What’s all this?” He asks, seeing the detritus around the kitchen. He’s not unhappy, just surprised. 

“Just dinner,” you say offhandedly, not wanting to make a big deal of the gesture-- you were happy to do it for him. 

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he tells you. “I could have picked up takeout.” 

“I wanted you to come back to something homemade,” you tell him simply. 

Suddenly recognizing that he’s neglected a husbandly duty, Aaron puts his briefcase down and crosses the kitchen to kiss you. 

“Welcome home,” you smiled in between kisses. You move to separate from him, but Aaron has other plans, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back into his chest, and you laugh. “I’m sweaty and gross,” you warn as he leans down to kiss your neck. 

“Perfect,” he mutters against your skin. “You’re perfect.”

This is another symptom that Aaron displays if a case has gone awry-- he needs to be close to you, as close as possible, and you know that this is his way of asking. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face down to your chest. 

“Missed you,”  you tell him as he kisses every bit of skin that your tank top has left exposed. His hands are already fingering the hem of it, pushing it up your stomach to expose more area for his lips. You run a hand through his hair as your head falls back.

With your eyes shut, it’s impossible to anticipate that Aaron would have lifted you up by the thighs and placed you on the counter. 

“There’s flour everywhere,” you warn him. “You’ll ruin your suit.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls against the shell of your ear, and the sound of it shoots straight to your core. “Need you.” 

“Take me,” you whisper back. “Yours. Take me.” 

He needs no further encouragement, moving to pull your flimsy pajama shorts down your legs, so slowly you think he might be making a meal of it. He kisses every inch of flesh as he exposes it, so tantalizingly slow and warm that you’re practically bucking your hips before your panties even hit the floor. When Aaron finally makes his way to the apex of your thighs, you’re glistening with your own slick, bare before him and whining out impatiently. When he presses a chaste kiss to your clit, you nearly jump off the counter, but he holds your hips in place.

He laps at you in earnest, drinking from you as you pull his hair harshly by the root. You feel the flour from the countertop sticking to the small of your back, can see the white powder staining the cuffs of Aaron’s shirt, but you’re too awash in pleasure to care. He’s gentle with you, but that doesn’t mean the feeling of his mouth moving against you, of his nose against your clit, of his tongue between your folds, is any less intoxicating. Your orgasm surprises you--- the buildup had been such a temperate crescendo that you hadn’t had time to prepare yourself, and you cry out, moaning Aaron’s name as he guides you through your peak, then continuing to lap at you afterwards to clean up your mess. 

Once you’ve regained sensation in your legs, you hop off the counter, noting the severe tent in Aaron’s pants. “Need some help there?” 

“Yes,” he nods, his eyes begging for you as his lips pout. “But maybe in the shower? We’re sweaty and covered in flour.” 

You throw your head back in a laugh. “I warned you!” You reminded him, dragging him gleefully towards the bathroom.

tagging: : @bauhousewife @just-a-fangirl-xd @angelic-kisses13 @sleepyreaderreads @ssamorganhotchner @wolviesbbeslrblg @xyzhoneybee@choppa-style @wanniiieeee @zheezs14@ssavanessa22 @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @ssahotchie @infinite-tides@itsmytimetoodream @hotforhotchner11 @hotchinkevlar @scuttling @itsmytimetoodream

[mcyt-imagines]

I loved your "dating tommy includes" hcs! Could you do a dating ranboo includes hcs please? 💓💓

This request was super fun I got a little carried away with it though! Hope you enjoy regardless :)

Ranboo Dating HCs

This boy is an absolute cuddle bug! (Once you guys have dated for a little while first, of course, he needs a little bit of time to feel comfortable enough) But once he’s decided he’s comfy enough around you, you won’t be able to pry this lanky boy off of you. However, every once in a while, he’ll distance himself a little, as if he’s worrying he’s being too clingy. But with some convincing and reassurance from you, he’ll be back to begging for cuddles in no time.

He adores both being the big spoon and the little spoon. The idea of you feeling safe in his arms when he’s the big spoon always makes him feel strong and confident. But feeling so content and relaxed in your arms when he’s the little spoon is something he loves just as much.

This boy isn’t great at remembering dates. So whenever your anniversaries come around, if you don’t remind him, he will forget. So his usual methodically planned out dates are cast aside when he’s on a time crunch, he instead finds himself on BuzzFeed's Top 10 Romantic Destinations In Every City’ or some other dodgy/trashy teen website. They’re still fun because you’ll be with Ranboo, and the spontaneity of them is a welcome breath of fresh air for you, Ranboo not as much, but you do your best to reassure him and curb any of his fears.

Ranboo is the kind of boyfriend who has you at the forefront of his mind, most of the time. This leads to him bringing home countless little trinkets or articles of clothing that reminded him of you. It’s never for any special occasion, he just thought you would like it and so he wanted to give it to you. He will also gift you any sketches he draws that he actually ends up liking, that’s usually only like a fifth of them but he will always cherish your compliments and critique. Mainly because he actually cares about what you think, and knows you’d be honest with him if his drawings were as bad as he sometimes thinks they are.

If you and Ranboo ever fight while you’re together, which seeing as how non-confrontational he is, I can’t see it happening very often if at all. But if you do, he is likely to apologise first, and very shortly after the initial argument. It’s not that he’s a pushover and can’t stand up or himself, he just doesn’t see the point in arguing about something stupid or unimportant, so he’ll encourage you to hash it out with him quickly and with little fanfare. However, if the argument is over something important like morals, he will use his apology to try and reach a middle ground with you. By letting some time pass since the initial argument, he knows both of your minds are clearer and less clouded by emotion, allowing for the two of you to come to a peaceful agreement or disagreement.

Ranboo likes to have you in his stream room whenever he is streaming. If you’re busy with something else he won’t stop you and drag you into his stream room, but you do notice his demeanour change when you’re there or not during streams. He is always quite upbeat but the cute way he looks back at you every few minutes always guarantees a blush to rise to your cheeks. His happy grin contagious even as he looks away and back to chat. You usually will make Ranboo something to eat whilst he’s streaming, especially for lore streams as they’re usually longer. He has accidentally announced it to chat several times having meant to mute himself before speaking, he always gasps too. “You made me lunch! Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. How about I make dinner tonight for you, huh?” His chat will race by as you press a kiss to his cheek, and he takes the plate from you. “Guys my partner made me luuuuuuunch. I bet you guys are all super jealous.” He smirks, the chat hears your soft laughter in the background as you return to the comfy spot you had been occupying before you left to grab Ranboo some food, munching on something you’d grabbed for yourself.

Ranboo always insists that you do chores together, even if it isn’t the same chore. You can see him vacuuming from across the house as you’re emptying the trash. And of course, loud music is playing during this, chores must be done whilst jamming out. Ranboo is a strong believer in that philosophy.

Ranboo also tries to get hands-on in the kitchen whenever he can. He cooks most of the meals simply because he can be a bit of a picky eater, and thus you both decided it would be easier if Ranboo cooked more often. But there are days where you must cook and you try your best to make the meal as inoffensive as possible for Ranboo, he knows it’s a pain and always thanks you profusely for it. He’ll usually hover whilst you’re in the kitchen asking if he can help dice the carrots, mash the potatoes or stir the bubbling pot of pasta and you usually end up having to dance around the gentle giant as he fumbles his gangly self around your very small kitchen. This has led to some small accidents in which both of your outfits have gotten completely ruined, but you’ve never held it against him no matter how much he blames himself for it. The first time an accident like that happened Ranboo baked cupcakes for you the next morning as an apology and almost burnt down the place because he was so lost in his sulky and broody thoughts, he didn’t hear the oven timer go off.

Ranboo isn’t the kind of boyfriend to get jealous or possessive. This isn’t because he doesn’t care, it’s simply because he trusts you. He has no reason to worry, even though he does, but he refuses to let that interfere with you having some fun with your friends. However, if some person is making unsolicited advances towards you, and you’re looking and obviously feeling very uncomfortable he will not hesitate to step in. This boy may not be confrontational, but he knows when he needs to step up to defend someone, he knows you can defend yourself, but if he can stand in between you and that person he is more than willing to.

At parties together Ranboo sticks to you like glue, he’s not a huge fan of the combination of loud music, flashing lights and crowded people. You know this, and so you keep to the outskirts determined to keep your boyfriend feeling content and make sure he enjoys himself a little too. You don’t go to parties often with Ranboo simply because he doesn’t adore them, but if it’s an important event for you or himself he will begrudgingly go. However, he never dares to complain only pleading with his eyes to leave after a few hours. And usually, by that point, you’ve shown yourself around to the host and whoever you needed to see, so you usually just slip out the entrance with little fanfare. Eager to get home and into your pyjamas for a late-night movie, some cuddles and then passing out on the couch.

Ranboo talks in his sleep. Mostly gibberish, but sometimes he will string a couple of sentences together. They’re usually questions directed at you or part of conversations you’ve already had with Ranboo the previous day. They rarely wake you up, his voice being quite soft, barely mumbling. However, every once in a while, you will humour him, and yourself in the process. Continuing a full conversation with him whilst he sleeps, and sometimes you directly impact his dreams. One night you mentioned cinnamon to him as he slept and the next morning, he said he had been craving Cinnabon’s in his dream, and now that he was awake, he wanted one 100x more. Thus, the two of you made some that afternoon to cull his craving. You made a mental note to keep your effect on his dreams a little secret to yourself.

Ranboo can have difficulty conveying his emotions to you the way he wants to, struggling to find the right words. But when he does, he screams them from the rooftop. Once he confesses to loving you, you hear it often. Whether it’s just a ‘goodbye love you’ on the phone or a heartfelt ‘I love you’ as he holds your face in his hands as you lie awake late at night in each other’s arms. This also is the case with compliments. This boy showers you with compliments, if you’re insecure about a certain part of your body you best bet, he will be putting plenty of focus into making you love that part of yourself just as much as he does. Which is a lot. In turn, it leads to him simply talking about you a lot, you’re on his mind almost 24/7 and he makes sure everyone in his life knows it. Seeing as his family and friends adore you, they don’t mind it too much. This boy adores you with his whole heart and he wants to make sure every single person he ever runs into, knows it. No matter how long you’ve been together, that will never change.

~Requests are always open!~

[azucanela]

Hi! i’d like to request a Zuko x Reader oneshot please and it takes place a few years after he’s crowned as the Fire Lord: Zuko is entering suitable age for marriage and yet he has no one that he likes enough to take as his queen, what if Uncle Iroh hired the reader whom is a famous matchmaker that usually arranges the courting & marriage between nobles, but instead of all these ladies that she threw at him he ended up falling for her instead but he’s just so awkward and inexperienced Thank u

INAMORATA | ZUKO X READER

SUMMARY: after a few years of being Fire Lord, Zuko still hasn’t found a companion. so naturally, when Iroh comes upon a matchmaker, he does what he does best and helps Zuko out by hiring her to help him find someone. and inadvertently... iroh ends up playing matchmaker himself. 

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, death threats, kissing, pining, very mild innuendos, blood, injuries, crying

A/N: this is literally art omg i feel kinda honored to be seeing this ngl and i ended up researching matchmaking and they’re basically therapists that help you find love?? kinda. the profile thing is something that some matchmakers do and idk i have fun analyzing zuko so

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

ATTEMPT ZERO

After years of being the Fire Lord, Zuko had come to realize the job was pretty basic if you thought about it long enough. There were just a few major things to deal with. First, there’s the internal relations, like the civil wars and uprising he deal with at the start of his reign because people disliked his ways. Then there’s the external relations, Zuko worked alongside Aang to repair those, helping the Southern Water Tribe rebuild itself from the ground up, and hosting meetings between the nations, friendly and work related. Those are the more diplomatic aspects of the job, and sadly, even as a ruler who sought to end a war, there was still violence in the world. 

When Aang and the rest of Team Avatar ended the One Hundred Year War, that only exposed a variety of other problems within the world, problems that the team seeked to end. There were people out there who disliked this line of thinking, and similarly wanted it to end, but ending the lives of Team Avatar.

Zuko was used to the death threats, and the assassination attempts. He’d had a security detail in place to ensure he lived to rule his nation, this was especially necessary since he lacked an heir and the only other people eligible for the throne were an old man who ran a tea shop and a psychopathic teenage girl in a mental institution. This is where the social aspect of the job came in, the part that Zuko had never been good at. The Galas and the girls who threw themselves at him, the nobility of all nations that approached him offering their children’s hand in marriage. Zuko was an enigma, a young and powerful bachelor, and now all the nobles with children were lining up for a minute alone with him to try and sell their own kids.

It disgusted him. The way they treated their children like cattle reminded Zuko of his own father, how willing he was to get rid of Zuko since he had a replacement on standby. Though, Zuko sincerely doubted he ever would’ve gotten the throne if Ozai had a choice, even if he hadn’t been banished. 

Alas, even Zuko could recognize the urgency of it, the death threats weren’t letting up, and the assassination attempts were only getting more and more elaborate, leaving Zuko wondering when they’d no longer be attempts. He needed and heir, or at least a wife who could rule alongside him and take over entirely in the event of his death.

The problem was, he didn’t want this.

He was in a unique position, where the person he married would have an immense effect on society, on politics. If it was an Earth Kingdom girl, then maybe the years of violence against their people could be mended sooner, and they could begin working together to combat a variety of issues. If he ends up with a Fire Nation girl, it could be viewed as strengthening the traditional ideals of Fire Nation independence and sovereignty because the Fire Nation is “supreme.”

Dating was political now and he hated it. It wasn’t like Zuko wanted to be alone, it’s just that now everything mattered far more than it used to. Of course, even as a prince it had been the same, but now that he was the Fire Lord, things seemed to be ten times worse. Perhaps it was excessive but Zuko couldn’t help but feel paranoid whenever a new person entered his life, he couldn’t help but assume that they were just using him for some other agenda.

Of course, his friends had tried to assure him this wasn’t always the case, and they’d even made attempts to set him up with girls. All of which had failed. Zuko knew he wasn’t an easy person, much less an easy person to date. As Fire Lord, a lot of his time was taken up by meetings, and diplomatic missions, and not-so-diplomatic missions alongside Team Avatar. That and he was rather awkward when it came down to most social interactions, though he’d improved over time, especially as the ruler of a nation, his speeches were elegant and so was the way he negotiated with other kingdoms. 

And yet he struggled to talk to strangers.

Iroh seemed to be tired of this as well, he’d sent Zuko several letters in regards to his lack of romance, insisting that he was a “handsome young man” that had “lots of potential” and he was “wasting” his prime with so much work. Zuko didn’t consider managing a country as a waste, though he understood where Iroh was coming from, Zuko probably should’ve been spending time with friends, going to clubs. Not saving the world.

Regardless, there wasn’t much he could do about, he didn’t have time for dating, and Zuko wasn’t willing to compromise his morals and beliefs just for an heir in the event that he got brutally murdered. He refused to raise a child just for that purpose. He learnt the hard way that you should only have kids if you intend to cherish them. And the idea of marrying someone just to strengthen his nation felt wrong, though he could see the benefits.

God, he hated being Fire Lord sometimes.

On the other hand, Y/N L/N liked her job. Amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom, she was a rather famous woman, Y/N had brought together some of the most powerful couples in the country. A lot of people owed her favors, and the money that came with the job was more than satisfactory. If Y/N had to guess, she was one of the richest people in the kingdom, considering how much people were willing to pay to fine “the one.” Her business had been rather successful since she’d gotten renowned in the inner ring of the city, and now, Y/N was considering expansion, to the Fire Nation. The borders had long since reopened, when the new Fire Lord came into power.

A whole new set of nobles for her to profit from. 

She’d decided to head to a high end tea shop in celebration of her choice to expand her business. Y/N had heard it was only for the best, since the tea shop served the best. One of her clients had insisted that someone of her esteem try the tea there, given that she was the best in her own profession.

So, here she was. It was a nice place, she wouldn’t deny, and Y/N had heard of the shop before. The Jasmine Dragon, run by some old guy who’d appeared in Ba Sing Se just before the war ended with some major talent when it came to brewing tea. The interior was fancy, but not excessive, several people were already seated within. Y/N even recognized one of the couples there, who waved at her enthusiastically, “hello! Lady L/N, how lovely to see you!” One of them called out.

Y/N smiled at them, “how are you two?”

The other beamed at her as she responded, “oh we’re just lovely! Preparing our wedding invitations and one of them has your name on it.” This wasn’t abnormal, most of the couples she’d brought together attributed their love to her. In actuality, Y/N found that if you found two people with compatible personalities, then they’d work things out on their own. All she did was introduce them. 

“I’m excited!” Y/N assured, moving past their table, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to try this famous tea. But, I’m looking forward to the invite.” 

The pair nodded, before returning their attention the friends seated across from them, and Y/N made her way to the front of the shop, bag of coins in hand. An older man stood behind the counter, a smile on his face as he brought his attention to her, “what can I get you today Miss...”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” She replied, small smile on her face as she looked at the menu, “what’s your name?” Y/N asked, meeting his eyes to see the flicker of recognition within them before returning her gaze to the menu.

He nods slowly, “I’m Iroh, and you’re a matchmaker, no?” He’d recognized the name, her business had begun gaining traction amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom shortly after the war, and she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the nation. Iroh himself had looked into her business, seeing as his nephew was yet to find love in his chaotic lifetstyle. 

Y/N smiled at him as she nodded, “indeed.” She placed the menu down, “any suggestions?”

“Perhaps, Jasmine tea?” He suggested.

Y/N nodded, “sounds good.” She places extends a hand with coins, dropping them into his palm, “so are you looking for love?” Though she was certainly famous for her skills, Y/N tended to work behind the scenes, and she was surprised to find this man recognized her.

