#hopefully it'll show up in the tags this time

[de1-os]

Penis unserious

bonus :

[14dayswithyou]

i really want to know how everyone will react when they find out that MC is an aromantic 🤔🤔🤔

✦゜ANSWERED: I've actually answered something similar to this a few times in the past (both here and on Curious Cat)!! But they'd all be completely fine with an aromantic (or even asexual) MC!

Ren would still want to be your top priority though, and would get a bit clingy/jealous if you spent time with others. They'd also want to be considered your best friend, and won't let you get to close to anyone else ^^;

[chexie]

Who the heck let that liar say when I’d be updating chapters

(its me i’m the liar)

[sheliesshattered]

Daemon/Rhaenyra holiday fanfic (My Gift This Year Is You)

Daemon returns to King’s Landing to celebrate the New Year’s holiday with his family, and finds Rhaenyra waiting to greet him.

Holiday-themed Daemrya fluff, set roughly in the s01e01 timeframe, borrowing from canon but not really sticking to it in any relevant way. Inspired by the Folgers “Home For The Holidays” commercial, because how can you not?

1600 words, rated a very light T, flirty pre-relationship-y stuff, nothing too scandalous. Posted on AO3 under the same title and username.

—

Ñuha Irudy Bisa Jēdarī Iksis Ao (My Gift This Year Is You)

Dawn had not yet broken over King’s Landing as Daemon guided Caraxes into a slow spiraling glide down towards the dragonpit atop Rhaenys’s Hill. He’d been away for years, but little had changed, certainly nothing that could be seen from above in the gloom that blanketed the city before daybreak. It was difficult not to feel as though he was stepping back in time with this homecoming, returning to the place where he’d grown to manhood. In a different year, long past, he might have expected his father to greet him at the Red Keep, or his grandparents, even. But he knew there would be no such welcome on this first day of the hundredth and twelfth year of the Targaryens’ rule over Westeros.

Since their grandfather’s passing, King’s Landing had been much more Viserys’s home than Daemon’s. In the eight years of his brother’s reign, Daemon had found more and more frequent reasons to stay away for moons or even years at a time, in Dragonstone or yet farther still in the free cities of Essos. He was his brother’s heir, it was true, at least until the Queen could produce a living son — but before his grandfather died, he’d been the spare while Viserys was the heir. That feeling of being extra, superfluous, unnecessary and unneeded, had never really faded from him. The moment Aemma birthed a boy to replace him as heir, Daemon would once again be rendered useless, and the knowledge kept him away from King’s Landing more often than he might have liked.

But, well— it was New Year’s Day. One hundred and twelve years since Aegon was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon hadn’t made it home for the last few, and he found he had missed it. The date was hardly noted in Essos, only celebrated by the few scattered Westerosi diaspora, or else marked by nothing more than a passing rude comment directed at House Targaryen. But here in King’s Landing, it was a festival looked forward to by all, lords and small folk alike. By midday, festive decorations in red and black and gold would line the streets, strung across alleyways and hung out of windows. At sunset the city would come alive with revelries, feasting and dancing and music that would last throughout the night, as the people celebrated another year of peace and prosperity under the guidance of the House they had once called Conquerors.

And for those descended from Aegon himself, it was a time to gather together as a family, to exchange gifts and strengthen the bonds of kinship that kept their House so strong. The ship he’d seen at anchor in Blackwater Bay spoke to the presence of House Velaryon, his cousin Princess Rhaenys and her family joining Viserys and Aemma for the holiday. There would be a feast in the great hall, the dancing and drinking far more exclusive than that of the smallfolk of King’s Landing, but no less joyous.

