#and he doesn't yet realize he's in love with a boy but that's for later

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Epilogue: I Don't Want To Lose Your Lovelight

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. 

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 10.8K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Illusions to past sex, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Teasing, Fluff, LOVE, Talks of Pregnancy/thinking about pregnancy, little bit of self-deprecating thought. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read🪴: Lovelight by ABBA

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A/N: Well here we are... The people have spoken and I will be leaving the happy version as is! Enjoy!

One Year Later

“I don’t understand why we need to have a realtor to look at apartments. Why can’t we just camp out in front of a nice apartment building and wait for an ambulance to wheel someone out like everyone else?” You huff looking down at the apartment listing on your phone that Ben was taking you to. “Or better yet, we could use Apartments.com. I trust Jeff Goldblum with my life.”

Who doesn't? The man is a national treasure.

"The guy from the movie about the dinosaurs?" Ben asks easing his car into traffic before taking a right.

Sunlight filtered through the windshield and down onto your lap illuminating the embroidered patches of flowers on your favorite blue jeans, the same jeans that were getting just a little tight at the top and the ones you wouldn't be able to wear for the next 6 months or so. You smile to yourself at the thought, and drop your left hand to your stomach that was just starting to swell beneath your botanical printed t-shirt, brushing a thumb over the soft fabric.

This year had been full of surprises, some good, some bad, but you didn’t care. Through the good and the bad, Ben had been there for you just as you had been there for him.

If someone had asked you what you thought your life was going to look like, it wouldn't have been this, but you were so blindingly happy that you didn't care. Ben might not have been the person that you imagined yourself with, but that was the funny thing about love, it could come with whispered breaths, soft caresses, and gentle promises or sneak up behind you and hit you over the back of the head with a frying pan.

There was no in between and your ears were still ringing from when it smacked you.

Ben quit his job at Vought over the phone the morning after the two of you finally realized what you should have known the moment you let Ben stay in your apartment the first time. It had been surreal waking up with him in your bed, his body hard and unyielding, curved around yours as if he wished to protect you while he was asleep. It was the same way you remembered from the morning you woke up with him on the couch when Darren was crashing in your room.

That night had seemed so far away then, an unpleasant flicker of emotion swelling when you thought of your brother, but then dissipated the longer you stared at Ben.

In the sweet relief of sleep he looked younger. His dark hair fell forward into his face, his bearded cheek laid gently on the pillow, and his usual frown pulled down into a neutral expression, but he looked just as handsome as he always did. Ben hadn't woken up until you raised his hand to your mouth and kissed the inside of his palm gently. And the smile he gave you when he did made you wish to exist in that moment with him forever. The look on his face then was so unlike the man you'd seen in the heat of battle the first time you met and everything like the man you'd fallen in love with.

Stan Edgar had been furious, said that Ben was purposely trying to make him look bad, but Ben didn't give a fuck what Stan thought of him, the only thing he cared about was curled against his chest, and was holding his hand to her lips.

Jake opened up the new plant shop re-named "Please Don't Die The Revenge," a title Jake and you had thought up after drinking way too many brightly colored margaritas at happy hour while Ben sulked and wished he was anywhere else.

However, Ben thought it was adorable how much of a light weight you were, and lead you home while you made jokes, giggled, and whispered things into his ear that only tested his restraint. Your boyfriend might be a lot of things, but he didn't want to take advantage of you when you were like that, especially not when you couldn't remember that you had feet and wouldn't stop crying until he took your shoes off and showed you that you still had them.

When Jake re-opened the shop, he insisted that you were going to be a partner, not an employee, and when he'd told you, you'd burst into tears while Ben grumbled under his breath something not worth repeating. Ben still didn't like Jake, and despite your numerous insistences for Ben to be nice, Ben was just as sullen around him as he had been since the first day they met. However, now Jake was used to it so you no longer felt the need to apologize.

You'd also decided to retire from working with Butcher, something that Ben wholeheartedly agreed with, especially now that you were pregnant. Sometimes you'd help out with something on the computer, but never in taking down a supe. It made you happier to work in the plant shop anyway, but didn't make you worry any less about Ben or everyone else.

The shop was doing well, and on weekends the store partnered with other businesses to host a block wide farmer's market, where you sold fruit, vegetables, dried herbs, hand crocheted goods, and jars of jam while Jake took the weekend off to visit his new girlfriend that he'd met when he went home for Christmas.

Ben may or may not have encouraged Jake to call her and you were sure it was so that Jake didn't get any ideas about how much time the two of you were spending together. You had an inkling that Ben still believed that you liked Jake no matter how many times that you proved to Ben you didn't.  You didn’t think that there was any competition between Ben and Jake, not when being with Ben made you feel alive in the best way and being with Jake was like being with an overactive golden doodle.

However, despite how many times you told Ben that he didn't need to come with you on his days off, he would sit beside you frowning, but following your movements with his eyes while you helped customers. Every so often you'd see a half-smile twitch on the end of his lips, happy that you were happy- but not happy to be there. It was a theme with your boyfriend, but you knew it stemmed from how much he loved you. Being in the plant shop and seeing Jake reminded you of that, because Ben had made sure that the shop re-opened for you and he had saved Jake's life for you. Ben had done more for you in the time that you'd been together than anyone else that you'd allowed into your life and into your bed.

Ben was it for you, and you were going to prove it every day for the rest of your life to him if that was what it took.

Days at the farmer’s market were fun. You would close down for an hour so Ben and you could wander to different booths to see what everyone else was selling.

Those days always felt normal. It reminded you of the farmer's market that your hometown had each Saturday and the same ones you dragged Annie to at the crack of dawn to get the first sample of freshly churned honey butter or the first sample of strawberry ice cream. When Ben and you walked hand in hand through the crowded marketplace stopping along the way to sample fruit, cheese, honey, and whatever else you could find with the warm sun on you back, it was the happiest you'd ever felt.

It was what you'd always wanted, the kind of relationship you’d longed to have for so long, the same one you’d seen growing up with your parents and grandparents, and the one you'd thought you'd never have.

You could see yourself marrying Ben. Odd given the first time you met, you'd thought he was just a big grumpy brute of a man with the attitude of a caveman and the impatience of a toddler. But now things were different, Ben was your caveman with an impatience of a toddler, and you'd never felt this way about anyone else.

You'd never wanted anyone like you wanted Ben and couldn't see a future without him in it. Even in the earlier months the two of you were dating, you could see your life unfolding before your eyes. It felt crazy because you’d never been one to rush into anything, but with Ben the things that used to hold you back from jumping into the great unknown disappeared.

These days the unknown seemed to grow larger and larger by the minute, but instead of feeling uncomfortable about not knowing, you felt free.

Of course, the pregnancy was holding the gold medal for biggest source of the unknown.

It had been a surprise to find out that you were pregnant two and a half months ago. Not completely, given how enthusiastic, insatiable, and eager your boyfriend was when it came to sex or really how you were when it came to him.

In all honesty, you couldn't blame it all on Ben.

You were just as responsible for this as him given how much you seemed to want him all the time. Surprising, because you were never like this with your high school boyfriend or in any of the other sporadic relationships you'd had in the past, but you supposed that it was just Ben, that there was something about him that made you lose all sense of self-control. You also figured that you let the self-control drive long enough when you refused to admit how much you cared about him and now you owed it to yourself to throw it all out the window and lose yourself in everything he was.  

That being said, you were terrified the moment you found out you were pregnant. Ben had been away on a mission and you'd had to wait a week for him to get back while you sat with your grandmother on your couch for days. You hadn't wanted to tell Ben yet and especially not over the phone.

It didn't seem like something you said over the phone anyway.

Your grandmother had shown up a few hours after you took the seventh test, because you hoped that there was some kind of mistake with the first six. She'd seen the future before you had a chance to pick up the phone and give her a call, but you were grateful that she was there.

You needed her.

Annie would have come too, but she was out of town on the same mission that Ben was. And you were afraid to call for fear that Ben would hear you say it over the phone with his supe hearing. Texting her that you were pregnant meant that it would be in print somewhere with evidence and you didn't want the possibility of Ben seeing it on Annie's phone.

That last part seemed a little far fetched, because you didn't know why Ben would have Annie's phone, but you were allowing yourself to have a mini-freak out, you were pregnant.

But no matter how many scenarios you discussed with your grandmother, it always came back to one thing, you loved Ben and you wanted to have a baby with him. You just weren't sure of the timing.

The two of you had only been together for ten months then, and although you couldn't imagine yourself with anyone else, you were hesitant.

Ben was still adjusting to everything in the future and introducing a kid into his life could be chaotic and messy. You also weren't sure if it was a good idea given how insane Ben's life had been for the past forty years and how hard you were trying to give him a sense of normalcy in the time you'd been together.

But then you'd thought about it more.

The shop was doing well, you loved Ben, he loved you, you did want kids, and you were so happy that it made you believe that it was the right time.

Ben had been excited when you told him, but then you both realized the bigger dilemma, your apartment. It was already small with the two of you, Rex, and Bean. Ben didn't fit in the shower or in your bed and he barely fit in your kitchen when the two of you were standing in it, which meant that adding a kid to the mix would only make the apartment smaller.

You'd looked at an apartment five months ago, only because you saw how excited he was about something so mundane and it made your heart warm to see that he wanted to build a life with you, but you had hated the apartment. It reminded you of the terrible one he'd had at Vought.

And the one Ben was taking you to see today wasn't much better. This was number seventeen and you didn't have high hopes.

Ben takes a left turn, going over a speed bump that you somehow can't feel inside the cab.  His car was fancier than what you were used to and brand new. Ben had proudly told you that they weren't selling them in the United States yet, which begged the question: how in the hell had he gotten it? It had enough switches inside to make you fear about the probability of an ejector seat.

The first time he’d picked you up in it, you were grateful he’d opened the door for you when you tried to get out because you were sure that it would have taken you twenty minutes to figure that out on your own. You’d thought that Ben would have at least sprung for a car that was more low tech or something that reminded him of the life he had in the past, but no.

And now he was talking about getting another car for you that was higher off the ground to make sure that the baby would be safe. He kept saying how he didn't like you walking around when he wasn't there to go with you and a car would be safer, despite your protests that you liked walking and didn't need a car.

You never thought that Ben would be this overprotective, you should have, given how he acted like a helicopter parent after everything with Elijah, but he was.

The pregnancy only made it worse.

He never let you walk in your neighborhood or to work without him, claiming that it "wasn't safe" as if you weren't a supe and couldn't handle yourself. Whenever you went to the grocery store Ben tagged along frowning at whoever walked by with a shopping cart as if they were a threat. When somebody dropped a glass pickle jar two aisles over a few days ago and Ben had grabbed you and put you behind him so fast it made you dizzy.

Now whenever you tried to leave the apartment, Ben insisted that he could do whatever errand it was that you were going to do faster, and he was always reluctant to leave you at the plant shop, stating that you "shouldn't be lifting things." You'd even caught him reading one of your pregnancy books when he thought you were in the shower and he'd lied and said that it fell on the floor and he was 'just picking it up.' That didn't explain how he knew exactly what you should be eating and what vitamins you needed to take.

But instead of teasing Ben about it, you kept your mouth shut because you thought it was cute how much Ben cared about you and how excited he was about the baby.  You knew that he'd been waiting for this for much longer than you.

You'd woken up a few days ago with Ben's head on your stomach listening to the baby's heart-beat while he thought you were asleep murmuring things under his breath that you couldn’t hear.

It was those moments that made any anxiety you had about being a parent fade, because you knew that you weren't alone in this, that Ben was with you and he wasn't going anywhere.

“He’s an amazing actor and he’s definitely going on the list of people I’m allowed to cheat on you with.” You snort mind flitting to images of Jeff Goldblum lounging on a table clad in black, looking much too sexy for someone who was attacked by a t-rex.

“You realize that no matter how long that list gets you’re still not allowed to do that right?”  Ben glances over at you with a frown.

Ben looked good today. His dark hair was a little longer than usual- he kept saying that he needed to get a haircut but never did-, he was wearing a pair of sunglasses that made him look dangerous and sexy, and the blue jeans he was wearing were some of your favorites. They were worn in just right and each time Ben wore them it made it difficult for you to form a single sentence. Of course, the thing that made you want to jump his bones even more was the fact that Ben was wearing the dark green sweater you made him for Christmas.

You had been so scared to give it to him, but since that day, Ben wore it whenever he could, and whenever the two of you were out and he would get a compliment, because he always did, Ben would say proudly "my girlfriend made it for me."

“Sure. Just like I’m sure that no matter how long that list gets for you, if you ever cheat on me I’ll castrate you.” You reply, scrolling to a different listing on your phone. This one had a nice view of Central Park, but the living room looked big enough to park four SUV's in. It was too much, too big, and too cold.

No matter how many different apartments you looked at in person or online, you never seemed to find one that felt like home. In each one you'd found something that you didn't agree with, whether it be the bathroom, the lack of a washer/dryer, the neighborhood, or the layout, nothing felt right and you were starting to worry. At this rate you were sure that your child would be old enough to move out before the two of you found somewhere to live. You wanted a place that reminded you of your home back in Illinois with your grandmother, someplace that felt warm, someplace that you could see yourself raising a family, and something that felt permanent.

Your fingers go to the locket around your neck, rubbing your thumb over the cool metal surface, tracing the grooves and pattern on the front to ease your anxiety. It had been Ben's mother's, one of the only things that he had left of her, but it was something that he wanted you to have. It was the most important gift that you'd ever gotten in your entire life, because you knew what it represented. Your boyfriend might not be good with his words or expressing his emotions, but this locket said everything he couldn't.

Ben's eyes trace over where you sit. "What's wrong Petals?"

"Nothing-"

Ben sighs "You've got that scrunch between your eyebrows sweetheart. We both know you can't lie to me."

You hesitate. "I don't like that we haven't found a place yet."

"That why you can't sleep?"

You bite the inside of your cheek and look down at your lap. You didn't know that Ben had noticed how you weren't sleeping well and it had nothing to do with not being able to find an apartment.

At first you thought that it was the pregnancy, as if the almost constant morning sickness wasn't enough, making you have worse dreams than normal was the icing on top of the cake. You'd had nightmares in the past about your parents, but these dreams were different. They were all about your brother Darren and each time he stood in front of you his skin and flesh melted away leaving nothing more than a flickering outline that buzzed and popped like a hot stove before it fizzled up and disappeared.

You had no idea what it meant, but you didn’t want to bring it up to Ben, not when he was so happy. So you choose not to answer his question.

"We're going to find a place, this just takes time." He continues.

"Not for me. Not usually. I chose my last apartment within a weekend-"

"And look at how shitty it is!" Ben huffs. "I can't believe that you lived there as long as you did without getting mugged."

"I am able to handle myself. And if you recall you have seen me fight off muggers."

Ben's frown deepens. "Don't remind me." You watch his eyes flick down to where your hand rests gently on your abdomen. "Look Petals, I know you like our apartment, but it's not just us anymore."

"I know."

"I don't want to raise our kid in that building with Mike blowing out my fucking eardrums every morning. And I could do without his mother trying to hump my leg like a bitch in heat every time I take out the trash."

Your eyes water just a little when Ben says the word ‘our.’ It solidified the thought that you weren’t alone in this, that Ben wasn’t going to leave you. You didn't really believe that he would, but it was nice to be reminded once in a while.

"Aww she's your biggest fan. And I seem to remember you being into older women before we were together-"

"And I seem to remember you saying that you would castrate me if I cheated on you."

"I will castrate you, but Mike's mother doesn't count. She's your hall pass, just like Jeff Goldblum is mine."

"No, he's not."

"Debatable."

"Petals." Ben growls, throwing you a dark look from over the console that sends a shiver down your spine.

Before Ben you never thought that jealousy was attractive, didn't think that it was cute when your high school boyfriend Newton got jealous when someone else talked to you, but Ben could make even the most annoying things look sexy.

"You should keep your eyes on the road Gramps, wouldn't want to get in an accident."

"I don't fucking care. Keep talking like that sweetheart and I'm going to pull the car over and make sure that my name is the only one on those perfect lips."

You arch an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "Promise?"

"And you say it's me that always gets us into trouble." Ben chuckles with a dark look.

The car comes to a stop and you turn away from Ben's hypnotic gaze to stare out the window, expecting to see the beautiful all glass front of the apartment that was way out of your price range, but instead the car is sitting outside a house in quiet neighborhood overhung with large trees that weave together in a canopy over the street.

The house is three stories, made of red brick, the small yard in front is fenced with black wrought iron with a garden box lying beyond the metal spikes where someone has tried to grow plants, but was not having any success. There's a dark painted archway over the black door that boldly has the number of the home written in gold, and a large round window dominates the space to the left of the door cut into the red brick, that is partially obscured by a mass of tangled vines which cling to the outside of the house.

"So we're going to have sex in your car outside of this house? Feels like the homeowner's association will have a field day." You watch a couple walk past with matching dalmatians and cashmere sweaters. "Or we'd get arrested for public indecency when fido and fido's girlfriend call 911."

"Maybe later."

"Well then why did you stop? Did you get lost?" You turn to look at him. "It's okay if you did, I won't make fun of you-" You pause. "Never mind, I can't promise that."

Ben rolls his eyes. "No, I didn't get lost. I wanted you to see this place."

"Ben this is a house." You emphasize the word, your eyes widening. "Remember when we had the conversation about trying to get an apartment so I could at least help you with the rent."

It had been an awkward conversation, you felt bad about making him try to reign in something that made him so excited.

Now that you were part owner of the plant shop you were getting a little more money and didn't need to rely so heavily on Ben, but you still didn't like taking his money. Your grandmother had always instilled in you the importance of being independent and you'd never relied on someone the way you relied on Ben.

You'd always felt the need to prepare yourself for the worst, for having a back up plan if things didn't work out, and you were realizing just how much weight you put on your shoulders each day. Ben wanted to lighten the load, you knew that, but you were trying your best to put more trust in him, inching out from beneath the piano on your shoulders by letting him do more and more for you.

It was still hard.

"Petals." Ben touches your cheek, eyes softening and making your next words dry up. He didn't often do things like that in public, but each time he did it made you feel like warm butter on a hot stove.

When Ben had started calling you that a year ago it annoyed you to no end, but now he said it affectionately, with love and hope in his eyes, and it stirred something deep down.

"Let’s just look at this one. And if you don't like it, I promise I'll drive to whatever apartment you want me to okay?"

"But it's a-" You protest, but you lean into his touch.

"I know it's a house."

"Are you sure? They say that the eyes are the first thing to go, especially with someone your age Gramps."

He huffs out a breath in annoyance. "I don't know why I put up with this shit."

"Because you loooveee me." You coo poking his cheek.

The look in Ben's eyes softens again, slowly tracing down your form to your belly again, before coming back up to your face. "Only because you annoy me so much."

"Exactly." You reach for what you believe is the door handle and Ben's smile drops into a frown.

You retract your hand. “It’s not the door handle is it?”

“Not in case you want to crawl out the window.”

“I do like to make an entrance.”

“You always do baby. Even when you’re not trying.” Ben winks and gets out of the car, walking around the back to open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You say taking his hand without hesitation.

The house looks even bigger when you gaze up at it from the sidewalk, but you can't help but admit that the house is beautiful in it's own way. It has more character than the other ones on the street that look like carbon copies of one another. It wore it's weirdness like a badge of honor, just like you always had.

And even with the small garden out front filled with dead plants that rot in the wooden garden box and the tangled vines that cover the circular front window, you can see the potential it has.

"I like the trees." You say, gesturing with the hand that's not holding on to Ben's at the canopy of large oak trees over the road that block the brilliant sunlight and leave the imprint of their outstretched branches on the pavement.

"I thought you would." Ben squeezes your hand.

"So where's our realtor?" You glance around the empty road for the sleek black Mercedes that "Tina," aka the most nosy woman in the world and your realtor, drove, but you don't see it.

"She said that she wanted to give us some space." He tugs you forward, opening the gate as he does.

"Thank God. If she tried to touch my stomach one more time or eye fuck you when she thought I wasn't looking, I was going to perform open heart surgery on her with her stilettos."

"Would have loved to see that Petals. Maybe I should have let her come today."

"Do you remember how strong Homelander was? Because I'm about to show you that he was nothing compared to a pregnant woman scorned." You warn, but Ben only laughs at you.

Your gaze falls to the attempted garden. Rosebushes, lavender, tulips, and many other flowers lie in states of decay choked with weeds, while other plants that you can't identify lie shriveled up and brown on the darkened soil. It tugs at your heart to see them that way, unloved and uncared for, left to curl up and die.

You feel your eyes shift to green calling forth the flowers, bringing them to the light, drawing them upwards to unfurl in the light of the sun and absorb the healing rays. The plants brighten and explode with pops of color that fuse the front of the house with new life and jasmine flowers bloom along the ivy that crawls up the side of the house sending the comforting smell over you as it takes on a more controlled woven tapestry rather than the chaotic snarl it was moments ago. Bougainvillea stretches up to weave itself above the front door, the dark red blooms contrasting with the black door. The circular window winks at you, and through the glass you can just barely see a hint of lightly painted walls beyond.

Your gaze falls to the small area in front of the house.

You could see yourself out here wearing your gardening hat with Bean and Rex sunning themselves in the sunlight while you weed with sweat sticking your shirt to your back and while dirt stains your fingers. Your eyes flick to the empty front steps, imagining Ben and you sitting there with cups of coffee steaming beside the two of you, with your head against his shoulder reading the paper he has open in front of him.

No, not thinking that. This is a house. Ben and I are looking for an apartment.

"Couldn't help yourself could you Petals?" Ben murmurs, dragging your attention back to him.

"No. Though I might want a commission from helping the seller with the curb appeal."

Ben rolls his eyes, but pulls you up the cheerful concrete steps to the black door before he takes a key from his pocket.

You eye it suspiciously.

"Tina gave it to me." He says with a shrug.

"That better be the only thing she gave you." Your eyes narrow, thinking of all the things that Tina could have done to your boyfriend when you weren't around.

"Jealous?" Ben's smile slips into a smirk. "Need I remind you of all the things you said you were going to let Jeff Goldblum do to you?"

"Need I remind you about the threat of castration?"

