This Was So Good - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

For Forever With You pt. 2

***This. Took. So. Much. Longer. Than. I. Wanted. It. Too. BUT IT'S DONE! Thank you all so much for being patient while I finished school and took a break, but I am BACK and I am so so glad to be. I hope you all enjoy this lovely little fic! -B***

Summary: A mortal human and an immortal wizard dating is great until something bigger than the world shakes them. War starts in the human world, and the supernatural worlds around them and Solomon can only watch as everything he has carefully nurtured for the past few years begins to crumble.

Part 1

Late 1930s

It turned out that life with you was riveting.

Solomon could hardly remember the last time he had felt so young and free.

With you, he took time to stop and smell the roses. With you, a decade that would usually be an insignificant droplet in his life has become a vibrant waterfall. With you, he is aware of every second, of every step, of every breath that he takes and just how valuable and rare they are to be shared with you.

He treasured you in a way that he hadn't treasured anything since he last sat on a throne in the days of old.

But just as his crown was eventually taken from him, so were the days of peace, joy, and love that he shared with you.

Lightning cracked outside your apartment windows as rain rattled the glass panes. He stood there, gaping at you as you walked around your apartment, packing your things.

"No," he whispered. "MC, please, you can't do this."

You glanced back at him in sympathy as you shook your head. "I'm sorry, Solomon. But you've heard the news; war is on our door step. I can't just sit back and watch, not when I have skills that help."

He gritted his teeth as he clenched onto the enlistment papers you had handed him to read — the very papers with your name written all over them. "If war is really coming, then we can go somewhere away from the war. Away from all of this."

You frowned as you blinked at your partner. "Wait, what?"

Solomon shoved a hand into his suit pocket, quickly magicking a wad of cash into existence before pulling it out in front of you. Your eyes bulged at the sight. "We run. We leave this damned country together. Somewhere the war will never find us. Somewhere safe."

You sighed as you put your hand over his and gently pushed the money back towards him. "I can't. These are my people. My friends. My co-workers. I can't just abandon everything when there's something I can do about it." Keeping your hands on his, Solomon's breath caught in his throat as you pulled him closer to you. "I'm sorry. I understand that you're concerned. But think of it this way, I'm drafted as a telegrapher. I won't even be on the front lines-"

"The front lines don't matter when there are bombs involved," He couldn't help but hiss back, his hands twisting around the money to grip tightly onto yours. "Hospitals were targeted last time. Camps obliterated. What if you're there when- Please, love. I ... I don't want to lose you."

He couldn't lose you. Not yet. Not this soon. He thought he still had decades left with you, not hours.

Your expression softened as you leaned forward and gently pecked Solomon's lips. He savored the sensation of your soft touch like as though it was his final breath of air before death. He clung to every second of your attention and affection that you gifted him with grasping, never-satisfied, hands.

He leaned into your delicate touch, as you cupped his cheek and pulled away. "Solomon, I will do everything in my power to come back to you. Just ... Promise that you'll be here for me when I return."

He closed his eyes, putting of his weight against you as he pulled his lips into a thin line. He wanted to make that promise, but there was more than one reason why he was asking you to run away with him.

You weren't the only one being called to fight — only his was with greater powers that he had been hiding from you.

"I'll do my best," he whispered instead. His heart clenched as he squeezed tightly onto you. "And ... When all this is all done, when we find each other again ..." his heart ached as he met your confused stare, "We never leave each other again. We ... We become forever."

He watched as your breathing halted and realization slowly lit behind your eyes. "A-Are ... Solomon, are you saying that you want to-"

He gathered your lips with his, suffocating the words before they dared enter the world. "Don't say it. Not yet. When all this is over."

You shakily nodded, new tears lining your eyes as you stared at him. "O-Okay. When this is over."

It turns out that was all easier said than done.

The war wasn't quick — Solomon didn't know why he expected it to be. It dragged on for a torturous amount of time filled with seemingly endless evolutions of ways to tear each other apart. Not a day went by that he didn't think of you and yet ...

He hadn't dared to send you a letter, or contact you in anyway.

Solomon didn't doubt that you had attempted to reach him, but he wasn't anywhere close to his normal address. He was traveling across realms, taking part in the supernatural side of the war. He was constantly surrounded by beings who had the ability to snuff out mortal lives with the snap of his fingers — he couldn't let them know about you.

So he went silent. He never spoke of you to anyone. He kept an eye on you and where he knew you were drafted from a distance and ensured that you were safe.

He hated it. God, he hadn't known that being apart from someone could hurt so badly. But he knew it was for the best.

Years passed. Victory was finally earned. The violence and blood shed began to settle, and the world became still once more.

So now he stood outside of the apartment that he hoped you still called home, a bouquet of blue hyacinths in hand and fear stewing in his gut.

With a deep breath, he raised a hand, and knocked on the door.

"Just a moment!"

Several locks clicked and suddenly you were there, looking just as captivating as the day you left.