Yes, he had missed it, he thought as Caraxes landed in the dragonpit with a grace that belied the blood wyrm’s size. And though Daemon would admit it to none but himself, he had missed his family as well, these long years away. He and Viserys had never been the closest of brothers, but he missed him all the same. And he’d found an unexpected ally in their cousin Aemma, when she’d married Viserys and come to King’s Landing, and over the years Daemon had come to consider her more sister than cousin. Rhaenys and Corlys were good company, enough to outweigh all the bores in Viserys’s court and council. And then of course there was—

“Good morrow, uncle,” her voice interrupted his musings, as though thinking of Rhaenyra had summoned her by sheer force of his desire to see her. He knew her voice instantly, and didn’t startle at the sound of it, as though some part of him had known to expect her presence. Of all his family, he’d missed Rhaenyra the most. Of all his family, he held the most affection for his dear niece, especially as she’d grown into adulthood, her sharp and witty mind the only match for his anywhere in the court.

“I must have the wrong dragonpit,” Daemon said, turning and looking around as though to check his surroundings. From the corner of his eye, he watched the smile bloom across her face at his jest.

“This is the only dragonpit in King’s Landing,” Rhaenyra replied archly as she crossed towards him. “And the only dragonpit anywhere in the world where you might be greeted by family, this New Year’s Day. Or do you not recognize your own niece, after so many years away?” she challenged, one eyebrow arched to offset the grin still pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“A dragon could never forget another dragon,” he assured her with mock-solemnity. “Not even one so small as you,” he added, tapping her nose affectionately.

“That must be why I have been unable to forget you, either,” she returned, almost a challenge, “even when I sometimes might wish I could.”

He narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t rise to the bait. “What are you doing out alone this early?” he asked instead.

“I awoke in the hour of the wolf, having dreamed you would arrive with the dawn. So I took it upon myself to come and meet you and escort you back to the Keep, in case the King’s Guard has forgotten the face of their own Crown Prince, so long from home.”

“‘Rhaenyra The Dreamer’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.”

She laughed at that, in the easy and unrestrained way he knew she only allowed herself when they were alone. “I have not dreamed of the doom of our house, uncle,” she assured him. “Only you.”

“If you woke in the hour of the wolf, you must have foreseen my arrival just as I was departing. Prophetic indeed.”

“You did not fly all night?” Rhaenyra asked, a small line forming between her eyebrows as she regarded him with confusion.

“It’s a long flight from Essos,” Daemon said, “and Caraxes will complain if I ask him to cover the whole distance at once.” He pulled off his riding gloves to give the dragon an affectionate pat. Caraxes curved his long neck back towards them, where he was rewarded in his aim of receiving chin scritches from the Realm’s Delight. “We rested at Dragonstone before continuing on,” Daemon added, watching his dragon lean into his niece’s hand, “and left there hours after sunset to time our arrival with dawn.”

In the city beyond the dragonpit, tower bells began to ring, first only a few far distant, but then others taking up the call, welcoming the first light of the new year.

“Ah, there’s sunrise, officially,” she said. “Though I suppose I can forgive you for arriving a few minutes early. Happy new year, Daemon.”

“Biarior arlior jēdari, Rhaenyra,” he echoed back in High Valyrian, unable to keep himself from smiling at her. “I brought you something from far away,” he added, turning to one of the bags that hung from Caraxes’ saddle and sorting through it to find the small package he was looking for.

When he turned back to her, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes lightly. “We exchange gifts after the feast, uncle.”

“Ah,” he said, shaking a finger at her, “but I have another gift for you then, something more public. I had planned to seek you out to give you this in private, but thankfully you’ve saved me the effort.”

“I am not a child anymore,” she reminded him primly, “demanding extra presents at every nameday and New Year's feast.”

“Good,” he said as he took her hand and pressed the silk-wrapped bundle into her palm. “Because it isn't a gift for a child.”

With interest clear on her face, Rhaenyra carefully unfolded the layers of silk, revealing the necklace within.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked, watching her intently.

“It’s Valyrian steel,” she said as she ran one fingertip over the intricate pattern of interlocking circles surrounding a deep red gemstone. “Like your sword, Dark Sister.”

“Here, turn around,” Daemon said, taking the necklace from the bundle of silk and motioning for her to turn her back to him. She wasn’t wearing a necklace, he noted, and wondered if perhaps her prophetic dream had included something of this moment, as well. “Now you and I both own a small piece of our ancestry,” he murmured as he clasped the necklace and settled it against the delicate bones of her neck.