Ben leans down towards you, his breath warm against your ear, so close that you could smell his cologne. "We both know that you like what I do to you too much to cut it off Petals, especially now."

A pleasurable shiver traces your spine with his words and as much as you hated to admit it, Ben was right. As insatiable as you'd been for Ben before you were pregnant, now it had only multiplied ten fold.

In the first few weeks of your pregnancy you couldn’t have imagined wanting to have sex with Ben, the near constant morning sickness, swollen breasts, and nausea left little to be desired, but as you slowly began to inch into your second trimester you felt a change. It was like a switch had flipped. Yes the morning sickness came in waves, but your hormones bumped around inside from sick, to sad, to angry, to loving, to aroused so fast it didn’t matter for long and you were both reaping the benefits. Ben was eager to help you in any way he could and due to his supe enhancements he was able to keep up and keep you more than happy.

You fist your hand in the front of his shirt to pull his face down to yours, lips inches apart, your eyes narrowed, but pupils blown with lust. "Don't tease me right now Gramps."

"Wouldn't dream of it doll." Ben purrs, his eyes darkening.

Fuck.

You didn’t want to give in, but whenever Ben looked at you like that it made your skin heat and your heartbeat feel like thunder, vibrating through your entire body.

Ben leans towards you, but just before your lips touch his, he scoops you up into his arms and crosses the threshold.

“Ben what the hell are you doing?” You laugh, pushing at his chest.

“What? Was I not supposed to carry you across?” He pretends to be surprised.

“That’s only if we’re married dummy and this isn’t our house.”

“Oh well then it’s good practice.” Ben smirks and finally kisses you, drawing you tighter against his chest for a few precious seconds. It wasn't the kiss you expected a moment ago, this kiss was hungry, but not rushed, passionate, but not aggressive, and yet it was all consuming.

You sigh into his mouth, holding the front of his shirt tightly. You’d never gotten used to how it felt to kiss him, how everything else melted away except for him and you. Even when you’d hated him, Ben still knew exactly how to kiss you to take away all your inhibitions.

You could easily see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. And given the revelation that you potentially could live forever, it meant even more. You know that it made Ben feel good too. That he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to be alone ever again, that he could love someone the way he loved you and be unafraid of losing you.

Ben pulls back a wide smirk on his face. "I'm sorry wasn't that what you wanted? For me to bring you inside?" The look in his eyes shifts to amusement with his taunt. "Or were you thinking about me fucking you against the front door for fido and his girlfriend to see?"

"Shut up." Your cheeks heat in embarrassment that your boyfriend could read you that well.

"Because I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing Petals, but if you want we can go back outside and-"

You force his face down to yours, shutting him up the only way you know how. Ben groans into your mouth as your hands work their way up into his hair to hold him in place, your lips fervently moving against his as the warmth of arousal begins to thrum through your veins and pool in the pit of your stomach.

You pull back out of breath, fingers still tangled in Ben's long hair, your gaze locking on his. Ben's eyes are dark, lips curved up into a knowing smirk that, if Ben wasn't holding you in his arms, would make your legs give out. One of his arms is underneath your knees, but the other is around your chest, and you can feel Ben's hand fitting comfortably over the bump hidden beneath your t-shirt, absorbing the steady thud of your child's heartbeat against the palm of his hand. Something lurked behind the familiar green in his eyes, something that you could feel bubbling up in your own chest the longer you stared at him.

"Come on I want you to see the house." Ben mutters pressing one more kiss against your lips before he gently places you on the hardwood floor.

"I know. Stop distracting me." You say as you flip your hair over your shoulder.

"I'm a wonderful distraction. Wouldn't mind distracting you a little longer." His arm comes up to wrap tight around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. Ben’s lips trail down to your neck, nipping at the smooth flesh of your throat.

“Ben.” You half moan, leaning back into him. "Please."

"I know baby." He hums. "But lets look at the house first. After I'll give you what you need."

"Tease." You mutter under your breath earning a chuckle from Ben.

The two of you are standing in a foyer with a large staircase in front of you that leads to the second and third story of the house. A lightly painted hallway stretches beyond it, and a living room lies to the left through a wide doorway. The interior of the house is a mix of old and new, vintage and modern, with warm colored hardwood floors running throughout, lightly painted walls, and with dark colored wooden baseboards and door frames.

It reminded you of your grandmother's house back in Illinois and even without furniture the inside of this house felt like home. It wasn't drafty, too white, too new, too old, or too cold- it existed in the perfect harmony that Ben and you had been looking for since you started looking for an apartment.

No. This is a house. This is the complete opposite of what Ben and I are looking for.

You remind yourself as you walk into the small room to the left of the front door. There's a giant fireplace on the opposite wall with neatly placed built ins on either side. Natural sunlight came through the large circular window on the front of the house, giving you a view of the garden you'd reinvigorated with new life and the quiet street overhung with trees outside.

You could see yourself reading quietly on a plush armchair in the corner while Bean and Rex sunned themselves on the wooden floors or sitting on a couch and cuddling with Ben under a blanket in front of the fireplace when it got too cold outside, nestling into his warmth to keep the chill at bay.

You drift through the other doorway across from the circular window that leads into a dining room area. It has the same wonderfully natural colored hardwood floor so soft you were sure that it would feel like butter beneath your bare feet. You run a finger tip over the wooden doorway, feeling the smooth, strong wood beneath your hand. You could still see notches in the boards from where another family had measured how tall their children were growing with every passing year and it made you smile to yourself.

This house had character, had a history. It wasn't built in haste to house a population of people who probably would spend more time out than in, it was built with love and care, and had charm. It was what the apartments that Ben and you had seen wasn't.

Ben hovers behind you silently, watching you move through the space with curiosity. He drinking in your expressions and trying to see what you thought. You had no idea how he found this place, not when the two of you had been looking at huge modern apartments in buildings that weren't more than a year old.

The kitchen is even more impressive.

It's modern, with stainless steel appliances, light granite countertops, and a dark green backsplash, but somehow still holds some of the vintage charm that merges seamlessly together with the new appliances.

You could see yourself making jams for the farmer's market at the stove, making dinner for your family or sitting with Annie at the counter with glasses of wine lamenting over everything Hughie and Ben did to annoy the two of you while secretly loving them all the more for it. You could see yourself dancing with Ben to ABBA while the lights were low and he got home from work, just as you had seen your parents do years ago and imagined a vase filled with flowers on the counter that Ben brought home just because he felt like it, not because it was a special occasion. Ben did that for you every week, brought home flowers because he knew how much they made you smile.

"This kitchen is huge!" You exclaim, spreading your arms out to twirl in a circle. "Annie and Hughie could fit in here too!"

Ben frowns at your mention of Hughie.

"What?" You lean over the counter to stare at Ben. "You know that if we get a bigger place they're going to come over for dinner more often right? I'm thinking Friday nights they could come over for dinner and a movie-"

It was a tradition that your parents had started, that Annie and you carried on when they died, and now Ben picked up the slack. Spending Friday nights on the couch under a blanket eating greasy pizza out of the box had seemed like a foreign concept for Ben, but now it was him that always made sure that he was home on Friday nights to make it to movie night so you could cuddle up against him under the warm blankets.

"I think we see them enough." Ben leans on his side of the counter across from you with a frown. "Plus, I thought that you would like a kitchen a little bit bigger to make me dinner."

“Or maybe," You tap your chin as if deep in thought, eyes narrowing. "The kitchen is big enough for you to start pulling your weight. Doing the dishes, cleaning up, trying to make dinner for your pregnant girlfriend-“ You count off on your fingers.

“How long are you going to use that excuse?”

“For the next 7ish months or so."

Ben huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes at you, while you continue to move through the kitchen.

There's a giant living area just beyond that you can imagine Ben and you sitting on the couch in front of a TV watching another one of his ridiculous films or see you and your child sitting on the couch reading a book together while Ben sits beside you with his arm around your shoulders. You didn't know the sex of the baby, wanted to wait a little longer to see how things progressed before you found out.

But each day it became more real.

You could hear the pitter patter of feet across the floor and the squeals of an imaginary child racing through with Ben hot on their heels trying to catch them, could see a child with a smaller Rex wrapped around the back of their shoulders feeding him bits of strawberries, and could see a child in a highchair while Ben and you tried to feed them spaghetti. Your left hand drops to your belly again as you think of what the future could look like and the longer that you stand inside this house the more you can see yourself living here with Ben, having a life here together.

You hadn't seen that anywhere else that the two of you had gone to see in the past few months. It made all of this even more real.

I'm going to be a mom.

The thought lodged in the back of your throat. You were excited, but you were also a little worried. You didn't know the first thing about being a mom and no matter how many books you read or how many blogs you found, you felt underprepared.

Not to mention you could still remember all the videos that you'd had to watch in middle school about childbirth that were made to scare students into being celibate and it only made your anxiety worse.

"What are you thinking about Petals?" Ben asks, coming around the counter and turning you in his arms. His face is twisted into a concerned frown.

Tears were building behind your eyes now, your emotions getting the best of you. It was easy for you to cry about nothing at all, but this was different. Your future was slipping through your fingers, unfolding in front of you in this house. It reminded you of how you'd felt for the past few years when all you wanted was to fall in love and be loved by someone. The lovesick feeling that followed you around as you tried your best to find a man who would make you happy the way that Hughie made Annie happy, but never seemed to find the right one before you met Ben.

"This place it's perfect, but-"

"But what?" Ben's thumb brushes the tears away, eyes focused on you. Whenever Ben looked at you like that you thought that he could see through you to the pieces that no one else ever cared to uncover.

"It's a house." You breathe leaning into his touch.

"And you don't like it?"

"No, I love it." You whisper, but you feel a little frustrated. "I can see us here. See a ridiculously big Christmas tree in that corner," You point to the living room. "See breakfasts on this counter," you gently slide your hand along the marble countertop. "See us watching movies in the living room on our couch and see our kids running around outside in that back yard." You gesture to the all glass back wall of the house where there's a finished patio and a surprisingly large lawn outside, but stranger is the giant greenhouse that sits just beyond.

"So what's the problem?"

"I mean… it's not what we talked about. Can we even afford this?"

You knew that Ben could afford it, you just weren't sure about you. 

Ben is quiet for a minute, before he takes your hand and tugs you in the direction of the backyard. "I want you to see something."

"Something? The house isn't-"

"There's one more thing." He squeezes your hand and takes you outside.

There is a canopy of trees that shields the patio from the sun overhead that has begun to descend behind the houses on the street, the clouds turning a burnished gold in the light as it says goodbye. 

The two of you follow the path of stones neatly laid in the lush grass, leading to the greenhouse that looks much bigger than it did from inside. It easily reaches to the second story of the house and has a black iron skeleton that holds together the pieces of glass artfully placed in different shapes and sizes.

Ben turns to look at you. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Do you trust me Petals?" He looks at you, his green eyes catching yours, wide and open. You knew that he knew the answer to that question, but you also knew that Ben never believed that someone like you could or should trust him.

You promised yourself when the two of you started dating that you would make Ben feel special each day the same way he made you feel special and made Ben understand that you loved him and you weren't going anywhere.

The things that Countess did to him still weighed on his heart, but you were happy to see that after one year with you, Ben was different. He was more open to telling you what he was feeling, (one word answers), he was more open to sharing memories with you, (only a sentence usually), and Ben was getting comfortable using the word "love." It had taken him a solid three months to say it, but Ben didn't need to say it, you knew it was true long before he uttered it aloud.

"Of course I do." You lean into him, your free hand coming to rest on his chest. There was a slight chill on the edge of the wind, a promise of winter, but the warmth of Ben's body shields you from the breeze.

"Then close your eyes." He repeats.

There's something dancing in his expression that you can't place, but your gaze travels down to his shoulders and you realize that Ben is nervous. You'd never seen your boyfriend nervous in a while, the last time was when he gave you the locket that hung between your collar bones.

But you do as he says and he brings you inside. "Okay, open."

When you do, your heart stutters to a stop in shock.

The greenhouse isn't empty. There are rows of citrus trees with lemons, oranges, and tangerines, apple trees with bright red fruit, potted blueberry plants, vegetables, and herb plants sitting on low tables, woven vines of raspberry and blackberry plants on trellises that cover the walls, and a collection of potted strawberry plants one of which is in a pot that looks a lot like the one that Darren broke when he came through the window of your apartment one year ago.

There's a circular staircase to the left of the door that would take you up to a second story where there are even more plants, but also a sitting area that feels warm and bright, and has a fan hanging over to make sure that it stayed just a little cool in the warm month. It would be the perfect place to read and relax, more so than the room inside you noticed when you walked into the house.

On the bottom floor there is a potting bench surrounded by flowering plants pushed against the right wall where new tools hang and colorful pots are placed. There's also an obscene amount of bagged potting soil stacked up higher than you are tall just to the left of it.

You gently lay your hand on the wood of the bench to feel how soft it is. The wood has been sanded down to be smooth as silk and you look to the right to see that next to it, is a identical bench but smaller with tools made of plastic for a child and a small apron that matched the one hanging from a hook fastened to the greenhouse wall.

Is that for-

The thought stutters to a halt. You didn't understand why this was here. A greenhouse in New York City wasn't odd, but the fact that there was one almost two stories tall and contained everything you might need to expand the farmer's market you had grown to love so much at the back of this house was odd.

There's a potted gardenia sitting on top of the bench and the bright smell brings the gentle comfort of home as the delicate flowers bend towards you.

Being in here is the same way you feel whenever you're in the plant shop. You could feel the new life curling beneath the soul, feel the thrum of energy from the plants that turned towards you expectantly, and feel the way your powers reached out to them to offer a healing hand.

"Ben, why is this here?" You ask confused.

 Ben clears his throat. "You know I hate that fucker, but he works fast."

"Who?" You turn to him.

"Jake." Ben says simply. He's leaning against the doorway watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Jake did this?" You gesture to the greenhouse full of plants, enough plants that you would be able to supply the farmer's market each week without batting an eye. Now, you used the plants in your apartment, but there never seemed to be enough to keep up with the demand, but here-

Wait a minute this is crazy. This isn't our house. What the hell is going on?

“I thought you needed a little more product and he told me he’d take care of it.”

"But why was Jake-"

"I figured it out Petals, why none of those other places felt right." He interrupts. "I didn't get it before, why you didn't like the apartments we went to see, why you kept finding something wrong with them. Fuck, I made fun of you for saying shit like 'the ceiling is too high,' but as soon as I found this place I knew it was right."

"What are you talking about?" You still didn't understand why any of this was here.

Why would Ben want Jake to bring all these plants here if we're just looking at this house.

“I lied." Ben crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his shoulders as if it makes him uncomfortable to admit it.

“About what?” You frown.

Ben didn't like lying to you, you knew that, and you liked how brutally honest Ben was about everything.  Trust was a two way street between the two of you, and just as Ben didn't lie to you, you didn't lie to him- well… Ben always seemed to know when you were lying, but that didn't change the fact that you didn't like lying to him.

“I didn’t tell Tina not to come today and we were never going to see that apartment. I told you that to get you to come with me.”

“Why?” You draw out the word still confused.

“Because I already bought this house.” Ben smiles tightly.

“You WHAT?!” You screech eyes widening. “Why?!”

“For the same reason you said Petals, it’s perfect.”

“But- But-" You don't know how to respond to what he's admitted. "You said we were just looking! That this place is-"

Ben shakes his head with a sigh as he takes a step closer to where you stand. "It's funny that I lived this long and still somehow happened to fall in love with someone a little more old-fashioned, but I fucking love that about you, that you're not like anyone else." He reaches across the space to take your hand in his, the warm calloused palm fitting perfectly over yours.

"What does that have to do with the house?”

"Apartments don't feel permanent, not to you, they feel temporary, but a house… it makes this real." Ben swallows. "And I want this to be real."

You blink in confusion, worried about him. "Ben, what are you talking about?" You squeeze his hand trying to comfort him. "This is real." Your free hand comes up to cup his bearded cheek, that prickles against your skin. "I love you. Nothing is going to change that. Not the baby or where we live or-"

"I know that." He laughs. "I mean this." Ben gestures with his free hand to the greenhouse and then back at the home behind the two of you. "There's room for our kid and for as many as you'll let me give you. There's room for Diana, and even though I know she'd rather die in that house in Illinois than move here,  I'm going to try my damndest to get her here so she can be with you. I know how much you miss her. And as much as I hate the idea, there's even room for Annie and fucking Hughie if they want to stay the night." He grumbles with a sigh. "It's a good neighborhood, so I won't have to worry about you getting mugged or some shit when I'm stuck with that British fuck somewhere else, and it's close to schools that my old man would have probably liked, but I want our kids to be safe and have a good education."

“But-“

“I know it’s a house.” Ben breathes. “But just listen for a minute.”

You swallow the lump in the back of your throat, more tears building in your eyes. It was hard to be angry with him over something that you wanted as much as he did. And the truth was, you weren't angry with him for buying the house. It again represented the one thing that you'd told Ben that night at Vought, that you liked gifts that meant something, and standing here in the greenhouse that Ben had made sure was filled with enough plants to support your dream in the backyard of the house Ben bought not only for you but for your children, made you want to melt into a puddle.

Because Ben was ensuring the two of you had a future, that your children had a future, and you didn't think that you could love him any more than you already did.

“When I took you to Vought I didn't know any better. I was comparing you to the women I used to fuck around with and what they would have wanted, what they would have thought was special." Ben's jaw tightens and you wonder if he's thinking about Countess. "But I wanted to give you that life because I thought it's what you would want and because I wanted to take care of you, but I was wrong." Ben gestures with his free hand back to the house again and then looks at you, the sunlight catching the flecks of gold in his eyes like stars. "This is what you want Petals. This life. A house on a quiet street away from it all where you can garden and read and exist in a world that isn't fucked up with supes and compound V."

You’re speechless now, tears trailing down your cheeks.

“I’ve lived in a lot of different places and I forgot what it was like to have a home and for the longest time I didn’t understand what I was missing. I had money, I had fame, I had women willing to do whatever I wanted, and I had people worshipping me, but I was missing something.” He trails his thumb over your cheek again with a soft smile. “Turns out it was you. You’re fucking annoying, you get under my skin, you make me feel like a complete asshole when I make you cry, you somehow find some little thing to complain about when I do something for you-“

“Again why do you always sound like you’re insulting me whenever you try to confess how you feel?” You laugh, but it comes out more of a sob.

“Shut up.” Ben rolls his eyes with a sigh, but there’s not bite to his words. “You always interrupt me.”

“Because you always insult me!” You rub at your eyes with the back of your hand.

“I have told you on numerous fucking occasions that I’m not good with words!”

“But-“

“Shh.” He puts his hands on your cheeks. “You're so different than anyone I've ever met. You drive me fucking crazy. Any other man would have jumped off a building by now, but-“ He shakes his head with a wide smile. “I fucking love it and I'm so fucking lucky that you decided to love me."

"You didn't give me much choice. It was you that insisted on living in my shitty apartment." You breathe, your hands moving up the soft fabric of his t-shirt to rest against his chest. "I did my best to drive you away, but you wouldn't leave. And you call me stubborn."

"Nothing you could have done would have driven me away Petals." His hand falls to where yours rests on his chest, and gently holds your wrist. "Nothing you can do will drive me away. Not now, not ever."

The love in his eyes makes your lungs stop working. He was looking at you the way you always wanted someone to, as if he could see past flesh and bone and into your soul and saw your worth, as if Ben saw every little piece of you that you tried to hide and didn't care.

"And nothing that you've done will drive me away Ben." You whisper leaning in to him. "You can't change the past."

"I know." He swallows tightening his grip on your wrist. “And I know you keep saying that you don’t want me to pay for everything because you want to be more independent, and you’re worried that we can’t afford this, but fuck even if you told me you wanted to stay in that shitty apartment building, I’d buy the whole thing and make everyone leave just to make sure that you and our kid is safe."

Determination flickers in his eyes and you believe it, because you know that Ben would do anything for you. 

"But I knew the moment I saw this house that this was what you wanted, that this life is what you've wanted. I know that you like to do things for yourself, but I didn’t buy the house because I didn't think that you couldn’t help me… it’s because I wanted to do this for you. I like doing things for you because I love you.”

"I love you too." You smile up at him a little misty eyed, but happy.

Ben's jaw tightens for a moment before he says his next words. "I'm not going to lie, I've imagined this kind of life before when I was with Countess."

You fight the wave of anger that surges with her name in your chest. You hated her for what she did to Ben and what she did to your grandmother, and wished that before Ben blew her to kingdom come, you had an hour with her to show her what it was like to get poison ivy shoved up her ass.

But it was unusual of Ben to mention her. He didn't often bring her up in conversation.

"I started imagining it after I visited Diana. I saw how happy she was with your grandfather and with your dad when he was a kid. I wanted that. But each time I tried to imagine what it was like with Countess, it never fit, something was wrong. And I know now that it's because it wasn't with you. It never looked like the life we have together and I wouldn't trade that for another second of fame."

"Ben-" You breathe his name, tears cresting over your cheeks.

"The moment I walked in the front door of this place I knew it was right. I knew this was the place that we were going to raise our children. I see us here too Petals. I see myself coming through the front door and you fucking tackling me because you can't wait long enough for me to close the door. I see us on the couch in front of the fire making love. I see you upstairs in the nursery painting the walls with paint in your hair even though I told you I was going to do it. I see you singing a fucking ABBA song while you rock our child in your arms. And I see you out here in this greenhouse doing what you love and me being happy because I know you're safe and I don't have to worry that I'm going to get home and you won't be there or worse." Ben's jaw tightens at the thought. "I want this with you for the rest of my life and I don't care if I sound like a fucking pussy for admitting that."

Ben drops down to one knee

"Wait what are you-" You begin to say, but Ben pulls a small box out of his pocket that makes you forget how to breathe entirely.

"So I’m asking you to let me give this to you and to our children, because I feel like I’m finally coming home and I don’t want to be anywhere else, just with you."

You stand there for a moment speechless, staring down at where Ben is on one knee. "Are you asking me to move in with you?" You try to smirk at your joke, remembering what Ben asked you the night he came home.

"No." Ben smiles opening the box. "I'm asking you to marry me."