A small laughed escaped him at her words as he shook his head, “no. I believe it is a little too late for that.” He was working on her tea beyond the counter, and Y/N began to wonder how he was steaming the tea pot when she noticed there was no stove beside him.

“Don’t say that! You seem like a fine man that anyone woman would want.” Y/N assured, though she now wondered why exactly this man knew who she was in the first place. It was rare for those outside of nobility to know who she was.

Turning around, his hand pressed to the pot that Y/N was positive had to have been burning his hand in some way, “oh, you’re too kind.” He replies, a small smile on his face as he poured a bit into a cup, “I was looking to help my nephew find love actually.” 

“Really, now?” Firebending, that was the only explanation for the way this man was handling the tea. “I was looking to expand my business to the Fire Nation, perhaps I could help him out.” He didn’t hold himself the way most Earth Kingdom citizens did, and coupled with the possible Firebending, he was likely from the Fire Nation.

Iroh raises a brow at this, “what gave me away?” He stirs the tea a few times, before placing it on the counter for her to take. 

Y/N shrugs, “it’s my job to know people well enough that I can find them a match.” Taking a sip of her tea, she smiles, “so this nephew of yours. He wouldn’t happen to nobility, would he?”

He laughs at this, pouring himself a cup of tea as well as he sighs, “actually, he is nobility. In a way.”

Now Y/N did not expect the nobility Iroh spoke of the be the nobility. As in the Fire Lord, the actual ruler of the entire nation, though this would certainly be great for business. Once the world hears of how Y/N found the Fire Lord, someone who had been notably difficult to woo apparently, a match, her business will be set. 

“Isn’t this exciting, guys?” Y/N exclaimed, looking to her assistants, they were both on the younger side, Marcella and Evelyn. She’d brought them along since this would definitely be a valuable learning experience, and Y/N figured she’d need a lot of help if the Fire Lord was as difficult as they made him out to be. That and Y/N didn’t want to leave them alone in the Earth Kingdom, both of them had been orphaned at a young age. Y/N couldn’t help but relate to them, so when she’d come upon her newfound wealth, brought about by her job as a matchmaker, she’d taken the pair under her wing. 

With a bag thrown over her shoulder, Evelyn simply nodded while Marcella exclaimed, “yes! I’ve always wanted to see the Fire Nation. Do you think we could find a client in one of the Water Tribes next?” 

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the young girl’s excitement, “if this goes well? We’ll be able to find clients anywhere.” She wasn’t wrong, Y/N had never had the opportunity to work with the actual Earth King, the true ruler of the nation. Now she was working with the ruler of a nation she’d never stepped foot in, entirely new customs and traditions to research, a new social structure, new everything.

What a fun challenge.

With a smile on her face, Y/N followed closely behind Iroh, the palace was stunning, she couldn’t deny it. And compared to the crumbling infrastructure of the lower rings of cities like Ba Sing Se, Fire Nation cities were prospering Fire Lord Zuko’s rule. From what she’d heard, things weren’t always this way.

“Y/N and I are going to wait here,” he gestured to the open space before them, dozens of paintings within it, “these two will take you to your rooms.” He explained to the pair of young girls, nodding to the servants beside them, who began to guide the young girls away.

Y/N’s eyes found their way to the paintings, the newest one being of the current Fire Lord, Zuko himself. She wondered how accurate the painting was, and seeing as she would be meeting him soon, Y/N figured she’d find out as she sighed, turning to Iroh, “so how does the original heir to the throne become the owner of an infamous tea shop?” 

Iroh smiles to himself at her words, “age brings wisdom. And tea is a nice substitute for alcohol.” He jokes, though Y/N can see the pain in his eyes, along with admiration as he stares at Zuko’s portrait alongside her.

“Uncle!” A voice exclaimed, joy clear in his voice as he called out. Y/N watched as Iroh spun around, a broad smile on his face as he moved forwards to embrace the person.

He looked better in person, Y/N quickly decided, though the portrait did its job just as well. She wouldn’t deny he was attractive, but she already knew looks weren’t the issue. Iroh had informed her of the situation, Zuko’s constant rejection of any and every single person that approached him, and the stress he experienced because of the politics of it all.

“Nephew, it is good to see you,” Iroh said, releasing him from the hug, “how are you?” Initially he seemed fairly comfortable at the sight of just his Uncle, but as the Fire Lord’s body seemed to stiffen, Y/N realized she’d been spotted.

So, he wasn’t comfortable with strangers, “I’m alright Uncle... who is this?” He asked. There was an edge to his voice as he spoke, sizing Y/N up, not in the way you did for someone you were attracted to, but for an enemy.

Uncomfortable with new people, clear trust issues, and his mind was always alert. She’d have to write these things down and take them into consideration prior to finding him a potential partner. Though it was starting to look like he was completely unaware of her purpose there as she extended her hand out to him, “Y/N L/N. Professional matchmaker.” She explained with a bright smile, though, based off his personality, that would likely ward him off more.

He was polite though, shaking her hand despite his clear suspicions of her, “Zuko.” Y/N couldn’t help but raise a brow at this, he hadn’t mentioned his title in his introduction. Zuko turned to his Uncle, brows furrowing as he said, “you hired a professional matchmaker?”

With a shrug Iroh responded, “we met by chance! So, it must be destiny.”

Zuko gives him a tight lipped smile, nodding slowly before returning his attention to Y/N who stood away from the pair, examining the decor of the palace. It was minimalistic, truly basic if she was honest, despite the clear amount of riches they possessed, it lacked evidence of them. Bringing her eyes back to him, he spoke, “you don’t need to be here. You can receive your pay, but I personally see no purpose for a matchmaker.”

Iroh frowned at his words, “Zuko, you need to give it a chance! Unlike all those ladies who keep throwing themselves at you. Besides, she seems rather good at her job.” His gaze was on his nephew as he sighed, giving Y/N an apologetic look that she simply waved off.

“Oh, it’s fine. It just won’t be for long.” Zuko raised a brow at her words, and Y/N watched his feet shifted, “no need to prepare for a fight, your majesty.” She hummed, rolling her neck, in the corner of her eye she could see shock flash in his own. “You see, as a matchmaker I do several things, including developing a little... profile of my clients. Now we just met but I can already tell you a variety of things about you that’s making your love life rather trivial.” Even before she had to develop the profiles professionally, in the lower rings of Ba Sing Se, being capable of reading others was a necessary skill.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed at her, “and what have you determined, in the very short time we’ve known each other.”

A small laugh escaped her as she extended her arms and cracked her knuckles, “well. You have major trust issues, which is why you are desperately trying to keep me at arms length. That’s one reason why you have yet to find someone.” Turning her attention to the decor of the large room, Y/N closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Given the lack of interior design, I would say you’re struggling with social aspects of your job, and you need a partner. One that I can help you find.” 

“See! I told you she’s good at what she does.” Iroh exclaimed, moving forward to clap a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder, much to Zuko’s dismay. 

Y/N gave the older man a small smile before looking back to Zuko, who eyed her wearily, “you keep avoiding the portrait of your father. But you can’t bring yourself to take it down.” She said, and Y/N could practically feel the tension building with each word. “He’s one of the reasons you’ve yet to find a lover-”

“Because he gave me the scar?” 

Y/N paused, brows furrowing at his words, her eyes found his, “I’m sorry, was that a joke?” She asked, and Iroh stared between the two, amused. “You’re actually rather attractive, which is why I know this is a personality thing. Probably tired of the whole fancy court thing they have going on here, which I’m going to need to research...” Y/N pursed her lips, failing to notice the clear shock on Zuko’s face at her comment, and red flushing his cheeks. Waving off her thoughts, she looked back to him, “anyways. My assistants should’ve already cleared out about an hour in your schedule each day for our sessions. I’m going to be asking you some very personal questions. So, be ready!” 

And with that, Y/N waved to the two, bowing rather questionably shortly after, before heading off in the direction she’d seen Marcella and Evelyn go in. Effectively leaving behind a baffled Zuko, and a rather satisfied Iroh, who began to laugh at Zuko’s reaction. “I really like her, quite the character she has.” 

“Yeah, quite the character.” He brought a hand to his temple, “is this really necessary, Uncle?” 

Iroh simply sighed, looking to his nephew, “whether you want to admit it or not, she was right. Ruling a nation is difficult, and ruling it alone is even harder.” A small huff of laughter escaped Iroh, “and she figured that out by your lack of interior design!” 

Exhaling deeply, Zuko reminded himself that this was all part of the job, the job that consumed his entire life. The life that this girl had analyzed in a matter of moments. 

Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to their meetings.

Though his morals and his disagreement with practically selling your own child were a major factor in his lack of a love life. There was also the simple fact that there was no love in many of the interactions he had with potential suitors, much less genuine interest. They all wanted the power he could give them should they get married.

There was also the fact that Zuko had very little relationship experience, a fact he was trying to ignore. At the end of the day, he couldn’t bring himself to approach anyone, and if he did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Zuko also doubted that people would act... genuine around him, especially if they knew who he was. And all he really wanted was something real, considering his entire day was surrounded by fake smiles that belonged to both him and others.

It seemed that Y/N wasn’t prepared to ignore this piece of information though, since the following morning she’d seated him down and begun to speak of it, “so. You’ve been in two relationships.”

His brows furrowed, “one actually.” He and Mai had broken up about six months into his work as Fire Lord, “Mai.”

Raising a brow at him, she leaned back in the seat. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to decorate the place in such a short period of time, as he could’ve sworn there hadn’t been a desk here the previous day. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d toured his own palace. “Well, I’ve heard rumors of you and a Southern Water Tribe member, but I’m not sure which one so I just-”

“Okay! That’s enough.” His cheeks were flushed red as he looked away.

Y/N grinned at him, leaning forwards, “then let’s discuss Mai. You two were pretty on and off, right?” 

Zuko grimaced at the thought, they were. He wouldn’t deny that he’d gone back to her a few times during his time as Fire Lord, “yeah.” 

Y/N began to write into her notebook, “tell me about her.”

“I don’t see why that’s important.” Came his response, looking at her quizzically as he frowned.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N gave Zuko a look, “come on. Let me do my job, I need to know about her to gauge what types of personalities you like while also determining why the two of you broke it off entirely.” She placed the book down, and Zuko could very clearly see the words ‘commitment issues’ underlined. “The goal isn’t just to find you a suitable wife that can help you rule, but someone you can be happy with.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes on Y/N, her words seem honest. And this was her job, “she was blunt. Honest. Kind of mean at times, but she could be sweet as well. Pretty stoic, expressing her emotions was always... difficult for her.” 

Y/N nodded slowly, scribbling a few more things down, “okay. And what’s your favorite color?” 

“What type of question is that?” Zuko asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

Crossing her arms, Y/N shrugged, “well. Favorite colors can tell you a lot about a person.” Came her response, “mine is green. Maybe that’s because I associate green with the Earth Kingdom, where I lived. Or maybe it’s because I happen to like nature quite a bit.” Looking around, Zuko could see that she’d already gotten a variety of plants native to the Fire Nation, most were succulents due to the almost year round heat.

At the mention of colors, his mind immediately went back to his first experience with the dragons, when their fire encircled him and Aang. “I.. don’t know how to describe the color- colors?” Zuko’s brows drew together in thought, and Y/N looked at him.

“How would I not understand a color?” The confusion is clear in her voice as she looks at him. Y/N can practically see the nostalgia in his eyes as he looks to the balcony.

Sighing, Zuko shifted in his seat, “these dragons I met ended up making a circle of fire around me and there were just... so many colors. But together it was just,” he paused, searching for the right word, “beautiful.”

Y/N’s mouth gaped open for a moment, “you met dragons?” She exclaimed, nearly throwing her notebook aside. Y/N had never seen such creatures, in fact, the general consensus was that they were still extinct

Zuko seemed to forget about this fact as he straightened himself, eyes meeting hers, “you can’t tell anyone about them!” He exclaimed, “they were hunted to extinction, though I intend to outlaw such things it’s just...” 

She nodded in understanding, “people break laws.” Y/N leaned back into her seat once more, “you owe me a dragon story.” She said, before crossing her legs in her seat and continuing, “favorite food?”

“Well, Aang took me to Avatar Day, and they had these weird Avatar shaped dough things.” He explained, recalling the time he’d gone with Aang and the others. Apparently they used to burn his statue, but now they worship him for some reason.

Y/N brought a hand under her chin, “I have no idea what that is.” She began to scribble something down on her notepad, “but okay.”

“What about you?”

Y/N hummed in response, “what do you mean?” 

Zuko felt his cheeks warm, “this just feels like an interview.”

“Probably because it is an interview.” Y/N said, gesturing for him to elaborate.

Looking away, Zuko frowned, “it’s weird.” Sighing, he spoke once more, “so, what’s your favorite food?” 

Y/N was silent for a moment, staring at Zuko, who was trying his hardest to avoid her gaze. This was a rare occurrence, seeing as most nobles were rather self-centered and liked talking about themselves. She’d never had a client who felt uncomfortable with this portion because it was basically a one-sided conversation. “Jennamite is a good rock candy.”

Zuko turns back to her, a small laugh escaping him, “my friends were nearly killed in Jennamite by the King of Omashu once.” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

ATTEMPT ONE

Y/N wouldn’t deny how odd it was, to be sharing as much information as she was learning about Zuko. She’d never really considered just how personal some of the questions were until she found herself answering them. But, after about a month, she had assembled a pretty good array of potential suitors for Zuko. Along with a few of her own clients, Y/N had found some girls that from the Fire Nation that seemed pretty acceptable.

That’s what she had thought at least.

“What do you mean, you already rejected her?” 

Turns out, Zuko had met half the women, and rejected them. The other half were either from the Earth Kingdom, or yet to attend one of few Galas that Zuko hosted. Seeing as he handed off most of that work to his advisors, it was rare for him to remain at Galas for an extended period of time. 

He grimaced at Y/N’s words nonetheless, his Uncle had informed her of his situation, but clearly not the extent of it. “She was more interested in her guard than me. It was a power grab her parents likely forced her into.” He remembered the girl, she’d been kind to him, but she clearly didn’t want him as much as her parents did.

His words brought about a new level of understanding for Y/N, who nodded slowly, of course it was the parents that Zuko had a problem with. It wasn’t uncommon for nobles to practically throw their children at potential suitors as though they’re a bag of coins. It was something that disgusted her as well, her job found people companions that they liked while these people simply wished for an addition to their power.

Zuko was the ultimate power grab. Y/N could only imagine how many times this had happened to him, random people he’d never met approaching him, offering their child’s hand in marriage. 

Bringing a hand to her temple, Y/N sighed, “but the rest are fine?” 

He nodded slowly, flipping through the pages he had yet to remove, Zuko skimmed what Y/N had written. Taking note of her handwriting, he wondered if she’d written his profile like this. “Yeah...” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, and Zuko sighed, removing a few more pages from the binder she’d presented him with. 

Exhaling deeply, Y/N brought a hand to Zuko’s shoulder, “be honest with me. I’m not gonna yell at you for removing them Zuko, this is for you.”

Sometimes he forgot it was her job to be nice to him. 

“Right.” He mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling he got as she removed her hand. “That’s still... a lot of people. Some of which aren’t even in this nation.” Zuko pointed out, a queasy feeling within him as he looked at her.

Y/N plopped down onto the couch in the common room they’d met in, sprawling her body across it, “you’re right, there is a lot. But,” She twisted her body so that she could see him, wiggling her brows suggestively, “it’s been a while since you hosted a Gala.” 

Zuko’s face dropped at her words, in his years of being Fire Lord, he’d had about three total, and hated every single one. But given how rare the Galas were, people got pretty excited when he threw them. “I hate planning those, it’s a waste of time and-” 

A small smile was on her face as she interrupted him, “and you suck at planning them? I can tell by the decor of your palace.” Glaring at her, Zuko watched as she shifted so that her head hung off the couch upside down, “well. This will be the best Gala yet, you’ll impress all the ladies that you can’t meet in the immediate future in about...” Y/N looked to the watch on her wrist, brows furrowing, “eight months. And I’ll help you plan it, since you desperately need help-”

“Alright, I get it, I’m horrible.” He grumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his seat across from her after placing the binder on the coffee table between them. “Eight months isn’t a lot of time,” traditionally, Gala’s took at least a year’s worth of planning and preparation, especially since Zuko was so busy he barely had the time to assist in the process. Eight months was no where near enough.

Y/N was still frowning at his words, “no self-deprecation.” She ordered, taking Zuko by surprise, before continuing, “regardless. I’ve planned Gala in less time with less resources. It’ll be fine.” Pursing her lips Y/N sighed, “now we need to discuss your inability to talk to people in general due to your immense trust issues and constant battle field mentality.” 

Zuko’s mouth gaped open at her words, “excuse me?”

Bringing her hands to rest on her stomach as she laid upside down, Y/N spoke, “when we first met you looked like you contemplated attacking me. And when you met Marcella and Evelyn, I’ve never seen someone so awkward.” Zuko is silent and looks away, only proving her point as Y/N continued, “so we need to practice your people skills, and flirting for future reference, seeing as your first date is in about a week-”

Almost immediately, Zuko straightened his posture, sitting up and looking to her as though she’d thrown a bucket of ice cold water onto him. “A week?” He winced at the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah, I spoke with one of the girls, not her parents, and asked her to meet with you later in the week.” Y/N explained, “her name is Elara, she’s in there.”

Frowning, Zuko reached for the binder and began to flip through the pages, “how’d you know I wasn’t going to get rid of her page?” Only to find the girl’s page, details on her personality, skills, hobbies and more on them.