Rhaenyra let her long silver-blonde hair swing back into place and turned to face him again. The gem matched the red of her New Year’s gown, and Daemon wondered again about serendipity and prophecy and fate.

“Gevie,” he said softly in High Valyrian, at a loss of anything else to say. Beautiful.

He looked up to find Rhaenyra searching his face with wide, serious eyes. The eyes of a woman grown, not the girl on the cusp of womanhood he’d left behind so many years before. He held her gaze for a long moment, glad that he’d resolved to give her this present in private.

The invisible string around his breastbone that had always drawn him back to her pulled taut, and then Rhaenyra dropped her eyes down to the necklace, her fingers tracing over the surface again.

“In truth, you needn't have brought me any gifts at all,” she said, her voice strong but not ungrateful. In one swift movement, Rhaenyra rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Ñuha irudy bisa jēdarī iksis ao,” she whispered in his ear. My gift this year is you.

[echodior]

*   𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 — 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓 !!   ›  

oh, dear patron, allow me to regale you with a tale of grandeur and mystery surrounding a fabled summer camp for the privileged youth of the elite. 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗣 𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧 is an oasis of opulence that has been the summer haven for generations of affluent and prominent families. it's with a heavy heart that we inform you time has come for the final closure of this iconic establishment after more than a century of indulgence. 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗣 𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧 once stretched for two blissful months of endless frivolity and luxury. the only exception was three decades ago, when midway through the season, campers awoke to an eerie fleet of cars waiting to whisk them away, without explanation. only to later learn of the unspeakable disappearance of a beloved eighteen-year-old counselor, 𝑀𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝐴𝑙𝑖. a hushed murmur of her haunting ghost by the lake spread amongst the campers, transforming her into a legend and mystery to be whispered about. in reverence to the tragedy and loss, the camp remained closed for several years, but time has a way of healing wounds. by 1995, the doors were once again flung open to welcome new faces and eager adventurers. yet, miriam's memory lingered on, shrouded in a veil of enigmatic darkness. now, as 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗣 𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧's 103rd year approaches the camp's owner's has been persuaded by their favorite pair of grandchildren to grant one final summer of extravagance to their former campmates and handful of plus ones before the land is sold off. it shall be a grand reunion, a last hurrah, a time of reminiscence, and a chance to finally lay to rest the ghostly legend of the mysterious 𝑀𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝐴𝑙𝑖.

*   𝐓𝐋𝐃𝐑     ›  

𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗣 𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧 is an upcoming 21+ summer camp / horror discord verse with supernatural elements. the plot will center around twenty former eagles who are reuniting at the camp for one last hurray before it's sold off. only to find themselves wrapped up in solving a very old and very dangerous mystery. dark / mature themes will be heavily incorporated throughout every aspect of the plot so please keep that in mind. due to the multi arc structure i have in mind, this will be a limited run verse. this post serves as an 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞, so if you're interested in this idea please 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧.

[simpjaes]

jungwon being amazed when reader begs to be titty fucked 😇😇 ik jungwon loves boobies, he just gives that vibeeeee

*gasp*

mdni wc: 1.1k tags: they're best friends and jungwon has a staring problem. reader doesn't beg but she definitely encourages it....he fingers her hahahaha……

jungwon, the shyest best friend you've ever had struggling not to stare every single time you wear a shirt that shows the curve of your bust or the cleavage of them.

countless times you've swatted at him, called him a perv, told him to go find a girl to sink into before he makes it weird-- and countless times he hasn't fought you on it.

countless times he's just kept staring. and staring. and nearly drooling.

especially when you sleep over, wearing that fucking tank top. Such huge tits, he shouldn't have been shocked when he woke up and loomed over you, seeing a glimpse of your perky and pretty nipple. Honestly, he's sure that your tits have fallen out of that tank top mid-sleep hundreds of times, at this point you're probably just wearing it so he feels embarrassed for looking, right?

Absolutely right.

Now, weeks after the tit-falling-out-of-your-top incident, you decide to push a little. After all, you love Jungwon with everything in you. It's what any best friend would do...maybe.