You'd like to say that the ring is beautiful, but truthfully you don't look at it. As soon as the words are out of Ben's mouth you throw yourself against him so hard that he loses his balance and tumbles back onto the pavement, while catching you on top of him to make sure that no part of you hits the ground and make sure the baby is safe.

"Wha-" He begins to say, but you shut him up, your mouth falling against his so hard that you think that you hear the click of your teeth, but you can't stop.

Not when the man below you has your whole heart and had it the second you let him spend the night in your apartment all those months ago, not when he has been everything you needed for so long that the thought of him leaving would destroy you, and not when he is the only person in the world who sees all of you and asked for more.

Ben's body relaxes under yours as he deepens the kiss, drinking you in like he can't get enough, his hands coming up to hold you tighter against him, before he flips you over onto the ground as gently as he can so he's hovering over you. His dark hair is falling forward into his face, eyes bright with mischief, as he stares down at you.

"Is that a yes?" He smirks.

"It's a maybe." Your hands entwine at the back of his neck. "If you reconsider the hall pass option with Jeff Goldblum."

Ben kisses you so hard you see stars. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

"You know you love it, and I plan on annoying you for the rest of my life Gramps. You should get used to it."

"Do you promise Petals?" Ben breathes against your lips, eyes focused on yours.

"I promise. You're stuck with me."

"I can't imagine anything better sweetheart." He kisses you again, but pulls back with a unreadable expression. "Are you mad I lied?” He breathes against your lips.

“No. Because I lied too.”

“About what?” Ben looks confused.

“All of this. It isn’t what I imagined. It isn't what I thought falling in love would look like. It isn't what I expected and it's different than what I told you at that fundraiser.” Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him above you, refusing to let him go for even a second.

Ben's smirk drops into a worried frown that you kiss away, the warmth of his body around you like a warm bath.

“It’s better.” You breathe against his lips, watching the way his eyes brighten.

When he looked at you like that it made you feel like you'd swallowed the sun and it was bursting out of your fingertips. You never wanted to lose his lovelight and you wanted to spend the rest of your life being his.

The world outside the greenhouse falls away and you're left with Ben, the man you couldn't help but fall head over heels with the night you decided to take a chance.

A/N: I'm not crying, it's just raining on my face 😭. This reader and this version of Soldier Boy hold such a special place in my heart. Oh goodness I didn't think that we'd ever get here, but wow😊. This fic series wasn't just me writing, it was me being filled with the constant love and support of all of y'all helping me towards the goal and I am so grateful for everyone who reblogged, commented, liked, and loved the story just as much as I did 💗. I could not have done this without y'all. I am going to write a mini-series for them and I have some fic ideas for the two of them, so it is not goodbye completely, it's just I'll see you in a little while. Seriously though, thank you so much to everyone 🥰

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

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@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

[thal-ent]

The annoyance

(Kate is @yanasae 's character, a lot more from others are mentionned cw for unknowingly misgenring someone, internalized transphobia, unsafe binding mentionned for like a line, and because I can't stop myself there's background Basgil lol)

It's 2022, and the start of the year was comparable to hell on earth.

Virgil, quite honestly, didn't understand a thing about what happened. The people around him speak a language he doesn't understand, and even the... Help of a man who somehow spoke romanian didn't do much. He's been assigned classes to learn english and japanese, to be able to communicate with others in the school. Some speak romanian like him, but he doesn't approach them. He shouldnt even be here, hundred of thousands of kilometers away from his village, but the letters were very clear about the fact he didn't have a choice.

He tries to remember the faces of the people he'll have to share a year with. The small, angry boy with pinkish hair. The tall... Girl ? With a bag on her head. The guy that tries to avoid attention who he shares his room with. The girl with a fake leg and a cane, like the old hunters from his village, who tried to talk to him before leaving when he didn't respond. The boy with white hair who looks even more lost than Virgil. The girl all in pink that he already can't stand when she talks. Another boy with white hair, one he almost didn't notice until he saw how nobody could touch that boy. The chaotic brown haired girl that kept yelling and had to be stopped by a big guy with blonde hair, both covered in scars.

He didn't remember any of their names. Names weren't exactly his thing. Neither was learning theory, but he knew Marius would want to know, so he sits through words he barely recognize and a translator at the ready. He's not the only one who gets one, the girl with the bag and another with blonde and pink hair get ones as well.

There's also the weather. He refuses to take off the vest of the uniform they make them wear. He considers himself lucky to get pants, and not a skirt that would have been humiliating, but they dont do a lot to hide his silhouette. His coat is hung in the closet they gave them, but he's not allowed to wear it as long as it's still warm. But that's the problem, it's too warm. For the first time in his life, Virgil misses the fresh air of his village, the cold that lingers well into the spring. Here he only has the rain to help, always gone too fast.

He does wear something less covering sometimes. They let the students like him use the sports' equipment, the man with glasses and one blue eye who spoke romanian said but didn't elaborate on. There's always people here, and they stopped trying to talk to him after he stopped paying attention to them. Well, that's not true. He did speak with one of them, a very tall girl without hair. He didn't catch her name, but she pointed the cross on his chest and showed her own. They shared a few words in latin, despite her weird dialect. She didn't talk a lot, and went back to a weird girl with curly brown hair after, but Virgil liked that girl.

But he didn't have time to waste on that. The training was nice, when less people were here and he felt like he could drop the bandages on his chest. He hated their surprised gaze, but ultimately his fell on someone else. He was still a hunter, the "Ultimate vampire hunter" if you believed what that letter said. And he started to suspect a vampire was in the school, hidden in plain sight. A red head, green eyes constantly hidden by glasses. Virgil doesn't know his name, only that he's apparently from the year before him. He's tall, skinny and almost... Pathetic. But something is weird with this boy.

He's been following him, when the annoyance first made herself known.

She was a girl from his class, one of the shorter names. She has ginger and pink hair, but not a pink like the one of the girl with the tablet. A flashier one, and longer hair tied in a way Virgil knows is to avoid it being caught while moving. She's way shorter than him, tries to not look like the kid she obviously is.

She starts speaking, but he doesn't understand. He thinks he recognizes a word or two, but when he tries to walk past her and follow his prey, she puts herself on his path, stopping him. He tries to go to her other side, but she follows, making him loose the boy he was looking at. She pulls out her phone and types on it before showing the screen to him.

"Fight me" is written in romanian, next to what he guesses is probably french or english. He only looks more confused, so she types again. "I want to fight you, I want to know what a "vampire hunter" fights like"

He groans, really not wanting to. She's barely 16, obviously just trying to get a rise out of him. But what does he has to loose ? His prey is far by now, and he knows the look of someone who refuses "no" as an awnser, he was one like her once.

So he follows her, gets the sword she gives him. It's lighter than he's used to, less deadly as well, but he guess that's the point. They're not here to kill each other, they're here to spar. But he was told to always give his all, even against the kids that barely started training. Her stance is firm, she knows what she's doing.

They trade large swipes for a moment, test the waters. He's not used to the weapon, and knows he's less agile than he would, feels the bandages on his chest limit his hair intake. But it's all details, when she looks at him with the determination of someone who has a thing to prouve. She's weird.

It doesn't take very long until he's able to push her and puts his sword on her throat, pinning her hands under his knees. She grimaces, but lets her head fall to the ground with a thud. He goes back up, keeps his eye on her. The crowd that formed around them starts to clap, as if given a good spectacle. She gets back up and goes to her phone, showing it in his face once again.

"why did I loose ?" He makes a face, one he knows she can't read. So she puts the phone in his hand, and he starts to write slowly.

"you dont try to kill." And she doesn't respond, which Virgil takes as a promise to let him get away.

He hopes she wont bother him again.

**

Of course she kept bothering him.

One loss wasn't enough for Kate, no. She kept pestering Virgil, calling his name and yelling for his attention, even when he was trying to be calm.

It's 2023 now, a full year passed and he's still in this school. He speaks relatively good english now, so they left the phone on the side. Hers is miles better than his, but she corrects his mistakes when they happen, free of jugement. He started to get closer to some people in his class, his dormmate and Mika, notably. He also stopped treating the boy from the year before him like a prey. Turns out, Bastien is way nicer when you speak to him.

Kate tho ? She's unsufferable in a very weird way. She gave him a gift for his birthday, and he still doesn't know how she learned the date it was on. But now, he traded bandages for a binder, and his ribs feel better than they had in years. They still spared a lot, Kate an eternal looser.

She's weird, he thinks. She looks dejected everytime, but keeps coming back for more, especially when he's with someone. She doesn't ask for tips, learns on her own and sees how he steadies himself, how he holds his weapon. She just doesn't get she doesn't have to only use that, for fighting.

She's a self imposed loner, and he can respect that. So he never mentions how she always come find him when they're eating. Once she asked how he got his scars on his eye, and was genuinely surprised when he told her vampires are indeed real, and that he killed more of them than he knew actual humans.

He's surprised when Emerens doesn't joke about him liking Kate or the opposite, but he appreciate it, his relationship to the girl everything but romantic. Instead, the man whines about his own partners while teaching Virgil english when Mika isn't available, and Virgil shuts his mouth by teaching him latin.

He started running with the tall girl who spoke latin, Tomyris. She's nice, they understand each other despite their diverging faiths. He often ends up holding their running partner Subaru on his back for the latter parts of the way, and they always talk. It's nice.

He misses Marius and his parents, but he finds himself not missing his village as much.

**

It's 2024, and he knows that if she could, Kate would have pushed him into one of the hall's walls by now.

They're friends now, he thinks. She's still annoying in her own way, learned to bite her way through their fights, and that's how they ended up here. Her eyes are full of something akin to fury, making their gray look black. He knows why she's angry, she's the second person to notice it, in Hope's Peak. Or at least to mention it to him. He doesn't wear the jacket anymore, but still wears the long sleeved shirt of the uniform, white on white.

She tried to bite his arm but only found solid, cold silicone instead of the meat of flesh and blood.

"What the fuck happened."

"I'm a hunter, Kate, it comes with risks." he said the same to Bastien, to his shocked horror. He told him it was a necessary sacrifice and he'll say the same to Kate.

"You lost your fucking arm ! That's not a fucking "risk" !" he knows she wants to say other swears than "fucking", but she speaks in english out of respect for him and her vocabulary is limited in that language.

"But i'm alive, so it was a good one."

She looks at him with wild eyes, and he doesn't know if she's about to punch his face or headbutt it. He braces himself for it anyway, but she just lets go of his shirt.

"That better be the last of your "sacrifices". That's..." her voice trembles, and he puts his flesh hand on her head, pats it in a weird show of affection they never shared.

"I'll try." he said the same to Marius, when he woke up. She's not his brother, nor his sister, but he doesn't like seeing her annoyed by something that is not a petty lost game.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ𝒄.𝒂𝒊 ｡✭･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

What I love about Dungeon Meshi is that it writes platonic relationships with the same weight romantic stories would normally be written.

The Character that Got Their Heart Broken Too Many Times

Humanity broke Laois' heart. This is taken advantage later on by the Wingled Lion, but I digress.

Laois got bullied in all-boys school to the point that he ran away to become a soldier. Heartbreak #1.

He got harrassed in the training camp to the point that he became a deserter. Heartbreak #2.

The combination of these events were so bad, his lack of basic self-care can be a sign of a depressive state. If Falin hadn't joined him, who knows what would've happened to him.

Laois was so happy when he became friends with Shuro and felt so betrayed when Toshiro said he couldn't stand him. Not exactly a heartbreak #3 but it hurt all the same. They got past it but Laois remembers.

And when Kabru, for once in his life, stopped playing poker and laid down his cards, Laois wasn't going to let his heart be hurt for the fourth time.

The biggest thing that stands out to me in this manner is how Kabru's blurted confession of wanting to be friends with Laois was treated as much as a big revelation as a romantic one. Because the weight of that confession is Kabru's character development.

The Character Whose Sincerity Doesn't Come Easy for Him

This guy grew up being infantilized and not taken seriously by the elves for being a short-lived race. So, he honed diplomacy as sharp as his assassin's blade.

He knows the right things to say and when to say them, making him well-liked by everyone (much to his team's chagrin over their loved ones). And yet his personal cause puts a distance between him and his trusted teammates (including his childhood friend).

To say his true feelings and thoughts would end up with long-lived races dismissing him for being unwise and irrational.

So he keeps his cards to himself and works with subtlety throughout the manga, until things got worse, and he couldn't make Laois stay.

And he was left with nothing but to be sincere.

Right from the start, he said he wanted the Touden siblings to be unmasked. But in the end, he unmasked himself, much to his horror.

Addition edit: Kabru has been keeping his cards close to himself for so long, I don't think he realized what he really feels until he blurted it out. He chased after Laois throughout the dungeon because Laois might defeat the mad sorcerer. But for a guy who wants to understand everyone, he never understands what he feels about Laois and what that feeling means until his brain catches up with his mouth.

After decking Laois for not believing him, Kabru elaborated in his confession. He has developed a platonic crush (plush for short) or desire to be friends with Laois because:

1. Kabru wants to understand how Laois could love the very thing Kabru hates. Hate is just another face of fear. We fear what we don't understand. To understand Laois is to understand monsters. I think Kabru finds it admirable that Laois could admire monsters when everyone just view them as a threat.

2. He wants Laois to care about the same thing he does, which is saving humanity. Laois and co. are willing to side with the demon to protect Marcille from the Canaries. By asking to be Laois friend, Kabru becomes Laois' link to humanity that whatever they would do from there with the demon, please don't forget how it might affect other people outside his friends. And by gods, this is important to Kabru's development because he has never asked for help for his cause nor asked anyone to care because he's too used to the self-serving nature of all races. And yet, he chose to believe in Laois. Because if Laois could go that for his sister and elven friend, what more if he could do the same for what Kabru cares the most?

However, it was only in the end that they were able to talk after things had settled down. And they are so different and so alike at the same time.

Source

In this scene, there are two differing thoughts:

Laois, who experienced social rejection growing up: Do you still mean it?

Kabru, who had to deal with those of higher power: Are you testing me?

But they're still thinking the same thing: Is this real?

Like, all of their motivations have the weight often molded into romantic plots in any other story. A character who got their heart broken too many times and another character whose honesty does not come easy for them. But it's not a romantic story, but a start of a beautiful friendship.

There are more examples out there, but this is what came to my mind. Feel free to add more.

[backinmyphase]

Not your husband

Summary: You are going to marry the Satoru Gojo. A dream come true right? Well when he doesn't even show up to the meetings to arrange your marriage, it becomes clear that it's more a nightmare.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3040 words

Next part Masterlist

Sane Geto AU (I am an Angst writer, but not like Gege. Please excuse any errors in my writing)

The world of Jujutsu was never a world for you.

Born into a clan, which only saw your value in your technique. Born into a family, which only saw your mistakes. Born from a mother, who had the same problems but still resented you.

Born into a world full of curses but still being told you were the biggest of all.

"Don't daydream, you will make a bad impression. And you really can't afford that."

The woman in front of you isn't pleased. She isn't since she knew she wouldn't give life to boy.

It's hard as woman in a Jujutsu clan.

It's not about how your technique can help you, it's about how your technique could help your son at exorcising curses.

"Yes, mother."

She frowns as she looks at you. Displeased she fixes her posture a bit, signaling you to do the same. You obey.

"You can't afford to make any mistakes today. Just do as I told you. I can only hope you have learned anything."

As you nod you realize what all this means. The dress kimono you are wearing. The expensive tea that is ready to serve. The hairpin you have gotten from your mother, who did your hair today.

All of it becomes so real.

Your husband has been decided.

"You won't say anything, until you are being asked." The woman hissed. "And please keep a smile on your boring face, then it at least looks not so simple."

You never discovered your technique and what you could do with it. It wasn't easy. Knowing that everything you did would result in you being married of.

And as you sat here in this big room with your mother, you could only wonder.

Who would your husband be? Could it be someone who understood you?

Someone you could love?

As the door opened you saw your father who looked onto the ground as he spoke.

"They are here."

Your mother only nodded, as your father closed the door. Just a few minutes later the door was opened again.

And a beautiful woman stepped inside.

She smiled at your mother as she took a seat in front of her. But the smile was the same as the smile of your mother. And maybe the same of your own.

As she sat down on the opposite side, you served the tea. The best tea your clan could afford.

For a man that didn't seem to have come.

The woman gave an apologetic smile. "My sincere apologies, but my son... Well he is in a bit of a rebellious phase, which lead of him disappearing before this meeting."

Your mother's smile faded a bit. "Does he know of what importance this meeting is for our clans?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, he knows." She slightly eyed you before she spoke again. "He just doesn't care."

Silence flodded the room. It was like a cold hand slidded down your back as you realized.

"I hope the Gojo Clan will show more interest in our connection. We will be very disappointed if not." The smile of your mother was just as cold as the hand that seemed to choke you.

This was Mrs. Gojo. The mother of the strongest.

Gojo Satoru.

The one who seemingly stood above anyone. The one who jumped at every opportunity to mess with the higher ups.

Who will be your husband.

And he didn't even show up to meet you.

"Of course. He will learn." The woman sighed as she spared you a glance again. Then she smiled that smile again.

And you mirrored it.

"Your future husband isn't the easiest person." The woman sighed as she looked at you. "Even as a baby he knew what he wanted and how to get it."

Not knowing how to react you just nodded.

The woman laughed at that. "But no worries! Even though he is... Difficult, you will love him. He has that effect on people."

Your mouth dried up at the mention of love. How could this woman talk about love at the table your arranged marriage would be discussed? How could she talk about love when you didn't even have a saying in this arrangement? How, when you will marry the strongest?

Satoru Gojo?

"I really hope that he will learn." Your mother smiled while taking a sip from her tea. "He should know that his actions are what keep the Gojo Clan still important. He shouldn't throw that away."

The tension grew a lot, as Mrs. Gojo mirrored the smile and took a sip of the tea. "Well at least I brought him to our Clan. In the end that's the biggest thing a woman could achieve right?"

It was sick. We lived in modern times, but the Jujutsu Society was still so far behind, floating under the radar, with the excuse of making the world a better place.

"It's true." Your mother sighed as she lowered her cup. "The strongest really is the biggest achievement you could have ever accomplished. Being the parent of such a child... But I wonder..."

Your mother now didn't even try to hide her distain. "Why does his mother not have him under control?"

Klirrr

"Because." Mrs. Gojo's hand shook as it held the broken cup. The sharp shards cutting into it. "As a boy, he can have this freedom."

The black tea in your cup grew cold as long with the atmosphere in the room. Your mother stood up and left the room without a word. Her steps filled the silence in the room. And as she closed the door the woman in front of you sighed.

"Difficult woman, isn't she?" Mrs. Gojo let go of the cup shards while hissing. Her mask no longer in tact as she didn't smile anymore.

"Well who isn't?"

She looked at you surprised and then chuckled. "I guess you are right."

On the same day the arrangement was consolidated. It was official.

You will marry Satoru Gojo.

~~

"Suguru, how could this happen? To me?" Satoru whined as he complained to his best friend. "It all has to be a bad joke, right?"

"No, it sounds like a normal thing in jujutsu clans. I'm just confused why you didn't have any saying. You know, as the strongest." Suguru didn't look up from his book as his best friend groaned.

"That's what I'm saying! I don't give a damn about this whole clan thing."

As they were sitting in the park near their mission, they of course already finished not even breaking a sweat, the sun slowly set.

"It is a really bad system. How the clans only strive after power and never consider the lives of their toles." Suguru muttered as he turned the page.

"And now I have to marry a random girl I don't even know!" Satoru groaned again and buried his face in his hands.

"And she has to marry you." Suguru sighed.

Satoru looked at him slightly annoyed. "What do you want to say? Just say it."

"Well, I am sure, she is just as horrified as you at the sound of marriage. I'm just saying you could at least try to get to know her."

"I'm not going there." Stubbornly Satoru shook his head. "Never. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."

Suguru looked up at his friend and now he shook his head. "I pity your soon to be wife."

Offended, Satoru turned to his friend. "Hey! I'm your friend in need here!"

Suguru placed his bookmark gently in his book and then closed it. "Just promise you will show up to the wedding."

Satoru grinned. "Why? You scared of the higher-ups for me?"

"Not for you." He stood up as he looked down at his friend.

"For your wife. If an arranged marriage isn't going well, you know who gets blamed. And what you're doing is just cruel to her."

Gojo didn't say anything as he put on his blindfold.

~

"Do I look pretty?"

You didn't dare be louder than a whisper. "Mother?"

Her sigh gave you confirmation that she wasn't pleased. As she looked you up and down, her frown never disappeared. "As long you don't make that face, it's passable."

She stood up. "For a wedding you look... I just hope your husband will like you at your best."

"Soon to be husband." you corrected her quietly as you looked in the mirror.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She raised a brow but nodded slowly. Then she paced through the room impatiently. "That woman still hasn't given us any signs."

"Mrs. Gojo is probably seating the guests." a little part of you wanted to defend this woman. Your future mother in law.

"Or the groom makes problems again." your mother shook her head, like always when she spoke about the young Gojo.

After he didn't show up to a single meeting, she was sure that Mrs. Gojo didn't raise him right and that she as his mother should be blamed.

It was so pathetic. How you already felt his displeasure, his hatred towards you.

"Mother?"

"What is it?" she was annoyed.

"What was your wedding like?"

...

"Just like this one. It's tradition in our clan." her face was stone cold.

And you felt sympathy for her. She also had an arranged marriage. A wedding in which she didn't have any saying. A husband who she never chose.

"It's the bride's moment." The voice of Mrs. Gojo halled through the room.

Your mother smiled at you. You smiled back.

"Just don't mess it up."

~~

There were too many guests. Mostly people you didn't know. And all of them looked at you, while you made your way to the altar.

Under their stares you felt small.

But there was also this man. This guy with white hair, that stood at the end of your path. This boy that refused to even meet you before the wedding.

He gave you a glance and then continued to stubbornly look straight ahead.

As you stood before him, he didn't seem to be here with his thoughts.

And at this moment you knew he didn't want to marry you. No, you knew that before. But you knew that he would never open up or try to make this work.

And you didn't want that.

"I do."

No, you really didn't. And as he spatted the same words you knew that he was lying too.