Your eyes widened as they met his, your butter-soft, kissable lips parting shock. "Solomon," God, he missed the sound of his name dripping from your tongue.

"Hello," he whispered in adoration.

Hearing his voice seemingly shook you out of whatever stupor you had been in, as the beautifully stunned expression on your face melted into fierce furociousness and you began to slam the door.

The wizard quickly stepped forward and caught it. "MC, please! Just a moment!"

"No!" You shouted from behind the door. "You do not get to skip back into my life after abandoning me during a literal war!"

Solomon winced as the heavy oak door rammed against the side of his foot. "My love-"

"You don't get to call me that," you snapped, the door ripping back open. He nearly choked on his own spit at the heat behind the glare you were pointing at him. "I wrote to you daily. I called. And not once did I receive word back. I tried to visit you in the middle of all this mess, you know," you stepped out from your doorway and was now standing nose-to-nose with Solomon. "You weren't home. I asked about you, and even our closest neighbors somehow didn't know who you were. I thought you were dead, Solomon!" His chest ached at the utter grief in your voice as you screamed at him. Your lip quivered as a broken gasp bubbled up them. "Where were you? I- I needed you, and you left me after everything! After you- You had hinted that-"

He moved closer to you, regret pooling in his stomach regardless of how he knew his actions were for the best. Although you may not have wanted to be anywhere near him at this exact moment, he couldn't stand there and watch you fall apart. Without another word, he gathered you tightly into his arms, pulling you as impossibly close as he could and curling himself around you.

For the first time since he first saw your name on your enlistment papers, he could breathe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as you sobbed into his chest, your balled fists punching against him. "I'm so sorry for leaving you alone. I ... I thought I was protecting you."

Your movements stilled at his explanation. "What do you mean? Are you a spy?"

There was no stopping the snort that ripped out of him. "Oh definitely not. Just ..." he let out a shaky breath and smiled at you. "Let's take this inside. I think it's finally time that I explained a few things."

You stared at him, and for a moment he feared this was the end, that he was about to lose the only mortal that he had truly cared about for centuries. But then you sighed, and you dropped your beautiful eyes to the ground as you stepped back and pushed open the door. "Fine," you breathed and simultaneously breathed hope back into his soul. "Fine. Come in, just ... Talk."

He nearly fell to the ground in relief, but quickly walked in, whispering thank yous under his breath as he did.

After an awkward silence as you made tea (complete with a splash of rum) and some cold sweets you tossed onto a plate, you met him back in the living room and sat sternly across from him. "You have one and only one chance," your words blew over him like the tundra's wind. "Speak."

He swallowed thickly, wiping his unusually calmy palms on his pant legs before taking a deep breath. "This ... This is going to sound insane. You might not believe me, but please, trust that I am telling the truth," your eyes narrowed suspiciously on him as you took a sip of your tea. He nodded in acknowledgment of your attention. "I'm a wizard, an immortal one at that. I was called by the powers of Heaven and Hell to fight the supernatural elements of the war and, as I do every time I leave a location, I wiped the memories of our peers before departing." You looked at him, face remaining neutral, before you slowly set down your drink. "Get out," you hissed, the venomous anger that lay barely restrained under your skin, finally beginning to break loose.

Solomon's heart plummeted. "Love, please. I promise, I'm telling the truth!" You laugh, your expression morphing into one of pure disbelief. "Are you kidding me?! Wizards? Supernatural? Do you even hear yourself?" You choked on your words as you shook your head at him. "If you wanted to lie, you could've done so without mocking my intelligence. Get out."

"I can prove it!" He shouted desperately, rising to his feet. "I can show you!" Without waiting for a response, he began moving his hands in familiar semantics, whispering incantations under his breath as glyphs float in the air for a moment before suddenly a large tome apparated into existence and dropped into his hands. He rushed towards you, flipping open the book and showing you the contents. "This is my spell book. Every spell I've ever created and/or mastered is in here. Look for yourself."

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping a little as you took in the display and the book now being thrust into your hands. You shakily flipped through the fragile pages and sure enough there was page after page of strange symbols and words written in a language you didn't understand. There was a tingling presence to the book that ran through your fingertips up your arms and caused you to shiver.

Solomon slowly comes to stand beside you, watching you take in the precious artifact in your hands. "I wasn't lying," he whispered softly. "I didn't want to go. They didn't give me a choice. Then it was too dangerous for me to stay in contact. I didn't want to risk you getting pulled into an ever greater war than you were already fighting."

At that moment, he wished he could read your mind. Your lips pursed as you continued flipping through the pages. His stomach twisted in knots the longer you perused. There was always the chance that you still wouldn't believe him and would brush him off. There was always the possibility you would believe him, but would be disgusted and would turn him away regardless.

It had all happened before. He didn't want it to happen again. Not with you. But he had no say in the matter.