A smirk spread across Y/N’s face, “she was one of few I was sure you’d keep.” With a sigh, Zuko looked back to Y/N, who still sat upside down, “now. You need to practice your romance skills, so come on.” She twisted her body, her legs falling to the side of the couch, and then moving onto the floor, Y/N stood. As the blood rushed to her head, a wave of dizziness came over her, and Y/N found herself stumbling slightly.

A hand came to her back and forearm, steadying her, “you need to practice walking.” Zuko laughed slightly, a nervous edge in his voice as he eyed her. 

Y/N brought a hand to her head as she laughed as well, “oh my...” Y/N blinked several times as the wave of dizziness passed, her hand gripping Zuko’s arm as she grounded herself. Looking up to him, she quickly realized how close they were and cleared her throat, releasing his arm.

He followed suit, removing his hands from her, “sorry-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Zuko.” 

The look her gives her almost hurts. Because Y/N can see the shock within his eyes as he nods slowly in response. She wonders what he’s thinking of as he she gives him a tight lipped smile, clapping her hands together as she turns back to him, “practice.” She repeated, mostly for herself.

And maybe offering to be the person he practiced on was her first mistake. 

ATTEMPT FIVE

Y/N had learnt a lot about Zuko in the past four dates he’d been on. One of these things being the fact that Zuko was a wild card when it came to dates, and they seemed to either go very well with the girls contacting Y/N to let her know they wished for a second date, only for Zuko to reject the possibility. Or, they went very bad. And Zuko returned with some sort of drink splattered onto his clothing.

So, Y/N decided that the best course of action was to discover what exactly Zuko wasn’t mentioning, and to follow him with a disguise. Evelyn had suggested it, Iroh supported the idea full-heartedly, though Marcella had believed it would be a huge invasion of privacy, Y/N didn’t really care, seeing as it was her job to be involved in Zuko’s love life. She was getting paid to ensure he found love. 

And she was curious.

That’s how Y/N ended up dressed in some very suspicious Fire Nation clothing alongside her assistants and the apparent Dragon of the West, famous tea shop owner, and member of the royal family. 

What a wonderful assortment of people.

Marcella and Evelyn had separated from Iroh and Y/N, sitting in another booth across from them, it was a feeble attempt to keep them from sticking out. The girl had chosen a rather upscale restaurant, so dressing appropriately while also maintaining a look that prevented Zuko from recognizing them. 

Y/N pulled her hat further down on her face as she looked to Iroh, who was browsing the menu. She wouldn’t be shocked if he entered the kitchen just to make himself a ‘decent’ cup of tea. He’d been rather helpful during the whole process, anything she didn’t find out from Zuko, Y/N had learnt from Iroh. “See anything you like, Iroh?”

He smiled at her, nodding slowly, “I think I’ll just take some tea.” 

Looking to Marcella and Evelyn, Y/N smiles, the two are speaking with one another like they aren’t supposed to be spying on the Fire Lord. But Y/N doesn’t mind, this was more of a recreational activity anyways, and she was glad they were having fun. Since they’d gotten to the Fire Nation two months ago there had been an... adjustment period to put it simply.

Y/N nodded at Iroh’s statement, and her eyes fell back onto Zuko and his newest date, Amaya, she was a simple girl. She’d possessed organizational skills that Zuko lacked, planned dozens of events, had the expressive qualities that Zuko yearned for in a partner. Amaya was one of few that Y/N was sure Zuko would take a liking to. Especially since she also had training in a variety of fighting styles, and was quite the Firebender. She’d been a little skeptical when she first contacted Amaya, the girl seemed hesitant, but she agreed.

And from the looks of it, he had. The pair was laughing along with each other, but Y/N could see the way Zuko stiffened at any physical contact, in general he’d yet to relax. If Y/N was honest, it was basically like any first date, awkward.

Zuko didn’t really know how to feel about Amaya, she was what he should be looking for in a girl, everything he needed if he was honest. She had an interest in the art, something Zuko had never taken to and the main reason his palace looked, ‘dull’ as Y/N had put it. And she was expressive, the main issue he’d had with Mai was her lack of expression. But, for some reason, Zuko just couldn’t see her as anything more than a good friend. There was something... off about her.

“When that Earth Kingdom girl approached me, I was skeptical.” Amaya explained, taking a sip from her glass, “you know how most Earth Kingdom folk are...” She gave him a look as Zuko listened in confusion. “The Fire Nation citizens simply have more class.” Amaya settled for with a shrug.

Oh.

Zuko laughed nervously, “I’m not sure I understand. I find Earth Kingdom citizens pretty pleasant actually, and Y/N, the one you met, she’s actually very resourceful and kind.” His mind went to Toph as well, who had invented an entirely new type of bending. She was an impressive young woman from the Earth Kingdom, and Y/N was as well, she’d started her own business at a young age and turned it into something incredible.

“Really? She didn’t seem too smart when I met her, but who can say no to a meeting with the Fire Lord?” 

Zuko was pretty sure her words were meant to be taken as a joke. But Amaya wasn’t the first person Zuko had encountered with this mindset, she was just more subtle about it. The supremacy of the Fire Nation was still an idea that ran rampant in some people’s minds, though Zuko had dealt with most disputes regarding his peaceful relations with other nations. Many still missed the time when the Fire Nation practically owned the world, where Fire Nation citizens could treat the people who had their homes taken from them however they pleased.

It was a dark time in his nation’s history, nonetheless, several people missed it. This was something rather prevalent amongst Nobles though, they were the ones who lost an immense amount of land when the war had ended. Many of them were bitter about what had happened. 

If Zuko was honest, she’d probably had these ideas drilled into her since birth, and simply hadn’t grown out of them, which was a shame. But as the ruler of a nation, he couldn’t rule beside someone who looked down on others simply because they weren’t from the Fire Nation.

Zuko shook his head, “Y/N built her business from the ground up. And now she’s helping the Fire Lord get dates.” He knows he sounds defensive, as though he’s prepared to fight her, something his Uncle would likely scold him for, but he doesn’t care at the moment.

“All she does is set you up with people.” 

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, and he raised a hand to get the attention of the waiter, “excuse me, could I get the check please?” The young man nodded, heading off to get the check, and Amaya looked at him incredulously. 

Y/N had done far more than set him up with people, she’d helped him begin planning a Gala, she’d tried her best to find a good assortment of people that would fit both Zuko’s needs and the Fire Nation’s, and that list was probably very difficult to narrow down. Zuko had seen the work she put in for formulating profiles of the potential suitors, and throughout all of it she had done nothing but support him. 

“What are you doing?” Amaya asked, shifting in her seat as she stared at Zuko quizzically.

The waiter came over and handed Zuko the check, and Zuko placed a pouch of money on the table, “thanks. Keep the change.” He explained, nodding to the boy, who’s mouth gaped open in surprise as he took the pouch of money, bowing to Zuko repetitively, though Zuko wasn’t paying much attention to him as he spoke to Amaya. “I don’t think this is going to work out, I’m sorry.”

Amaya is still seated in shock as Zuko rises from his table, and Y/N can’t help it when her mouth gapes open at the sight of him simply abandoning his date. She makes eye contact with Iroh, who raises a brow, and they both sit up. She moves to follow Zuko, only to bump into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” Y/N exclaims, moving down to help them pick up their hat, that had fallen when they collided.

“No, that was my fault entirely!” He responds, shaking his head as they both leaned town to pick it up.

“Aang, come on! He’s leaving.” The woman behind him exclaims.

Y/N’s brows furrow in recognition as she looks up to see a blue arrow tattooed on the man’s head, and her eyes widen in realization. Zuko had described Aang several times during their conversations, he and the rest of his friends came up often. But Y/N did not expect the first time she met the Avatar and his friends to be when they were both following Zuko on his date.

ATTEMPT FOURTEEN

Y/N simply sighs as she opens her door to see Zuko, in the outfit she’d helped him pick out. “What was it this time?” He’d been on thirteen dates thus far, and Y/N was slowly realizing that Zuko was likely one of her most difficult clients. This was purely because he’d yet to get a second date, though there had been offers, Zuko had declined all of them. 

“She was just-” His hands gestured rather broadly, he was practically throwing them into the air, “she was so rude to the waiter.” This had always been a dealbreaker for him, since he’d worked as a waiter in two different tea shops, Zuko had come to understand the importance of treating a waiter with kindness and how difficult the work could be. 

His eyes dart between Y/N and her door, she’s rubbing her eyes due to the exhaustion and Zuko can’t help the guilt that floods him. Nonetheless, she opens the door wider, heading inside her room and signaling for him to close it as she falls back onto her bed. “You were a waiter once, yeah?” He’d told her a fair share about his life in the Earth Kingdom, she’d inquired quite a bit about that part of his life. 

He asked about her life in the Earth Kingdom too, and she’d told him how poor life could be the in the outer rings, something he’d experienced for himself. Zuko listened as she describe living after her parents had died, working for a matchmaker only to discover she was actually good at the job, making a name for herself in the outer rings and then making her way inwards until she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the kingdom. Y/N spoke of how she’d met Marcella and Evelyn, and how she’d taken them in when she’d discovered they were both orphans, living on the streets as pickpockets.

Zuko wouldn’t help but laugh at this, he could imagine Evelyn as a pickpocket, but Marcella? She was a sweet girl, he couldn’t imagine her in a life of crime. Of course, desperation made people do questionable things. Zuko knew that much from experience. 

“Yeah, I was.” Came his response, taking a seat in the chair by her desk. 

Y/N sat up in her bed, bracing herself with her elbows as she raised a brow at him, “what are you doing?”

Zuko frowned, shifting in the chair, “sitting...?” He moved to get up but Y/N waved him off.

“Just lay with me, idiot.” She allowed her head to fall back onto the bed, patting the spot beside her. Clearly, her suggestion wasn’t bothering her, but Zuko felt his face flush at the possibility.

If he’s honest, he’s not even trying anymore when it comes to dates and women and love. There were three reasons for this, one of which was the fact that he simply wasn’t connecting with any of the women he had met thus far. Sure they were nice, and they probably would be his type has it not been for reason two. The fact that Zuko had realized he had feelings for Y/N, what feelings? He wasn’t sure, but they sure as hell weren’t platonic, if they were he would not be blushing this much. He wouldn’t get that weird feeling in his stomach whenever he spoke to her.

Then there was was reason three, if Zuko succeeded in finding love, then Y/N would leave. It was selfish, but he already knew he wouldn’t find anyone considering he pretty sure he loved someone else already. So now, Zuko was basically procrastinating letting Y/N know that this just wasn’t going to work out, mostly because he didn’t have a plan.

He was debating just firing her, but that likely wouldn’t go over well, and he wanted to see her business succeed. If you get fired by the Fire Lord, that just looks bad. Now Zuko wondered what the best way to go about this was, since there was no point in working for him, even if she was getting paid. He was a waste of time. 

He couldn’t help the smile graced his lips as his own thoughts reminded him of the time she’d scolded him, telling him to quit being self-deprecating. 

Zuko sat up from the chair, making his way over to her bed, Zuko found himself simply plopping down onto it face first, earning a laugh from Y/N.

He rolled over onto his back, turning to look at Y/N, only to find her eyes were already on him, bringing a blush to his cheeks as he mumbled, “what?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you haven’t gotten a second date yet.” Came her response, propping herself up on her forearm. “You have a nice personality, you’re attractive, I’m sure at least one of the girls caught your eye.” Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as she began to wonder if she’d incidentally allowed her own feelings to get in the way of her work. Maybe that’s why this was going so badly.

This was a problem. 

Zuko simply shook his head, his face on fire as he listened to her words, though he couldn’t help the hand he brought to the scar on his face. Y/N had pointed out before that he was allowing his Father to control his actions even now that he was imprisoned, and Zuko was beginning to see what she meant. 

Removing his hand from his face, Zuko sighed. Though he didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts as her hand hesitantly came to his face, placing a hand on his cheek and allowing her thumb to brush against the scar. Zuko jumped at the sudden contact, and Y/N moved to withdraw her hand almost instantly, but Zuko’s hand came to hers and held it there. Looking to her, he couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she gazed at him, and suddenly he wished he was as good at reading people as she was. 

“No self-deprecating thoughts.” Y/N mumbled, “bad Zuko.” She removed her hand from his to flick his head, causing his brows to furrow.

He pouted, and Y/N let out a laugh as he spoke, “how come you haven’t found someone?” Zuko looked to her, “you’re beautiful, and smart, and just... perfect.” He didn’t notice when her cheeks warmed, “you’re a literal matchmaker, surely you’ve considered who your perfect person is.” 

Y/N fell onto her back, running her hands over her face as she shook her head, “how have you not gotten a second date?” A sigh escaped her, “I haven’t had time for love before, and I just haven’t found that,” looking to him, she pursed her lips, “perfect person.” Growing up in the lower rings, she didn’t have time for an actual relationship, and her business as a matchmaker grew incredibly quickly. At the end of the day, long term just didn’t work out, Y/N barely had for herself, much less another person.

“I guess we both suck at love.” Zuko said, his tone was serious and Y/N couldn’t help but burst out into laughter as she swatted at his chest.

Too bad they couldn’t suck at love together. 

ATTEMPT SEVENTEEN THROUGH TWENTY EIGHT

Smoothing over her green dress, a sign of her citizenship in the Earth Kingdom, Y/N moved to answer the knock on her bedroom door. Given how long she’d been in the Fire Nation, Y/N wondered if the Earth Kingdom would still feel like home when she returned. The idea of going back felt odd, and though that time likely wasn’t soon unless Zuko met the love of his life tonight, it was inevitable.

And it horrified her. 

Holding the edge of the dress slightly to make it easier to walk, Y/N sighed and opened the door, seeing Zuko. A small smile on her face as she eyed his Fire Nation robes, “you look nice.” She complimented, tilting her head at him as she allowed her eyes to travel over his figure.

Zuko nodded, a blush coming over her cheeks, his mouth gaping open as he looked at Y/N. “You look beautiful.” She did, the dress looked amazing on her, her hair styled just right, and bracelets adorning her wrists.

“Thank you, Fire Lord Zuko.” His nose crinkled at the use of his title, coming from her it felt even weirder, wrong almost. But she continued, “mind helping me out?” She asked, moving back to her desk and taking a necklace in hand. Y/N had been struggling to put it on for the past few minutes, and now she had someone to do it for her.

He nodded, closing the door behind him, he took the necklace from her hand, and when Y/N ensured her hair was out of his way, Zuko brought the necklace around her neck. He secured the clasp, hands lingering as he adjusted it to the center of her neck. Zuko couldn’t help but notice a small scar on her shoulder, hand brushing over it.

Y/N looked over her shoulder and to him, brow raised, “how’d you get this?” He asked, brows drawn together. His hand traced the raised skin gently, Y/n could feel her cheeks warming at his touch, inhaling deeply. 

She grimaced, “a knife fight I almost lost my life to.” Was her explanation. Y/N didn’t like to think back to the days when she’d resorted to several... questionable actions to stay alive. But she pushed those thoughts away as she turned to face him. “You ready?” Y/N asked, they had to get to the Gala soon, considering the fact that Zuko was the host, Y/N was shocked he’d even stopped by her room in the first place.

Zuko was silent, simply nodding as he extended his arm for her to take. And Y/N did, looping her arm around his as she smiled, “you are gonna woo so many Earth Kingdom women tonight!” Y/N exclaimed, more confidence in her voice than Zuko had.

Shame the only Earth Kingdom girl he wanted to ‘woo’ was her.

When they’d arrived at the Gala, descending the stairs together, they were greeted with the claps of the other guests. Zuko would feel the anxiety flood him, but he paid it no mind. Though Y/N could feel the way he stiffened as he ended his speech to the diplomats of all nations, “let this be a peaceful, and joyous night!” 

They all burst out into cheers before the party continued, the music starting once more, and everyone returning to feasting upon the buffet, dancing along the ballroom floor or speaking with one another. All while Y/N led Zuko down the stairs, dragging him by the hand, “come on. Enjoy your own party, meet some girls.” She winked, and Zuko swore his face heated up even more than it already had. 

Y/N wasn’t a fool, she knew that if she’d stuck by his side the entire night, she would serve as a repellant of any potential suitors. So naturally, much to Zuko and Y/N’s dismay, she removed herself from him, playfully shoving him towards a group of Earth Kingdom girls she’d mentioned earlier. Though there were several other clusters in the ballroom.

Zuko simply sighed, giving Y/N a small smile before making his way to the group of girls. If he was honest, he would rather be spending the Gala by her side, but he had to put in some effort. He owed Y/N that much. Besides, this was an entirely new group of girls, maybe he would find someone tonight. 

“Hi there.” Zuko greeted, waving awkwardly at the girls. 

This action earned him a few laughs, and he was unsure if they actually found it funny or felt the need to laugh since he was the Fire Lord. Shortly after they began introducing themselves, speaking like there was no tomorrow. 

If Zuko was honest, the number of women here was overwhelming. So, as he excused himself from the conversation, much to their chagrin, he placed his cup down on the platter of one of many waiters. Making his way outside, Zuko couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fresh air that hit him on the balcony. Though he contemplated heading back inside when he noticed another girl was already there, eyes shut as she faced the sky, she turned to see him, eyes widening a fraction. “I’m sorry, I can go-”

“No!” She exclaimed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment due to her outburst, “no... it’s fine.” She turned back to look at the sky, hand clasped together, fidgeting.

Zuko stepped forward, finding himself situated across from her, leaning against the railing, “so why are you out here?”

A small laugh escaped the girl, and she ran a hand through her hair, “it’s rather stress relieving. You have a lovely view in your palace.” 

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he realized she recognized him, though Zuko nodded along, “what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking?” It was a stupid question, and Zuko nearly facepalmed as he pursed his lips.