~~

"Oh, you lucky girl!" The old woman, you didn't even know, said.

The after ceremony was not nice. All the guests wanted to talk to Gojo and some, not many pestered you. What really stung you was that they made more effort to talk to you than your own husband did.

"To marry such a handsome man." she looked at you and smiled knowingly.

"Of course it's an honor to marry Gojo Satoru as he is an important figure for the jujutsu society." Everything you said sounded like a broken record that lost any meaning.

She chuckled. "You can be honest with me. An heir will be on the way shortly, right?"

You hated this talk about an heir. Hated, hated, hated this people that keep telling you to hurry up and sleep with this man that didn't even look at you.

"We will see."

She laughed at that. And somehow you managed to excuse yourself from the conversation.

The rest of the evening was torture, but you somehow survived. Gojo didn't talk to you. He just disappeared at some point, leaving you alone in the cave of the lions.

His mother was right. He was a difficult person.

You hated that you had to ask around to be driven to his estate. Hated, that he didn't open the door, it was the personal chef that was going to leave. Hated, that you stood alone in this cold house.

He seemed to like to leave you alone. To just go.

You didn't want to sleep at this house. You didn't want to, but where should you go? Where could a place be, where you could hide?

Gojo had places. Not you.

You slept on the couch that evening. Your wedding dress was still on, as you didn't know what in this big house was to wear for you.

~~

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Satoru didn't like to hear that from his best friend, as he stood at his doorstep.

"I just need a place to sleep."

"I said to go to the wedding." Suguru felt like babysitting a toddler.

"And I did."

"Then why are you here? And not with your wife at your house?" Suguru slowly began to lose his patience.

"Can you just let me in, you ass?"

After shaking his head, Suguru opened his door wide enough to let Gojo in.

"Why are you here?" he wasn't going to make it easy for Satoru to forget he left you there.

"Had enough."

"You're such a child." Suguru shook his head. That's what ticked Gojo off.

"Stop it!" He threw his shoes on the floor.

"You can't judge me! Not when you don't know how it feels to have your future stripped from you just because you have been born in this family!"

Suguru kept silent this time.

~~

Your things were shiped to this mansion you should now live in. It wasn't a lot but your necessary clothes. Finally.

Finally you could take the dress off.

The clothing that reminded you that this was real. That your reason in life was already fulfilled and now you should just cease to exist.

No, that wasn't true, was it? You still had to bring an heir.

Will you ever get used to this new prison? You doubt it.

It was so big and cold. So many things but it didn't have this personal touch. It felt empty, unloved. Did Gojo even live here?

Well it seems like he wouldn't if you were here.

It was stupid. You didn't know him, just saw him yesterday for the first time in person. And still it was so clear he wouldn't make it easy for you.

You felt unloved.

"A letter, Mrs. Gojo."

The sudden voice blew you away from your thoughts. Another thing you wouldn't get used to. There were servants for the Clan leader. Like this girl. They were only needed in the kitchen, but it still felt wrong.

And something felt so wrong with being called this name.

"From who?"

The girl before you had a pitiful look. "Your mother." She cleared her throat. "She said, it's about your arrangement."

As you looked down at this paper, it felt like cursed energy was coming from it.

"Oh. Alright, thank you." Hesitating you took the letter.

The girl just nodded and made her way to the kitchen. The silence in this house was haunting.

Again you looked at the letter in your hands, and wished it was only paper. What should you do from now on? How would you spend your life?

Well obviously not with your husband as he wasn't even here.

And you would make sure that he didn't see the letters from your clan.

~~

"You're here." Satoru Gojo didn't seem pleased to see his wife in his house at this evening. Rather displeased, the way he frowned like a little child.

'Well.' you thought. 'That's to damn bad. He should have come to the arrangement hours.'

"Yeah. I have to be."

He didn't even look at you. Humiliation after humiliation. What would your child self say? Seeing that your own husband didn't even look or smile at you? The hopeless romantic would be crushed.

And now they definitely are.

"I see." His voice was barely audible. Oh, what a humiliation this must be for him! The strongest! Not even in control of his own marriage.

You really should pity him. Be understanding. Like the good wife your mother wanted you to be.

But you didn't have the strength to do that. No, you didn't sympathize with this man, that stood in front of you. The one who had the privilege of doing what he wanted till now just because he was blessed. Because he was born a boy.

And you were not.

"My things were brought this morning and Hina showed me around. I already-"

"Who is Hina?" Gojo sounded confused.

"The servant girl. The one who helps to cook?" you couldn't believe him. She even told you that she was working here since 3 years!

"Oh, yeah she. Continue."

You didn't like his tone, you didn't like his attitude, you didn't like that you didn't knew anything about him BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SHOW UP TO ANY-

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you." While trying to keep the bitterness down you started to whisper.

"What?"

As you looked up at him, your mind went blank. For the first time Satoru looked at you. With his big blue beautiful eyes, he looked at you. So mesmerizing that you almost forgot about your bitterness towards him.

Almost.

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you in any mean. We can also eat separately. In fact I would prefer that."

He snorted. "That's childish. Not even eating together."

And that broke the straw. The straw your patience was hanging on sooooo desperately.

"You." you poked his chest with force. "Can't tell me what's childish or not."

Your voice grew a bit. "You can't, not after not attending any meetings, actively trying to get away from me on our wedding day, leaving me alone for our clan people, leaving me alone for the night way to a new house I have to call home now!"

He kept silent. Like all the times you saw him.

"SO EXCUSE ME." You made your way to your room, shouting to make sure he knew what you said.

"IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL! AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!"

You slammed the door with force.

You don't think your husband will ever even like you. Or if Gojo would ever even be your husband.

[whosscruffylooking]

Militiae Species Amor Est

Militiae species amor est - "Love is a kind of war."

Part II Is Up Now!

This is a story based on an original character, Iris. She has no description in regards to hair, skin color, eye color, etc. It doesn't follow any particular timeline and the events in this story extend longer than the events of the movie. I saw the movie last night and wrote this today in between appointments, so please don't judge if it's slightly messy haha. Please enjoy!

warnings:// some mentions of blood and weapons. time period typical violence.

word count: 6.7k

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The air in the colosseum was thick with noise—cheers, jeers, and the distant clang of swords meeting shields. You sat stiffly in the patrician’s box beside your fiancé, Caius, his hand possessively resting on the arm of your chair. He was absorbed in the spectacle, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement every time the sand turned red. You barely heard him as he leaned close, muttering about the skill of one gladiator. Your attention, however, was elsewhere.

“Hanno,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the crowd, and the colosseum erupted into a frenzy. “The Eagle of the Arena!”

The title was grand, but it wasn’t the name that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the description whispered about him in every corner of Rome: a fighter with unmatched presence, defiance in his eyes, and a grace that reminded you of someone you thought you’d lost forever.

Lucius.

The boy who had once been your entire world.

Your heart raced as the gates creaked open, and Hanno stepped into the sunlight. The sight of him stole your breath. He was older now, broader, his body honed by years of struggle, but there was no mistaking him. His hair, still curling the way you remembered, caught the light, and his eyes—those stormy blue eyes that had once looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered—swept over the crowd.

Lucius.

He moved like the wind, his steps steady, his posture unshaken. The arena seemed to bend to him, the crowd hanging on his every movement. He raised his sword, saluting the emperor, but you knew him too well to miss the flicker of contempt in his gaze. That small defiance confirmed it.

You didn’t realize you were staring until Caius’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You seem unusually captivated, my dear,” he said, his tone light but edged with suspicion.

You blinked, dragging your gaze away from the arena. “It’s… he’s remarkable,” you managed, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

Caius smirked, his pride swelling as if he were responsible for the spectacle before you. “Hanno is Rome’s finest now. A true warrior.”

Your eyes drifted back to Lucius—Hanno—before you could stop yourself. Memories of your childhood together flooded your mind: running through the gardens of Lucilla’s villa, the way his laughter had filled the air like music, the nights you whispered your dreams to each other under the stars.

He had been everything to you, even though the world told you he couldn’t be. You were a servant, an invisible presence in the household of his mother, Lucilla. But to Lucius, you had been more. He’d promised you, one night under the moon, that he would find a way for you to be together.

That promise had been shattered the day Maximus died. Lucius was sent away, his mother’s grief consuming everything in its path. You were left behind, forced to grow up in silence, betrothed to Caius—a man you didn’t love, who saw you as nothing more than a beautiful possession.

Now, years later, here he was. The boy who had held your hand in secret was now a man commanding the attention of thousands, and yet he was still fighting. Not just for survival, but for something greater. For freedom.

You couldn’t look away.

As the match began, Lucius moved with the precision and grace of someone born to the sword. Every strike, every parry, every step was measured and deliberate. He fought like a man who had nothing to lose and everything to prove.

When the fight ended—his opponent crumpled in the sand, and the crowd screamed his name—Lucius raised his head. For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you saw recognition spark there, sharp and immediate.

He knew you.

Your breath caught, your hands gripping the edge of your chair. He didn’t look away, his chest heaving as he stared up at you. The distance between you felt both vast and nonexistent.

“Are you unwell?” Caius’s voice jolted you back to reality, his brows furrowed in irritation.

You forced a smile, your heart pounding. “No. It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing.

It was him.

Lucius.

And you would find him again. No matter what it took.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The roar of the crowd surged like a wave, crashing against the walls of the colosseum, but Lucius barely heard it. He stood in the center of the arena, the weight of his sword steady in his hand, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the fight. The sand beneath his feet was stained red, the air thick with heat and blood.

Another victory. Another step toward survival.

He turned to acknowledge the emperor with a sharp salute, but his movements were mechanical. His body obeyed out of habit, but his mind was elsewhere, as it always was after a fight. Somewhere far from Rome, far from the sand and the chains. Somewhere warm and quiet, where he wasn’t a gladiator, wasn’t the Eagle of the Arena.

Then he looked up at the crowd, scanning the patrician’s box with a glance he’d perfected—casual enough not to attract suspicion, sharp enough to note every detail.

And he saw her.

At first, he thought his exhaustion was playing tricks on him. He blinked, his grip tightening on his sword as he stared at the woman seated high above. The sun caught her hair, and though she was dressed in the fine silks of a noblewoman, there was no mistaking her.

It was her.

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The world around him blurred—the cheers of the crowd, the stink of the arena, even the pain radiating from his bruised ribs. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the woman in front of him.

She was older now, more poised, her features sharper, but it was still her. The same eyes he used to stare into when they were children, the same curve of her lips that had whispered his name in the dark corners of his mother’s villa. The servant girl who had once been his whole world.

The girl he had loved.

Her eyes widened as they locked on his, a mix of shock and disbelief crossing her face. He wondered if she thought him a ghost, just as he had often imagined her face in dreams, only to wake and find himself alone. But this wasn’t a dream. She was here.

His chest tightened as a thousand memories flooded back. Running barefoot through the gardens together, laughing as they dodged his tutors and stole food from the kitchens. Her small, warm hands brushing his as they sat by the fountain, sharing secrets no one else could know.

And then the promises. He had been so sure, so determined, swearing under a sky full of stars that he would always protect her, always come back for her. But life had taken that choice from him. His father’s death, his mother’s grief—it had torn him from her side and thrown him into a world where love had no place.

Yet here she was, staring at him as though no time had passed at all.

The man beside her shifted in his seat, leaning close to speak to her. Lucius’s jaw clenched as the man’s hand brushed hers, the gesture small but possessive. So, she was engaged. Of course, she was. A woman like her, even a servant, could be bartered into a match that served some Roman noble’s ambitions.

But when she looked at her betrothed, there was no warmth in her eyes. None of the light he remembered.

She turned back to him, and for a moment, it felt as though the years melted away. The noise of the arena faded, the weight of his chains forgotten. It was just her and him, as it had always been.

Lucius felt something stir inside him, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

Hope.

His salute lingered a moment longer than it should have, his gaze unwavering. He saw the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers gripped the edge of her chair as if grounding herself against the storm inside her.

And then the guards called for him to return to the cells. The gate creaked open behind him. He forced himself to turn, to walk away, but every step felt heavier than the last.

She was here. She had found him.

And now, no matter the cost, he would find her again.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The barracks were dark and quiet, save for the faint crackle of the brazier in the corner. Lucius sat on the edge of the wooden bench, his head bowed, his hands idly tracing the grooves of the blade across his lap. Around him, the other gladiators had fallen into a tense silence, their usual jests and muttered complaints subdued after the day’s bloodshed.

He’d been Hanno for so long now, the name sliding easily from the lips of the guards, the crowd, the men who fought and bled beside him. Hanno, the invincible gladiator, the Eagle of the Arena. No one questioned where he had come from, why his skills surpassed so many others. They only saw what they wanted—a spectacle, a story to worship or envy.

But tonight, none of that mattered.

Her face had been burned into his mind since he’d seen her, her wide eyes locking with his in the colosseum. Every move he made since had been automatic, his body fighting and surviving on instinct, while his mind reeled with the impossible truth: she was alive.

He gritted his teeth, clenching the blade harder. For years, he’d allowed himself to believe she was lost to him, married off to some faceless noble, her life swallowed by the world of the Roman elite. He’d tried to bury the ache of it, the guilt that he hadn’t fought harder to keep her, the memories of her laugh, her touch, her whispered promises in the moonlight.

But now she was here, close enough to reach, yet still out of his grasp.

“Oi, Hanno,” a gruff voice broke the silence. One of the older gladiators, Gaius, sat sharpening his sword in the corner, his one good eye glinting in the firelight. “You’ve been starin’ at that blade like it owes you coin. What’s on your mind?”

Lucius glanced up, his expression carefully neutral. “Nothing.”

Gaius snorted, unconvinced. “You’re a terrible liar. You’ve been off since the games today. Can’t say I blame you—crowds like that, they’ll rattle anyone.” He leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his scarred face. “Or maybe it was someone in the crowd?”

Lucius froze, but only for a moment. Long enough for Gaius’s grin to widen.

“Thought so,” Gaius said. “Some patrician woman caught your eye, eh? Happens to the best of us. Those fine silks and soft hands… nothin’ like the sand and blood we’re used to.”

Lucius forced a smirk, playing along. “Maybe. She looked familiar, that’s all.”

“Familiar?” Gaius raised a brow. “A patrician you’d know? From before?” He lowered his voice, his tone suddenly serious. “Careful, lad. That kind of thinking’ll get you killed. We’re gladiators now, not men with pasts.”

Lucius ignored the warning, leaning back and keeping his voice casual. “You’ve been here longer than most. You hear things. You know people. If I wanted to find out about someone—just out of curiosity—how would I go about it?”

Gaius squinted at him, suspicious now. “Depends who you’re asking about.”

“Her,” Lucius said, his tone sharper than he intended. “She was in the patrician’s box today. y/h/c, y/e/c. Engaged to some nobleman.”

Gaius let out a low whistle. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Hanno. Asking about a patrician’s bride-to-be? What, you think you’ll sweep her off her feet, carry her out of here on your shield?” He laughed, but when Lucius didn’t respond, the humor faded from his face.

“You’re serious,” Gaius muttered.

Lucius didn’t answer, his jaw set in a way that made it clear he wasn’t going to let this go.

Gaius sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. But you didn’t hear this from me. There’s a steward who works the colosseum, handles the guests in the noble galleries. Quintus is his name. He’s got loose lips when he’s had a bit to drink. You might learn something from him.”

Lucius nodded, already planning his next move. He would find this Quintus, he would learn what he could, and he would find a way to see her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The barracks were suffocating, the air heavy with the stench of sweat and blood. Lucius sat on the stone bench, his head bowed, hands clasped as though in prayer. But he wasn’t praying. Not to the gods, at least. If they had ever cared for him, they had long since turned their backs.

Her face haunted him—the moment he’d locked eyes with her in the patrician’s box. Everything about that instant had shattered his focus, his purpose. The games, the crowd, the blood—they had all faded in that one heartbeat when he saw her again. Iris.

The name stirred something deep within him—something he had buried long ago. She shouldn’t have been there. In this place, with him, after all this time. But there she was, sitting among the nobles, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and recognition, as though she, too, had never forgotten their past. The girl he had loved. The girl he had lost.

He had to know who she was with now—who held her heart.

He caught Titus, one of the younger gladiators, in the corridor late that night when the air had cooled and the others were lost in their rest. The torchlight cast shadows that made everything feel like a dream.

“I need you to send a message,” Lucius said, his voice quiet but firm.

Titus hesitated, glancing nervously at the hallway. “A message? To who?”

“Quintus. The steward,” Lucius said. “Tell him Hanno requests an audience.”

Titus frowned, confused. “Quintus? Why him?”

“Just do it,” Lucius ordered, his tone hardening. “Tell him the Eagle wants to speak to him.”

Reluctantly, Titus nodded and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lucius alone again with his racing thoughts.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It wasn’t long before Quintus arrived, stepping into the dim light of the corridor with a casual air that belied his sharp eyes. He stopped just outside the bars of Lucius’s cell, arms crossed, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

“To what do I owe the honor, Hanno?” Quintus asked, his voice thick with mockery.

Lucius moved to the bars, his grip tight. “I need information.”

Quintus’s eyebrow arched. “Information? About what?”

“Her,” Lucius said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The woman who was in the patrician’s box today. Iris.” He said her name with a careful hesitation, as though he had spoken it too many times in his head already. “I want to know who she’s engaged to.”

Quintus’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked his surprise. “Caius Livius, if you must know,” he replied, his tone as indifferent as ever. “She’s promised to him. A senator’s son.”

Lucius’s jaw tightened, anger rising like a fire within him. Caius. The name tasted bitter on his tongue. He had no claim on Iris anymore, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“And where do I find her?” Lucius asked, his voice colder than before.

Quintus leaned closer, his expression unreadable. “You think you can just walk into their life and take what’s already promised?”

“I didn’t ask for your judgment,” Lucius shot back, gripping the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I asked for information.“

Quintus held his gaze for a long moment, as though weighing the consequences of giving away more than he should. “Fine ,” he said finally, his voice lowering. “The wedding is planned for the Saturnalia, and he’ll be parading around the city like any nobleman would. But you, Hanno, are nothing but a gladiator. You’re not in their world anymore.”

Lucius’s eyes hardened, his resolve set. He didn’t care. He would find a way.

Quintus sighed, seeing the determination in Lucius’s eyes. “Be careful. Men like Caius do not take kindly to those who try to steal what they believe belongs to them.”

“I don’t care about their world,” Lucius muttered, his grip still tight on the bars. 

Quintus chuckled softly, backing away. “As you wish, Hanno. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with that, he disappeared down the corridor, leaving Lucius standing alone in the darkened cell.

Iris. She was still here, still within his reach. But now he had to find a way to cross the divide between the life she lived and the life he had been forced into. It would take time, cunning, and risks—he knew that.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The days dragged on in the darkened confines of his cell, but Lucius’s mind was sharp, focused on one singular goal. Iris. Her name burned in his chest like a flame, and every passing hour only fueled his determination to find a way to see her again.

The opportunity finally came in the form of a pre-wedding celebration, a lavish event that would be held in honor of Caius Livius and Iris’s upcoming union. Lucius had learned the details from his fleeting conversation with Quintus. The nobles would gather, music would fill the air, and the festivities would overflow with rich food and wine. And what better place to make a grand appearance, to show his worth and cement his place in the arena, than there?

It was a risky move, but Lucius had long learned that risks were the only path to getting what he wanted. And he wanted Iris back in his life—somehow.

He had been pacing in his cell for days, his mind spinning with ways to gain Macrinus’s approval. The man who oversaw the gladiators was a hard man to impress, focused only on profit and spectacle. But Lucius knew something that could sway him—something that could make Macrinus see the value in letting him appear outside the arena.

When the time came, Lucius finally approached Macrinus after training. The large man stood by the door to the gladiator barracks, as usual, his eyes calculating, a permanent frown etched across his face.

“You’ve got something on your mind, Hanno?” Macrinus’s voice was rough, like gravel scraping against stone.

“I want to fight at the pre-wedding celebration,” Lucius said boldly, stepping forward, meeting Macrinus’s gaze without flinching.

Macrinus’s frown deepened, his brow furrowing as he studied Lucius with suspicion. “What do you mean? You’re already booked for the next game.”

Lucius’s voice remained calm, confident. “A demonstration. A show for the nobles. Not just a fight. A spectacle—something more than just the blood and sand they’re used to. I am worth more than that. My name is already known. They’ll talk about this for weeks. It’ll bring attention to the arena.”

Macrinus scoffed. “I’m not here to pander to noble whims. They want to see blood, Hanno, not performances.”

Lucius leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, convincing tone. “What if you gave them both? The fight, the blood, and the spectacle? You know how the rich love their games, their entertainment. They’ll throw more coin at you than you’ve seen in months. You think I’m just a tool for the sand? No. I’m a showman, too. I can be both your champion and your attraction, Macrinus.”

Macrinus studied him for a long moment, a trace of hesitation on his face. Lucius knew he had his attention. It was all about playing to the man’s greed.

“You think they’ll pay for that?” Macrinus asked skeptically.

“I know they will,” Lucius replied confidently. “You know they will.”

There was a long pause, the silence thick with the weight of the decision. Finally, Macrinus spoke, his tone begrudging. “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, Hanno. If you fail to deliver, you’ll never see the light of day again. Understood?”

Lucius gave him a single, sharp nod. “Understood.”

The deal was struck. He would appear at the celebration—not as a mere gladiator, but as an entertainer, a spectacle that would tantalize the nobles and remind them of the fierce warriors they had come to worship. But Lucius’s true goal wasn’t just to perform. It was to find Iris again.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The night of the pre-wedding celebration arrived, and the grand estate was alive with opulence. Torches lined the paths, casting flickering shadows over the marble columns that held up the towering structure. The air was thick with the sound of music, the chatter of guests, the clinking of goblets filled with wine. Lucius stood in the center of the courtyard, wearing a costume not meant for battle but for spectacle—a fighter’s attire mixed with elaborate decorations meant to draw the eye.

The moment he stepped into the midst of the crowd, all eyes were on him. His reputation had already preceded him, and now, in the midst of this rich, noble gathering, the anticipation of the fight—his performance—was palpable.

Lucius’s heart pounded in his chest, but not because of the crowd’s gaze. He was searching for her. Iris.