The snap of the books pages slapping shut pulls his attention back to you as you look up at him. You silently hand it back to him and then you stare. Your eyes dig deep into his soul, they crawl under clothes and beneath his skin, they bury themselves into every mark on his flesh, until they close and you let out a tired sigh, falling against your chair. "That's- It's a lot to take in Solomon," you breathe.

He nods, shifting on his feet and trying to get some grasp on your body language, but the mask you've built for yourself is carefully locked in place and no longer budges for him. "I know," he whispers. "I know it is. But that's the truth, dearest. That's why I left. It's why no one remembers me, but you. Please believe me." You sigh, and run a hand through your hair. "I do, I just-" you cut yourself off, troubled eyes looking into the distance but not truly seeing anything. "This brings out so many more questions. How many other lies did you tell me? If you really are this immortal powerful being, what are you doing here? Why-" Your voice cracks and you finally look at him again — tears, that he has always hated but is now the cause of, lining your eyes. "Why did you chose to haunt me?" He can't handle it. He moves closer, getting down on his knees before you as he takes your hands into his own. "I don't haunt you. I don't have that ability," he lightly jokes before getting serious once more and coming just a little bit closer until your legs brush against each other. "I love you. It's true that I have told you lies before to protect my identity and keep you safe, but that has always been true. I stayed here because I love you. You enchant me, MC. In ways that, even with hundreds of lifetime's of knowledge, I cannot begin to understand," your breath hitches as he runs his thumbs across your knuckles. He leans in and ever so delicately presses a kiss to them.

"Please," he begs with the voice of a broken man whose only thing he had to lose was sitting before him. "I don't want to lose you. Not when we still have time. Let me prove myself to you again. No more lies. Just you. Just me." You hands slip out of his, and a single finger comes under his chin, tilting it up until he was looking at you. For the first time that evening there was something different glimmering in your eyes — a willingness and acceptance. "Alright," you say. "You get one more chance," your other hand swoops around to caress his hair, brushing it up and back away from his face lovingly. "Show me your strange funky world, magic man. All of it this time. Show me the real, Solomon." His body slumps in relief, silver eyes overflowing with the love for you that he has been floating in without you being there to share it with. "I will," he nearly whines. "I will. I promise." And he did. It wasn't easy, but he spent the next year showing you all that he had always fought so hard to keep secret. He introduced you to magic, to other strange and greedy witches. He showed you his demon pact symbols that are burned into his skin, and brought back delicacies from the other realms and taught you about their existance. Slowly, you were introduced to a whole other layer of the man you were already enamoured with. A man who wasn't sketchy or mysterious as people so often thought him to be — but who was curious, childlike in his wonder, and hungry for the knowledge of everything around him.

This Solomon was lighter, even happier than the one you loved before.

And after a year of magic and witches and spells and demons and angels, you approched Solomon as he worked on a potion in your kitchen and pulled out a ring.

You asked to marry this strange wonderful man, and Solomon felt the worlds around him still. You asked to stay by his side, not just for this life time, but to aid you in doing so forever, and Solomon felt the air escape his lungs.

You asked to swear yourself to him and him to you in a pact that no magic could ever comprehend, and Solomon's heart nearly exploded alongside the potion on the stove.

With shaking hands, and trillion reassurances, he said yes. And with a single potion, a piece of paper, and beautifully personal ceremony the two of you were bound together, until the ends of time. It took another month after your marriage and consumption of your immortality potion for him to realize that this was real.

He would never be alone again. ***Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, I've been trying to write this for so so so long and I'm so happy I finally got it done! Thank you all so much for your patience and hanging around while I worked on these two! I love them so much. I hope you guys do too! Thanks! -B***

Taglist:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @mcx7demonbros @bloopthebat @simpinginthecorner

this was honestly so good!! would recommend if you dont mind it being a fem!reader

He's cheating, isn't he?

~Price x Reader

~Angst

As the weeks turned into months, you couldn't ignore the growing unease that had settled in your heart. It had started innocently enough, with Price getting up to take a phone call in the living room. At first, it didn't raise any suspicion, but it soon became a regular occurrence, happening every week, sometimes even multiple times within the week.

You knew deep down that Price would never cheat on you. His love for you was undeniable, and you were well aware of it. However, the constant disappearances for hours on end began to wear on your trust and your self-esteem.

Price would always tell you that he was just going to get groceries, but when he returned, there would only be one bag in his hand. It didn't make sense for him to be gone for hours just to bring back one bag of groceries.

The months went by, and the secret phone calls continued. With each instance, your patience wore thinner, and the restraint you had built was beginning to crumble. You couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right.

When you asked him about the calls, he only mumbled that it was work. But you couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't simply take those calls near you if they were indeed just work-related matters.

The increasing secrecy and lack of transparency were eroding your trust and leaving you with a growing sense of unease. It was clear that something was amiss, and you couldn't help but wonder who Price was hiding from you.

One day, as you lay with your head nestled in Price's lap, his fingers gently brushing through your hair, the soothing rhythm of his touch had started to lull you into a peaceful state. But that tranquility was abruptly interrupted when his phone rang, startling him.