"You wanna fuck them?" You ask off handedly, watching as your best friend, once again, won't stop staring.

"Wha-"

"Just kidding," You wave him off, turning on your heel and walking towards his kitchen. You stop short of the entrance though, and turn back to face him. "Unless...?"

It's cute, really, how he basically throws himself back into his bedroom at the mere thought of seeing the head of his cock peek through your tits as he fucks them.

You're not serious though, right? You're just fucking with him again.

Oh, but you're so serious about it. As you walk back into his room with a glass of juice, you make a point to play with the strap on that same tank top.

"You want to." You dead-pan at him, clocking his desires at face value. "And I'd let you."

He watches as you shrug, those same dainty fingers teasing him with the strap of your tank top.

Watching, staring again. Is this why you didn't wear a bra today? Is this why he can practically see how hard your nipples are through that tank? Is this why you turned down his air conditioning?

"Stop fucking with me." Jungwon starts, forcing his eyes away from your tits and trying to look up at your face. "It'll be weird."

"Not any more weird than seeing you stare twenty-four-seven."

Ah, there goes his cheeks. Flushing before reddening at your words. His cock twitches between his legs at the way his mind races through images of doing just that with you.

But...you're his best friend.

"Wonnie, you're thinking too hard about it. See? Look." You chuckle, setting your glass down on his bed-side table and lifting the tank top off of you.

He's in shock when they bounce out, fleshy, heavy. Huge fucking tits. If he's ever stared before, he's only doing it harder now as he rubs his legs together, clenching his ass and pushing his growing cock up and against the inseam of his pants.

You, on the other hand, aren't typically this bold. You've never really been afraid to show your tits but Jungwon is right in worrying about the fact that the two of you are best friends.

The way his mouth falls open though? The way he rubs his legs together? The way you can see his cock twitching?

If anything, he's just a guy who loves some tits, and you happen to have him. It won't be weird....hopefully.

"See?" You repeat your words in a softer tone, feeling more seen than expected. "It's easy."

He slowly nods to you, moving his hand between his legs and pressing his palm down. He releases a seethed moan, eyes squinting as if he's in some sort of pain.

If anything, it's reluctance.

"It'll be s-so fucking weird." He finally manages to stutter out, still pressing his palm against himself, still shifting his eyes between both perked up nipples.

"Not any more weird than watching you practically jerk off to me-" You admit, rubbing your own legs together now at seeing your best friend act so...horny.

After all, yeah, he stares. Yeah, it's cute. But this. Why is he turning you on now?

And those words are really all it takes to have Jungwon standing to his feet and dropping his pants, cock hanging heavy and begging to be slid between your tits.

He's leaking when he does it, gently helping you down to your knees in front of his bed, and there, he sits with his cock in hand, unsure of what to do next.

You chuckle at him, as if the two of you haven't already made it weird. You hold both of your breasts up and rub one of your nipples along his length, collecting the precum until it's dribbling out even more.

His hips press up on instinct, fucking nothing but moaning all the while until you take it upon yourself once again to lean forward and nestle his cock between them.

And he just doesn't stop moaning, hands shooting to the outer cups of your tits and pressing them firmly together before fucking up again, and again, and again. Until he's panting rather than moaning, until his brain spirals into that of wondering how the plush sensation wrapping his cock right now is just as good as having it squeezed by a wet cunt. in other words, it's definitely weird but he also thinks no other pair of tits would feel this good against him. And he makes it a point to prove to you. Proving it by cumming within minutes, spurting his cum all up your neck with trembling hands struggling to hold your tits through it. You're in awe, really, seeing your best friend get off for the first time. It doesn't really pain you to stick your tongue out to catch some of his cum, though it seemed to shock him quite a bit as seeing you do it. And by shock him, you mean it seemed to turn him on more because you thought you'd caught the last of his release. No, oh no no. He kept cumming, repeatedly spurting out more and more up until he's entirely spent and flopping back on his bed.