“Aileen.” Came her response, and Zuko realized he recognized her name as well. She was the child of one of the more well known members of Fire Nation nobility, her parents had approached him in the past in hopes of arranging a marriage between the two of them. He had declined almost immediately. And now that Aileen turned to him, he had a feeling he made the right decision, “you’re Zuko, right?” 

He exhaled deeply, nodding, “that’s me.” Sometimes, Zuko wondered what his life would’ve been like if he wasn’t Zuko, perhaps things would’ve been simpler. No, things definitely would’ve been simpler. There would be no diplomatic meetings, no wars, no idiots trying to hurt other people, no more assassination attempts, no more fake smiles and no more Galas. Of course, if he wasn’t Zuko, he never would’ve met Y/N.

“I heard you’re looking for a partner in crime.” Aileen prompted, “why aren’t you in there finding that future love of your life?” 

Shrugging, Zuko looked up at the sky, “I found her. She just doesn’t want me.”

He can feel Aileen stare at him, she’s silent for a moment, and Zuko wonders what she’s thinking. Though he doesn’t need to wait long to find out as she responds, “I understand.” Aileen focuses her gaze on the glass she’d placed on the thick railing of the balcony, “the person I love probably doesn’t love me back. And even if they did, my parents disapprove.”

“Did you ask?” He felt hypocritical, Zuko himself had never spoken with Y/N in regards to his feelings, and he likely never would, but he wanted to know. “If they love you?”

Aileen laughs slightly, shaking her head, “I couldn’t bring myself to. I’m scared.” She replied, looking back to him curiously, “did you?”

“No.” He responded lamely, tapping his fingers against the railing with a sigh.

Aileen laughed at this, “I guess we are both cowards then.” She pursed her lips, “I didn’t ask because I was scared, why didn’t you?”

And then the words come spilling out, “whoever I end up with will greatly impact the whole world, whether I want to acknowledge it or not. And she doesn’t deserve that burden, nobody does.” He laughs bitterly as he continues, “she’s also the person that was hired to help me find love in the first place.” Zuko pauses, looking away from Aileen, “and I guess I’m scared too.”

“Ironic.” Aileen mumbles, bringing her eyes back to the sky, “let’s make a deal, Your Majesty.” 

Zuko cringes at the use of that title, almost asking her to simply refer to him by his name, though he simply responds, “what deal?”

“We both confess. And if it goes horribly wrong, we can get married.” 

Y/N can’t see the shock on Zuko’s face, but she can see how comfortable he feels with this girl, Y/N hadn’t seen her before, but she was just happy Zuko was connecting with someone. Except she also wasn’t, a bitter feeling enveloping her as she turned away, looking for something else to focus her attention on, something that didn’t hurt. 

She turned to see Marcella and Evelyn in the distance, speaking with each other. Y/N supposed if she wouldn’t be finding love tonight, then at least they would. She was no fool, she saw the way they looked at each other, the glances when the other wasn’t looking. Maybe it was dumb, but Y/N found herself feeling jealous as she moved over to the buffet with a sigh. Food solved everything in her experience, after a client had a particularly bad day, food made things better.

“Perhaps some tea?” Iroh stood beside her, a kettle in his hand, he had insisted he serve tea at the Gala, though Zuko had assured him it would be just as easy to find someone else to do the job.

Y/N smiled at him, nodding as she took a cup from the array of them within the buffet, allowing Iroh to pour her some tea. “Thank you, Iroh.” Her voice is quieter than normal, and it’s clear that Iroh can tell something is wrong.

“You know, you deserve to be happy to Y/N.” His words catch her by surprise, though she doesn’t have much time to consider their meaning before flames lighting the room begin to move erratically, causing her brows to furrow.

Something was wrong. 

Iroh nods to her, placing the tea kettle down as his brow furrow and she nods back, Iroh disappearing into the crowd of people. Y/N’s eyes fall back to Marcella and Evelyn, and she quickly moves to their side of the room, ignoring the hush that had fallen over the room, panicked gasps amongst them. Her hands fall onto both girl’s arms as she nods to them, “Y/N, whats going-”

Y/N is already dragging them in the direction of the exit, “get out of here, find the guards. I’m going to find Zuko.” The girls didn’t have much time to argue, as Y/N was already working her way through the panicked crowd, back to the balcony where she’d last seen Zuko. But, people were already pushing against her movements, making it difficult. Raising her head above the crowd in an attempt to see what’s going on, Y/N realizes whats happening. 

Firebenders were trying to force them together, and Y/N couldn’t help but panic as she wondered if Marcella and Evelyn managed to escape and find the guards. 

This was an ambush.

No, this was an assassination attempt. Zuko already knew as he watched the atmosphere of the party begin to shift, that and the person who stood before him in all black, brandishing several weapons. Alongside four others who stood by her side. 

“You know, it wasn’t until I met you that I realized how bad it had gotten.” Aileen stood beside Zuko, eyes meeting his in horror as they exchanged looks. Zuko simply hoped the nod he gave her provided some semblance of comfort as he returned his attention to the person before him. “I mean, defending some lowly Earth Kingdom matchmaker? What type of career even is that?” 

Her voice is almost maniacal, and Zuko can’t help but wince as he feels reminded of his sister. But he recognizes it nonetheless, Amaya. It had been months since he’d seen her, but he could still remember her voice. Her face was covered by a mask, and she wielded a sword, and if Zuko remembered correctly, she had been trained in dozens of fighting styles and was a talented bender herself. Alongside the four other men, Zuko couldn’t help but panic internally as he spoke, “Amaya, why don’t you put the swords down, and we talk about this.”

She laughs in response, ripping the mask that covered her face off and throwing it aside, “people have tried to talk to you about this. Your-” She grappled for the word, a hand yanking at her hair as she gestured to him with a sword, “your radical ideas!” 

Zuko didn’t find having morals radical, but he wasn’t going to say that, not while Aileen’s life was on the line. Zuko suddenly realized why having an heir was important as he shook his head, “Amaya, look. Why don’t you let Aileen here leave, and then you and I can talk.” 

Aileen looks like she’s going to protest, but Amaya glances at her red robes, a sign of her Fire Nation citizenship, and gestures for her to leave. “Get out. My problem isn’t with you.” 

When Aileen doesn’t move, Amaya quickly grows frustrated, calling out to one of the guards she’d brought along that lied inside, “take this fool away.” 

There’s no response, and Zuko can see panic flood Amaya’s face. And looking behind her, he quickly realizes that most of the guards have been subdued, Y/N holding one of them in her arms as she knocks them to the ground. Moving towards the balcony stealthily as Amaya’s hands begin to shake, fire sparking in her palms as she focused her attention onto Zuko. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to our nation.” 

But Zuko wasn’t looking at her as he shook his head, hoping Y/N would understand. There was no way she could overpower Amaya, not with her bending. Y/N didn’t even have a weapon.

Now, Y/N knew for a fact that no matter how talented Zuko was, he wouldn’t put the girl beside him in danger. His priority would be keeping her alive, and given the training Amaya had as a noble, in both Firebending and fighting, she might even be as good as Zuko in a fight.

Meaning she had to be taken out of the fight.

Everything happened pretty fast after that. Zuko was shielding body coming forward to shield Aileens as he extended his freehand to Firebend at the people who’d surrounded them, only for Amaya to move out of the way. The girl was practically screaming bloody murder as she lunged at him, now wielding her sword. 

Zuko didn’t have to figure out what to do next because Y/N moved faster than Amaya did, tackling the girl over the railing and down below as he began to scream. 

THE FINAL ATTEMPT

Zuko’s knee is bouncing rapidly as he sits beside Iroh, who knits a scarf of some sort despite the blistering heat of the Fire Nation. He’s insisted that when Y/N returned to the Earth Kingdom she’d need it, and Zuko didn’t have the heart to disagree. Iroh had started stress-knitting about four hours ago, when Y/N had entered the room they all sat before, anxiously awaiting news of her condition.

Marcella and Evelyn are to Zuko’s left, Marcella’s sobs had quieted down, but Zuko wouldn’t be shocked if he looked over and saw tears silently streaming down her face. The girl hadn’t taken it well. Evelyn remained composed, doing her best to comfort Marcella, but the wait was clearly getting to her as well as she fidgeted with Marcella’s hands.

Seeing as Y/N had fallen from several stories up off the balcony and into the water below, Zuko didn’t really think it was possible to take the news well. But he was trying. 

A pang sounded from inside the room, and Zuko practically shot up onto his feet, moving to knock on the door to discover was was wrong, only for Iroh to grab his wrist, shaking his head. Zuko exhaled deeply, beginning to pace across the hall. He found himself wishing that Katara hadn’t been busy with Water Tribe business, she was an excellent healer. Alas, Katara wasn’t there, and Zuko had to settle for one of the skilled Water Tribe diplomats instead, alongside a few others skilled in medicine. 

As he paced, Zuko could feel Evelyn’s eyes on him, and it became clear she was itching to speak and he sighed, “what’s wrong?” There were dozens of answers to this question, the main one being the fact that Y/N could die today, so he hoped she understood what he meant.

The girl is glaring at him, and Zuko can’t help but feel uneasy. Because maybe she blames him for this as much as he blames himself, and maybe she’s going to tell him off, blame him for everything. Because if Y/N dies, she and Marcella will have no one again. 

Not that Zuko would allow that. He’d grown attached to the girls as well, they were kind, and helpful. They’d help improve the interior decor of the palace, and if he was honest, it looked better than anything he ever could’ve done.

“You better tell her how you feel after this.”

Zuko’s mouth gapes open at the girl’s words, and he swears the breath leaves his longs, and its as though everything hits him then. 

He would never get to tell Y/N how he felt if she died. He’d never get to listen to her try and tell a story just to go off on dozens of tangents, he’d never get to watch as she attempted to cook again, and he’d never get to hold her in his arms once more. There would be no more late night talks, and he wouldn’t hear her laugh, she wouldn’t tease him anymore and they wouldn’t walk through the courtyard feeding turtleducks again.

She’d never know he loved her.

Zuko finds himself nodding to Evelyn’s words, frozen in place as he looks to her and asks, “was I that obvious?” His voice is hoarse, and its probably because he didn’t stop screaming, even when Y/N’s body hit the water. 

Marcella is laughing at his words, blowing her nose into a tissue that Evelyn hands her before she speaks, “painfully obvious.”

“For someone who’s job revolves around love, Y/N is one of the most oblivious people I’ve ever met.” Evelyn grumbles out, rubbing her eyes as she yawns.

It was late, Zuko knew that much, the guests of the party had gone to the infirmary in the palace, being tended to by doctors and any other available healers if injured. Otherwise, they’d all returned to their rooms to sleep, or more likely stay up in fear of another attack. Zuko surely would.

“Go to bed guys, it’s getting late.” 

Evelyn looks at him like he’s one of the dumbest people she’s met, and if Zuko was honest, he probably was. But he simply nodded to Marcella, who had started leaning her head against Evelyn’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Uncle, why don’t you take them back to their rooms?”

Considering the fact that Zuko’s guards were around the corner, he wasn’t scared for his safety, but their presence just made him want to remain awake. 

“Nephew, you should sleep as well.” His Uncle replied, though he rose from his seat, bringing the yarn and the start of the scarf under his arm. 

Zuko gave his Uncle a smile, “I will. But if anything happens before then, I’ll be sure to alert you all.” He assured, nodding to Evelyn, who eyed him wearily. But she relented, shaking Marcella gently before standing up alongside her and Iroh. 

When they were out of sight, Zuko plopped back down in the seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought his hands to his face.

And for the first time in the night he cried, his body racked with sobs as tears streamed down his face and he struggled to breathe. The pain of all that had happened felt almost unbearable. She had to live. Y/N had to live. Because Zuko was going to confess. 

His fear of losing her outweighed his fear of rejection.

Wiping his tears away, Zuko suddenly felt grateful that Evelyn had left the box of tissues as he blew his nose. He sighed, his eyes piercing the door, hoping that something would happen.

As though his stare had willed her to exit the room, the healer came out, a grimace on her face as she looked to Zuko, likely because of his bloodshot eyes. The woman simply sighed, the grimace becoming a more sympathetic look. “Miss L/N lost a lot of blood... several of her bones were broken when she hit the water, especially her ribs. Her internal organs were damaged as well and... well it wasn’t very likely for her to survive.”

She’s dead.

Y/N is dead.

Oh.

“Wow, you look like a mess.” 

Zuko’s head whips up, his eyes meeting Y/N’s, she’s leaning against a wooden crutch, grinning lazily at him. The healer beside her looks rather apologetic as she frantically explains, “she woke up far quicker than we anticipated and only agreed to rest if we participated in her rather cruel prank.”

So, she wasn’t a ghost.

Zuko launches himself up from the chair, nearly tackling Y/N, but the wooden crutch she uses for support serves as a reminder of her fragile state as he asks, “can I hug you?”

Her smile falters at the sound of his voice, hoarse and jagged, so she simply extends are free arm outward. Zuko takes this as an invitation for a hug, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her neck, Y/N wrapped her free arm around his neck, hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. “Im s-”

“It’s not your fault Zuko. I swear if you say its your fault I will throw myself over the balcony again.” She threatened, hand tightening in his hair.

Zuko laughs quietly, inhaling deeply before he speaks again, “please never do that again.” 

“I make no promises.”

Sighing, Zuko releases her, “I hate you so much.” 

Y/N scoffed, “you love me.” She was limping over to the bed in the middle of the room, blood coating the surrounding area. Though the doctors in the room were moving across the room that they’d placed Y/N on, and dealt with her injuries on, Zuko couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight.

She could’ve died.

“Yeah, I do.”

Y/N pauses, turning to look back at him, her mouth gapes open. Zuko’s looking away, eyes on anything but her as he inhales deeply.

The healer simply sighs, “before we do this, I should inform the two of you that Miss Y/N cannot do any... strenuous activities for at least one month.”

Zuko’s cheeks are flushing red as he shakes his head rapidly, “ma’am-”

“We’ll be taking our leave. Have fun, but not too much fun. Please.” The woman closes the door behind her once the other doctors are out of the room, and Y/N can’t stop laughing at the mortified expression on Zuko’s face, despite the sharp pain she feels in her ribs.

Taking a seat on the fresh sheets of the bed, Y/N sighs, “so you love me?” She’s picking at the sheets, “as a friend?”

Zuko suddenly realizes just how right Evelyn was as he slowly shakes his head, “no. More than a friend. I think I inadvertently sabotaged half of the dates you sent me on because of it.”

Y/N laughs quietly, eyes falling on Zuko only to see he’s looking anywhere but her, she calls out to him quietly, “Zuko. Look at me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to bring his gaze to her, eyes meeting hers as he begins to fidget with his hand. Y/N simply reaches her hand out, and he takes it. “I love you too, idiot.” She mumbles, pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I just wish you had told me sooner so I didn’t waste so much time trying to set you up with other women.” 

A small laugh escapes him as he brings his hand to her hair, “how do I know you weren’t purposely giving me bad matches because you were in love with me?” 

Y/N removes her head from his stomach, looking up at him, her nose crinkles, “unlike you, I am a professional.” Zuko flicks her forehead, and Y/N pouts at him, hand coming up to his face, “can I kiss you?”

She can feel his face warm, but he nods rather enthusiastically nonetheless, and Y/N finds herself smiling at his as she uses her hands to pull his face downward towards her. His lips meet hers, and Zuko finds himself feeling complete, hands coming to Y/N’s face in an attempt to pull her closer while hers move to his ball up his robes that he’d yet to change.

 Zuko pulls away first, forehead resting on hers, “you need to sleep.” 

Y/N scoffed, eyes narrowing at him, “you need to sleep.” Looking to the bed, she raises a brow at him, “wanna lay with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I could accidentally injure you or-”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N yanks him onto the bed, making her way to the other side and getting comfortable, “I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, everything would be fine. Maybe not for the Fire Nation, seeing as Y/N would potentially help rule a nation but...

Everything would be fine.

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

A/N: i hope this was good enough!!! i tried!!! and idk how it ended up over 12k... that’s crazy man um kjhdsajfhjkah omg i really liked this concept though i hope i did it justice

TAGLISTS [lmk if you want to be added or removed via askbox or replies]

ATLA: @bubblebars​ @jada-cleo​ @Art-flirt @the-deli-meat​ @wemissyou3000​ @ajediherowitchrunner​

ZUKO: @outerxorbit @shawkneecaps @lil-lex1 @boxofteenageideas @izzieserra @eridanuswave @bigbuckyenergy @celamoon @savemesteeb @shephard17895 @ijustwannabecanadian @duh-dobrik @anime-simp @lammello  

[rainy-day-coffee]

Hey! Good day? I hope so! I'm sorry if I write something wrong, english isn't my native language. Well... I have an idea veeerryy funny! Like, the dorm leaders have a gf, the only girl on nrc. But something goes wrong in alchemy class, the potion tha she is making explode and she becames a boy. How would the dorm leaders react?

Hello! It’s been quite a nice day for me, thank you! I hope it’s been going well for you as well! And your English is just fine don’t worry! This was a lot of fun to write! Though I’m sorry nony, I think I made this way more cheesy than funny!

Dorm leaders reacting to their fem!s/o turning into a boy!

Red in the face and not because he’s blushing

Not at all bothered by your new physical appearance, he’s more concentrated with your blunder in potion making. The effects of potions are only temporary after all!

He’ll scold you first and foremost. This is why you need to follow everything exactly as the instructions say!

Depending on the severity of your reaction to the whole ordeal, he’ll either make the reversal potion himself or force you to make it 

Just a warning to you, you’re most likely going to be stuck with the latter

He expects you to improve from your mistakes

If he forces you to make it on your own, he'll stick around to help you just a bit!