Price quickly moved you off his lap to take the call. You felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside as he did, a sense of rejection and abandonment washing over you. You got up from the couch, the slow, deliberate steps taking you to your bedroom, where you leaned your ear against the door, desperate to eavesdrop.

Through the muffled sound, you heard Price's voice as he spoke on the phone. The words were unclear, but you strained to listen. There was a long pause, and then Price let out a sigh, a heavy and weighted sound that filled you with dread.

"...Four months..." Those two words hung in the air like a storm cloud, and your heart sank as you tried to make sense of what they meant.

It felt like the ground beneath you was slipping away, and you couldn't help but wonder if Price was planning on leaving you in four months, ending your relationship and moving on to someone else. Tears welled up in your eyes as you walked back to the couch, your mind racing.

The thought left you emotionally paralyzed, tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you walked away from the door, quietly retaking your spot on the couch. Your gaze fixed on the television, your mind racing. Price soon entered the living room and took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his voice.

"Love?"

You were lost in your thoughts, not immediately hearing him. It was only when he said your name that you snapped back to reality, forcing a smile and responding, "Sorry, hun, just daydreaming."

Price smiled and placed his hand over yours, "You know I love you, right? More than anything."

Your smile almost faltered, but you managed to keep up the facade, placing your hand over his and gently squeezing. "I know you do."

He kissed your forehead and you leaned your head back into his lap, his hand combing through your hair, while his attention shifted to the TV. But for you, everything else seemed to fade away.

You battled back tears and internal questions. Who was this other woman? When had Price started seeing her? What excuse would he make to end your marriage?

Over the next three months, you worked hard to keep up the facade. Occasionally, it would slip, and you'd find yourself crying in Price's arms, but you always made excuses, blaming it on cramps or a bad day. However, your heart was heavy with the uncertainty and fear of what might be coming.

However, one day during dinner, as you looked up from your plate, you saw blood trickling from Price's nose. Your eyes widened in alarm.

"Oh my god, hun, your nose is bleeding," Concern evident in your voice. Price raised his hand to his nose and saw the blood on his fingertips.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Let me just clean it up," he assured you. As he got up from the chair, he suddenly collapsed to the ground. Panic set in as you rushed to his side.

"Give me a second; I'm going to get my phone and call 911," you said, running to the other room, your fingers trembling as you dialed for help.

You sat in the hospital room, holding Price's hand while he slept in the hospital bed. The tension was palpable, but you had no idea of the heavy news that was about to be revealed. The doctor entered the room, and you turned your attention to him, your heart already drumming in your chest.

"The tumor has grown significantly over the past three months," the doctor said, his voice laden with sorrow. "I'm very sorry to say, but he only has a few weeks, a month at best."

Your world froze as the words left the doctor's mouth. "What do you mean, tumor? What tumor are you talking about?" you asked in shock, your voice trembling.

The doctor's eyes widened as he realized that Price had never shared this information with you. "I'm very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your husband has had a brain tumor for the past year. He has been coming here quite frequently for CT scans. I thought he shared the news with you.”

Your heart dropped, and your ears were ringing as the doctor's words sank in. "Thank you, doctor. I think I want some alone time if that's okay with you," you said, turning away to be by Price's side, your hand finding his again.

"Of course," The doctor nodded and left the room, leaving you in silence.

This revelation shattered your world. All those months of misunderstanding, suspicion, and fear, thinking that he was cheating on you, were suddenly replaced with the realization that he had been dealing with a life-threatening condition. And he had hidden it from you, for what reason, you couldn't fathom.

Alone with Price, your hand found his once more. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and as they met yours, he saw the tears streaming down your face. Confusion and worry knitted his brows, and tears welled up in his own eyes.

"You know, don't you?" he whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you sobbed, gripping his hand tightly. Price's own tears fell freely now. Using his other hand, he covered yours, squeezing it with all the strength he had left.

"I didn't want it to ruin you. I didn't want you to let it destroy you, for you to count down the days you had left with me. I wanted us to live a normal life together. I wanted your last year with me to be full of happiness. I just wanted you to be happy. I'm so sorry,"

Price confessed, his voice cracking. You dropped your head as you cried out, the weight of his secret too much to bear. Price did his best to sit up, his hands cupping your face, making you look at him.

"I thought you were cheating on me," you cried out as tears ran down your face. Price looked shocked but quickly laughed softly through his own tears.

"Sweetheart, I would never," he assured you. You reached over and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his neck as you sobbed out your anguish.

"I don't want you to die," you choked out as Price's tears streamed down his face, and he held you even tighter.

"I don't want to die either," he whispered back. He cried with you, and you both shared your pain, finding comfort in one another. Eventually, you fell asleep next to him on the hospital bed.

Two weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of Price's casket, a sea of mourners around you. Your eyes were vacant and hollow, lost in a world of pain and sorrow as you gazed at his lifeless form, lying in the casket. The weight of his absence was suffocating, and the pain of losing him was overwhelming, etching deep lines of grief and despair on your face.