It didn’t take long before his eyes found her, seated at the edge of the grand table, surrounded by the high-ranking men and women of Rome. She was seated next to Caius, her fiancé, but it was her presence that caught Lucius’s attention, her graceful posture, the way she held herself with a quiet elegance that made his heart ache.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, but Lucius knew this was his chance. He had to speak with her. He had to know if she remembered what they had shared. If she felt the same pull he did.

He played his part well, engaging in a mock duel with one of the other gladiators, performing for the crowd, his movements sharp and exaggerated. He could hear the gasps of excitement, the laughter, and the murmurs of approval. But his gaze never left her.

When the crowd finally began to thin out, when the festivities had moved inside to the banquet hall, Lucius saw his opportunity. He took a deep breath, stepping away from the cheering spectators and weaving through the courtyard, making his way toward the quiet area where Iris had slipped away from the crowd.

His pulse quickened as he neared her, and when he saw her alone for the briefest of moments, he stepped forward, his heart pounding with urgency. But just as his hand reached for the veil of the moment, a shadow fell across his path, and he froze.

“Iris.”

Her name, spoken with the weight of ownership, cut through the air. Lucius’s breath caught in his throat as Caius Livius stepped into view, his posture commanding and his eyes sharp with the kind of possessive authority that had always made Lucius’s skin crawl.

Iris’s face faltered for a split second, the mask she had been wearing slipping just enough to reveal the turmoil beneath. She turned, her eyes wide with shock at Caius’s sudden appearance.

“I was about to—” Iris began, but Caius stepped closer, his presence towering over her, blocking Lucius’s approach.

“You were about to what?” Caius’s voice was calm, but there was a hard edge to it. His gaze flicked briefly to Lucius, a look of recognition passing between them before he returned his attention to Iris, his hand subtly resting possessively on her arm. “You should be with your guests, Iris. This isn’t the time for wandering off.”

Iris stiffened at his touch, but she said nothing, her eyes darting briefly toward Lucius.

“I just… needed a moment,” Iris murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She pulled her arm away from Caius’s grasp, the coldness of the gesture unnoticed by him, though Lucius felt the tension between them all the same.

Caius, however, didn’t miss the unspoken exchange. His eyes narrowed, and his tone sharpened. “I’ll take her back inside. It’s better that way.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he placed a firm hand at the small of her back and guided her away, leaving Lucius standing frozen in the shadows of the courtyard, the words he longed to say locked behind his teeth.

As they disappeared into the throng of nobles, Lucius’s gaze remained on Iris, heart sinking as the distance between them grew. He had come so close—too close—and yet fate had thrown him back into the same endless fight.

This was far from over.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The atmosphere in the grand hall was suffocating. Candles flickered in golden sconces, casting long shadows along the marble floor. The chatter of the guests—nobles and dignitaries alike—filled the air, but Iris barely heard any of it. Her mind was elsewhere, her heart somewhere far from the lavish feast unfolding before her.

Tonight was supposed to be a celebration—a night to honor the union of herself and Caius Livius. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped. She had played her part in the arrangements, had donned the gown of a bride and smiled for the guests, but everything felt like a dream she couldn’t wake from. Caius, standing at her side, had not noticed the distance growing between them. His attention was fixed on the guests, on his own image as a future senator, as a man who had already secured his place in Roman society. But for Iris, it was all just a gilded cage, and she was desperate to escape it.

Her gaze drifted toward the center of the room, where the gladiators—Lucius among them, disguised as Hanno—stood, their presence an odd contrast to the aristocratic crowd. They had been invited for spectacle, for entertainment, to make the celebration more “authentic” in the eyes of the nobles. But Iris only saw the man she had once known—Lucius.

There, in the corner of the hall, he stood with his fellow gladiators, their grim faces betraying nothing of what Iris felt in her chest. The way he moved—like a predator, every inch a warrior, but still, something about him seemed so familiar, so painfully alive.

Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met. It was brief, a moment suspended in time, but it was enough. He hadn’t seen her as a noblewoman. He hadn’t seen her as the fiancée of Caius Livius. He saw her, Iris, the girl who had once run barefoot through the gardens of Lucilla’s estate with him, the girl who had watched him train and fought by his side in secret. And in that instant, she could see the same longing in his eyes—the same recognition that told her he had never forgotten her, either.

Her heart raced, and she felt the familiar tug of old emotions threatening to pull her back to him. The years apart, the choices they had made, all seemed so distant now. But standing there, in the same room, everything she had tried to bury came flooding back.

“Iris?” Caius’s voice interrupted her thoughts, pulling her back to the reality of the celebration. She turned to face her fiancé, whose eyes were sharp with suspicion. “You’re not listening.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, offering him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I was… distracted.” She forced her gaze away from Lucius and back to Caius, though the effort felt like a betrayal. “I need to step outside for a moment,” she added, the words tumbling from her lips before she could think better of it.

“Outside?” Caius raised an eyebrow, his face hardening. “Why?”

“I just… need air,” Iris said, her voice trembling. She couldn’t explain it to him—not in this moment, not in front of the guests. She didn’t even fully understand herself.

Caius’ frown deepened. “We’re in the middle of a celebration, Iris. You can’t just—”

“I must go,” she interrupted, her tone sharper than she intended. She could feel the weight of the room, the pressure of everyone watching, and it made her skin crawl. “I’ll return shortly.” She didn’t wait for his response, turning away and heading toward the door before he could say another word.

She had already rehearsed this moment in her mind a hundred times—slipping away unnoticed, making her way to the stables where the gladiators were kept. She wasn’t supposed to be there, but the pull of Lucius—the pull of him—was stronger than any duty she had.

Tonight, of all nights, he would be transported separately from the others. She had learned of his arrival through whispers, and she knew the gladiators would be kept in the cages, awaiting transport to the barracks after the night’s festivities.

But Iris didn’t want to wait. She needed to see him again, to know if it was truly him.

She had paid off a guard earlier, sliding him a small pouch of gold, instructing him to turn a blind eye to her movements. He had agreed, eyes gleaming with greed. She knew it was risky, but she had no choice.

She made her way to the small courtyard behind the villa, where the cages awaited the gladiators. It was dark here, the shadows stretching long and deep, and Iris felt the safety of being hidden, away from the scrutiny of the celebration. The night was still, save for the sound of distant chatter from the main hall.

Iris crouched low behind one of the larger cages, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew they’d arrive soon, and she had one chance—just one. The cage was meant to carry the gladiators back to their quarters, but Iris had found a way to be there first. She slid inside one of the empty cages, curling into the corner where the shadows would hide her. She had to remain out of sight. If anyone saw her, if anyone knew she was here, it would be over.

The cage door creaked open, and the sound of boots on stone grew louder. She held her breath, knowing who it was. When Lucius—or Hanno—finally stepped inside, his form battered, bloodied, and worn from the fight, he stopped, pausing in the doorway. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling, his posture slightly hunched from exhaustion. But even in this broken state, there was no mistaking him.

He didn’t see her at first, his gaze on the floor, but then his eyes flicked up, and they locked. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Iris…” His voice was low, hoarse, almost disbelieving, as if he had to convince himself that she was real.

She swallowed, heart in her throat, and stepped forward. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, but neither of them moved. Not at first. “It’s me,” she said softly, almost in a whisper, afraid to break the fragile spell between them.

Lucius’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of her. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, but still, there was something holding him back. He paused, just a few feet away, as if trying to process the impossible truth of the moment. His eyes searched hers, as if looking for something—some reassurance that this wasn’t just a dream.

“What are you doing here, Iris?” he asked quietly, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t be here. You—” He glanced toward the entrance, where the guards had started moving around, no doubt expecting him to leave soon. “You should be with your fiancé. This is no place for you.”

Her heart stung at the mention of her betrothed. But she couldn’t turn away now, not when he was standing here in front of her, so close and yet so far. She took a tentative step toward him, her fingers brushing the cold bars of the cage, wanting to feel him, to know that he was still the same.

“I couldn’t stay away,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just needed to see you. To know that you’re still here. That you’re still alive.”

Lucius’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away from her. His eyes were filled with something she couldn’t quite place—sorrow, regret, and something deeper, something that made her heart ache with a longing she knew she couldn’t act on.

“I’m not who I was,” he said, his voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of pain and something more. “I’m not that boy anymore, Iris.”

Iris closed her eyes for a moment, her hand still gripping the bars, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside her. She knew the truth of his words. They both knew that nothing had changed—except everything had. The life she had once known with him was long gone. She was promised to another. Lucius was a gladiator, shackled by the life he had been forced into.

“I don’t need anything from you,” she said, her voice breaking as she opened her eyes to meet his. “I just wanted to see you. To know you’re still fighting. To remind myself that you’re real.” Her hand trembled slightly, reaching out. She could barely make herself do it—touch him, feel the reality of him. She just needed to know he wasn’t a memory.

He stood still, watching her, his own hand coming up as if he reached for her, but he didn’t. There was an unspoken understanding between them now—one that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. They couldn’t change what had happened, couldn’t undo the time that had passed. The distance between them now was unbridgeable.

“You have to keep fighting,” Iris said softly, her voice full of quiet desperation. “You have to win these battles, Lucius. Not just for your freedom—but for yourself.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling in his chest. “I’ll keep fighting,” he said, but his voice was strained. “But what if I don’t win? What if there’s nothing left for me once this is over?”

“You have to try,” she said, shaking her head. She felt her throat tighten, but she held it together, taking a deep breath. “For you. For the chance to have something more than this. I can’t change what’s already been decided. But you…” Her voice faltered for a moment. “You can still change your life. You can change Rome. The emperor’s reign terror over us all. The very thing Maximus fought to destroy has been reborn. This…this could be Rome’s second coming. You could change everything!” 

He stood still, eyes narrowed as she spoke, her voice growing more urgent, more pleading. The hope in her words was thick, almost suffocating. The weight of her expectations settled onto his shoulders, heavier than any armor he had ever worn in the arena. She was asking him to be a symbol, to be something more than just the man who had been torn apart by the brutal hands of fate. To rise up, to fight—not for his life, not for his freedom—but for something else, something bigger than them both.

The bitterness swirled inside him, bitterness he couldn’t quite shake, even though he knew it wasn’t fair. He wanted to pull her close and ask if she had really come here for him—or if she had come because she needed him to be more than the gladiator she saw. Was she still seeing the boy she once knew? Or had the weight of Rome’s problems and the brutality of their world transformed that image into something else?

“You think I’m here to save Rome?” His voice was low, thick with disbelief, and maybe something sharper, something closer to anger. He took a step closer, his breath quickening. “Have you really come to ask me to fix a city that’s rotting from the inside? To fight in the name of some grand idea, as if that would change anything?”

He could see the shock in her eyes, the way she stiffened at his words, but the feeling that burned inside him wouldn’t let him soften his tone. “I was a boy who used to laugh with you. Who dreamed of something better. And now, I’m here, in chains, fighting for my life like some beast in a cage—and you expect me to change the world? To fight for a cause that wasn’t mine? To be your hero? What do you even want from me, Iris?”

The sharpness of his words hung in the air, and he regretted them almost immediately. He knew it wasn’t her fault. He knew the weight of everything she had said came from a place of fear, of wanting him to be the person he used to be—the person she wanted him to be. But something inside him twisted in frustration, the lingering taste of his own disillusionment clouding his thoughts.

“You don’t even know what it’s like in here,” he continued, his voice quieter now, but still edged with that underlying anger. “What it takes to survive. I’m not some gladiator who can just rise up and change the world, Iris. I’m just a man trying to get through the next fight. And if I die in the arena tomorrow, what’s left of me? What good does it do Rome?”

His fists clenched at his sides, but his gaze softened just a little, though he didn’t allow himself to look away from her. “I know what your life is supposed to be. I know you’ve got your future planned out, with your betrothed and your family. You don’t need me. You don’t need this.” He gestured toward the cage, the arena that held him captive. “You don’t need someone like me anymore.”

There was silence between them now, and for a long moment, Lucius simply stared at her, the weight of his words still hanging between them. It wasn’t anger he felt—not entirely—but frustration, confusion, and something deeper that he couldn’t put into words.

"You do not get to ask me to be someone I’m not anymore.”

Iris stood there, her hand still gripping the bars, her body trembling slightly under the weight of his words. She hadn’t come here to convince him to save the empire. She had come to see him, to remind herself of who he was before he became Hanno—the gladiator. But Lucius, had taken it another way.

Maybe it was too much for him to hear. Maybe he didn’t know what to do with her presence here, what she expected from him, what he was still capable of giving. And maybe he was right to be angry, right to wonder what had brought her here tonight.

But Iris, standing in the cold dark of the cage with him, wanted to say that she didn’t care about all the politics, the battles, the blood. She didn’t care about Rome or her betrothed or the life that had been set out for her. She just wanted him. The boy she had known, the one who had made her laugh and dreamed of a future together. The man standing in front of her now, in chains, so far from the man he had once been.

But she didn’t know how to tell him that. Instead, she stepped back, slowly, her heart breaking with each movement. She had come here to see him, to remind herself of who he was—but now, as he stood there, unable to see past the fight that consumed him, it felt like all of that was slipping away again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She turned away, the weight of his words still echoing in her ears. “I didn’t mean to ask you to be someone you’re not.”

And with that, she walked away, the door of the cage closing behind her with a final, resounding thud. Lucius watched her go, his chest heavy with regret, but no words came. The cage was cold. The night outside was full of laughter and light, and yet, it felt impossibly far away.

[luvologyy]

Daisuke relationship headcanonsᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

NSFW/SFW SO MDNII TY!

Daisuke x f!reader ᵔᴗᵔ.ᐟ

It can take place on earth or on the tulpar.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated 💗

· · ──꒰ঌ·🌺·໒꒱ ── · ·

SFW HEADCANONS

★ He never stops trying to impress you. he even fails and embarrasses himself. yet it’s okay. You think it’s cute

★ he always craves you, not even just sexually but physically, too. Just your smell, your vibe, your company. Just you.

★ hates seeing you sad, angry, etc. He thinks he mightve done something to make you feel that way. So he does everything in his power to get you out of it.

"Hey baby, I got you a drink from the kitchen!"

"Thank you, I'm not thirsty, though.." He heard the tone on your voice and knew something was wrong, it was blunt but still soft and welcoming.

"Are you okay??" Daisuke asked

You just shrug your shoulders not saying anything.

Daisuke sitting beside you and wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzling against your hair. "It's okay, Mama, I gotchu."

★ such a cuddle bug, like my baby loves being touched and touching you.

★ this boy is soo clingy. He's always following you, holding on to your hand or sleeve.

★ loves hugs, every time you're at the counter or a table, he always walks behind you and hugs you from behind. HE WONT LET GO AFTER THAT.

★ he accidently called you mama/mommy when you guys were cuddling. HE WAS EMBARRASSED.

"Make sure you get your daily tasks done later, though, okay?"

"Okay, Mama.." He grumbled tiredly, his face nuzzling into your neck.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you." You chuckled, pulling his face away

"NO NOO IM SORRY I CALLED YOU THAT I-" he was a rambling mess, embarrassed you caught him calling you mama.

"No, no! It's okay, sweet boy. I don't mind it, you can call me it whenever."

★ You guys are the sun x moon dynamic fr

★ you'd always let him babble away about his day or whatever he'd talk about, and he noticed how you'd genuinely listen and was interested on what he'd talk about. It made him giddy and happy.

★ always convinces you to do dumb shit with him, and if you’re already naturally a reckless person you’d just add to his fire. But if you're more mature than him, you'd try to talk him out of his reckless behaviors.

★ says “again” or “one more, mama” after kissing you (you always giggle and grant his wish ofc)

★ He'll get competitive with you just for fun. He'll make up races and let you win because he loves seeing you smile

★ whenever yall cuddle HE SNORESS. But doesn't snore super loudly like Swansea

★ He likes it when you brush his hair and style it. BUT HE ALSO HATES IT. He'd complain how you're too rough and how tangled his hair is.

★ Always gives you cheek kisses everytime you guys hug or cuddle.

★ He's REALLY STINGY WITH HIS FOOD, but he'll always share with you.

★ this boy thinks you're an absolute goddess. Every time you wear new outfits and show him, his eyes turn into literal hearts.

★ he gets so giddy when you pepper small kisses all over his face, especially if you wear lipstick and kiss him.

NSFW HEADCANONS!

★ He's such a chatter box when he's in bed, especially when he's about to release or when being edged.

★ He's into praise and a little degration. But nothing too crazy like "bitch". Just being called a slutty boy gets his gears grinding..

★ dudes got a mommy kink. No questions asked.

★ pleaseee sit on his face. He loves it. He'll let you sit on his face for hours.

★ HES A MUNCH. He'll tie his hair up every time he eats it. He genuinely thinks you taste so good. He'll even accidently overstimulate you without realizing it.

★ He's such a whiney boy when he's being edged or overstimulated. Whimpering and crying begging to cum.

"F-ffuckk, mommy, I don't think I can take it .."

"Can i please cum, pleasee mommy I've been a good boy!"

"Your hands feel so soo good mommy.."

★ Daisuke loves cowgirl and missionary, but mostly cowgirl. being able to look you in the eye as you take control. His hands gently holding your hips as you bounce on his cock. Mesmerized by your tits in his face and the sounds leaving your lips.

★ absolutely adores your body. He loves how soft and squishy it is, especially your thighs and tits.

★ He loves doing the finger + tongue combo..

"You taste so good mommy.. so good."

"I can feel you getting closer mommy."

"Please cum for me mommy, please cum for your good slutty boy!"

★ he literslly begs you to cum, his pleasure is your pleasure. So eager to please you.

★ Daisuke is so Eagar and messy. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. Lapping at your folds and slurping on your slick. Daisuke will stay there until you force him to breathe, showing off his face with your slick dripping down his chin.

★ He doesn't get to fuck you a lot in missionary or just straight up at all, mostly eatting you out or you jerking him off. So when you allowed him to fuck you in missionary he was so giddy and excited.

★ daisuke was a total virgin. Yeah, he might've gotten a hand job in high school, but he had no actual experience. Until he met youuu.

"Fffuckkk, mommy, you're so tight! Mmmhh..."

"Your pussy feels soo gooddd.."

"T-thank you for letting.. me cum mami.."

★ doesn’t really like quickies. He'd rather take his time with you. Having it being nice, romantic, and slow. His way to goo

★ This baby loves to take care of you and being able to spoil you, but he’s gonna be a bit clumsy. Stuttering and second-guessing himself. Also, please remember Daisuke NEEDS aftercare himself. Sex is new to him, especially if he's a virgin. he’s gonna need some reassurance afterward.

★ He's so eager to do anything you say, if you want him to lay down, he'll do it. If you want him to be on his knees for you. HE'LL DO ITT

★ God when you sit on his face and you start to slowly grind on him, his hands having a firm grip on your thighs. you can practically hear him moaning in your pussy, “mmm so good" or "more mommy I want more.." UGH

Sorry guys, this is so rushed, and it SUCKKS.

[cloudedgalaxies]

ANYWAYS Idiyuu is Hades and Persephone conspiracy:

Persephone is not from the Underworld. She is called back to the Mortal Realm eventually because she has to return. Yuu is literally from another world. They are not suited to Twisted Wonderland, and are nothing like Idia has ever seen. They have to go back eventually.

Hades is probably one of the few TWST boys to have a “canon” spouse (at least in Greek mythology, which Hercules’ Hades is obviously based on). On top of that, Hades and Persephone is the love story between death and life, isolation and abundance, ending and rebirth. Idia is a gloomy, pessimistic boy who has been condemned to be the keeper of the Underworld. Yuu is a kind, gentle prefect who has been there to help and has helped everyone they know, again and again. 

Night Raven College has been in a ‘winter’ for all of its history. Everyone is hostile to everyone, no one wants to cooperate or work together, and every single person there has some ulterior motive. In comes Yuu, who is a breath of fresh air. A new perspective. A new season. They bring ‘spring,’ showing people that they can bloom. They can harbor feelings that aren’t cruel. They can do things that aren’t harsh. And slowly, they start to thaw. Flowers of friendship and something gentler bloom. Yuu is there to help pull the boys from their darkest moments to see the light again. Idia is no exception.

I think that the way Book 6 was set up makes Idia and Yuu seem a lot more meaningful honestly, though I'm probably reading way too into things lol. Yuu originally goes to the Island of Woe to save Grim. They don’t particularly care much about what’s going on with Idia—they just want to get Grim back. But then later, once they realize what’s going on, they do. There isn’t much, if any, personal connection to Idia’s overblot like there was with all the others. Yuu doesn’t have to do anything to help. And yet, they still do. Even after Idia basically kidnapped Grim, they still help him. They still try to end his winter.

Persephone, in many forms of the myth, didn't originally go to the Underworld willingly. But eventually, she came to love Hades, and they were happy together. Idia and Yuu have no reason to care about the other at first. But they eventually do, after everything that happens and everything that brings them together.

Hades and Persephone are in a constant push and pull. Persephone has to leave because if she stays, winter will never end. She does not want to leave, because she loves Hades. Yuu has to leave Twisted Wonderland, because they have a home beyond it that they need to return to. And yet, they don't want to leave because they love Idia. Idia doesn't want them to go, because it finally feels like spring again. But the seasons have to continue in their cycle, so what can they do?

Also, I think it’s really funny and really beautiful how Idia and Yuu’s first meeting was probably the Ghost Marriage event. This guy who thinks he has 0 rizz ends up having to be saved by some strange new isekai'd student and their gang of potential suitors before he gets his first kiss and promptly dies afterwards. Idia, the boy surrounded by death, is saved by the prefect who seems to be giving everyone a new chance at life. Imagine how poetic it’d be if Yuu and Idia end up getting married in the end, except now neither of them are going to die and they have the rest of their new lives together. There will be winter, but there will also be spring. The cycle of seasons will continue, but flowers will always bloom. They will always return to each other.

[skyahri]

Children |Naruto Men X fem!Reader| HC

Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake, and Madara Uchiha.

Summary: How many kids they have and how they are with them.

Warnings: Fem reader. Mentions of pregnancy. Mentions of kids.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Naruto Uzumaki

You already knew Naruto had been dreaming of a family for a long time, so when you got your first positive test, you knew it'd go over well.