You're quiet when you stand and hover over him, ignoring the swell of your clit and the thick wet sliding between your legs when you move. "Too weird?" You ask gently, slowly crawling onto the bed with him. He blinks up at you, glowing with his post-nut bliss and shakes his head. "Somehow, no." He smiles. "So...then..." You pause, your own face heating up. "You wouldn't be opposed to...yknow.." He feels you grip his hand and run it down your body, straight down between your legs. What he wasn't expecting was for you to like it enough to get this fucking wet over it. And when he looks at you quirking a brow, it's easy for him to offer you some release. Fingers plunging into you from under your shorts, smiling at you like he always does.

[floralcyanide]

ʙᴏʙʙʏ's ɢɪʀʟ

(joe rantz x fem!reader)

Joe has a major crush on you, but you're Bobby's girl. Or so he thinks.

✣ warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting

✣ word count: 1.4k

✣ author’s note: I wish I had more time to work on this, but I've been busy with work, and a friend has been in town so ): I will definitely post more Joe though. hopefully it'll be better quality lol I just wasn't sure of what to write for Joe specifically so this is sort of a brain dump.

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

Joe Rantz has a major crush on you, but you’re Bobby’s girl- or that’s what he thought. 

The first time Joe sees you is when the team meets Bobby, their new coxswain. You had tagged along as you followed Bobby everywhere he went, as he did you. The two of you were as thick as thieves. It made Joe a little jealous because he thought you were attractive, and Bobby didn’t seem like the type to have a girl on his arm all the time. Don’t get him wrong, Joe respects Bobby. But he seemed more focused on other things rather than dating. Joe watched you that whole day when his attention wasn’t on rowing. As the weeks of practice continued, the more the boys got to know you. Plus, the more they improved, the more you cheered them on. You took pride in getting the boys in the boat to do better than before. And the more you pushed them from the dock, much like Bobby did in his seat, the more they showed out for you, especially Joe. Joe would catch you smiling at him, and he’d smile back but would quickly recover. You’re Bobby’s girl.

After the team’s first win, you’re glued to Bobby’s side at the celebratory party. Joe tries to keep his eyes off you and your stunning outfit but fails most of the night. At one point, you separate from Bobby to converse with Don and Chuck for a little while. Then, you find Joe, who is tucked away in the back of the gymnasium. He quickly looked away from you, not to give himself away.

“Enjoying the party?” you ask, nursing your punch glass.

“Not really my scene,” Joe shrugs.

“Oh,” you nod, “What is your scene, then?”

“The library, usually. Or the boat, of course.”

“I’d say so. You’re great at rowing. I love watching you all.”

Joe blushes at that, “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Bobby pulls the needle off the record player on stage, forcibly introducing Don as the live music for the night. You and Joe watch, amused, as the boys shove Don across the stage and to the piano bench. Don dug his heels into the stage floor the best he could, to no avail. He nervously looks out at the crowd before beginning to play. 

“Wanna dance?” you ask Joe.

He hesitates for a moment before answering, “Sure.”

The two of you dance along to the music, singing along as well. Joe tries not to let himself get too deep in his head about how close you are to him. You sense this, trying not to get too handsy despite your inner desire to. You leave room between the two of you for it to be casual. When the song ends, you kiss Joe on the cheek and go to find Bobby. Joe’s cheek burns the rest of the night as he reaches up to brush his fingers across it a few times. He wanted to make sure what had happened was real.

Bobby encourages you to tag along with the team to the East Coast. This race was significant for the boys and would throw them off if you weren’t there. Bobby especially- Joe even more. On the train there, you sit with Bobby. You’re mid-conversation about the paper he’s reading when suddenly, Joe lunges at Chuck. You hurry to stand from your seat and pull them apart, following Joe to the other side of the train when he hurries away from the group.

You stand there momentarily as Joe catches his breath, his face beet red.

“What was that all about?”

Joe brushes you off, not making eye contact. You sigh and sit next to him.

“Chuck probably didn’t mean it like that, Joe,” you put a hand on his shoulder, “Even if he did, you know his jokes are shit anyway.”

Joe cracks a smile at that, glancing over at you without moving his head, “Yeah.”