The world moved around you, but you felt frozen in time, unable to comprehend that Price was gone. As the solemn ceremony continued, the reality of your loss settled heavily on your shoulders, and the tears flowed freely, reflecting the profound sense of emptiness that had taken root in your heart.

You had been going through the motions of daily life, the absence of Price weighing heavily on your heart. As you checked the mail one afternoon, you noticed a letter that seemed different from the usual bills and advertisements. Your eyes grew wide with curiosity as you recognized the handwriting on the envelope, and your heart raced with anticipation.

Rushing to the living room, you tore open the envelope with trembling hands. Your eyes scanned the familiar words, and tears welled up as you realized it was a letter from Price. Your heart ached as you devoured every word, feeling his presence through his written words, and a bittersweet mix of emotions washed over you.

My Dearest y/n,

As I sit here, pen in hand, I am filled with a mixture of emotions that I'm struggling to put into words. I write this letter in the hope that it reaches you a few days after I'm gone, a small attempt to convey what's in my heart before my time in this world ends.

I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to carry that love with you always. You are the sun, the warmth that has filled my heart, and the love that has given my life meaning.

I want you to understand that my decision to keep my illness from you was not out of deceit or a desire to protect you from pain. It was a misguided attempt to preserve your happiness.

I see now that my silence did more harm than good, and for that, I am truly sorry. The weight of my secret was a heavy burden, and I regret not sharing it with you sooner.

As you face the days without me, I want you to know that it's okay to grieve, to feel anger, sadness, and loss. Emotions are a natural part of life, and there is no right or wrong way to experience them.

I want you to cherish the memories we created together. The laughter, the shared dreams, the quiet moments, they are all a testament to the beautiful life we built. Please, hold on to those memories, for they will keep me alive in your heart.

Live your life, my love. Pursue your dreams, follow your passions, and find joy in the simple pleasures of life. I have always believed in your strength, your resilience, and your ability to make the most of every moment. You have a bright future ahead, and I hope you embrace it with all the enthusiasm and optimism that you have always possessed.

I may be leaving this world, but my love for you will never fade. I will always be with you in spirit, watching over you, guiding you, and protecting you. You are a remarkable person, and you deserve all the love and happiness that life can offer.

I'm grateful for the love you gave me, and I am blessed to have known you. Cherish the life we had together, and as you move forward, carry our love with you in your heart. Until we meet again in a better place, my love, I will be waiting for you, just as you will always be in my heart.

With all the love in my soul,

John Price.

You can almost hear his voice echoing through the written lines. Your heart tightens, and tears roll down your cheeks as you finish reading.

Uncontrollable sobs wrack your body, and the ache in your chest intensifies with each passing moment. You find yourself gasping for breath between heart-wrenching cries. The raw pain of loss washes over you, and each word in the letter feels like a bittersweet echo of the love you shared.

In the days that followed, the words lingered, an ethereal presence in your heart. The letter remained a harbinger of sorrow, a tangible testament to the void Price left behind. Tears now blurred the lines, rendering his words almost unreadable. Yet, within those blurred lines, you found a flicker of resilience.

The pain of loss remained, an unwelcome companion, but within the lines of his letter, there was an urge to honor his memory through living life the way he would have wanted you too.

Slowly, like the tentative bloom of flowers after a harsh winter, you began to unfurl. You traced a path towards healing, stumbling through the fog of sorrow. The world around you seemed dull at first, colors muted and sounds distant. Yet, with each passing day, a glimmer of resilience emerged, a hesitant spark pushing through the darkness.

You found yourself in small moments – a sunrise painting the sky with hues of warmth, a stray cat lying on your porch, the scent of rain on the pavement. In these fragments of life, you began to glimpse a flicker of the light that once danced in your husband's eyes.

Carrying his memory, you navigated the world anew, a hesitant traveler on a journey of healing. His words echoed in your mind, encouraging you to embrace the vibrant symphony of existence. You found fragments of him in unexpected places – a familiar song on the radio, a butterfly dancing in the garden, or the scent of his favorite cologne lingering in the air.

In these moments, you felt a connection beyond the tangible, a comforting presence whispering that he was still with you. It wasn't a cure for the ache of loss, but rather a soothing balm, a reminder that love could transcend the boundaries of life and death.

Prince!Bakugo x Maid!reader

Summary:The barbaric and infamous prince has returned victorious from war, and as the only maid he ever lets get near him, you’re the one who gets to tend to him now that he’s back home.

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, nudity, angst to comfort

Ik all Bakugo fans are having a hard time out there rn, so heres some good comfort

He’s come back from once again another glorious win, putting both pride and more blood on the royal families history as the whole empire celebrates, after one long year of being away at war on the border of the neighbouring kingdom, finally the finishing act of his violent spectacle has come to a close. In celebration of such, the acting Queen declared a banquet to be held in the royal palace the very same night of his arrival, accessible to the entire upper and middle class, a party full of fancy dresses that took seamstress’s months to sew together, full of nobles wishing to gain connections, music of all sorts and food you couldn’t even imagine to be so delicious until it melts in your mouth.