He was ecstatic to say the least.

He'd coddle you all throughout the pregnancy and as you healed.

Fatherhood was a dream come true. Nothing could make him happier than his little girl.

Except for the second kid.

And the third.

And fourth.

And at that point, you only stopped reproducing because a fifth kid had quickly become your worst nightmare.

All of his offspring, three girls and a boy, had gotten his energy. You chased everyone around the house every single day, and it was exhausting.

Of course, he helped out when he wasn't busy being hokage, but still.

Four was enough... for you.

Sasuke Uchiha

He'd never really put much thought into how many kids he wanted.

Yeah, he wanted to restore his clan, but he kinda forgot that meant HE had to restore his clan.

Your first child, a daughter, was nearing two years old when you'd gotten pregnant once more.

This sparked a conversation about exactly how big of a family he wanted.

Your first child was an angel, really. Calm, quiet, smart, brave, and so much more. If like would be like this, he'd have a hundred.

But damn that second kid was a 180°. If it weren't for the dark hair and eyes, he would swear he was Naruto's son, not his. So much energy.

After that, he'd decided two was more than enough.

He's content with his tight-knit family. (More so content with the idea of less chaos).

Shikamaru Nara

Definition of one and done.

The pregnancy was planned, and he loves his son, but he was perfectly content with how things were.

He checked in with you every now and then to make sure you were content with only one kid, but you assured him every time that he was more than enough.

Besides, only one kid meant that you could give all of your time and energy to him and his needs without worry.

Kakashi Hatake

One and done as well.

Initially, he never wanted kids, but you were already pregnant despite careful measures, so there wasn't much to be done.

A few months later, a little silver haired girl is born.

The second he saw her it was love at first sight.

He loves his daughter. She's literally his whole entire world, and he spoils her absolutely rotten.

He's super protective. Not really a surprise, but it's definitely worth a mention.

Madara Uchiha

It was normal for people on his clan to have a lot of kids. It was the only way to guarantee a future generation due to the war.

When the time came for him and his wife to start thinking about children, he suddenly realized he didn't have to have a billion children.

The war was over and there was peace, so surely there was no need?

It was a mutual decision to have just one child, so that's what you planned on.

Until you suddenly had twins; two boys.

There goes that idea.

Maybe it was his bodies way of telling him he needed more. Uchiha breeding and what-not.

A while later, you had the urge for another baby, and after a long discussion, he agreed it's what he wanted as well.

But again, you had twins, and again, it was two boys.

He called it quits after that. Fuck whatever hyper fertility nonsense you had going on.

He cares deeply for his sons, but he doesn't want to live in a world where he could potentially have yet another pair of babies to look after.

[wonryllis]

ENHYPEN REVEALING THEIR NON!IDOL S/O.

────────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽.

CONTAINS. idol!enhypen showing you GENRE. fluff, fem!reader, requested WORDCOUNT. 727 LIB?

𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 everyone knows okay everyone just does. it's in his eyes, it's in the way he speaks, it's in his body language, it's in the way he dresses, it's in the little advice and messages he leaves on weverse, it's in the pictures he posts. just everything exudes that he's a taken man desperately in love. his reveal is normal, an official announcement from the company the day after their contractual dating ban is over. appearing on a talk show after all excited to tell everyone about you to be hit by the realization that people actually did have idea just not that you are non celeb.

𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he does not give a fuck about anyone but you. would reveal it so nonchalantly like he's on a live and fans accidentally spot you moving around in the background and he's like,"oh yeah that's my girl, would y'all like to say hi?" he'd call you over and have you sit on his lap the entire time, though not showing your face he doesn't want your privacy getting taken away. you both would laugh and interact with the comments and answer fan questions like you've been public for years. talking about first impressions, who's more clingy, why you chose him yk.

𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 he's scared, not for himself but for you. baby doesn't want his baby getting those hates and threats. he takes a little safer side, writing a personal note addressing the love of his life and asking to be respected and given privacy. monitors the response and as soon as everyone seems accepting he's showing you off everywhere he can, from talking about you on lives and interviews and shows to posting little tmis on social media. fans even grow to tease him with your name challenging him to things he wouldn't otherwise do. cutesy and hot alike.

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 he has no intentions of revealing it like until he has a baby with you or something. but poor guy is so bad at concealing his feelings like he's on a show to give advice on fans queries and there's this specific question about how do you know you love someone and hoon is just K.O. ed rambles on about how there's this internal feeling and you just know it when you look at them, they're the best in the entire world and everything. then later on panics when articles surface about it, "oh my god baby they know! they know!" and he ends up confirming the rumours.

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 this guy can't wait to let the world know about you, his special person, his home. takes every chance he gets to reveal y'all but the manager jumps in every single time telling him it's not the 'right time' yet. he's so annoyed now, he's taking it the dispatch way. sneakily going places without cover, not necessarily to you and then when the articles are out jumping at the first opportunity to introduce his lovely partner through a message to his fans. talking about how long he's been waiting to let them know this important person and how much he loves you.

𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 my boy is soft launching it. he's posting these random ass pictures of succulents and cardigans and hairpins and lipgloss and everyone is so confused until he starts with pictures of hands that are too pretty to be his, skirts with thighs that couldn't be him and lastly a picture of him twirling around someone with the caption,"everyone meet my baby! :))" and after that he's making everyone sick with lovey dovey pictures of you everyday everywhere, twitter, instagram, weverse you name it, everywhere! fans be getting every little update of your love life.

𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 leaves little hints and tricks here and there to get the fans crazy with suspicions but at the same time not enough to expose y'all. plays at it for about a year before he gets impatient and unsatisfied with just little bits and pieces wants to upload full on vlogs about his days with you. wanting to post things like 'dance challenge with my beloved' literally has it on the tip of his mouth "i love my girlfriend," begs the company to let him reveal it and they're like we never stopped you?? so he does talking about it with fans- my girlfriend does that too! my girlfriend would love that!

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

[opbackgrounds]

This scene with Sanji is one of his most important moments in the series, and in my opinion also one of the most difficult passages in the manga to interpret, because to completely understand it you have to look at the manga holistically rather than this scene by itself.

The big question that needs answered is why does Oda let Zoro "win" here by having him be the sacrifice instead of Sanji. Both are equally willing and both are identified much later on as the Wings of the Pirate King, implying that they have similar importance (although vastly different roles) within the Straw Hat crew.

If we go back to Sanji's introduction on the Baratie, his big flaw was that he lacked the "spear of spirit" to pursue his dream. Since he's been a boy he's wanted to find the All Blue, but even when he had the opportunity to go after that dream he chose to stay on the Baratie out of a feeling of obligation to Zeff. Sanji put the continued existence of the restaurant over his own life, something Luffy rightfully called him out for at the time, and even at the end of the arc had to be pushed away by Zeff and the other chefs before he finally set sail for good.

On Drum, Sanji once again almost died protecting Nami and Luffy during the avalanche, resulting in a broken back that required surgury from Dr. Kureha. Luffy again calls him out (note the English translation here isn't entirely accurate, see here for a breakdown), and with his power there's a good chance Luffy could have gotten them all out of trouble without all the dramatics by Sanji.

Something similar happens on Skypiea, when Sanji puts himself in the way of Enel so that Usopp and Nami can be saved. This case is perhaps more justifiable given the extreme situation they were in, but nonetheless he was still quick to throw his life away.

Then on Enies Lobby Nami--while not criticizing his chivalry--calls out Sanji for simply not running away from Kalifa, instead just accepting that he's going to get the shit beat out of him, and possibly die.

So there's a pattern of self-destructive behavior. Sanji repeatedly puts his life on the line when he doesn't need to in order to preserve the lives and dreams of the people he loves. Even him constantly simping over Nami and Robin falls a little into this category, because if either of them told him to take a long walk off a short pier I have no doubt he'd comply. It's that same extreme willingness to sacrifice anything and everything for the people he cares for that we see in Baby 5, except Sanji was fortunate enough to not be surrounded by people that encourage these worst impulses of self-destructive behavior. As he says here in Thriller Bark, he's just the cook. Luffy can always just find someone else.

(The glory of Whole Cake Island being Sanji realizing, no, Luffy can't, and he won't).

And it is finally on WCI that get to the heart of why Sanji is like this with yet another episode of putting his own dreams and happiness aside for the sake of others, and not until Wano that we finally see him take the first steps toward asking others for help instead of passionately throwing his life away when he doesn’t need to.

When Zoro first offered his head to Kuma, the prominence of his dream was first and foremost. Notice that Sanji never mentions the All Blue. One Piece is a series that places the pursuit of one's own ambition above all else, even if that ambition is selfish. Sanji hasn't yet learned to be selfish, so Zoro knocks him out and ends up being the one to accept Luffy's pain. Sacrifice isn't sacrifice if the person doesn't value what they're giving up, and right now Sanji clearly doesn't value his own life compared to the rest of the crew.

Next chapter Oda will speak through Brook to confirm that Sanji's willingness to give himself up wasn't foolish or stupid. It's just that he's missing a piece of the puzzle, and that's not something he'll have for a long time yet.

[lightwise]

Omega is not okay

I know we've all been over the moon about Crosshair and Hunter's dynamic in The Return, but I want to draw some attention to Omega in this episode, and something that I think Joel Aron is trying to draw attention to with his lighting choices.

Omega is not okay.

Joel has made pointed out many times that he loves doing reveal lighting (think the overhead light in Crosshair's cell or on the freighter at the end of A Different Approach giving him a halo, or how Hunter stops short of the overhead light on the Marauder before stepping out to greet Omega). And throughout this whole episode, the light is breaking over Crosshair and bathing him in warmth more and more. He is slowly returning the light and coming home to his family.

Omega, however, in nearly every single scene in this episode, is in shadow.

Yes, her hairstyle is contributing to the fall of light on her face, and yes, she has her hat on while they're on Barton IV. But this is showing that her psychological state since they escaped Tantiss is uneasy, at best, and very conflicted and darkened, at worst. Even when she wakes up in the comfort and safety of the Marauder, she is shrouded in shadow. And even in scenes where the light wraps around and highlights Crosshair's face, Omega's is kept harshly defined, and she is often looking away from the "camera".

Even when we see her somewhat happier at points in this episode, usually due to watching her brothers reconnect, her face is not as well lit as theirs.

Omega kept her positivity and optimism at the forefront while she and Crosshair were in prison, and throughout most of their escape. It's what we most associate with her--being a ray of sunshine and encouragement for those around her. Now, however, she has the opportunity to relax a bit, for the adults to be handling certain things, and the trauma and perspective shift that she has just gone through is coming to the forefront.

Her survivors guilt, her shock at not being the only female clone, her confusion and questions over who she is and why she is so important, the cruelty she's seen Hemlock be capable of, and her continued empathy for anyone who is suffering is all swirling around in her in ways that she doesn't know what to do with yet. Yes, she has seen much suffering in the galaxy already in her short life, and has always been adamant about her need to help others. But ultimately it had never impacted her like this. Until now.

Crosshair has been broken and remade by his experiences. Omega is being broken and remade by hers as well. And I'm not sure the boys fully realize just how much yet.

Omega refuses to be left behind. She feels responsible for the fact that the rest of the clones are still on Tantiss. She feels guilty that she could have a chance at a life still and they don't. She feels an all-encompassing need to help them if she can, even though she is still young and vulnerable. This is ultimately going to conflict with Hunter's desires to keep her safe and hidden. Echo has already chosen the fight. Wrecker is willing to go wherever he's needed. Crosshair has been through too much to not be willing to fight back however necessary.

Hunter is going to eventually realize that while Omega is still a child, and does need to be protected, at the same time, her own sense of responsibility is going to eventually supersede his desires.

Echo and Crosshair especially will be able to understand some of what she is feeling and hopefully help guide her through it. Hopefully, Omega will be able to reconcile who she is, what she is capable of, and what is outside of her ability to fix, sooner rather than later. But it's safe to say she will never be the same after this. At least she has a little bit of reprieve before facing whatever is next.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 1]

The first time Tim sees him, he is seven, standing by his Father's side, and bored out of his mind.

The 'party' is numbingly dull, full of adults, sparkling flutes of champagne, tiny sandwiches, and fake twinkling laughter. Tim doesn't understand how his parents find any of it interesting; in his opinion, nothing about just talking to people for hours and hours straight sounds as exciting as they make it look.

He wishes he could just go home already. Not that his time in the Drake estate gets any more exciting than bothering house elves or spending his day in the library, but it's still better than this.

Or, Tim thought so until he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering on the floor.

He turns around, and there are yelps and screams of surprise and angry swearing. It takes Tim a few seconds to realize what's going on - a few people are holding their hands to their faces, like trying to hide them, and he gets a glimpse of an elephant trunk peeking through the palms of one old lady.

And then, there's a sound of loud, delighted laughter ringing through the room, and the sound of footsteps, and-

"DANIEL!" Tim hears Mr. Masters, the host of the event, yell at the top of his lungs.

A moment later, Tim sees a boy zooming past him, elbowing the adults on his way to push through the crowd and still cackling like a madman. Tim doesn't get a good look at him, what with the boy running so fast he almost trips, but he does notice the messy black hair and the large, knitted blue sweater that looks too big on the boy's body.

"Daniel Jackson Fenton, come back this instant!" Mr. Masters calls again, his thunderous steps louder than all the yelling around them.

The boy doesn't even deign him with a look over his shoulder. Instead, he darts towards the nearest window, opens it with what seems to be practiced ease, and climbs on the windowsill. Only then does he look back to the chaos he created in the room full of respectable guests, and grins.

Tim blinks. He's never seen anyone smile like this, all teeth and mischief, and cheeky excitement.

"What, too old to catch me, Vlad?" He sticks his tongue at Mr. Masters, and just for a moment, Tim is scared the man is going to lunge at him. Yet, right as Mr. Masters gets close enough, the boy pushes off and jumps out the window, his laughter echoing through the night.

Mr. Masters looks like he is about to follow - and Tim is, for once, curious to see if he would - but stops himself short, only leaning out the window.

"Don't bother coming back, you little badger, you are grounded!" The man yells. The only response he gets is another fit of distant cackling from the gardens.

"That is sure a way to entertain the crowd," Father says quietly, and the tall, dark-skinned woman he's been talking to before the whole mess happened snorts a short laugh.

Tim looks back to the few people who are still sporting elephant trunks for their noses.

It's the first time he thinks a party full of adults in stuffy robes can be more fun than he expected.

—☆—☆—☆—

Some visuals for v i b e s

The room where the scene took place:

Tim's drawing after he was back home from the party (house elves helped):

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

I have the vaguest possible idea of where I'm going, but this is definitely going to be a multichapter thing.

A few notes I've got pinned down so far:

Drakes are a mostly pureblood family, not filthy rich and straight up focused on the whole purity thing, but keeping their reputation clean and nice, and their income stable. Both Jack and Janet have attended Hogwarts, and they were both Ravenclaws while they were at it. Janet might have some relation to Blacks, but it's so distant that she doesn't bother keeping it in mind.

Vladimir Masters is, technically, a pureblood wizard, but his family has been in England for only two or so generations. His grandma (who is still very much alive) came from Russia after falling madly in love with Vlad's grandpa (who is now deceased and, as the rumor goes, his wife had a hand in it). He also attended Hogwarts and has been a Ravenclaw in the same year as Madeline Fenton nee Walker. Hence, Daniel Fenton is his godson and, unofficially, as of right now, heir to Masters family.

[part 2 ->]

[backinmyphase]

Not your wife

Synopsis: The walls of the Gojo estate were big as always. The atmosphere cold like before, more than ever since the sudden end of Gojo Satoru's and your honeymoon. And the meeting with the higher-ups was coming near...

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 6200 words Masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu clans and higher ups, much Angst (I'm saying, MUCH angst!) Angst to comfort at the end, after this part will come more, but this will be the end of their introduction to each other

A/n: Alright it took awhile, but I still hope you will like it and it will be worth the wait for you! Like always I'm happy about any comments, they make seriously my day <3

Gojo Satoru was always the strongest and most powerful man in jujutsu society, you knew that.

You heard stories when you were a kid. Your father remembering the meetings with the Gojo Clan more than your birthday. And he was always fascinated by this boy with these absurdly godlike talent.

And then there was his daughter. You didn't have any talent. No, you didn't have the power to make any adult cower before you.

And you were a girl.

It was only natural your father forgot you or at least tried to. Then how could he look at his child and see that he was not the one his Clan prioritized, because he didn't have a worthy heir.

You were an only child, much to your parents dismay. Your father was… Well he couldn't have more kids. You could still see the doctors, and the screams of your father. The crying of your mother. You were six, when you realized you were doomed.

Doomed as the girl who ruined her father's life and name.

It could have been worse. Your parents didn't treat you too bad. They mostly left you in the hands of the maids and Servants. You ate alone since your eighth birthday. Your father couldn't stand eating and looking at you and your mother didn't want to be alone with you.

But it wasn't the worst. They didn't hit you or anything like that. They were frustrated, of course and they still are, but they knew you could still be useful to the Clan. And you knew that one day you would have to marry some man, hopefully a clan leader, to make up for the fact you weren't a boy.

Your mother did teach you personally. And even if she just did so you could get a husband, it still showed she cared.

You didn't live like the golden boy Gojo Satoru.

No, you knew he was special since your father told your mother and you that 'this one boy could be the rising of the jujutsu society to a new level!'.

Your Status was so different from his, you could laugh.

There was one time you saw him, before you two married. And of course that wasn't in the arrangement time, he didn't show up to meet you personally, but it was at a Clan meeting a couple of years ago.

How old were you? Fourteen? Maybe even fifteen. And your parents were arguing about if you should even come with. Your father was livid. 'How could I show myself, when she is there to remind everyone?' he yelled.

But your mother insisted that you should show yourself to start leaving an impression. 'She has to find a husband.' your mother was ice cold. 'And she has to start young. Don't you want a connection to the Gojo Clan?'

'As if Gojo.' He looked at you and that was the first time you had heard him laugh. 'As if she and Gojo…'

The difference between you and Gojo was always clear to you. And you knew that everyone else knew too. But your mother pushed through and took you with her. The ride was silent and you could stil see the empty eyes of your father.

His ego was so easily bruised.

As you made your way into the big estate of the Clan, you could feel the stares of the maides and the servants. Even they knew what you were. Who you were. And why your parents scowled as they came with you.

'So lovely to meet you.' Mrs. Gojo had that same smile you would see on her years later. And when you thought about it, she and your mother had tension between them even back then.

'And who is that beautiful lady?' she smiled at you, her hair was perfect, her dress made perfectly for her. She was a lady in power. But everything was only held together by the pretty golden ring on her ringfinger. Pretty but heavy, you knew that even back then.

'Our oldest daughter.' you father held up this nothing saying face but you could see his frustration.

'And your only one.' Mr. Gojo spoke up behind his wife and had the same but more smugly smile as he looked at your father. And you didn't miss the clenching of your father's teeth.

'Where is the young Gojo boy?' of course even back then your mother searched the control in the situation. And she always did a good job in directing the tension into a different direction.

'Oh, he is out playing.' Mrs. Gojo waved her hand. 'Some of his friends came by.'

He was out playing. His friends visited.

That was the moment you first really realized just how much different you lived. You had to beg to go outside, to attend meetings. He could just leave when his friends asked for him. Hell, he was allowed to play with friends! It was almost surreal how such an important figure had such a normal relaxing life.

'You can join them of course?' Mrs. Gojo smiled at you. Not much later you were send outside into the little yard of the estate.

Gojo laughed with some kids. They were running around, made dumb jokes you didn't understand and furthermore didn't talk to you. You were the weird stuck up girl to these boys and boys shouldn't talk to girls. That was stuck in their dumb teenage brains.

But in Gojo's eyes was something that ticked you off. This look of knowing. Maybe it was your paranoia but even back then you were sure of it, that he understood your different status and what it meant.

So you couldn't say you were that surprised.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"How was your Honeymoon, my Lady?"

You tried to smile as you looked at Hina. She was smiling softly and only now you realized just how much you missed her. The cold walls of the big house were not missed.

"Lovely." you held your things close to yourself, most of your baggage already brought into your room. The uber behind you drove away, now that you were back home. If you could really call it that.

"You look exhausted?" she didn't miss the eye bags under your eyes. But they weren't hard to miss, after all every night was a fight.

"Just missed my own bed." you moved, Hina taking some things from you. Your steps steady, determined.

"Is that why you came back so abruptly?"

You couldn't help but stop in your tracks. And you wished that was the reason. But it wasn't. It was also not the reason your husband wasn't in the uber with you. It wasn't the reason why you longed for your own room.

"Yeah. Just was a bit exhausted." you smiled at the lovely girl in front of you. "Will you excuse me?"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"My lady?" Hina's voice was soft, like it was scared to speak to loudly. "Dinner is ready and Mr. Gojo is waiting for you."

Your room was dark, the curtains closed and your back to the door. Since hours you were laying in your bed trying to sleep, to relax like those nights when you slept well. But it didn't work, nothing worked.

"I will be there in a minute."

You heard her steps distancing from your room. And with a heavy feeling you stood up. Your gaze dropping to your night table. The hairpin of your mother laying there, neatly. So put together.

Next to it the letter of the higher-ups. It reminded you of the following Friday. The meeting that was waiting for you.

And the husband that was waiting for your presence.

It wasn't easy to get up, to take all these steps towards the room with the person you really didn't want to see. In fact you didn't want to see anyone.

The table was big as always, filled with food you knew wouldn't all be eaten. Your seat open and waiting for you. And across from it, he sat. Satoru.

His head was down, cutting his meat as he chewed. He didn't look up as you sat down, no he gripped his fork harder as he ate. The nerve of him.

"Did you get home safely?"

"Yeah, I did." you took a bit of the food around you, even though you were nowhere hungry. "I wouldn't be here if not, would I?"

He stopped chewing for a second, his eyes almost going up. But he didn't and swallowed. "I guess."

The silence that flooded the room was filled with tension you felt familiar with. It was like when you were eight again, the dinners after it was revealed you would be the only child of your parents.

He was mad.

He cut his food like he hated it. And his blue eyes were like storms, fighting and brewing. In the end you still didn't know this man.