In the case you ask for some reassurance, he'll shyly peck your cheek and tell you you're still the most beautiful rose he’s ever seen

Thanks to his keen sense of smell he's able to tell who you are straight away. You could probably turn into a krill and he’d still somehow know it’s you!

Leona wouldn’t mind too much to be honest, he’s very chill about it. His herbivore is still his herbivore, right? No need to make a fuss then

However, if you were uncomfortable in your new body, you can bet that he’ll march off to make you a reversal potion.

He will not trust anyone else in making it

If you’re okay with staying that way for awhile, he will treat you no differently! Just cuddle with him and sleep the majority of the day away!

Would 10/10 let you borrow his clothing if you need something to wear! Cuddling AND yet to get to smell like him? Perfect

Who knows, you two might just sleep the potion’s effects away

If you were any other student in this entire school and came to him for help, he would coax you into a signing a sketchy contract with him. But you aren’t any other student, you’re his precious pearl! You get a discount!

He probably thought you were another student doing a bad impersonation of his girlfriend. He does run a shady business. It’s not odd to encounter a couple of interesting individuals

Cue a blank look and dramatic sigh when he discovers you are in fact his girlfriend. He then smirks with a new found glint his eyes. He will see this as an opportunity.

He’ll make you a reversal potion on one condition! Give him cuddles and kisses. A good deal, no?

He’ll be disappointed if you deny him. He might try and slink off to his octopus pot in embarrassment too. Just give him those cuddles and kisses and he’ll be fine!

He lets you borrow his suits so you two can match! The twins will tease you a lot, but it's not like they don’t do that already

I have a very strong feeling something similar has happened to him in the past. Jamil nearly had a stroke that day

Bless this boy’s soul, he really thought you might have been his girlfriend’s twin brother. He even introduced himself and everything. He was ready to throw a welcome party too

A little embarrassed when you explain what happened. You assure him it’s okay though! He was simply being his usual sweet self

He’s very quick to lavish you with compliments! Look at his girlfriend! She’s beautiful in any form she takes! He probably goes so far as to try and show you off to the rest of the Scarabia dorm

It’s very hard not to practice self-love when you’re around this ball of sunshine

He would try and make you a reversal potion! It may not go so well though. He then offers to ask Jamil to make you one!

If you decide to stay in this form until the effects wear out, he’ll dress you up in so much clothing. Specifically clothing from the Land of Hot Sands! He compliments you every time you change into something new!

He knows mistakes happen so he isn't all too angry. That doesn’t mean he won’t scold you!

He’s not one to conform to gender norms in the first place. He doesn’t care that you suddenly underwent an accidental sex change

If you feel insecure about being in a body you aren’t used to, he’ll compliment you in his own way. A little offended if you think he’ll love you any less though

“Remember dear, confidence comes from within. Despite what may happen always keep your chin up.”

He lets you decide what you want to do

Want to be turned back immediately? He’ll whip up a potion for you in no time! Something as simple as that is no trouble for him at all!

You wish to remain in this form until the potion wears off? He’ll dress you up in a variety of his clothes! Nothing but the best for his dearest!

Impromptu fashion show? Impromptu fashion show.

Rook may sneak in to watch

Will most likely go over the potion instructions with you so this doesn't happen again! He needs you to learn to do things on your own in case he isn’t there to help!

He might not recognize you at first

Has a heart attack when he sees you for sure. Who is this normie that barged into his room uninvited? Why are they talking like they know him?

Would probably laugh at you a little, you messed up that badly???

Ceases his laughter immediately if you're distraught. He didn't mean to make you feel worse! He just thought it was a little funny!

If you're worried about what he thinks, he'll quietly reassure you he doesn't mind. He fell in love with your personality, not your physical appearance! He's shy and struggles in telling you this but he's trying his best

He'll let you borrow his clothes if you don't have any suitable outfits! It doesn't matter if you've already worn his stuff, he will blush just as hard. May sneak a picture or two when you aren’t looking

He’ll be quick to make you a reversal potion! Whether you decide to use it or not is entirely up to you!

He’ll know immediately it’s you

Don’t even try and prank him, his reaction won’t be that worthwhile

He’s so sweet and calm about the situation! He’ll first make sure that you’re alright both physically and emotionally

If at any moment you feel self-conscious, he’ll kiss you softly. It’s all you need to know he doesn’t mind you this way either

Once he’s assured that you’re fine, he’ll tease you lightly! His little beastie really jinxed up this time!

He doesn’t have many clothes that aren’t formal, except for the souvenir T-shirts Lilia buys him on his many trips. You’re free to wear those if you’d like! 

A certain green-haired retainer may or may not be extremely jealous of you

If a reversal spell exists he can cast it for you in heartbeat. Or if you’d like to mess around awhile in this new form, be his guest! He might just join you in pulling a joke or two on the rest of the Diasomnia members! Lilia probably won’t fall for it but Silver and Sebek may not be as safe

[helloalycia]

girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)

part two | part three | part four | part five |masterlist | wattpad

Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!

I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.

The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."

She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."

I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.

"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."

She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.

I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."

I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.

I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.

To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.

I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.

She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.

"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."

Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.

I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.

"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"

She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."

I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."

She nodded. "You, too."

–

The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.

I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.

When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.

I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."

She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"

"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."

I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.

"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."

After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."

I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"

Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.

"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."

I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."

She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.

"I like your garden."

I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.

"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."

I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."

"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."

I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.

"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."

She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."

"You, too, Wanda."

–

The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.

"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.

He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"

I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."

"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."

I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.

"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"

I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.

"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."

I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."

She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.

"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."

Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."

"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."

Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.

I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.

"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."

I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."

"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."

"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.

I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.

"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.

She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"

"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.

Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N." 

I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."

She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."

"Fingers crossed."

She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."

"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.

It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.

"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."

I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.

"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."

"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."

Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.

"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"

He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."

He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?

"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.

"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.

I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.

"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.

I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."

They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.

When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.

I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."

I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"

I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."

Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.

The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.

I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself. 

"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."

She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."

"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."

She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."

i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."

"Y/N, I–"

"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.

"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"

"Perfect," I said sarcastically.

She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."

Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.

"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"

"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."

"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"

She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."

"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.

After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.

"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.

He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"

As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting. 

"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.

As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.

"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.

"Wanda, my new neighbour."

"Never heard of her."

I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'

He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."

I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."

"What, like a weirdo?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."

"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."

I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.

"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."

"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."

She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"

Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.

"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."

"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."

It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.

"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."

She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."

I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."

She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."

"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.

When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Sorry for your loss - Part III "I will get better"

Serie Masterlist here || Part II| | Read on AO3 

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5

//-//

Chapter III - I will get better.

Your mother has an insinuating look on her face when you wake up after hearing noises of voices and walk to the kitchen, finding her sipping coffee on the table. With Wanda.

"H-hey." You greet clumsily, your sleepy brain had completely forgotten that the redhead was in your house.

"Good morning honey." Your mother said, her gaze following you all the way to the cupboards and as you served yourself. "I was just telling Wanda how I've been suggesting that you schedule a coffee so we could get to know each other, and what a coincidence it is that I come home and find her lost in my kitchen."

You yawn, shrugging your shoulders.

"Yes, fate is incredible." You mumble sarcastically, and your mother laughs lightly patting you on the arm as you sit down next to her at the table. "Did you sleep well, Wands?"

The redhead looks up at you and smiles as she nods. You stare back for a moment, but feeling your cheeks flush, you look away to your coffee.

"How was your date, Mom?" You ask next, not missing the opportunity to tease her.

"How was yours?"

You choke on your coffee, and your mother laughs. You don't risk looking at Wanda after that joke. But your mother is quick enough to change the subject.

"I need to talk to you about something, by the way." She comments stretching her arm to reach for the work case she left on the empty chair at the table. "Darcy came by the store yesterday afternoon, looking for you."

You frown in surprise, turning your head to look at your mother. She rummages through the files inside her bag, and then pulls out a red folder, handing it to you next.

"What's this?"

"Your contract."

You blink in surprise, and then open the folder. Running your hand over your face momentarily, you sigh.

"Mom..."

"Honey, give it a try." Your mother pleads touching your shoulder. "You are so talented honey. It would be so nice if you would write again."

You laugh humorlessly, running your hand through your hair. Taking a deep breath, you close the folder.

"I'll think about it."

Your words are far more than anything you have done regarding work in many months, so your mother lets out a contented exclamation and gives you a kiss on the cheek, making you laugh.

"Now, let's change the topic, okay?" you ask clumsily, making your mother laugh. She straightens up in her chair, and you look at Wanda quickly, blushing at the fond look in her eyes in your direction.

"Tell me, darling, what do you do?" Your mother asks Wanda. You go back to eating, holding back a giggle. You knew that now your mother would interrogate Wanda the same way Pietro did you, but she was far less subtle than the man was.

Several minutes later, Wanda managed to evade questions when she said she needed to go home, and you nudged your mother lightly in the ribs to get her to leave the other woman alone.

You stood up, grabbing the pots and pans from the table to take to the sink before walking Wanda to the front door while your mother pretended to read the newspaper while watching you two.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night." Wanda said at the door. You smiled, telling her it was okay. She hesitated next, and then moved closer, kissing your cheek good-bye. You nodded dismissively as she walked away, a silly smile on your face as you closed the door after she returned to the car parked in the driveway.

"I liked her." Your mother says as soon as you close the door. You give a short laugh, turning to go back to your room and take a shower. "Don't let that one get away."

"I'm not going to talk about this." You tell her with a mixture of embarrassment and impatience, looking back. Your mother laughs, glancing back at the paper.

//-//

Non-Reader Pov’s

Wanda sighed as she opened the door to the house. The boys were with Pietro, because they had insisted on spending the night after the party. And honestly, Wanda was so tired that she didn't even argue.

Erik was in the living room and didn't take his eyes off the newspaper when his daughter entered the room, throwing her shoes in the doorway and her purse on the couch.

"Should I ask where you spent the night?" he says with a slight hint that makes Wanda's face heat up, but she just continues toward her own room.

"Please, don't." She asks embarrassed, and Erik smiles, not speaking again.

After taking a shower, and getting dressed, Wanda stared at herself for a few moments in the mirror. You are fine. Everything is fine. She repeated these words a few times before leaving the bathroom.

When she returned to the living room, her father was still in the same position, but this time he lowered the newspaper to look at her.

"Honey, I ended up not meeting the friend you said you were bringing to Luna's party yesterday." He counters and Wanda presses her lips together as she goes to the kitchen, starting to sort the ingredients for lunch. "Pietro told me she left early."

"Yep." Wanda agrees a moment later. "It was my fault really. But it's okay now."

"I'd still like to meet her."

Wanda grumbles in agreement, washing some pots. Erik gets up from the armchair, walking over to the counter.

"There is something else I would like to talk to you about." He continues as he rests his hands on the marble. Wanda murmurs signaling that she is listening, but does not turn around. Her father sighs before speaking. "I need to get back home."

One of the pots slips from Wanda's hand, making a noise, but she catches it before it breaks. With a racing heart, she wipes the soap from her hands and the pot, and then dries her hands with a cloth, turning to look at her father as she rests her back against the sink.

"R-right." She agrees with tears in her eyes, but forces herself to smile. Erik looks at her with concern and guilt, but still stands firm as he says.

"Wanda, it's time." He says. "Charles misses me, I can't stay here forever."

"It's okay, papa." Wanda adds in a hoarse voice. She clears her throat lightly, trying not to despair at the thought of being home alone for the first time since Vis died. "I'll be fine."

Erik went around the countertop, moving closer to his daughter to place his hands on her shoulders.

"You can call me anytime you want." He says tenderly. "This is your home, Wan. You'll be able to make it. I'm sure."

Wanda nods, letting the tears flow. Her father hugs her next, and she responds, relaxing against his grip.

Erik breaks the embrace a moment later, smiling at his daughter before pulling away.

"I need to get things organized." He says. "When Pietro arrives with the boys, tell him I need a ride."

"You’re leaving today?" Wanda asks in surprise, and Erik sighs as he agrees. She swallows dryly, nodding frantically in assent.

Her father turns toward the second floor, and Wanda rests her hands on the countertop, taking a deep breath.

She tries not to be too anxious about the fact that starting tomorrow, when the kids go off to school, she will be all alone at home. Actually alone.

//-//

Reader’s Pov

Leaving your monthly appointment with Agatha, after spending an hour telling her about all the progress since you last saw her, you were quite hungry.

You hadn't spoken to Wanda since the day before, but when you thought about texting, you were surprised to realize that she had tried to call you while you were in therapy.

Dialing her number, you waited for her to answer.

"Hey, sorry, my cell phone was off." You say as soon as she says "Hello," slightly worried that it was important. "What did you want?"

" To see you." She says simply, and you ignore your quickened heartbeat. "I...I've been sitting in my car for ten minutes. I can't get into the house."

You frown at Wanda's tearful tone.

"What happened?"

"I just..." She starts half breathlessly. "My dad's not here. I dropped the kids off at school, and I don't...I don't want to be alone."

Your heart breaks for confession, and you shake your head.

"Wands, take a deep breath okay?." You ask her. "Send me your address."

"No, you don't have to..."

"Wanda." You interrupt with a short laugh. "I don't mind, really. Let me help you."

The woman on the other end of the line sighs heavily, and then thanks you. You smile when she hangs up and there is an address on the message app.

//-//

It takes about half an hour for you to arrive, and you walk slowly to the car parked outside, tapping the window lightly to attract Wanda's attention.

She is briefly startled, distracted by her cell phone, but smiles when she realizes it is you, then opens the door and steps out to hug you. You ignore the feeling of how good it is to have her against you as you respond.

"Everything okay?" You ask softly, and Wanda denies it with her head as soon as she lets go of you. You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to resist stroking her cheek for a moment before pushing your hand away.

"I can't get in." She confesses with water-filled eyes as she leans against the car. You sigh, standing next to her with your back to the metal. Her hand slips into yours, but neither of you say anything about it.

"Why not?"

Wanda is silent for a moment, and you imagine that she is not going to answer. But she does.

"Vis bought this house for me." She begins, and you resist the urge to wipe away the tear running down her cheek, imagining that your touch might intimidate her into shutting up. "I never...I never thought I would live in it without him."

"Is that why you asked your dad to move in with you?" you question.

"I think so." She murmurs. "I...I didn't want to be alone here. I mean...I have the boys. But they stay with Pietro so much, and there's school and karate, and music class. When Vis was alive, he worked from home, and I always had company." She explains. "Dad is retired so he’s always around, and he didn't mind staying. I don't think I've been alone here in eight months." Wanda sniffles softly, wiping away tears. "But his husband needed him to come back, and Charles is right to ask. Dad can't keep babysitting his grown daughter who can't put her life together."

"Don't talk like that." You interrupt by squeezing her hand lightly. Wanda shakes her head, running her hand through her hair and taking a deep breath. "Wanda?" You call out to her after a moment, and wait for her to look at you. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

She looks at your lips for a moment, but your head is elsewhere, so you just smile. Wanda nods in agreement.

After you help her get the groceries from the car, you wait behind her until she opens the door. Wanda takes a deep breath, and turns the handle.

Her house is very nice. Clean and organized, although the common characteristics of a house inhabited by children are visible. Wanda leaves a paper bag on the countertop and helps you with the one you are carrying, picking it up and placing it next to the other.

"So?" You ask with your hands in your pockets, looking intently at Wanda, who is trembling slightly as she puts away the items in the kitchen. "Wands?"

"I just..." She begins half impatiently. You don't get affected however, standing your ground. "I don't want you to leave."

You let out a short laugh, feeling your face heat up.

"But I need to go eventually." You say shrugging. "But while i'm here, why don't you show me around? I'll spend the afternoon with you until the boys arrive. But someday you'll need to do it alone."

"Like you moving back to your apartment?" She retorts bitterly and you blink in surprise, and Wanda is already assuming an apologetic expression, but you laugh and she looks at you with confusion.

"Ouch." You joke. " All right, smarty-pants. That was mean. But it's okay, I'm not mad." You assure her approaching as you take your hands out of your pockets to raise them to Wanda's shoulders. " Let's make a deal then?"

"What?"

"I'll keep you company at your place ." You say. "And you help me with my apartment?"

Wanda looks at you a moment, thoughtful. And then she smiles, nods, and circles her arms around you, burying her head in your neck. You don't mind that this hug lasts much longer than a hug between friends does.

//-//

You are laughing at a funny story from Wanda's college days when the front door opens and three small children come running in, throwing their shoes and backpacks on the floor. Pietro is surprised to see you too as he walks in and closes the door.

"Look who's here." He comments with a smile approaching to greet you. "How are you?"

"Good, Pietro." You reply gently. "And you?"

"Yeah, it’s all fine." He says looking at Wanda for a second. "Everything okay around here?"

Wanda bites her lip, looking away to the floor before speaking.

"She's keeping me company."

"Okay?"

"Because papa's not home." Wanda adds, and it takes a moment for Pietro to understand. He exchanges a look with you, but smiles, squeezing Wanda's shoulder for a moment before the boys join you all.

"Hello, who are you?" One of the boys asks, who hugs Wanda's right leg.

You bend down at his height, extending your hand.

"I'm your mommy's friend. You're Billy right?" You say and the boy looks quickly at his mother before shaking your hand. You shake very quickly and repeatedly without squeezing making him laugh as you tell him your name.

You turn your face to the other boy, hugging Wanda's other leg. "Good to see you again, Tommy. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thank you." He replies politely, making you laugh.

"Do I know her, daddy?" You heard Luna shyly ask Pietro next as she was hiding behind her cousin Tommy. Pietro smiled, nodding.

"Yes, dear, she was at your party don't you remember?"

"She helped Tommy with his headache didn't she daddy?"