Before you can say anything else, Chuck comes to apologize, and you get up and leave them to it. When you return to your seat, Bobby is smirking knowingly.

“What?” you ask, already knowing what’s gonna come out of his mouth.

“Nothing,” Bobby says, returning his eyes to the paper he was still reading.

“Just say it,” you sigh.

“You guys should kiss already.”

You snort, “I don’t think Joe likes me like that, Bobby.”

“It’s so obvious,” Bobby slams his paper down on his lap, “He’s so obvious, you’re so obvious. Just get together!”

But of course, it’s not that easy. Joe keeps his distance, so you keep yours out of respect for him. 

Securing the win to head to the Olympics meant preparing to go to Berlin. So, training and practice is never-ending. The stress is, too, and it bleeds into you and Bobby’s usually chill dynamic.

Everyone had already left the gymnasium except Joe one day after strenuous practice. He decided to piddle around for a little while. He had nowhere else to be, anyway. Joe sees you and Bobby getting into it by the boat and hangs back to eavesdrop.

“You have got to get your head in the game, Bobby! Stop worrying about everything else and keep your focus on the team.”

“It’s kind of hard when he’s making mistakes because he can’t stop thinking about you. It’s becoming a problem, and I think you need to fix it.”

Joe’s ears perk up at that. He couldn’t possibly be talking about him, right? That’s when you shove Bobby into the water. You wish he’d realize it isn’t that easy to solve.

Bobby resurfaces, pushing his hair from his eyes, “You bitch!” he squeaks in shock.

You start laughing like a maniac at his expression, and Joe is left wondering what is really going on between you and Bobby.

“What’s going on here?” Joe steps out, walks to the dock, and offers Bobby a hand from the water.

“Typical sibling banter,” you wave Joe off.

“Sibling?”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m Bobby’s adopted sister.”

Joe’s face is one of shock. Bobby is behind the blonde, keeping him from throwing you into the water next. 

“Makes sense now,” Joe chuckles, blocking Bobby, “If I were you, I’d skedaddle.”

You make a run for the gymnasium quickly, Bobby trailing just a little behind. Joe shakes his head, relieved that you aren't Bobby’s girl. From then on, he paid more attention during practice now that he wasn’t plagued with thoughts of you and Bobby together.

The Olympics come quickly, and you’re nearly as nervous as Bobby. Berlin is an interesting sight, considering every surface is covered in Nazi propaganda. You can sense Bobby’s nervousness about it and try your best to ease him. Being someone of Jewish descent in a place like this was not easy. Don isn’t doing too well health-wise when you all arrive and skips out on the opening ceremony. You watch the USA walk with pride from the stands, your eyes on Joe the whole time.

You’re a ball of nerves during the qualifying race, but of course, that goes away when Bobby pulls his magic stunt, and the boys win yet again, making an Olympic record.  You’re beyond proud and can’t wait for how they compete for Gold.

The day comes for the final race, and when Bobby starts off delayed, your heart jumps out of your body. You’re on pins and needles the whole time, urging the boys to push. When the results of who won aren’t immediately apparent, you hold your breath and hope and pray, even, that your boys won. And sure enough, the USA takes the gold. You shoot up from your seat, cheering louder than anyone else around. When you finally are able to meet up with the team, you slam into Bobby full force in a bone-crushing hug.

When you pull away, Joe immediately approaches you and wraps his arms around you. 

“You did it!” you grin. 

“We did it,” Joe smiles, “But we couldn’t have done it without you and Bobby.”

You and Joe stare at each other momentarily, and Joe seems to be deep in thought about something. 

“Just kiss me, Joe,” you blurt, your arms still around his neck.

Joe throws caution to the wind and kisses you in front of the whole world, finally able to breathe with you pressed against him. The boys cheer, and Bobby stands there with his arms crossed, shaking his head with a smile. Finally, you have taken your leap of faith. But you were a stubborn Moch, after all.

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer

Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch. 

It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin. 

The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day. 

No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.

You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight. 

But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late. 

Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today. 

Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment. 

A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape. 

Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?

So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?

Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.