"Will you go to meet them?"

He had no right to look at you like that. No right, to make you feel guilty, to make you feel like the villain here.

"Will you disappear for a mission again?"

He was silent. And he should be. It was humiliating, how he left you to ride alone home again. Just mumbling of having to work instead of talking to you.

The sound of chewing and eating was the only thing that filled the room and it wasn't too long until you were finished. He stared at you, watching your doing. Now you couldn't bear yourself to look at him.

"You could have come to me. You could just tal-"

"I want to eat alone from now on again." you cut him off. You didn't want to hear his oh so great ideas, as if he knew your position.

He was quiet again. You took that as a sign to continue. "And I want to promote Hina, if that's okay. I still need a personal maid, to help me prepare for our later Clan events."

You stood up, the conversation was finished for you. You couldn't bear to hear his accusations, feel his piercing eyes on you and endure this tension in the room.

You hurried to take the steps to your room, Gojo not speaking up again.

Maybe you were overreacting. But if you felt the way you felt, why try to act not like it? He said he wanted to see your real emotions, he could feel it.

After yesterday you wouldn't need to be told twice to give him the cold shoulder.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ Yesterday

"What is this?" he held the cursed piece of paper up, the one you didn't know about. The one he just stole from you.

"A letter for me."

You looked into his eyes, your face was scowling now. He didn't have the right to just take your things, sneak around in your business and then act like you did something wrong.

"From the higher-ups." he let out a low joyless laugh. "You talk to them regular?"

He was intimidating. His body seemed so much bigger suddenly, his eyes like blades and he towered above you.

"Talk about me with them?"

"Stop." you narrowed your eyes as he let out another of these scary chuckles.

"Do you tell them all the things I do?" he shook his head and a scary smile mirrored his laugh. "Tell them everything about our marriage?"

"I said, Stop." you snatched the letter from him, finally having it secured.

"Is it true you meet up with them regular?" he didn't smile anymore. Didn't laugh. There was only this vulnerability and you did feel bad. But in this moment all of it clashed down on you, your exhaustion and everything on top made you overwhelmed like no time before.

"Why do you care?" you turned around trying to hide the tears that were clouding your eyes. Suppressing the heavy breathing and the hiccups. The shaking. Everything was becoming so loud, so alive.

"I care!" he became louder. "If my wife is talking to old hags more than to me! I care when she meets up with the people who controlled my whole life, and discusses me with them!"

Now it was your turn to laugh. "You want to talk about control?" you shook your head. "Gojo, you had freedom! My whole life was built up to marry you, that is my whole purpose. You had control, you had the freedom to have a childhood! It is my duty to meet up with them, I have no other choice!"

Now you could feel his infinity. It felt unstable, uncomfortable, just awful in your back. "But you do." his voice was eerily calm. "You could have talked to me. You could have come to me, instead of working with them!"

"Oh please, do you hear yourself? Working with them, what do you think they talk with me about?" you turned around to look at him and the sight shocked you. He looked like a whole different person. What a smile does to a lerson right? And how the disappearance of one changes one.

"Well it's worse enough that you feel the need to keep it from me."

"What do you expect from me?!" you screamed now, the exhaustion now making your head dizzy. Or was it really just the exhaustion?

"Do you expect me to tell you everything? To immediately trust you? I don't know you, Gojo!"

He flinched at that, the anger in him was rising. "At least I try to get to know you! You just run away from me and don't even consider us working together! How should I know you, if you don't open up?!"

"How do you expect me to just open up?" you hiccuped, the tears now falling, the paper in your hands getting wet. "Since the beginning of the discussion of this marriage you rejected my existence. You made me deal with our Clan relationships alone since our wedding day, how do you expect me to just share all of it now with you?"

Your breathing was uneven, the tears blocking your lungs, making it oh so hard to breathe.

"But I am trying right now-"

"I know, okay?" your voice began to fall apart, becoming more hoarse. "I know you try, but a couple of conversations don't fix everything! I don't expect you to fix everything right now, but you have to forgive me if I can't switch up after a couple of days. This isn't your issue, it's mine."

His body was shaking a bit. He was still so tall, you couldn't look at his face, it seemed impossible. "I think our marriage shouldn't be discussed with these old hags. That isn't just your issue, it's mine too."

"It's not about how our marriage is going." speaking was hurting a bit, and the words were heavy on your lips. It felt so unfair. "It's about what… I should do. How my Clan relies on me in this. How I have to steady their relationship with the Gojo Clan." Through a heir.

"And how can I trust you on that?" his eyes seemed so coldly empty, it was almost scary. A person can be so different. His words stung and at the same time almost made you laugh.

"You talk a lot about me needing to open up and trust you, but at the same time you sneak into my letters and my business." You stood up.

"I think that says more about you than me."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

After that evening Gojo said he had to go on a 'mission' and that the Honeymoon would be fine to be cut short. He left the same morning. There was already an uber for you ready, the little hotelroom for yourself and his things long gone.

You really shouldn't surprised and you hated yourself for crying that morning after he left. But it still hurt. How he could always just leave. You felt so alone.

And now you were 'home'.

You couldn't stand looking at him for too long that was clear from the dinner yesterday. You couldn't stand his anger.

You just wanted to curl yourself in a ball and sleep forever. But even the sleep was a chore, the nightmares still not leaving. The only good time was with the young Hina, who made you go outside and for the first time you explored the big mansion you were living in.

And even though it was tiring, you were happy she made you go through the big halls. It gave you a task, a new adventure, something else than the next meeting with them to focus on.

The garden was beautiful. All the flowers, some you have never seen or heard from before, blooming in these varieties of vibrant colors. The big trees giving a safe place from the sun and a small lake, which you could sit next to.

"Do you feel better, My lady?" Hina was desperately trying to make you feel better, she was really a sweet girl.

"Yeah, it's calming here." the breeze which made your hair float a bit was refreshing.

"I'm glad." she smiled, "I was a bit worried after you ate without my lord this morning.

The cold that came over you made you shiver. What should you tell her? What would she think of the truth? How would she react? You'd better not tell her, hina had other problems. Hina shouldn't find out what you're going through and even if she did, would she tell Gojo? Would she tell him what your mother said to you? No, you couldn't risk that, it just wasn't reasonable.

She was such a nice girl.

So caring. So open minded. How were you so lucky? To have a face around you that's not stoic? You couldn't be more thankful.

"Oh, We just agreed to eat separately because of our different bed and his work time. And he has to eat early, that's why."

She locked a bit perplexed. And the little frown on her face told you that she didn't really believe you. But she didn't press anymore, just explained the flowers to you.

"Should we go to the library next?"

"That sounds lovely."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ Satoru never felt so bad. Yeah, he felt guilty a couple of times but never like this. But at the same time he was hurt. It felt like something was pressed down in his stomach and pushed around, when he just thought of these old bastards working with you.

He felt terrible. How was he supposed to act now? he wanted to go talk to you, but at the same time he felt like that would only make things worse. You worked with these people, you tolerated their ways. These people who were the root of the problem of this doomed society.

Maybe you did it all for your clan, but shouldn't your marriage with him be your priority now? Maybe he was being a selfish asshole, but it just hurt so damn much.

And then there was the letter. He still had the second letter, the one from your mother that you had left on your bedside table.

And he just didn't know whether he should open it or not. Actually he wanted to, actually he had to, because he wanted to know what was really written in there, but…

There was also the hurt look on your face when he had opened the other one. Every time he closed his eyes he saw this vulnerable expression on your face.

Would you even be able to forgive him then?

At the same time, you had lied to him and he just didn't know what to believe anymore. What should he do?

The paper in his hands was heavy, hard and incredibly uncomfortable in his hand, it was as if it was cursed.

He still knew the letter from the higher-ups by heart.

Dear Mrs. Gojo,

We are pleased to inform you that your little misstep is being forgiven. We hope you have a good honeymoon. Despite everything, we are still very unhappy with the incident and hope that you have learned from it to let us know before you act. But we are glad that you have taken the matter into your own hands and wish you happy days in which you hopefully get your husband under control.

See you at the next meeting.

The paper rustled in his hand and although his heart was beating incredibly fast, almost like to stop him, he opened the paper with his shaking fingers.

He was in the jujutsu academy near his old classroom. His mission was long finished. Earlier this day he wanted to talk to Geto about everything that has happened but his friend had accepted a mission that would probably take a while.

And now Satoru was alone to make probably a bad decision.

On the letter were numbers, no rather a date not so far away, which made him shiver.

Something was odd with the way the letter was written, the writing of your mother felt eerily. And he felt cursed energy. No, there had to be something wrong with your mother.

Should he really read it? Was it really his business what your mother was writing you?

The last week he got to see and hear you cry every night. Whispering your mother's name in fear. Maybe you did because you missed her. But something about this woman ticked something in him off.

He didn't want to sneak around behind your back.

But it began to be his business, the moment he started to care about his darling wife.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The Friday knocked on the door of your mind every minute of every day. And even though you didn't want to open the door for it, it did come around.

And you knew as you woke up that it would be torture.

You were tired. It was surreal how you could even stand up. How were you supposed to attend a meeting like that?

With a heavy heart you got ready and your eyes fell on the old hairpin your mother had given you - she really was everywhere.

This morning hina hadn't come by your room at all to tell you that gojo was eating breakfast.

Was it really still that early? No, it was almost noon. Oh God, noon! You had to get ready, you should be there soon!

Once again, they had scheduled so much time that you felt horrible. Would you have to listen to them babble on for hours again, the nasty words about your clan and how you would defile it?

"Hina?," you picked up your things and got ready. "I have to go now, would you please let the cook know that I'm not eating here today?"

There was no answer for a long time but eventually the girl came in with wide eyes.

"What do you mean, you are going?" she asked.

"Of course, Ihave to go to the meeting, didn't I tell you? Ihave an appointment." you took your hairpin and this time you even got ready with it.

"But why today?"

"I told you I have to go today. It's Friday, isn't it?"

Hina seemed different, somehow more tense than usual and it didn't make you feel good.

"If you say so." she said and picked up a few things that were dirty. "But please come back on time, not as late as last time, my lady."

A chuckle escaped you, as you saw her worried look. Why was she so tense about this?

"Don't worry, I won't die."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Did you make any progress?"

You wanted to eat your words. Since you came into the building you once called home you felt like a corpse. Your mother wasn't here, the maids telling you she got sick this morning.

You thought it wouldn't be that bad without her but you were mistaken. Normally she would sit beside you on the other side of the table, but now you sat there alone, like you were fighting against them on your own. Like no one here was on your side.

"My Honeymoon was lovely, thank you." you didn't know how the sentence slipped past your lips, but your exhaustion made your tongue slippery and your attitude bigger.

"Be careful young lady, you can be very thankful you are even still his wife! After your little misstep you can be very grateful for our forgiveness." an elderly woman spoke.

Every meeting she picked at you and took you apart. She always seemed so mad at you.

"I am." you lowered your head, hitting yourself for your carelessness.

"So there is a baby on the way?"

The leader of them, an old man with a long beard was looking at you with a neutral look. You could never read him.

The question scared you since you left for your honeymoon. This pressure on top of you was making you sick. The weight of it making you dizzy. What were you supposed to do? If you told them no, you could easily be banished back to your own Clan, and lose all of respect your mother had left for you.

If you told them yes, then you had to…

No, no, no, no, why? Why did you have to be a puppet for them? Why couldn't you just live? Why did you have to push all your emotions aside and drown them?

You were so scared of the night. So scared of the act you should have already done.

"It isn't, isn't it?" the elderly woman laughed as you gripped your stomach.

And even though it was empty, you felt like throwing up.

"I told you!" the woman stood up. "This girl shouldn't have been chosen for this! We need a woman who knows what is at stake here, not a filthy selfish little girl, who cries at the pressure!"

Every word pierced you, and you hated that tears formed themselves.

"Someone like your granddaughter?" The 'leader' of them raised an eyebrow. "Please, Kamo, that's ridiculous. And not in our control. Mrs. Gojo wanted to meet every girl and judge them personally. And be in control of the relations with other Clans."

His look at you was just as poisonous, regardless of his previous words.

"We have to work with this. Until we have found an alternative."

An alternative.

You were screwed. They had already a search going for a replacement. Were already ready to drop you and break the news to your Clan.

"I think she is misunderstanding something." A man, who was a bit younger than the rest, smiled smugly at you. "This whole thing isn't about love or wanting to do things. It's about what you have to do."

"So just get it over with and spare yourself the trouble?"

Your body felt so heavy, everything tense, fighting the urge to run away, to throw up and hide all at once.

Suddenly the door swung open and one of the guards came in completely out of breath and visibly agitated.

"I really tried, but I just couldn't stop him! That's just not in my power." he was out of breath.

"What are you talking about?" the old 'leader' stood up and suddenly looked so small. His eyes were big, something like fear was there.

"Well.." the guard looked uncomfortable.

And then you heard it. At first you thought it was one of them but then you realized.

"What do you think you are doing, talking to my wife like that?"

No, that couldn't be. How? How was he here? Why? What did you give away? No, this had to be one of your dumb dreams. Because it just couldn't be that Satoru Gojo just came through that door-

Oh.

Satoru had clothes on you had never seen on him before. It was an kimono, the usual for Clan leaders. His face was concentrated, didn't show any weakness in front of this important people. Instead it was almost belittling how he looked at them.

"There you are sweetheart!" his face lit up, as he spotted you, there was no sign of your fight and his anger. There was just Satoru.

He walked over to you, all these oh so mighty people clearing the way for him. He didn't even bat an eye at them. Without any hesitation he sat down next to you.

"Now, it really wasn't polite to not inform me of this meeting." he looked at them, with one of his challenging smiles. "But I will forgive it this one time. Now, what did you want to discuss with the Gojo leaders?"

You could see the shock in their faces. The elderly that screamed earlier, now glaring at you. Her gaze was almost cutting you, it was that sharp. And the old leader hesitated before sitting down.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered into his ear, careful to be silent enough that they wouldn't hear you.

"We will talk later." he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

"This wasn't really a meeting with the Gojo leaders." the slightly younger man spoke up, breaking the silence from the mighty higher-ups.

"Oh, but I don't understand." Gojo tilted his head. "If it wasn't then why did you speak to my wife?"

A shiver went down your back as you saw into their faces. They didn't say anything. Suddenly the position of power was shifted and they were careful to say something.

"It was about her duties for her Clan." the elderly woman shook her head. "And she was specifically asked to be her alone."

"I wonded," His grip on your hand tightened. "What of these duties are so important, you can't discuss with me too? Because last time I checked, my wife's Clan was the Gojo Clan now. So what responsibility does she hold that I don't?"

Your hands began to sweat. All of these people were shooting daggers at you and you felt like you would be murdered if Satoru left the room.

"She still has to make the relation of the Gojo Clan with her old one better-"

"And why can't I be there too?" Satoru started to laugh. "That's the thing you don't really have a reason other than to play my wife against me. Don't you?"

You couldn't help but lower your head. The tears now pushing your head down.

"Well, she wanted to come alone with her mother!" the woman who seemed to be called Kamo spoke loudly. Now you could feel all of their gazes. "Didn't you, Mrs. Gojo?"

Your body began to heat up, fire embracing you, swallowing you whole. It was itching. Decisions, decisions, decisions, why were you not doing anything, why couldn't you move? Your own body felt like a prison.

"You dumb girl, say something!" you heard her scream again. "If you don't then-"

Suddenly her voice died down. You could feel the shift and pressure was falling off of you onto the ground. And as you slowly rose your head you saw the woman pressed onto the wall, the others all in a fighting pose.

"Be careful what you are saying." Satoru's voice was icy. His eyes were like a warning and he didn't even move to activate his cursed technique. Was that the great Gojo your father was so fond about?

"Anyone talking ill about ot to my wife makes themself the Gojo Clan as enemy. And you know what I'm capable of."

The woman dropped to the ground.

"I think we can move the meeting to another day, can't we?"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Why were you there today?"

Satoru sat on the opposite side of the dining table, the car ride home with him long behind you two. You waited till home to talk to him, the courage finally growing.

He stopped eating and looked up at you. He still had these clothes on, the ones that mirrored his real position.

He shifted in his seat, his eyes avoiding yours.

Then he sighed and dropped his cutlery. "I didn't want you to be alone with them."

You shook your head. "Why? I told you, it's just about-

"Stop it." he raised a hand. "Please let me talk."

You kept quiet after that. Now it was your turn to look down.

"I've been so angry the last few days. You accused me of not knowing you, but at the same time you pretended to know what my childhood was like. How could you have known that? I've known these people since i was little, i know about their games, their desire for control and especially their obsession with strength."

His voice was slightly shaking. "I'm not denying that I had some freedom, but I want you to know that a big cage is still holding someone down. And these people have always controlled my cage."

You wanted to say something, but every sentence that your head crafted was forgotten in the next second.

"But," he began, his voice now a little firmer. "It still didn't give me the right to be like this to you. Mainly I want to apologize to you and that I came to the meeting today was not because I didn't trust you but because I couldn't stand the thought of them torturing you."

"I'm sorry for invading your privacy. I know it wasn't right and I'm sorry that I only realized it after I read the letter from your mother."

You pushed the chair back so violently, it fell over. "You did, WHAT?"

Satoru looked down, shameful.

"That's why you knew where and when we would meet up?" you couldn't contain the hurt in your voice, but for the first time you didn't care.

He nodded.

"Do you really think I'm acting against you, or-"

"No!" Now it was his turn to stand up. And in only a matter of seconds he stood right before you. "It's not because I think badly of you!"

His hands were going through his hair, making it much messier than usual. You saw how he bit his lip, and it felt surreal to see Gojo Satoru so vulnerable.

"I- All of this was just driving me crazy!" he sighed frustrated. "Knowing you meet up with these people and didn't even want me to know about it. Knowing these people were talking and seeing you more than I was."

Your mind went blank as you looked at his eyes. Were they always this sad?

"When you said you wanted to have a Honeymoon to get to know me, I felt so happy, so relieved!" he turned around and paced around the rooom.

"Do you know how you look at me?" his voice was shaking. "Scared. You look at me like you are scared of me. Like I will do you wrong. Like it's me that's pressuring you."

He stopped in his tracks and let out a shaky laugh. "And then I thought that I was maybe imagining that and you weren't scared of me."

He shook his head. "And then I saw the letter. I didn't read it right away, but when I asked you some things, you lied to me and had that scared look again. And… I don't know, it was so crushing to know you never wanted to go with me on our honeymoon!"

His voice broke down a bit at the end.

And as you stood there, you felt yourself becoming shaky too. You didn't want him to think that. You were mad at him, you were still hurt, obviously, but…

You didn't want him to be hurt too.

"Satoru…" you began, but he raised another hand to stop you.

"That still doesn't excuse what I did. I don't want you to pity me into forgiveness."

You shook your head. "I am at fault too." One step towards him. "I just have my problems to trust you right away. But you were right."

You smiled as you looked down. "I do accuse you of not knowing me, but then run away from you trying. That's unfair."

As you looked up, he was already looking at him. And you could see a slight redness in his oh so blue eyes.

"I will try to open up more."

He gulped as stared at you. "I will be patient. And- I will make it up to you, till you forgive me! Really, I will never invade your-"

You chuckled a bit, some of the forming tears in your eyes escaping. "It's alright Satoru. You don't have to promise the world right now."

"Let's take it slow. That's a start."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ It was late at night. You were sitting on the couch in Satoru's big living room. You were watching a movie, he was begging to show you.

And for the first time since that night you were relaxed and all the exhaustion fell from you. Your head fell onto his shoulder, any feel of shame was long gone from being so tired.

He didn't move as you were drifting into your long awaited sleep.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he was whispering as you hummed.

"I still want to apologize. For not appearing to any arrangement meetings. I never did that."

His shoulder was really soft and you felt so heavy.

"I hope you sleep well, sweetheart. You deserve it more than anyone."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

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[arisewanekosuki]

Traveler's little helper: Inazuma

Ayato, Gorou, Itto, Kazuha, Heizou, Thoma x Fem! Reader Teyvat , Mondstadt , Liyue , Sumeru, Fontaine --------------------

💙 It was a long time before the head of Kamisato family, Ayato met you face to face, but he heard everything about your group when you stepped for the first time in Ritou. At first he didn’t think too much about you. The only thing he wished for is that your famous group will help stop Shogun from taking the visions. Aether was more reluctant to help, but you wanted to aid them immediately. Yet Aether was the one who had the final word at what your group will do, to Ayato’s disappointment. When you became close friends with Ayaka, he was delightful. You were so kind to her, you invited her to some ‘girls night’, he still remembers how his beloved young sister came with a big smile on her face. Thanks to you Ayaka could for a moment feel like a normal girl her age and this truly makes Ayato happy. When the Vision hunt was stopped and peace came to Inazuma, it seems like fate brought the two of you together to finally meet. He was grateful that Ayaka was busy with other things that day, and that your group could help him with his plan. And he could see with his own eyes what kind of people you and Aether are. Ayato noticed that Aether may feel something more than friendship towards you and because of that he started to tease Traveller and sometimes you. Yet at some time he started to tease you more. Your bashful face, your pouting one, your smile, he really started to enjoy all of your expressions. And because of that he did start to spend more of his free time with you, learning more about you, about your world. Even if there were some stuff you avoided talking about, he respected that and didn't pry further even if he was very curious about them. When you visited him and he had more free time, you two would go for a walk with some cute little puppy. At some point stopping to buy bubble tea. Both you and Ayato got different flavours and you were curious about his drink. Ayato let you try his drink, smiling to himself that this will be an indirect kiss. Of course he couldn't waste an opportunity and asked if he could try yours and you didn't mind. Later when you invited him to Teapot he would brag how he and you shared a drink to insinuate about indirect kisses. To his amusement, later some of the guys would try to share their drinks with you if they get a chance, but Ayato wouldn’t mind.  Even if they were successful, in the end he was the first one. He heard from Ayaka how your group declined her offer to buy inazuma-style clothes for them, even when you seemed to be interested in wearing them. This is why Ayato bought some Kimonos in your favourite colors and patterns, fans and hairpins. You were a bit overwhelmed with his presents but you accepted them. Ayaka and Yoimiya helped you wear kimono and put on some Inazuman style make up. When you came out from the room, a bit bashful, you took his, Aether's and Thoma's breath away. The girls were teasing boys for being silent after seeing you and you were worried if maybe you looked bad. But after a moment there was a wave of compliments towards you.