Wanda frowned in confusion, but you didn't notice, your gaze on the child as you smiled. Pietro agreed again, and then Luna approached you.

"Do you want to be my friend?" She asked and you thought your heart was going to melt with such cuteness.

"Of course I do!" You replied excitedly, imitating the hand gesture you made with Billy, drawing a laugh from the girl.

"Let's take her to see our room!" Tommy suggested next, and you let out an exclamation of excitement to play with them. Exchanging a quick glance with the other two adults in the room, you let Tommy and Billy hold your hand and lead you upstairs, Luna following behind.

//-//

Non Reader’s Pov

As soon as the children were completely up the stairs, Pietro let out a giggle that attracted his sister's attention.

"What?" Wanda asked.

"Oh, nothing." He replied with a little smile. And only when he and Wanda were in the kitchen, intent on preparing lunch, did he add. "I like her."

"Shut up." Mumbled Wanda with reddened cheeks, understanding exactly what Pietro meant.

The man laughed again, walking over to stand next to his sister and chop some vegetables while she stirred the pots.

"I'll just say one more thing about it, and I promise I'll wait until you feel comfortable telling me." He says and seeing his sister's lack of response, he continues. "It's really good to see you smiling again. I'm glad you're moving on."

"Pietro..."

"Hey." The man interrupts his sister who looks clearly uncomfortable. He drops the knife he picked up to cut carrots and approaches her, holding her hands.

"There's nothing wrong with that." He says tenderly.

"Stop saying those things." Wanda asks releasing her hands to run her fingers through her hair, sighing as she leaned against the sink, breathing deeply. "I don't... I have the boys to take care of, I don't even have time to think about those kinds of things right now."

Pietro sighs, shaking his head.

"You know what, Wanda?" He begins. "Ever since we were kids, all you've done is take care of someone. You took care of babushka, and mamochka. You took care of me all my life, and then you got married and Vis joined the list too. Then came the twins." He said, and Wanda frowned, not understanding where the conversation was going, but Pietro's firm tone encouraged her not to interrupt. "When Vis died, you needed to breathe, and I really didn't mind helping you take care of the boys. But what about you. Wanda? If you're looking out for everyone else, who's looking out for you?"

"I..."

But Wanda doesn't know what to say. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, and Pietro sighs slightly, smiling to reassure his sister.

"You've been through hell the last few months, Wands." He adds. "There's nothing wrong with wanting some heaven."

"You're getting so cheesy, P." Wanda mumbles with flushed cheeks, causing Pietro to laugh lightly. The woman wiped a few tears from her face, and sniffled before shaking her head. "Come on, enough of this talk. The children must be starving."

"Yes, ma'am."

They prepare lunch in silence for a few moments. It is only when Pietro hands Wanda the cut vegetables to throw into the pot, that she remembers to ask about what happened at the party with Y/N and Tommy.

"Oh, she ran into him in the office." Pietro counters. "I think he was feeling sick again. I found them in the kitchen, eating some hot dogs. You were lucky to find a girl who does very well with children, eh?"

Wanda smiles with reddened cheeks, nudging her brother lightly with her shoulders as she mumbles at him to shut up.

//-//

Reader Pov’s

You sat on one of the twins' beds as they filled your lap with toys.

Doing your best to follow all the lines and get on with the fun, you pretended to drink imaginary tea when Tommy handed you a cup, and made a funny voice when Billy asked you to pretend to be a policewoman. Then Luna asked you to imitate a dragon and you spread your arms, running around the room behind the three of them.

Several minutes later, they got into a game of pretend play and forgot all about you, so you looked around at the posters, not sure if you should leave them alone.

Looking around, your gaze caught the pictures on the boys' dresser, and you smiled as you ran your fingers across the pictures.

You bit the inside of your cheek when you picked up one of the frames, the picture of the whole family in it.

"Careful not to break it." You heard Billy say out loud to you. From the tone, it sounded like something Wanda probably said to him a few times.

"I promise I won't break it." You assure him with a smile, turning your gaze to the photograph.

It is probably the picture of the day when the kids came back from the hospital. Wanda is holding one of them, and a tall, blond man is holding the other baby. They have contented smiles on their faces as they wave to whoever was taking the picture.

"Were you friends with dad too?" Tommy asked suddenly. You were slightly surprised to realize that he had stood up and was standing next to you.

"No, Tommy." You respond by stooping down to his height. "I didn't know your father."

"Did you know he died?" He asked next, shifting his gaze to the floor. You held your breath before letting go.

"Yes."

"Mom said that dying means you don't come home anymore." Tommy said and you felt your heart tighten.

"Yeah, honey."

"I miss daddy." Tommy confesses next, and you feel your own eyes fill with water at the scene. But not wanting to make him nervous, you swallow your emotion and smile weakly to calm him down.

"Yeah, I know you do." You tell him, extending your hand toward him for him to hold if he wants. When he accepts, you squeeze it lightly. "But the people we love never really leave us. When you think of your daddy, you feel a little pain in your chest don't you?" You ask and Tommy nods in agreement. "That's the part of your father in you. The love you feel for him stays inside your chest now. Before, you could spread that love with hugs and kisses and smiles. But now you have to keep it to yourself." You say tenderly, and Tommy seems to absorb your words. Billy and Luna are also listening to the conversation and look at you as they sit on the floor in front of a dollhouse. "Do you understand what I say?"

Tommy nods. "Yes, I'm already five."

You chuckle lightly at the quick response.

"I don't want to keep love in my chest." He grumbles. "I want daddy back."

You swallow dryly, watching the thick tears stream down the boy's face. Your gaze quickly catches Billy's, and he is crying, too.

"I'm sorry, kids." You say reaching out to wipe away the tears of the boy in front of you. "That's how death works. It's not fair, and it hurts. But that's what happens. But you all aren't alone, okay? You can always hug your mommy, and your aunt and uncle, and me too if it hurts too much.”

Tommy sniffles and throws his arms around you. You hug him back, hoping he will calm down. It doesn't take long before Luna and Billy join you.

You want to make them feel better, so you open your arms as wide as you can to squeeze them all together, and wait a few minutes before you make a noise with your mouth like a monster. And it works very well, because the next moment they are laughing.

You let them go so that they run, and you laugh as you chase them around the house. When Wanda yells from downstairs for them to come to lunch, you change direction so that they dash downstairs.

"No running on the stairs!" You quickly warn. "The monster catches those who run on the stairs. You need to go slowly."

The children exchange quick glances and then obey. You pretend to walk in slow motion so that they come down without hurrying. They run again as soon as they get down, making you laugh.

Downstairs, Wanda guides everyone to the kitchen table. You exchange a quick glance with her, putting your hands in your pockets.

"You're going to have lunch with us right?" Wanda asks with a smile. You bite your lip, thoughtfully. "Please say yes." She adds the request making you laugh lightly.

"But then I need to leave." You say with a raised finger in jest, Wanda smiles, nodding in understanding, and taking your hand to pull you into the kitchen.

Neither of you mind the look Pietro casts at your linked hands as Wanda leads you to the table.

//-//

Your week goes by very slowly.

At group therapy on Wednesday, Stephen brings games, and it is as much fun as any other time. Before you leave for lunch with Wanda, Stephen asks to speak with you both.

"I have some questions about your checklist." He says as the gymnasium empties out and you guys help him put the chairs away. "I noticed that you crossed out all the questions about grief." He begins, and you and Wanda exchange a look. "But of course it's okay, it's not a script to be followed really, it's just ideas to break the ice. And you guys are making progress, so as long as it's working for you, it's working for us."

"Stephen you are diverting from the subject." You grumble with your hands in your pockets, and the man laughs.

"Sorry." He says as he finishes folding the metal chairs in the corner of the gym. "I imagine you also realize that you have completed the vast majority of your monthly goals. With the exception of one."

You sigh, looking away. Stephen tries to smile to reassure you.

"I understand that this is difficult for you." He speaks again. "And you should also know that it's not mandatory, okay, but I would like you to try."

You swallow dryly, and it takes a moment, but you nod in agreement.

"I will." You say. "But I need time. I'm not going to drive off the first time."

"Don't worry about deadlines." He interrupts. "Find a way that works for you. Besides, you won't be doing this alone."

Stephen gives you both an encouraging look, and you take a deep breath trying not to overthink his request. When he nods in farewell, Wanda holds your hand and stands in front of you.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asks and you smile, running your gaze over her face.

"Only if you stay with me."

She smiles. "I will."

You both walk outside next.

//-//

During the following week, you set small goals with Wanda regarding her house.

Wanda is always home alone in the morning, because the kids go to school. And since you don't do anything at home, you come to spend the morning with her.

On the first day, you leave her house five minutes before the time she usually pick up the kids. You smile, hug Wanda goodbye, and tell her she can take being alone for five minutes. She catches up with you at the front door, shaking as she hugs your back. You don't have the heart to leave her alone after that, and you go with her to pick up the boys at school.

On the second day, you try again. Five minutes of solitude. Wanda is nervous as you walk out the door, but she doesn't follow you. You smile proudly as you leave.

On the third day, you leave ten minutes early. And then fifteen. Then twenty. By the third week, Wanda can be alone for hours. On week four, you don't come.

Wanda calls you, laughing and crying, saying that everything is all right. That she can breathe, and that she is not panicking anymore. And you also cry and laugh while telling her that you are proud of her.

You have started writing again by then.

Because you needed to find something to keep you busy while you were at her house and Wanda worked from home with the administration of the flower shop, and she didn't mind you bringing some books and your laptop to try to write something.

For the first few days you just watched television, occasionally chatting with Wanda when she came to ask if everything was okay and if you were comfortable before going back to her study room. But then you run your fingers through the photographs of the house and get an idea about a small story. It's brief, and simple, but it's sweet and the first thing you've written in a long time. Wanda loves it when you show it to her, and you laugh shyly when she puts the paper on the refrigerator door.

You call Darcy the second week you are helping Wanda. Your colleague is happy to hear that you are working again, and even happier to hear that you will accept the contract. It's a quick thing, and the timing is good, just what you need to get used to again. Wanda sets up a second desk in her office and you smile in appreciation, saying that she would get tired of your presence like this, but she assures you that that would never happen. You enjoy having her company while you write.

Soon you tell her that you are ready to try driving again. And Wanda sighs, saying that she is also ready to go back to the flower shop.

You agree that after she drops the kids off at school, she will pick you up at home with her car, and you will go to the flower shop together. And you can try to drive her car on the way back.

"Everything okay?" You ask Wanda when you arrive in front of the establishment. The flower shop is very nice, even from the outside you can tell. It is a small brown building, with many vases and floral decorations outside, and a sign at the entrance. You can see Monica at the counter through the glass but she is distracted by a customer and doesn't notice you two at the door.

"Yeah, I just...I just need a moment." Wanda clarifies looking at you quickly. She takes a deep breath, and then enters.

"Wanda!" Monica greets you two cheerfully as soon as the customer leaves, and you two approach her around the counter. The woman quickly hugs Wanda, who laughs lightly. "I am so happy to see you here again. And look at that, I think even the flowers have cheered up."

You smile at the interaction, letting your gaze wander around afterwards.

Flowers are not exactly something you know well, but you think they are very beautiful. And you absolutely love photographs of flower arrangements, and flowers in nature.

"And how are you, Y/N?" Monica asks loudly, attracting your attention. You take your eyes off the white flower in front of you to smile at her.

"I'm good, Monica." You reply. "It's good to see you again. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah." She says gently fiddling with some vases. Wanda disappears beyond the back doors, probably getting used to being around again. "It's been pretty quiet today, so I've had plenty of time to look around the web page."

You smile in understanding. You knew that Monica had an online store that she and Pietro ran, but you couldn't remember exactly what they sold, so you didn't comment on it. But you were glad to know that she was taking the time to check out the shop even though she was working at Wanda's flower store.

"Are you going to stick around today?" she asks next, and you put your hands in your pockets.

"I don't really know." You reply. "If Wanda stays then I'll stay."

Monica raises her eyebrows suggestively, impressed by your words. You feel your face heat up.

"B-because she's my ride." You clarify quickly, and Monica lets out a chuckle, turning to take a vase in her hands and move it around the place.

"Got it." She murmurs humorously.

Wanda joins you next, her purse was no longer with her, and you figured she was ready to work then.

"Mon, I'm going to stay in the back today, okay?" She says to Monica, who just nods encouragingly. Wanda looks at you hesitantly. "Is it okay if I leave you alone?"

You laugh lightly.

"Don't worry, Wands." You tell her. "I'm here for you. Do what you have to do."

"I'll keep you company, honey." Monica adds with amusement. Wanda laughs, glancing one last time at you before turning toward the office. You look at the other woman next. "Tell me, have you ever tended a garden before?"

//-//

You are washing the dirt from your hands when Wanda finishes. She was only inside the small office for at most three hours, much less than a normal workload, but you don't say anything and Monica doesn't care either.

After thanking Mon for teaching you how to grow a garden, you say goodbye to her with a kiss on the cheek, wishing her a good rest of her shift, and leave with Wanda from the flower shop. You were anxious because you are going to be in the driver's seat now.

Wanda left the car in the supermarket parking lot at the corner of the place, at this time the surroundings were relatively empty.

You two were standing facing the driver's door.

"Here we are." She said beside you. You took a deep breath.

"Here we are." You repeated her words.

Wanda slipped one of her arms around your waist, hugging you from the side, waiting for you to be ready to open the door. And it took a moment until you did.

As soon as you sat down in the driver's seat, Wanda turned around the car and got in, sitting next to you in the passenger seat.

Your heart was racing, and you were static. When you risked looking down, you had a flash of memories, and your breath hitched and your eyes filled with tears. Wanda noticed, and reached for your hand quickly. You sat there in silence for about forty minutes until you stopped crying.

"Sorry, I'm wasting your time." You muttered breathlessly, and Wanda shook her head, squeezing your hand and raising the other to make you look at her. She stroked your cheek tenderly as she spoke.

"Don't say that. I want to be here and help you." She whispers while wiping your tears with her thumb. "As you have done for me."

You sniffled, trying to smile a little. Wanda just looked at you as you closed your eyes, trying to normalize your breathing.

"Let's try again tomorrow, okay?" Wanda murmurs to you. You gasp slightly, agreeing.

Then you switched places, and Wanda drove you home. You mumbled a thank you, giving the woman a long kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car. You didn't notice how she squeezed the steering wheel and her face flushed when your lips touched her skin.

//-//

[scuttle-buttle]

WC: 1104

Rated: T (to be on the safe side)

Tags: fluff, family dynamics, mentions of child abuse, mentions of medical emergency (there is none), hurt/comfort

🧠

The sound of banging and running around downstairs caught Laszlo’s attention. Sophia was on a playdate with one of her school friends, so he couldn’t imagine why someone would be making such a ruckus downstairs. At the slam of another door he let his worries get the better of him. Quickly he sets down his pen and stands up.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs he sees Stevie, a backpack slung across his shoulders, and looking like he’d been swept up by a tornado. The teen had been with the family almost a year now, after you and the professor legally adopted him the previous July. “What’s the rush, Stevie?”

The boy barely pauses. “Just going out with some friends, I'll be back later!” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Hold on a moment-” Stevie turns on his heel and waits as Laszlo descends into the foyer. The two stand at eye level; at the rate he was going the teen would be taller than Laszlo by summer's end. “Who are these friends?” Laszlo didn’t mean to interrogate him, but this was the first he’d heard of the teen going out.

“Just Joseph and Paulie. I already cleared it with the Missus and she just said I gotta be back before 10.” He looks down to check his messages on his cell phone before typing out a quick response.

“I see…” Laszlo couldn’t fault the boy. He was 16 and wanted to have fun with others his own age - it was crucial to his socio-emotional development. It had been a bit of a rocky start when Stevie first joined the family. He had few friends, and those that he did were often less than savory or caught up in many of the old schemes of his biological father. You both helped him get away from that life. But nothing was ever perfect. Laszlo understood the need to rebel as a teenager, hell, he’d done it himself to spite his father countless times. He trusted Stevie, yet he did what good fathers do: worry.

Taking a step closer he tells him “well, in that case have fun. Should anything happen, call us - I do mean anything, Stevie. And you know the rules, no-”

“-No drinking, no drugs, and no smoking, I know. I promise.” Stevie rolls his eyes halfheartedly, but follows with a serious nod.

Laszlo bit back his grin, patting the boy on the back. “Then I suppose we will see you later, if not in the morning.” He takes out a 20 dollar bill from his wallet; “for pizza.”

Stevie flings the door open with a woosh and snatches the money in a flourish ; “thanks, bye dad!” The door shuts with a bang.

Bye dad.

Laszlo blinks.

Bye dad.

His breath catches, his heart refuses to beat for a second. His feet are glued to the floor.

Bye dad.

He watches the unmoving mahogany of his front door, as if the swirling patterns in the wood and glass will bring some sort of clarity to his frozen mind.

Bye dad.

Dad.

You finish setting up the crock pot with tonight's roast, and head off to find your husband. It wasn’t often, if ever at this point, that the two of you had the house to yourselves. You wanted to make use of it. Leaving the kitchen you see him standing in the foyer, facing the door. “Laz…” you call out in a sing-song voice.

The first clue that something is wrong is that he’s not moving.

“Laz?” You step up beside him. He doesn’t look at you. Your first thought is that he’s had some sort of stroke or some medical emergency - he’s not that old per say, but shit happens. Studying his face you see pursed lips and a furrowed brow. “Laszlo? What’s going on? Hey...” You grab his bicep and squeeze. A single tear escapes him; he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. The doctor clears his throat.

“Stevie, he….” Laszlo swallows thickly, the words escaping him still.

Now you panic for the boy that was within your walls and fine not five minutes ago when you last saw him. “Didn’t he just leave? Was he okay? I’m not..?”