A banquet like this was a huge opportunity, it wasn’t often the middle class got to freely mingle with the upper class, and it wasn’t often you were given the chance to get off work to go to a social gathering, as a palace maid it was required for you to stay in the palace at all times until your seasonly holiday, so of course when a courtier visited the servant quarters to announce how all palace workers have the opportunity to celebrate the occasion, it was reasonable how they all squealed in excitement; hugging each other, pulling out their fancy jewellery stuck at the very bottom of their suitcases and dressers, deciding what dress would be the most appropriate for such an event- but not you.

You didn’t have the liberty to go to such an event, not after being dubbed “the lion keeper”. After six long years of working in the palace, the sole and only maid his highness would ever let tend to him or wait on him, was you. Which is why you knew you couldn’t go to the banquet, not yet; you were the only person he would let check over his wounds and scars from war.

And so there you were, rather than wearing a gorgeous soft luxurious dress, with pearls and crystals adorning your ears and collar, instead you were wearing your tattered uniform from every other day, with a warm bucket of water sitting by your feet, washcloth in hand, waiting for the lion to enter his den. Between your hands and the washcloth your hands felt sweaty, and your feet couldn’t help but shuffle around a bit in their place, feeling restless. You felt nervous. After a long year you’re going to go back into your routine of tending to Bakugo once more, somehow you felt excited to see him again.

As if thinking of him was enough to spawn him, the front door to his chambers came launching open, the wide doors lined with gold shone as he stepped through them, the two guards that had escorted him made a courteous bow before politely closing the doors behind him as he walked in. You didn’t entirely know how to react to his return, the barrier of professionalism as his maid held you back from tearing up and giving him a hug, no matter how much you felt like a friend to him, you were still a maid. So there you stood in your place, welcoming him to his chamber with a genuine smile, ready to return to your routine of diligently serving him.

“You kept the place clean.”

“Of course your highness”

It was an absent remark he made, while fidgeting with the hilt of his sword sitting on his belt, you weren’t expecting some sort of compassion from him as an old friend to announce his return, but somehow having him notice your efforts to keep his chambers clean and in the exact order he left it to be in made you feel accomplished, warm. That warm feeling of happiness inside you was enough to tell you that you really weren’t dreaming, he’s returned.

“Drop the highness bullshit, you know I hate it- why did you keep my room clean? Everyone was saying I was as good as dead when I left the palace and you know it”

He feels a little agitated to hear you address him so formally, and the tension already in the air causes him to lash out a little, his prickly attitude quickly resurfacing. But no matter, by now you’re already used to it and it doesn’t phase you at all, even after a year.

“Well, Bakugo, I chose not to listen to them because I knew you’d come back.”

You bow your head as you speak, correcting yourself to use his name, it’s been so long since you called him bakugo. While smiling respectfully you kept up your stubborn attitude, always rooting for his highness. Bakugo couldn’t help but feel a little relieved to see that after a year you still haven’t changed at all, knowing this he felt more comfortable, and just as he thought, his name still rolled off your tongue like honey, if he were given the opportunity to hear it come from you forever more he truly believed he would take it.

The thought of you believing in him made him feel warm. That soft vulnerable feeling in his chest was one only you could coax him into feeling, your compliments and words were the only things able to make him feel this way, only you. In that warmth Bakugo fell silent, the roaring lion with his bloody paws and tattered fur felt docile under the care of the kind rabbit. In the silence, you clenched the washcloth between your hands, remembering what you were here to originally do.

“If we wait here any longer, your bath will no longer be how you like it Bakugo”

Bakugo glances at the bathroom door, before looking back at you amidst the silence, somehow feeling a little embarrassed now at the thought of undressing with you near after a year of being apart. Although he would never let it show on his face.

“I will give you some time to undress, please call me in when you’re ready”

“Yeah yeah same ol’ shit no need to tell me”

You stand beside the bathroom door in his bedroom and watch him walk past you, slouching as he always does, before shutting the door. Once he was completely out of your sight, your mind can’t help but wonder a little, maybe it was because he’s spent a year away, but he somehow seems a little more like a man now that he’s come back, his face seemed more defined with a sharper gaze, his body more muscular yet still lean, he clearly became more attractive. Your heart skipped more than a few beats when thinking about how much he’s changed, not that you didn’t love him all the same just as he was before.

Meanwhile, Bakugo slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, ripping open his collar and placing the jewelled cuff-links in his sleeve in a basket at last, he felt like he was suffocating in his royal uniform. Usually he would always leave the first button open, it felt much cooler to him rather than being suffocatingly hot. But he wanted to make an effort. He had heard women prefer a man who looks well kept and put together, but thinking about it now, he felt stupid. Did he really put himself through that to impress you? Somehow he felt like he needed to prove himself to you, prove that he’s grown while away. Since when did he start thinking of you like that? Someone to impress.