For Ayato you looked so gorgeous, so cute, at this moment he did wish he could just hide you from other people's eyes. But at the same time he realized something. If other people see you like this, there will be even more people who will fall in love with you too, and this is something he doesn't want to do. After all, he already has many rivals.Ayato is aware of Thoma feelings towards you, but he wants things to be fair, he won't make his servant life harder just because both of them feel the same towards you. And yet, one day he couldn't keep his jealousy in himself. It was the day when you complimented Thoma cooking and said he would be a 'perfect husband'. So later Ayato fonds many tasks for Thoma to handle alone, while he was doing anything that would show you that he too can be a ‘perfect husband’. But to his disappointment he didn’t hear you call him that, but he is not going to give up. Even if he knows being part of the Kamisato family won't bring a wonderful, normal life, he promised himself that if you choose him in the end he will do anything to always protect you and make you happy.

🧡 The general of the Watatsumi Army, Gorou, was grateful to you and your group. You and Aether saved Teppei and wanted to  help the Watatsumi Army to stop Raiden Shogun from taking visions. Of course he quickly noticed that you're not a fighter, even if you tried to use a bow it didn't go well. He was wondering why Aether takes you into such dangerous situations and he voiced his worry. You only smiled and said that you are here to make sure nothing bad will happen to Aether and no matter what you can't really die here. After this Gorou wondered if you're some kind of deity or Yōkai. 

The Canine Warrior considered you and Aether as friends and that was it, at least till the Vision hunt ended. Even if he was busy at Watatsumi Island he noticed your group running around and helping with whatever you can. Then you would find him at some point in the day just to remind him to take a break from time to time, sometimes bringing some cakes to share with the General as a reward for good work. This really made him happy that you are concerned about his well being.

Kokomi noticed some change in her General, especially when you were around him. She could tell he is yet not aware of his own feelings this is why she decided to help a bit. When your group was helping on Watatsumi she would ask Aether to help her with something and send you with Gorou for some non-dangerous mission. Hoping that spending time with each other will bring both of you closer. But there was another problem Kokomi didn't realize at first. Gorou is not only one fighting for your love and after this one ‘mission’ Traveller wasn't willing to leave your side alone ever again. But fear not Gorou, your Divine Priestess will come with the perfect strategy for you to win (Y/n)’s heart.

One day you and Aether found him when Yae Miko was teasing him. You tried to stop her but with her silver tongue she could tease you and Aether too. Thankfully one worker of Yae publishing came asking Guuji for help with something. After that you all decided to help train Gorou how to deal with this type of person like her. At first Aether pretended to be a merchant and this didn't go well, then you pretended to be pink Kitsune. You talked about his fluffy tail and ears but what you didn't expect was for him to become red like a tomato and begging you to stop. While you were apologizing to him Aether couldn't help but notice Gorou's tail wagging uncontrollably. The blonde Traveler could only sigh at that... knowing where this is already going.

When your group came face to face with Yae Miko you never expected that 'fight' would end in such disaster. Gorou saying that both of them are the same, that they want someone to brush their tails and Miko deleverying that she doesn't have a tail. And to add salt to the wound she said how much he wished for you to be the one taking care of his tail. She didn't leave you and Aether too, starting teasing your group, you all retreated with hot faces.

Gorou often visits your Teapot, it's really nice here and he likes the training ground you prepared there. But after you reached Sumeru and brought a guy with big fox ears and a fluffy tail, he did feel self-conscious about his features. He noticed how you would look at this guy's tail, wanting to touch it. And he couldn't help but be jealous how his tail was in such good condition. He only could dream of his fur being so soft looking and shiny.

One day when he was relaxing in his room, he heard someone knocking. After opening the door he saw you smiling and asking if you could talk with him. After asking how he is you finally gave him something. "What is this?" he asked. You told him that this is oil Tighnari is using for his tail and knowing that Gorou likes to take care of his own too, you asked him for a bottle for Gorou too. The general was moved that you still thought about him, he thanked you and with a bright, red face asked if you wanted to help him apply the oil and brush his tail. This surprised you but you excitedly agreed. Gorou couldn't stop thinking how nice it feels when it's you touching his tail. And this close contact made him realize that your smell is very nice, it had some calming effect on him too. At this moment he again started to wonder if you're some wonderful, kind deity that came to bless him and others.

Gorou is not sure what he feels towards you. You're important to him but he can't tell whether those feelings are platonic or romantic. But when his heart beats so fast when you’re close he thinks that his feelings lean more towards romantic love.

🧡 Arataki "The One and Oni" Itto,  likes you very much. After helping him save Takuya he already considered your group as his homies.  Itto noticed how you were amazed by him being Oni, of course he had to show off and your comments only give him even more energy. To hear you compliment him even more, he started to look for your group while you were doing commission, so he can tag along and help with whatever he can. Beat some treasure hoarders? Just look how powerful he is! Oh you need to collect some unagis? He is already on the beach with his gang searching for them. He can do whatever you want if at the end of the day he can hear you compliment him. Shinobu sometimes thinks you placed some magic on him, for her boss to behave so well, it's really a miracle.  

When you left Inazuma, Itto felt quite depressed. There was a time when he didn't have energy for anything and he didn't understand why. His gang was worried about him, to see their boss in such a gloomy mood was something new. Shinobu already knew that Itto may like you more than a friend without him knowing this himself. So she tried to encourage him to do some fair work. "If you earn mora you can go to another Nation to see her." It worked… for one day, then he had to take a break from working. She sighed after seeing her boss playing TCG and training Onikabutos, well at least he came back to his old self. But to her annoyance he started coming with plans for festivals so he can invite you because he is sure you wouldn’t miss them. The Deputy Leader of the Arataki Gang had to put a stop to that nonsense before they went out of control.

When you came back to Inazuma to invite him to TeaPot he was super happy. He grabbed you and hugged you. Aether and Paimon were panicking that he would break your bones with this hug. It would be a lie if you said you didn't have a problem with breathing for a moment. When Itto let you go, he scratched his head and apologized and promised to be more careful.But it will be hard for him to keep this promise when again he’ll get too excited.

After you showed him his room you told him that from now if he wants he can sometimes join your adventures. Whenever you'll find Itto in TeaPot you can expect him wanting to help with your commissions or just make sure nothing bad will happen to you while adventuring. If there are other guys around he become very competitive, showing off by fighting enemies, being touchy with you. Once while traveling with him and other boys, Itto grabbed you and placed you on his shoulder, giving you a ride. You were embarrassed by this but Oni only gave a hearty laugh, meanwhile other guys were glaring at him.

Many people noticed how Itto unconsciously would do some things that are related in some way to you. Like one time he was talking about painting his horns in rainbow colors so others would notice him immediately and yet... The next day your friends noticed how he painted them in your favorite color. When Shinobu asked why he changed his mind, he proudly said that he thought this color suited him better. When you said you like his new ‘look’ Itto was super giddy for the rest of the day.  

Itto often writes to Miss Hina, sometimes sharing his plans about how to make you happy and waiting if Miss Hina considers them good ideas. “My homie came back sad from her last adventure. I tried everything!!!!! Playing TCG I EVEN LET HER BEAT ME AND STILL IT DIDN'T HELP!!!! Idk what to do!!!! Girls like sweets right?!?! Should I get sweets for her?!? PLEASE HELP MISS HINA!!!!”

“Dear BestInInazumaOnikabuto There is a chance your friend encountered some difficulties on her adventure. First you should ask her about it. But don’t force her if she doesn't want to tell you what happend. You have to show her that no matter what you’re here for her and if she ever needs you will always lend her your ear. You can offer her some sweets but please remember, because she is a girl it doesn't mean that she loves them, everyone has their own tastes. So please don’t be discouraged if she declines, you can always cook her favourite dish or invite her to some restaurant. I hope your friend will feel better soon. Miss Hina” After reading reply Itto become serious, he will do anything to bring that smile back to your face.

💚💙 The wandering samurai, Kaedehara Kazuha truly enjoys your presence. The first time he met your group he couldn't help but pay attention to the fragrance of you, Aether and Paimon. Aether’s and Paimon’s essence was like a stars but you, somehow there is nothing that he could compare it to yours. It's not like this fragrance was unpleasant, to his surprise it had a calming effect on him. 

When Beidou was smuggling your group to Inazuma, he could spend some days talking with you, before reaching the Island ruled by the Archon of Eternity. He quickly came to like spending time with you, he would tell some stories while he was wandering and you would tell some things about you. At first he thought he was just curious about your presence because you're not from this world, but the more he spent time with you then more he realized that he likes you as a person. He quickly acknowledged that he may have some crush on you, but he didn't do anything about it. He thought it would pass away soon anyway.

And yet even after stopping Vision hunt and later traveling with your group, only made his heart beat faster, especially when you were around. Kazuha wouldn't be shy to tell his feelings towards you, even if you don't repcorate them, but he didn't want his feelings to burden you in any way. This is why he decided to not tell you, but this doesn't mean he won't fight for your affections when he knows that many are already trying to win your heart. 

Kazuha loves wandering but after you invited him to the Serenitea, he found himself often sleeping in the room you prepared for him. Here he can talk with his friends and the most important, you. Even if you are in another Nation he can just wait for your group to take a break from adventuring and come back to your house in Realm within.  And then he can ask and see how you are faring. His favourite part is when he can sit in your room and listen to what your group has been doing lately. He doesn't mind that most of the time there is someone else too to listen. Just spending time with you is enough for him.

The last member of the Kaedehara clan often trains on the training grounds you prepared in the TeaPot. Sometimes he spars with Aether, both of them always taking this spar session seriously when you watch them from afar. Most of the time it ends in a draw, because both of them don't want to lose in front of you. When you compliment him you could see him show you his beautiful smile. Haiku after haiku would come to his head after he met you, because of that he decided to dedicate a book with poems about you. He hopes that one day he will be able to show it to you and that you will like all the poems written within.

Kazuha will always remember the day when your group was traveling around Inazuma. That day your group made a camp, he was sitting by a campfire, while Aether and Paimon were asleep. Kazuha was changing his bandages, then you came with some lavender melons, noticing his burned hand. The albino boy wanted to hid it, not wanting you to see his ugly scars from that day. But you came closer to him, asking if it's okay for you to touch his hand. He let you grab his right hand, you gently caressed it and asked if it still hurts. He smiled and responded that it stopped hurting some time ago, but then he noticed your face filled with sadness. What he didn't expect was for you to apologize that you can't heal his burns. He hate to see this frown on your face, with his healthy hand he stroked your cheek, telling you that you don't have to apologize. You didn't say anything and you placed a small kiss on his hand. Even to this day, when Kazuha looks at his right hand he remembers the warmth of your lips and this memory always makes his cheeks red. 

The wandering samurai will never let anything bad happen to you on his watch. With his wonderful senses he can protect you from any ambush. Even when your other friends become a bit reckless while fighting you can be sure Kazuha will be there shielding you from anything. When he brings you closer to him he can’t help but enjoy your surprise mixed with shyness.

💚💙 The number one Tenryou Commission detective, Shikanoin Heizou, was very excited to meet the renowned Traveler and his two companions. When your group 'saved' him from Nobushi he quickly realized who you all are and he hoped this opportunity would let him learn more about your famous group. Some stories that reached Inazuma would say that you and Aether are lovers but he quickly realized they weren't true, at least to some extent. He saw that you are very dear to the blonde Traveler and he couldn't help but tease you both. At first Heizou was getting closer to you, Aether would try to stand between you both. Then when Heizou knew you already treat him as friend he started to be more touchy, placing his hand on your shoulder, or taking your hand in his to take you somewhere. He didn't only find Aether's pouty expressions amusing but your shy ones very adorable as well.

When Heizou learned you're interested in detective stories he was super happy, he would read you some novels or tell you of his cases.  When you invited him to Teapot the two of you would play detectives from time to time or when he had some case he would share details about it with you to hear your opinion. Because of that you became his 'little assistant'.

Heizou heard from Kazuha that you have some special ‘abilities’ like ‘reading stories’ of people you get close with. So he decided to ask you about it, even if you say you’re not sure how this works you told him that the deeper friendship between you two the more you can ‘read’ about your friend. Heizou with curiosity asked what you could read from him. You told him how he joined the Tenryou Commission, about his agency that he shared with Sango in the past, about Uesugi wanting to be his assistant and for now that was it. The detective was amazed by this, he then joked that he wished to have such ‘ability’, maybe then he would be closer to stopping his enemy.

When your group went to Fontaine, Heizou was very busy. He couldn't even visit your TeaPot and this brought him into a gloomy mood. “Ah~ I wonder what she is up to? I hope Paimon won't read to her all those detective novels…” he sighed. Kujo Sara only rolled her eyes, telling him to not slack off and get to work. But then another Doushin came to the room, finding both vision users and showed them a newspaper. “T-The Traveler and his companions were taken to Fortress of Meropide!!” After hearing that, Tengu had to stop Heizou from trying to leave Inazuma and go by ship to Fontaine. She tried to reason with him that you will be fine and that he has his own work to do. When he had some free time he went to your Serenitea, asking anyone that was there about your situation but sadly no one really knew what’s going on. Heizou knows that Aether won’t let anything bad happen to you and yet some fears took root in his heart.

After some time Heizou came again to see if your group came back to our house. Before he opened the door he already heard Paimon’s voice. He sighed with relief and with a smile he welcomed your group, like he wasn’t worried in the first place.

After you told everyone about your adventures in Fontaine you also introduced new friends that came from their new rooms. This wasn't surprising but Heizou really hoped that most of your new friends will be girls and the worst now there is another guy who knows how to charm others with his words. For you it seemed like Heizou and Lyney get along very well and to some extent it was true, when they are relaxing they can talk about many things but there are moments when they talk to each other using sweet words so you don’t even know that their talk is passive-aggressive. Both of them trying to bring your attention to them meanwhile annoying other your friends and Aether. After they got scolded by the Master of the House, they calmed down… at least for some time.   

Heizou always thought that love is not for him, at least till he doesn't become the best detective known in whole Teyvat, that people knowing his name will never choose the path of “Sin”.  And yet there he is, even while working his mind wanders to thoughts about you. He wasn't even sure when he started to feel this way about you, was it at the first meeting? Or maybe when you shared your interest in solving cases?

The detective smiled, he solved another case and now as his reward he hopes you will find time to do something together.    

❤ The housekeeper of Kamisato Clan, Thoma was really happy that he had chance to become friends with you and Aether. After Beidou left you in Ritou, he was the first to welcome you and help your group a bit around. Telling you more about Inazuma and its current problems. He liked how willing you were to help but sadly when Ayaka told your group about Vision Hunt and wanting to start a rebellion against Shogun, Aether refused to aid them. Thankfully he agreed to fulfill the younger child of the Kamisato family, three wishes. And after that Thoma’s and your paths diverged for a while.

After your group helped people who lost their visions and saved Masakatsu, you joined Thoma and Ayaka in Komore Teahouse for a small celebration and played the Hot Pot game. He hoped that soon you all will be able to play it again.

But to his surprise, the "fixer" was caught by a shogun’s men and brought to the ceremony to be the 100th person whose vision will be taken.  He didn’t expect to see your group come and save him. Before Raiden Shogun could take Thoma’s vision, Aether jumped to snatch it and then knocked the men that were holding Thoma. Paimon and you quickly joined them but while Aether tried to untie from the ropes the housekeeper, the Archon stopped him and started to approach your group. While Traveler was ready for a fight, you stood in front of Thoma, he knew you can’t do anything but he was moved that you still wanted to shield him. Then everything went fast, Aether was standing there and then lying on the floor unconscious, you ran toward him with Paimon and tried to wake him up. When the Archon was approaching your group you tried to shield Aether with your body. When the sword was raised preparing to cut you and Aether, Thoma threw a spear giving him a chance to now rescue your group.

After that you had to say goodbyes for now, when Thoma saw your group leaving the garden of Komore Teahouse he could only pray for a safe journey for your group.

When dark clouds left Inazuma and everything came back like before the Vision Hunt, Thoma was relieved. Doing his duties at Kamisato's house like he always does, that day he never expected for you to come alone to find him. With a bright smile you asked him if he wants to join your group for little adventures around Inazuma. The ‘fixer’ really wanted to go with you but he still had things to do, before he could decline Ayaka came and said that he should go and have some fun. He was grateful to his Milady. 

Thoma adores your company, he can talk about many things with you, even if there are some subjects you don’t know too much about, you are still willing to listen to him. He would take you in his free time to the outskirts so you can play together with animals and before he realized he started to see you in a different light.  

When you invited him to your Teapot Thoma couldn’t help himself and help with cleaning around, not only he but there is another person from his home land. The two of them took care of yours and Aether’s house. When you noticed them cleaning you were angry, you scolded them telling them that they are guests and they don’t have to clean anything, you wanted them to relax. After that, Thoma and Noelle still couldn't help themself and they were cleaning when you weren’t looking or when you were traveling with Aether.

Thoma of course loves cooking, so when he visits your Teapot, he often prepares food for you, Paimon, Aether and your other friends. One time when he prepared the whole dinner alone, he was happy seeing everyone enjoying it. But then. “Thoma! Your cooking is amazing! You would be a perfect husband!” you said savoring the taste of delicious food. He could feel his face getting hot but one look around and he could sense the dangerous atmosphere rising around the table, only you and Paimon were unaware of it. That day when he came back to Kamisato’s household, Ayato was waiting with many tasks for him. The next week Thoma was so busy he couldn’t even visit you for a moment.

The housekeeper wasn’t sure what to do with his feelings. He swore his loyalty to the Kamisato family and he knew the head of said family felt the same about you like he does. And everywhere you go it seems you charm even more people. Thoma felt troubled, not ready to let go of those feelings and yet he couldn’t do anything more with them either.

One night, he decided to sleep in the room you prepared in Teapot. When he was going to his room after a tiring day, he noticed someone lying on the sofa in the living room. When he came closer he smiled. There you were asleep, some artefacts lying around you, you even hugged one of them. Thoma didn’t want to wake you so he took you and carried you to your bedroom. While he was laying you onto your bed, he heard you mumbling “Need…find…better … artifacts for Thoma…” his heart skipped a beat. He tucked you in bed and placed a small kiss on your forehead. Even if his feelings never reach you, just being by your side even as a friend already makes him happy. 

----- Like always thank you for reading till the end! (^ v ^)/) And I'm very sorry if there is many mistakes… it's 01.40 am… I wanted to finish it and post it…TvT Haha I managed to finish it before new year!!!--….. Goodnight (＿ ＿*) Z z z

[ippipo]

l&ds boys w a gymrat s/o

xavier

this man loves lazing around all day but still gets things done, including working out. it helps even more when you love working out because he needs some sort of motivation. but the motivation is thrown out of the bus when he watches you workout, drool slightly spilling at how hot you looked when you were lifting weights, he wanted to have you then and there.

imagine when he finds out you have a workout buddy, it's like all hell broke loose. have you seen how possessive he is? he starts accompanying you more often at the gym, mostly to keep an eye on whoever that bastard friend of yours was, dude or not, you were all his to look at. especially when you're sweaty and still going on after your usual reps, god forbid anyone else sees this delicious sight of you.

you loved taking pictures of you flexing. and he loved looking at them. he sometimes sneaks in a few pictures while you're working out and you only find out two months later when his wallpaper caught your eye. it was a picture of you lifting weights. now that explains why you catch him staring at his phone for 10 minutes with a hazy look when you come back home from work and he hadn't realized you were back.

zayne

this man does chin ups like no other. and he's more than happy to do it with you. he knew you were a gymrat since you guys entered your 20s and he used to workout with you as friends. but now he gets to sneakily kiss you after every rep to tell you you're going a great job.

you would have different workout regimes but do it side by side because of the power of frien- sorry. because that's what makes it so much more fun. you would schedule days where you would exchange each other's routines and make it more fun.

on days where you both feel lazy, it's easier to motivate each other so you could get your asses to the gym. nothing he loves more than the feeling of satisfaction after a good workout. and you more.

now here comes the best part of working out together. he loves to shower with you after every workout. it makes it easy for both of you to calm down after an intense routine. and some intense sex....

a small habit of yours was that ever since you were kids, you would always put him in a headlock to greet him, and it's even more fun now because you could flex your muscles to him every now and then.

rafayel

the worst. he's always asking you to stay back at home. partly because he doesn't like being around others at the gym, they're all so stinky. when he tells you that, you find it making you a little insecure because you sometimes come back from a workout all sweaty and stinky but he immediately clarifies saying that he only wants to smell you. "weirdo," you slap his shoulder.

when you ask him to workout with you, he's complaining every alternate minute and asking you if it's over yet a billion times.

"babe, spare me please," he begs you every day. you weren't even forcing him to workout, but he just doesn't wanna be away from you. so he gets a beautiful idea of sitting there and looking pretty. while maintaining physical contact with you all the time. crunches? he would hold your feet down and pucker his lips like a fish so he could kiss you every time you rise. pushups? he would be under you, once again, just so you could kiss him. and it's really cute because you somehow started doing more reps.

he would leave hickeys in places where your muscles were visible so every time you go to the gym, everyone would know that you were clearly taken and no useless stank ass fucker is gonna try hitting on you after that.

sylus

oh, girl, he's a bigger gymrat. and he's absolutely delighted that you are too. he would buy three whole gyms for you at different places so you could have spontaneity every time you workout. apparently, it helps in remaining consistent in a routine when spontaneity is introduced and he just wants to be with you every second of the day, so now, he won't have to be away from you during workouts as well.

he loves taking pictures of you both flexing together. you would have a combined routine and he's all for it. he would never let you wear any clothing that covers your muscles because he loves your body so much.

he likes his privacy when he's working out but when you want to go to a public gym because you had a friend you wanted to workout with, he doesn't really mind not tagging along. he knows you're hot and he wants to show you off everywhere so there was nothing to be jealous of either.

he loves the idea of sweaty sex after a good workout. he would ravage your body in every corner of the gym because he can.