“He…” your husband clears his throat again, giving the hint of a sniffle as he scratches the side of his nose. In a rough whisper he explains “he called me dad.” His watery eyes meet yours before darting away and then back again. “I don’t know if he realizes that he… or if he even meant it in that way but…”

“Oh sweetie,” you cup his face in your hands, brushing away the fallen tear with your thumb. “I think he did mean it, how could he not? Even if it was an in the moment kind of thing it means he still thinks of you like that, like his dad.” You move to wrap your arms around Laszlo. He melts into your embrace after a few seconds.

“Growing up my father and I… we never…” He huffs against your ear. “It was never like this. I wanted to make him proud of me but I knew I never could - I wanted to have a relationship that was more than being a reminder of his mistakes, I-” he pauses as he gathers himself. “I feel I shouldn't be so overcome, given we have Sophia but I…” His tears dampen your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less.

“No, Laz I get it. With Stevie it is different. What you have with Stevie is beautiful and exactly what you should’ve been able to have yourself when you were young." Fingers carding through his hair you continue; "you are giving him the life - the love - you were deprived of. And that’s…” you shake your head, finding yourself overwhelmed with emotion, “that’s something that he’s going to remember the rest of his life. About how loved and cherished and cared for he was by you. And he’s going to do the same for you."

Laszlo nodded into your neck, his silver-tinged beard scratching at the delicate skin. Gently you pull his face out from your shoulder to place a light kiss to his lips.

The two of you stood like that, simply holding each other close and foreheads touching, for several minutes. It was enough for Laszlo to settle his emotions. You spent the remainder of the afternoon cuddled together on the couch watching reruns of your favorite show on Netflix. At one point he fell asleep with his head in your lap.

And the next time Stevie calls Laszlo dad - he's ready.

Tag list 

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @that-one-fandom-kid @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @uncomfortablebagel @rachelicouss @wisia02 

[shreddedparchment]

Spa Day

03/04/2021

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader          Word Count: 7,559

Warnings: language, depression, past abuse, emotional abuse, fluff

A/N: I wrote this because I have been feeling pretty down on myself. It’s pure self indulgence to make me feel better. I hope it will help someone else and if not, I hope you at least get a smile or some entertainment from reading it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You’re awkward, walking in. Feeling out of place.

This place was for special people. Well, people who mattered.

You’re not sure how you got the voucher. It all happened so quickly.

One minute you were sitting in Mr. Wayne’s office, twiddling your thumbs to expend some nervous energy as you awaited your firing then the next you were being shoved out his office door with a gentle but firm hand at the center of your back.

Mr. Wayne had smiled, his face relaxed and amused.

“It expires soon, so use it tomorrow,” he’d said.

“I work tomorrow,” you’d resisted, no intention of losing a full day’s paid work.

“Take the day. On me. Full pay,” As you opened your mouth to protest again, he quickly lifted his hand to silence you politely and tacked on, “There’s no use arguing with me. Now enjoy it or you’re fired.”

He’d shut the heavy wooden door in your face leaving you standing there, stunned. At a loss to think up a reason to not come here today but obviously you’ve failed seeing as you’re here.

“Good morning!” A young woman with soft to the touch looking blonde hair smiles at you from behind the modern pale wooden counter. The white marble top shines in your eyes.

“Hi. Morning,” you sputter.

“How can we help you today?”

She’s so nice. So polite. Professional. This place is super expensive looking. There’s a crystal chandelier behind you at the center of the small lobby space. Chic sofas line the wall behind you, large pots with dragon trees growing tall add a splash of color to the otherwise sterile and plain gray walls.

Despite its minimalist decor, the office exudes money.

You’re almost at the brink of following the impulse that wants to turn you towards the tinted glass door, but before you can make your escape, the receptionist’s kind voice interrupts you.

“Oh! You have one of our platinum vouchers! Lucky you,” she smiles, genuine in her glee. “Shall I take that?”

She holds out her hands, both of them and waits for you to place the thick and shiny ticket-like paper in them.

Quickly she gives it a read, turning it over and then placing it under a UV light by her computer. An image shines out from under the purple light of a shimmering diamond right at the center of the ticket.

“You’ve got the works. Was it a gift?” She looks up at you, not intending to insult you but you can’t help but feel a little stung by her assumption.

You can’t really blame her though. You reserve all of your best outfits for work. Casual yet distinguished pantsuits and skirts with matching tops or jackets.

Today you’ve chosen a simple floor length skirt. It sits snugly around your waist and hips. Your t-shirt, a simple graphic tee with the words “Touch the Radley House YOLO” printed in bold black letters.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit to the girl, wishing she’d just sign you in and let you go about your day. “My boss gave it to me.”

“Lucky, lucky. You must have a really nice boss,” she admires.

“Well, I lost his company nearly a hundred million dollars and he didn’t fire me, so…” you trail off, still lost as to why Mr. Wayne had been so adamant you take some time off and why he’d been so understanding about the Ronson account.

“Oh,” the girl says, blinking a few times as she tries to process what you just said. “A very nice boss then.”

Her conclusion brings a small smile to your lips because truthfully, Mr. Wayne is very kind. You’ve never heard him berate an employee and he’s usually only tough on his business associates. Members of his board and investors. Like Mr. Ronson.

If he wasn’t so out of your league, you’d even consider maybe letting yourself really look at him. He’s hot for sure, but he always seems so preoccupied. Like he has something he’s trying to keep buried.

Nice, but he has secrets. No one’s perfect.

“Well, we’ve got you all booked in. What you’ll want to do is head in through that door on your right, walk halfway down the hall and the lounge room should be there to your left. Someone will come and escort you to your first experience.”

You observe her vernacular. Every word she speaks is rehearsed and probably scripted to a certain point.

“Thank you,” you give her another small smile, still feeling out of place but a little more at ease.

“Enjoy!” she calls as you cross through the heavy wooden door.

It swings shut behind you silently, a soft hiss at it latches.

The hallway before you is just as simple yet chic as the lobby. The colors are less neutral, a calming turquoise with a black base and a thick silver stripe lining the center of the wall at about waist height.

The doors are pale wood, smooth to the touch. You pass several of them as you make your way to the lounge.

Inside the door to your left at the center of the hall you find the lounge room. Which actually turns out to be a locker room. Smaller than what you would have thought with only about fifteen lockers that look more like small safes. Each one has a digital keypad, a fingerprint reader, and an iris scanner.

“Sheesh…” you observe but pick one and move over to it to set up your passcode, fingerprint, and scan your eye so that you can come get your stuff when your day of relaxation is over.

Inside the locker you find a neatly folded outfit wrapped in sanitary plastic. Completely sealed.

Just in case you’re wrong about this being a spot where you can change, you look for a designated changing area but don’t find one.

With no other choice, you place your purse and keys inside the locker, then slowly begin to strip. Shoes, skirt underwear go into the locker but your nerves don’t let you remove your t-shirt just yet. Untucked from your skirt, it’s easier to tell that it’s intentionally oversized.

After another quick anxious look at the door you’d come in through, you hook your hands into the base of your shirt and pull it up...just as the door opens and a large clearly male body steps in.

You gasp, whirling around in surprise to reclothe your breasts.

Cool air blows against your bottom as your shirt also twists with your movement, but you reach back and yank it down.

“Oh, I am...uh, didn’t see anything?” The voice is deep, smooth. It puts you at ease even though you literally just exposed yourself to a complete stranger.

“No, no. It’s fine,” you tell him, voice strained with embarrassment. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know if there was a separate changing room. I just...didn’t see any.”

“Oh, um...it’s the door right across the hall. But you know what? I’ll actually just step right outside and let you finish.”

That’s so nice…”You don’t have to, I can just-”

You turn around to look at him, keeping your hands on your shirt to pull it down. One at the front. One behind.

Simultaneously, though you don’t notice, both your and his jaw drop.

It takes both of you a moment to find your voices and while he speaks, your mind is busy taking in his massive size.

He’s thick. Muscles bulking through the should-be loose wrap top he’s wearing. Like yours it’s a soft peach color, the same diamond shape you’d seen on your voucher under the UV light etched into the right breast.

With the top he wears loose pants, or somewhat loose around his knee and down to his ankles; there’s a pair of charcoal slippers on his feet. His thighs, like his arms and chest strain against the clothes he’d been given.

It’s clearly too small. You wonder if maybe this place doesn’t carry the outfit in his size. It’s very possible, considering his girth.

“Miss?”

His slightly concerned expression brings you back to yourself, now flustered because he’s caught you gawking at him.

“Sorry, I’m-you just surprised me and my brain’s a little-what did you say?”

“I’ll just step outside,” he doesn’t wait for you to respond as he backs up to the door then pulls it open and disappears through it, closing it gently behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” you gasp, angry at yourself for staring.

He’s hot! You couldn’t help it. He also looks familiar, though you can’t place the face. How you could possibly forget a face like that you have no idea.

While you change, you think about the smaller things you’d notice.

His hair is dark. Black. Curls that are carefully kept in place with hair products. His skin is a perfect pale peach. Not so pink as the clothes you’re pulling on, but it falls under the same shade. There didn’t seem to be a single blemish from what you were able to see.

A small tuft of chest hair had been peeking out of the V of the top. His face had been perfect, yes, but kind. There was a gentleness in it. The small curve of a smile had played on his rosebud pink lips. Not thin. Not thick. They were perfect.

He was perfect.

And those eyes...so blue. Like a clear spring sky. So bright and observant. There’s no way he didn’t catch you staring. Shit.

You note as you shove your underclothes into your locker out of where he might see them, that your own outfit for this spa leaves even less to the imagination than what must be the male uniforms.

Where the handsome stranger had pants, you were given very small shorts. Little more than boy short underwear in length. Parts of your bottom were threatening to overflow.

The top, while similar to the one the stranger wore, also came with a bandeau given the unique look of being wrapped around your chest when it so clearly is just one piece. You were expected to wear this underneath the looser wrap top.

Pulling it shut, you’re still tying the top closed around your waist as you hurry to the door where the stranger must still be waiting.

You open it...but he’s gone.

Disappointment floods through you. Surprising you.

You have no reason to want to see him, but you suppose you had just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness.

With a sigh you shut the door and move back to your locker to shove the rest of your belongings in just as a kind looking young woman no older than the receptionist at the front desk comes in with a smile.

“Are we ready for the diamond experience? You’re a very lucky lady!”