He pushes back his thoughts about you, like he has with all his other thoughts about you, the ones about how soft your hair seemed when it brushed against him, how your smile was something he sought out ever since it first made his heart jump, how loved you made him feel. Loved. It was a concept he knew close to nothing about, but he was sure what you made him feel is what it was, if the affection he felt for you undeniably wasn’t love, then he was sure that love in itself had to be a lie. He wasn’t sure when you stopped being “the least annoying maid” to him, and started being the woman he keeps close in his heart, perhaps it happened in-between all the times you endlessly defended his reputation, or in all the times you were there for him, comforting him and taking care of him, however when it really happened didn’t all that matter anymore, because it was something irreversible.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he looked at himself in the mirror, covered in bandages to avoid fresh wounds from reopening, the last few weeks of war were brutal, traumatic even, he blinked once and a slash on his chest appeared. Looking at himself now, he realises that trying to seem tidy and clean had no point, not when his body was littered with gruesome wounds and scars already forming everywhere. You had to be disgusted by him. And if you weren’t already, then he was sure when you were cleaning his wounds you’d be repulsed by him by the end of it. He shouldn’t care what you think, he knows he shouldn’t, at the end of the day he’s an heir to the royal throne while you’re just a woman from the middle class who landed a lucky job in being a palace maid. But regardless, he regretfully cared.

Dipping a hand into the bath water, he felt its mild bittersweet warmth as he finally noticed the soothing scent of the herbs you used. His favourite. You knew his likes and dislikes far too well, you lured him to be more comfortable with you than with anyone else, the happiest with you, and he was afraid it would all end when you see his wounds. Sitting at the edge of the bath, his heart raced, calling out to you.

“You may enter now”

Funnily enough, you jumped hearing his voice, as if the lion were not tame in your presence, you walked carefully while entering the bathroom, coming face to face with bakugo, leaning on the edge of the bathtub, a large bandage hugging his chest, while smaller cuts and scars remained unattended to in other areas, suddenly the light feeling in your chest from seeing him again was completely crushed by a depressing empathy at his pain, immediately you approached him, muscle memory already knowing exactly what to do, dropping the soft cotton cloth in a basin of cold water for later, your hands carefully approached his bandages, fingers sliding on his chest with such a light touch, if one more layer of bandage were to be on his chest he wouldn’t have even felt you.

While you gently pulled at his bandages, Bakugo shrunk in his spot, bracing himself for the look of disgust, maybe spite, he’s aware of how all the palace maids were away at the banquet by now, while you were stuck here tending to his vile wounds, it was his fault you were here, perhaps if he weren’t so selfish, you would be at the banquet sipping at all the free fine champagne, mingling with other young ladies your age, instead you were stuck in the pitiful lions cage.

But there was no disgust, nor was there a grimace, or groan, or a twist in your features, rather when you removed the bandage, you smiled, happy to see that his wound was not as terrible as the bandage seemed to have made it look, the wound was already starting to heal and stitches wouldn’t be necessary at all. Thank God. Relief for different reasons spread across both your features. The scowl Bakugo constantly wore to hide any other emotion has softened, as you lifted the cotton cloth and dabbed it at his wounds, cleaning up the dried blood the bandages couldn’t soak up. Bakugo hissed when you pressed a little too hard and you instantly recoiled back; looking up at his face to see if you had hurt him badly.

“Did I hurt you?”

You did. In fact his wound stung a little more than before, but he didn’t shout at you, he wore the same softened expression, he couldn’t help it, that look of concern you wore for him and only him made him feel terribly appreciated, because while other nobles always gave him remarks of “adoration” or “appreciation”, yours were always the most genuine.

“You didn’t.”

His voice is hoarse from trying to keep it low, yet still equally soft, tender and loving. It makes your face feel warm as you leave yourself with no other choice but looking back down at his chest to clean up the last of the blood. Dabbing more gently, trying hard to not hurt him again. You knew he lied about being hurt, no man hisses like that if he weren’t hurt, but you didn’t want to press on the matter any further, the lines under his eyes showed how tired he was.

“I’m all done cleaning your wounds Bakugo, you can step into the bath and I’ll help wash your hair now”

Bakugo feels a wave of embarrassment flood on him, as do you, as he slowly removes the towel around his waist, handing it to you to fold, avoiding your eyes while stepping into the bath. After taking the towel from him, you quickly turned your back to him, folding the towel and placing it on the marble sink counter, pretending to be occupied for a minute until you heard the bath water settle with him in the tub.

A silence breaks out as you turn around, rinsing Bakugos hair as he’s already obediently lifted his chin upwards so the water won’t get in his eyes, before you lather soap in your hands and gently massage his scalp. For the first time in far too long, Bakugo closed his eyes without a lingering fear of death in his chest. He would never admit it, that being a royal was hard enough when dealing with so many assassination attempts and how war was far worse for him. Since coming back to the empire he was still yet to fully relax himself, until now. your dainty fingers diligently pressing onto his head with care, washing away all the grime and dirt on him. While the warm water soaked into his rough war-torn skin, untying all the rough knots between his overworked muscles, you couldn’t help but let out a sniffle. The choking feeling of loneliness when Bakugo was away for so long hits you all at once.