Even though you’re still only halfway sure you even want to go through with this whole thing, her excitement is catching and you find yourself nodding and scurrying after her as she shows you down the hall for your all expense paid spa day.

~~~~~~~~~~

You aren’t used to relaxation.

Not to this degree.

A gold facial? Full body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian kama oil? A rain massage which consisted of you being massaged with several different clays as warm water is cascaded down your body? An herbal bath with murky green water that leaves your skin feeling fresh--like mint but for your skin?

It’s too much!

You’re four hours into your spa session and you’re so sleepy you might pass out in this next one.

As you’re escorted by the same young lady who has been tending to you from the beginning, she opens the door of a long room, the outer wall of which is made up of endless glass panels that catch the rays of the sun.

As you step in, you’re assaulted by immediate drowsiness as your entire being is engulfed in slightly sticky heat.

This isn’t a sauna. It won’t make you sweat buckets. But it makes your skin dewy and your eyes droop.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, suddenly wanting to run before you can collapse to the floor in unconsciousness.

Your escort laughs, “The hot room has that effect on all of our guests. Come, it looks like we’ve got a spot free over at the far end.”

Along this wall of glass, there are lounge chairs with soft cushions grouped in twos, separated by a lattice waterfall panel that tinkles pleasantly as it empties down into a bed of soft pebbles. On the table at the head of these seats is a pitcher of water, glasses, and a set of small handheld fans that one can use to cool off a bit in the heat. Just in case it becomes too much, you guess. Though you can’t imagine it will. The heat isn’t oppressive. Just consuming.

It’s everywhere but it’s not choking or frustrating.

“I hope you don’t mind if we put you next to one of our other single guests? Most of our diamond packages are used by couples, as you can see.”

Your escorts gestures at the chairs as you pass them and sure enough, every seat is taken with couples hiding behind large potted fan palms.

“No, I don’t mind,” you answer in single, as if you have any choice. “How long will I be in here?”

“An hour or so? If you’d like to exit early, there is a small button on the table by your lounge. Press it and I will come take you to your next experience,” she looks back and smiles at you.

You notice that you pass three spots without lounge seats and wonder silently why some of them have been removed. At the end of these empties is where the escort stops. A set of lounges in the very last spot against the wall.

“Here you are,” your escort smiles. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her and squeeze between the potted palms.

Slightly nervous, you look for your unintended partner and gasp at the Adonis you’d thought you’d lost.

The sound draws his attention and his expression shifts from stoic concentration to soft smile, “Hey, it’s you again.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice because you’re too busy gawking again.

He’s not wearing a shirt or pants. That is, he’s wearing shorts. A lot longer than yours, reaching about the top of his thighs, but still short. Like briefs. It gives you a good view of every single muscle in his long legs and you suddenly envy anyone that’s ever had the privilege to ride that thigh.

What the fuck am I thinking?! You give our head a shake and try to focus on his face as he waits. It’s only a second too late.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I-” you avert your eyes and quickly take a seat in your own lounge chair to his left, keeping your eyes on anything other than the mass that is his chest.

Just as you’d thought, it’s covered in a mouthwatering line of chest hair that trailers down onto his stomach and makes an ever so subtle trail down, down, down...down...down…

He chuckles, “It’s alright. It’s only fair you get a good look too, right?”

You’re not even processing what he’s saying, unable to focus for a bit.

“You’re here alone?” It’s more an observation than a question but you answer anyway, grasping at the distraction.

“Yes,” you nod. “A gift from my boss.”

“Me too,” he turns a little in his seat so that he can look at you, but adjusting his angle so that he can still keep his legs up, one propped up as he rests his elbow on his knee. The other stretched out before him.

This draws your gaze back to him and you’re able to pay attention this time and ignore his very distracting body.

“Oh?”

“I mean, not my boss, but it was a gift from a friend. He thought I could use a nice relaxing day.”

The way he says it, sounds like you’re not the only one saddled with what you perceived was a burden or at the very least, a waste of time.

You grin, “Mine too. My boss. I saved the company I work with from a scandal and his idea of repaying me was to give me a spa day. A raise would have been more than enough.”

“Tell me about it,” the man says, smiling with stunning pearly whites.

His smile is gorgeous and you’re enamored again by how sweet he looks.

How can someone look like he can tear the head off a rhino and still look so adorable? It can’t be fair.

“Rent keeps going up and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough to keep up. At this rate I might end up having to move back to the farm.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, piecing together where he might have grown his sculpted figure. Farm work can be grueling.

He gives you a look, assessing your response then waves his hand gently as if to swat away his complaint, “Sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ve got it better than most. You don’t need to be hearing about my problems.”

“No!” you rush to assuage his worry. “No, it’s okay. That sucks about your job. Is there no chance at a raise?”

“Not exactly, I have a uh, a hobby that keeps me from taking more work and I kind of get paid by assignment. I have a flat salary but working extra would definitely help with the bills.”

“What do you do?” you wonder, trying to picture this guy doing anything other than just looking like a God in a spa.

He could be a bodyguard? They get assignments. Construction? Personal trainer?

“I’m a journalist,” he tells you, speaking matter-of-factly as if it makes perfect sense.

You blink, then chuckle and then laugh once.

“What?” he asks, amused and smiling again as you chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just, journalist is not where my mind went.”

He doesn’t seem surprised but he also doesn’t say anything else.

The two of you lapse into silence. It’s not uncomfortable and at least you don’t feel like you need to say anything to fill the dead air.

Twenty minutes pass and you lean back in your chair to relax, sighing lightly and smiling at the immaculate aura that this stranger seems to emanate.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

The longer you lay there, suddenly not sleepy at all, the more your curiosity grows. Turning towards him, you find him already looking at you.

This startles you but in a good way. You smile and the soft curve of his lips breaks into a full toothed smile.

Both of you move your lips to speak, but before you can either of you get a word in a rustle of palm leaves pulls both your attentions behind your seats.

You sit up, twisting a little to look at who’s come, expecting to see your escort or some other spa staff.

Instead you find a woman you’d spotted laying in another spot with who you’d thought was the other half of her couple. Her waist-length auburn hair clings to the skin of her bare shoulders and sides. She’s removed her top, leaving her in her bandeau.

“Hi,” she says to your stranger-wait not your stranger. Shoot.

He looks confused but not unfriendly, “Hello.”

“My friend finally talked me into coming over and talking to you,” she informs him.

“I see,” your-the stranger says.

The girl seems to be expecting something but the stranger just looks up at her expectantly. Awkwardly.

He looks at you and you quickly turn away from their conversation, pushing yourself to the end of the lounge to sit with your hands holding onto the edge, feet flat on the ground.

You try not to eavesdrop but they’re right there.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her, sounded polite but not uninterested.

You can hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, probably pushing her hips from side to side. Her figure is nice. Not like yours. She’s attractive, in a conventional way. In a magazine accepted way.

Your mood sinks the longer you ponder on this random girl and the stranger. There’s an endless string of disappointments that have built you into this person you are.

Insecurities made worse by words spoken by people that should have supported you or those you thought were on your side. Affections misplaced. Kindness taken advantage of. Betrayal. Worst of all the betrayal. Some small. Some big.

You know that you should be less shaky in your self worth. You know that you’re more than the words spoken and the actions taken that brought you to this point. But how do you turn it off? How to fight the thoughts that bring you down?

It’s not something you can do all at once. You know this. And yet feeling bad about yourself makes you feel guilty because you know it’s bad and that makes you feel worse. It’s an endless cycle.

You’re fully wallowing in your own self-pity before the girl even has a chance to answer the stranger’s question.

“Well, I noticed you came by yourself and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner sometime? Or maybe coffee?”

You don’t dare turn back, you just resign yourself to a lack of luck and stare out at nothing even though the view is really nice.

“Thank, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for a date right now, I don’t really have the time,” the stranger says, giving her a diplomatic response.

Letting her down without letting her down.

“Oh, well,” there’s a beat of silence. “In case you change your mind, here’s my number. Call me, if you find some time?”

You hear her retreat and the soft shift of what must be a business card against the wood of the table behind the stranger’s chair.

Movement shifts in your periphery and you see that the stranger has moved to the end of his own lounge, mimicking your pose though he’s much bulkier and takes up much more space.

“That was weird,” he says, a small puff of air passing between his lips as he huffs a laugh.

“Why?”

“Well, she just came up to me, out of nowhere,” he clarifies.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to you.”

The stranger seems to pick up on your mood shift, his face etched with concern as he tries to lean forward, head tilted a little as he strains for a better look at your face.

“Actually, that never happens to me,” he says. A lie?

“How about you?” he checks, probing gently to see if he can get you to talk.

“No. Never.”

“But you’re so-”

“I’m nothing,” you interrupt, the words an automatic response as if you’ve been hypnotized into saying those words exactly. A trained response.

The silence is no longer comfortable, but thick and heavy.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’m nobody.”

It hurts to speak these words aloud. Words that have hurt you in the past. Words that have cut you time and again. Scars left behind by those people that should have loved you but didn’t.

“No one is nobody,” the stranger counters.

He watches you, observing.

You don’t like the front row seat he has to your wallowing. You try to pull yourself out of it but the hole just keeps getting deeper.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, stealing a quick glance at him.

He’s still got his head tilted a little in pure concentration as he watches you, brow crinkled with focus.

It’s not judgement though, just intent. You can tell he’s really listening and it makes your heart flutter. No one has ever listened to you before. Not like this. Not with a deep desire to understand like he does.

He shakes his head, “Was it the girl coming over?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed, “She reminded me of someone I knew. Someone I dated.”

Nodding, he indicates that he’s listening.

You smile without humor, hurt by the memory, “He thought I should look like her. Or...he didn’t say exactly like her, but he said he wished I looked better.”

He frowns, his deep dislike for your story honest, “He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t like, evil or anything, but yeah. Not a nice guy,” you admit, accepting that in that case, it was definitely your boyfriend’s problem.

“But that’s not it?”

You look at him.

“There’s more to it?” he guesses.

You look out at the scenic view finally, not really seeing it but appreciating the colors at least.

“This spa day?” you begin, stealing another glance at him.

He turns to sit facing you, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as his listening intensifies.

“The only reason I got it was because as I said before I saved the company I work for from being dragged into scandal. I also lost a bunch of money by losing the client but my boss was pretty pleased.

“But the only reason I even touched the account was because I was sorta forced to?” Is that the best way to describe what happened?

“How were you forced to deal with that account?”

“Well, I’m not exactly the best with making friends? I mean, I have had friends before. I just--I got really sick a while back and I lost most of them because I cancelled on plans a lot or I didn’t have the energy to maintain contact? Even texting felt like such a chore. Just the act of responding and-I guess they thought that I thought being friends with them was a chore, and that wasn’t it.

“I just couldn’t find the energy to try to do anything. Some days I wouldn’t even eat because I’d have to get up and make myself food and I barely got up to go to the bathroom much less make a meal.

“Anyway, I just kind of gave up and they did to and now, I don’t really have an in with people? I don’t say much and it’s not that I don’t want to talk, I just don’t have anything worth saying. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything? I don’t know. But it affects work relationships too.”

“How?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, looking down at your hands clinging to the edge of the lounge before releasing it slowly.

“It’s really just me getting in my feelings,” you shrug.

“What you feel is what you feel, even if you don’t think you should. Our pasts can affect us well into our futures.”

His encouragement helps, and you feel a little less vulnerable to share with him.

“I work in the PR department. There are six of us in total. We’re a pretty big company. Multinational big. So there’s one of us for every form of media. Since we all work for the same clients, bridging the gap, we usually spread the workload evenly.

“Or, the other five members of my team do. Sometimes they just forget that I’m there and I usually get stuck with the leftover work. I’m not one to complain, so-” you shrug. “But they forget me for other stuff too. Company dinners. Competitions for prizes in the office. Secret Santa. Stuff like that.

“It makes me feel alone.”

You chance a glance at him, and he’s still watching you but his eyes are far away for a bit as if he’s remembering something.

“I know how that feels,” he nods. “I’ve felt alone almost all my life in some ways. Luckily, I’ve made a few friends to help me see things a little differently but that loneliness will never really go away.

“I understand.”

You smile, feeling more and more at peace again with him. Calm, like he really does get it.

He responds to the shift in your expression by relaxing his own. A small crinkle forms at the corners of his eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.

Now that you’re both feeling a little better, you can admit to yourself that you were jealous. Not just because the girl was everything that you were made to think you should be, but because this stranger, gorgeous as he is, is so nice.

He’s sweet and you want that in your next partner. You want to have someone care about you genuinely. You’re a little ashamed of wanting to claim him. Do you even dare entertain the thought?

“Yeah, I think you probably do,” you smile wider, turning in your seat to face him like he’s facing you.

“Now that you know all about my depression, would you like to know my name?” you ask him, teasing a smile.

He smiles more freely, “On a first date? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”

Your stomach tumbles, heart sprinting at his words.

“A date?”

He only smiles wider, your heart stuttering before taking off at double speed again.

You tell him your name and then bite your lip, unable to believe your good luck.

“What about that other girl? You told her you weren’t looking for a date,” you wonder.

“Well, how can I be looking for a date when I’m already on one? Besides, how many girls do you think I can come across before I find another one wearing a shirt about my favorite book again?” he asks, all sincerity.

“Your favorite book is to Kill a Mockingbird?”

His smile is blinding.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he nods, reaching out to shake your hand. “My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”

You take it and almost faint as your head goes dizzy at the soft touch of his skin.

The veins of his forearm bulge as he squeezes gently but he doesn’t actually shake it and instead seems to just hold your hand.

“Wait, I’ve seen your editorials before. You work at the Daily Planet.”

“I do,” he nods.

Your stomach suddenly falls, jealousy raking up along your ribs to settle around your heart to make it ache.

“Aren’t you dating Lois Lane? I thought-you two went to one of my boss’s parties together.”

It had been so long ago. Months and months. You remember Mr. Wayne going on about his friends Clark and Lois. You hadn’t met them, but Mr. Wayne had left to greet them when they’d arrived.

Clark’s own face falls just a tad, a small melancholic shift but it’s not deep. He keeps his smile, though smaller, and nods.

“We broke up last year,” he confesses, still not releasing your hand.

His thumb grazes against the back of it, sending goosebumps up from that point to spread along your arms and the rest of your body.

“I’m...not sorry?” you laugh, unable to help yourself because how can you be sorry about it now?

Clark also chuckles, “You know, right now, suddenly I’m not either.”

Before you can think of something cute to say, your stomach gurgles loudly, announcing to anyone close enough to hear that you’re hungry.

“Oh,” you utter, embarrassed as you finally take your hand back to rub your belly. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a bit.”

“They have a menu here, I’ll grab us one.”

He rises and is gone before you can stop him and holy hell does he have a nice butt.

Watching him leave, you contemplate the way he used the word “us” so casually and wiggle with the pleasure it gives you.

As quick as you can, you look for any reflective surface and settle on the window across from you on which you can barely see yourself.

It’s enough though and you quickly go about fixing your hair which is surprisingly not bad even after all the treatments you’ve undergone.

A soft voice calls your name, the young woman who’s been escorting you.

“Hi, are you ready for your next treatment?” she smiles at you politely, kindly even, her body slightly bent down so that she won’t speak too loud and disturb the other people enjoying the hot room.

“Oh, um...I’m actually super hungry and I was going to order something to eat?”

The idea of being taken away to somewhere that you can’t be around Clark devastates you. You haven’t been this into anyone in so long.

“Oh okay! What would you like to order? Did you get a menu?”

The young woman gestures over her shoulder as if asking if she should go get you one.

“Actually-” but you don’t get to explain because Clark suddenly steps up to loom over both of you.

He doesn’t mean to, you don’t think, he’s just so big and he kind of naturally just looms.

“Hi,” he greets her kindly, and she flushes.

You can’t blame her. She takes a step back to put some space between herself and Clark and she’s seriously flustered. He’s hot.

Clark squeezes back by and sits himself in his seat before opening the paper menu and leaning towards you to give you a look.

You read through the choices quickly and nothing looks too crazy.

“Ooh, this one looks good,” you tell him, pointing down at the bottom of the menu.

“Should we get that one?”

“Yeah!” you reply eagerly, excited for the food.

You’re really very hungry.

“Can we get the gourmet pizza?” Clark asks, “And an order of the mini muffins? What kind are they?”

“Blueberry today,” the girl informs him, back to her composed and professional attitude.

“Two orders of those. And…”

“You don’t offer any kind of burger?” you ask the young woman looking back at her.

She smiles kindly but shakes her head, “No, sorry. The closest would be the sandwiches. We have tuna, cucumber, egg salad, and ham.”

While they sound like normal sandwiches, you have a suspicion that they’re going to be fancy in one way or another.

“Can we have an order of the tuna?”

She nods.

“And we’ll get the chocolate fondue, for desert?” Clark adds, folding up the menu and handing it to your escort.

“Alrighty, and for drinks? We can bring just plain water or perhaps some herb infused tea?”

“Do you have any sweet tea?” you wonder.

She nods.

“Two please,” Clark smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” your escort says and hurries off to put in the order.

Both of you watch her go then when you meet Clark’s eyes, he laughs, just once. Failing to keep it inside.

“Did we order too much?” you wonder.

“I’m hungry too,” Clark assures you.

“I really wanted a burger,” you lament. “I mean, this food will probably be better than some greasy burger but-”

“A burger sounds like heaven. I love greasy burgers. Double meat. Triple cheese. Lots of pickles.”

He makes a funny face, pretending to salivate over the image he’s painted and while it’s a subtle change in his expression, you can tell that he’s more prone to being serious and that makes the gesture funnier for some reason.

You laugh, shaking your head.

He laughs with you, leaning back in his lounge.

You follow his lead, then turn onto your side and shove an arm underneath your head.

He mimics your pose, drawing his long legs up a little to bend them.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with the locker room? I really didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to change in there.”

Clark’s smiles shift to a soft curve of his lips.

“I’m the one that should be apologizing,” he counters. “I walked in on you.”

“But you had no idea I’d be in there half naked, I kinda just thrust my body at you.”

There’s a beat, he looks down at your chair instead of maintaining eye contact, then, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Your neck is suddenly on fire. Cheeks, ears, the base of your belly. It all burns as your heart stutters.

As he looks up to meet your eyes again, those baby blues burning with a striking spark, something he said when you first came in here replays itself in your head.

You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hey, when I came in here, I apologized for staring at your naked upper body and you said that it was only fair I get a good look too.

“Are you saying you saw me when you clearly said you didn’t in the locker room?!”

Clark averts his eyes, clearing his throat loudly before throwing himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna have to get my friend something really good in return for gifting me this spa day,” Clark says, pointedly changing the subject.

But he has a point. This has been the best little indulgence you’ve ever given yourself and none of it could have been possible without Mr. Wayne’s generosity.

“Me too. I’ll have to make sure my boss knows how glad I am that he forced me to come here.”

Clark smiles, “What’s your next treatment? Did you pick them before you came?”

“We could do that?” You gasp.

Clark just smiles wider.

“No, I’m just going with the flow. The girl who took our order has been suggesting stuff and I’ve just been going with it.”

“I have a fresh water soak after this. You should join me.” Clark offers.

After the hot room, a swim in some fresh water sounds like heaven. And extending your time with Clark is a definite bonus.

“Aren’t we not supposed to swim for thirty minutes after we eat?” you tease.

Clark chuckles, “It’s a soak.”

Then, his voice shifts and you’re knocked breathless as he basically pleads with you.

“Join me. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Your brain is buzzing with that pleading voice of his. Gentle urging that betrays his want to be with you rather than wanting to control you.

“A fresh water soak sounds amazing.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing could ever top today. You and Clark stuck together the rest of the day. It was fun getting to know him and exciting because the longer you two spent time together, the closer he sat to you.

As you dropped your spa outfit into a canvas souvenir bag that your attendee had given you at your last treatment--a couple’s massage that you and Clark had talked all the way through--Clark peeked around his own locker door, shutting it.

“So, I was thinking,” he began, moving to lean beside your locker as he towers over you, making you internally swoon with the curve of his lips.

“Yeah?” you urge him on, taking your other belongings and throwing them into the canvas bag along with your spa outfit which is also free for you to take.

“I have some things to do tonight but, how would you like to get some burgers tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me out on a second date, Clark?” as much as you wish you could sound like you were teasing, your excitement betrays you and Clark beams at your tone.

“Definitely,” he says low and deep.

Fuck, you’re totally screwed. You’re falling hard.

You really want to reach up and gently slide the curl falling on his forehead to the side lightly, but you resist the urge.

“I’d love to go out and get greasy burgers with you,” you bite your lip and Clark’s expression shifts a bit more serious but there’s a fire in his eyes, a darkening as his pupils dilate that makes your heart stutter.

“Come on,” Clark nods towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

He bumps into you, flirtatiously nudging you as he leads you out and you return his gentle push with your own.

“Had you been to a spa like this before?”

“No,” Clark shakes his head. “I actually don’t get much benefit at these places. It feels good, but it’s not really my thing. You?”

“I feel cleaner than I ever have,” you scoff. “But I could never afford it. Even the cheap places. I’d rather just take a walk around a park or something.”

“Me too,” Clark agrees, smiling.

As the two of you walk out into the parking lot, the cooler air outside feels pleasant against your treated skin.

In the setting sun light, Clark looks especially good and you can’t help yourself. You steal several glances at him with no worry as to hiding it.

You’re happy to see he’s doing it too.

“Oh good,” a familiar voice interrupts, pulling your feet to a stop as you search for your boss’s face. “You two met.”

“Wait, us two-?”

“Bruce?” Clark also stops beside you, eyes narrowed, a crinkle between his eyes.

You look between the two of them, confused but starting to put two and two together.

“Bruce? You-Mr. Wayne is your friend who gave you the voucher?” you realize.

Clark looks at you, his own realizations starting to manifest.

“Bruce is your boss?”

Mr. Wayne moves towards the two of you, hands shoved into his long charcoal gray coat. There’s a satisfied grin on his handsome face, a pride in what you realize must have been a carefully crafted maneuver.

Clark looks at you, a knowing smile on his face as if amused but maybe also a little irritated? Not with you, of course. Clearly his annoyance is with Mr. Wayne.

“You did this,” he accepts, looking back at Mr. Wayne with a tilt of his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wayne denies. “I just gave you two a free day at the spa. Did she tell you why I gave her the voucher?”

“She did,” Clark nods.

“Not every PR rep would overlook a five hundred million dollar investment in order to keep us clean from associating with a suspected illegal arms dealer. Most of them would just look the other way.” Mr. Wayne brags.

A look of understanding crossing Clark’s face and he looks down at you, smiling again as if he’s pieced together a puzzle.

“It was really nothing, Mr. Wayne, and thank you for today. I-I’m actually really glad I came. I would have hated it if the voucher expired.”

“Expired?” Clark asks, turning that confused look back on his friend. “They don’t expire.”

Mr. Wayne clears his throat and turns his full body away from you both, looking back at his shiny expensive sports car.

“Yeah, they do,” he says.

“Bruce,” Clark chides.

“We’re gonna be late,” Mr. Wayne says, ignoring Clark’s reprimand, then looks at you as he pretends he wasn’t just caught in a lie. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, I brought my car,” you gesture at a modest white sedan parked a few spots over.

“Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Clark?” Mr. Wayne urges him, then walks towards his car.

“I’ll be right there,” Clark tells him, then waits for you to lead the way to your car.

Your heart is still thrumming rapidly with the realization that Mr. Wayne went out of his way to make sure you and Clark met. A set up?

You stop by your car door and unlock it. Clark is quick to take the door from you as you open it and he holds it with his left arm as you turn to look up at him.

“I had a lot of fun today, despite the obvious premeditation of us meeting,” you scoff. “I’m glad I met you.”

You’re quickly becoming acquainted with the gentle curve of Clark’s lips, the peek of his pearly whites as he blushes and meets your eyes.

“I’m glad Bruce interfered,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow for burgers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you assure him.

After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and places his hand on your bicep then traces the length of your arm until he can take your hand.

It sets your skin on fire. It makes you dizzy and breathless.

“You have my number,” you remind him, eager to reconnect if he has the time.

He gives you that pearly smile, blue eyes full of excitement, “I’ll call you later. Tonight?”

You nod, “Tonight.”

He waits for you to get in, shutting the door for you when you’re sitting.

You lower the window as he backs away, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he nods, then turns to meet Mr. Wayne at his car.

“What?” Bruce asks, “It’s been months. She’s perfect for you.”

“Really?!” you can hear Clark demand, more annoyed with his friend again than any consequences his actions might have brought, however positive.

“You like her, don’t you?” Mr. Wayne asks.

“That’s not the point, Bruce. Boundaries.” Clark reminds him. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I knew you were coming today, I had to get her here,” Mr. Wayne explains. “Besides, you’re-”

As their doors shut, you’re cut off from their distant conversation. You shut your window, watch them speed out, and smile to yourself at the unexpected turn your spa day took.