He’s back. He’s returned.

Bakugo cracks open an eye to look at you when hearing the small whimper come from you, only to see your wobbly smile as tears prick the corners of your eyes, you tried to pretend nothing was wrong as you continued to scrub at his scalp until he suddenly tilted his head up to get a good look at you. Realising that he’s noticed, you curse at his perceptiveness and turn your back to him, trying to wipe away at your tears. You must seem stupid. Crying in front of the crown prince- how humiliating, he probably wants you out of his chambers for being a nuisance, the thought of him looking at you cruelly like he did all the other maids made you feel worse.

“I’m sorry I-“

You apologise, making Bakugo more worried as he sits up, and for the first time since he’s returned home, he calls out to you by your name, reaching out for your arm and tugging on it to turn you around, his voice stern yet still laced with evident concern for you. When you turn around to face him he feels guilty for how high his heart leaps, your cheeks a rosy colour with tears shining under the candlelight of the chandelier of the bathroom, using one of your hands to try cover your eyes as if you weren’t so obviously crying. The thought of how beautiful you were even with tears in your eyes was unable to escape his mind as he called out to you by your name again.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?”

The question was abrupt; and once again he was being selfish, deep down in the pit of his heart, he wanted you to miss him, to care for him so deeply it brings you to tears, the greedy lion had never received affection so deep and genuine from anyone else, so when he did he began to crave it, crave it so deeply that he refused to be around anyone except you. Though it may sound poisonous, villainous maybe even treacherous, he really hoped your tears were for him, and only him, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else or anything else making you cry that was out of his power, at the very least if it were him who made you cry, he would be able to make it better.

You look at Bakugo for a moment, surprised by his abrupt question, so many thoughts rushed though your head. I missed you, I missed you so much the air felt like it wanted to strangle me whenever I thought about how long you’ve been gone for, you’re everything to me my soul my life my reason of living. And yet, all you could manage was a choked sob, clogging your throat with a lump of emotions, your legs felt weak as you unintentionally kneeled, trying to cover your cry. The way you broke down when he asked was enough of an answer for him, cupping your face, leaning out of the bathtub now, water dripped onto the skirt of your uniform and the tiled floor as he pulled your face towards him, calling out your name once more.

“I’m here now, I’m here for you”

Your lip quivered at his words, because while in a formal setting he is your boss, when he held you like this, with a voice so uncharacteristically gentle you can barely recognise, and a touch so hesitant, trying so desperately to not cross a line, he truly seemed like he cared for you, like he loved you as much as you loved him.

You cried in the palms of his rough hands that were capable of holding the world in them, yet they still chose to hold onto you. With nothing to dry your tears, he tried to wipe them away with his thumbs, lulling you into calming down as he shushed you gently. He wanted to tell you he loved you, to tell you that in the past 6 years he’s loved you more than the average heart should be capable of, he loves you so much his heart aches for you, burns for you, he wants to tell you the only reason he put his life in danger at war was for you, to prove himself to the queen that he’s capable and strong enough as it is, that a political marriage is unnecessary if he comes home victorious all so he can be with you. But through all 6 years, he’s always been afraid, of what? He's afraid of change, rejection, of you not being able to reciprocate the sheer raw love and desire he has for you despite your enormous heart that was able to handle being the maid of the infamous barbaric prince.

Through soaked eyelashes, you look back up at Bakugo, you weren’t sure why, but the usual sandpaper fingertips of his felt so soft against your skin, perhaps it was the love that was woven into each of his touches that made them so soothing, or at least thats what you hoped. Your eyes glistened like crystal balls as you stared into his glorious scarlet reds, a colour you grew to love thanks to him.

“Did you miss me too Katsuki?”

You take a leap of faith, using his first name as you admit to missing him in his absence all at once, your heart beats louder than festival drums in your chest as you waited for an answer, however as his lips pursed together, seemingly thinking of what to say, you feel that thumping in your heart turn into the hammering of heart break, what was he so hesitant to say? You must have crossed a line. You couldn’t believe yourself for being so naiv-

“I love you.”

In all your life, in all his life, neither of you had heard those 3 words come out of his lips all together at once, but now that you have, you can admit that theres no sound more wondrous and beautiful than his confession, nothing will ever have a more special place in your heart than him and his words, than the reciprocation of your strong feelings. And the wobbly sweet smile on your face that quivered from just crying paired together with your blush was enough to tell him that you felt the same way too.

2 leaps of faith in one night, and a blossoming love at long last.

And thats the end! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! please consider dropping a like and especially a reblog with your thoughts :)) your nice comments give me loads of encouragement to keep writing!