But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media. 

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.

Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall. 

Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.

Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.

An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice. 

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”

He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.

Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway. 

With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.

Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here? 

But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”

The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.

The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?

“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”

Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.

“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”

“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”

He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”

Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”

You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.

A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.

Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.

“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”

“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.

The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”

Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.

“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.” 

You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.

“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.

His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did. 

“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”

You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing. 

“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title  all by yourself.” 

That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off. 

“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”

His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“No it's–it's fine,” you replied. 

He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him. 

Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously. 

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand. 

You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.

“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”

His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked. 

“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”

The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”

Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”

“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”

A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out. 

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded. 

The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing. 

“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice. 

“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.

“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”

The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.

“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”

A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him. 

“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.

“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”

“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”

You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down. 

But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing. 

“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow. 

Strange.

“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.

A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again. 

“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”

You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?” 

“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”

Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back. 

“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–

“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.” 

A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.

Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too? 

Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.

“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”

“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”

He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.

“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.

“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.

Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.

“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”

Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.

“You’re cold.”

For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”

“You say that like I was out there naked.”

His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches. 

You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again. 

“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.

With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?

And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.

Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.

“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”

“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.

“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”

The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.

“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.” 

You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.

“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”

“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.

Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.

“Alright, point taken,” he replied. 

Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.

“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”

He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.

“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”

Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know? 

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”

“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”

You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured you.

It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap. 

“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”

“You’re freezing,” he countered. 

“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.

You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.

“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”

He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.

“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”

The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.

“Share?” you asked.

“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”

“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”

His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut. 

“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”

“No!” you exclaimed.

Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.

“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”

Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.

“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”

An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.

“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.

“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”

Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”

“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”

He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.

“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned. 

“I'm not tense!” you lied.

He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment. 

“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”

Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh. 

“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”

“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.

“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”

Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course. 

With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.

Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?

But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?

Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”

But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit. 

But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.

Stupid stupid stupid.

[janmisali]

making an alternate version of this poll as a dedicated post so it shows up in tags, so hopefully it'll reach more people who have an actual opinion this time

[one-piece-aus]

Hi there! I’m glad you’re still doing Whumptober, so I’m here again to get my annual dose. (hope you’re doing good too!)

May I ask for Day 23 & Trafalgar Law? I’ll leave it up to you if you’d prefer to write it yandere or not. Thanks in advance and may you have a lot of fun with this year’s prompts! 💙🌹

Of course! My apologies for the delay Michelle, and I do hope you enjoy the story ^-^

Whumptober Day 23

Yandere Trafalgar Law x Reader

"Father's a fool if he thinks I'm going to marry," you mutter under your breath as you tread carefully through the woods. Holding up the lantern, your path can be seen even in the dark of the night. "Hopefully I can get far enough so they can't find me when they notice I'm missing in the morning."

"So who can't find you?"

"AH!" You jump, startled by the male voice. You wave your lantern, trying to find the source. "Who's there?"

Blast, here you were fleeing through the woods in the middle of the night, escaping the arranged marriage your family set up for you, and someone already discovered you. Dread weighed your thoughts of being dragged back home. Frustration clenched your jaw.

"Show yourself!" If you were going to be taken back, you'd at least like to know who to resent.

"I'm right here, [Y/n]-ya." The male's voice purrs right in your ear.

You flinch, turning around and raising the lantern, highlighting the ravenet man. Silver and gold eyes shine as they peer down at you. Stepping back to properly gander at the tall man, you notice the strange circular golden earrings and the carefully trimmed & small beard (goatee).

"Wait... you're the doctor by the outskirts of the town."

"Dr. Trafalgar." He bowed in greeting. "Though I've been your family's doctor for a long time now, you may call me Law."

"Law... right," you said averting your eyes and moving the lantern away from your face so he doesn't see the blush forming around your cheeks. Oh, how you wish your heart didn't flutter so much when looking at his face.

"What are you doing out here at night?"

"I- I was just about to ask you the same," you said, unsure if he was here because of your family.

"Me? I'm just out here collecting a few herbs. A few... patients of mine have gotten sick. I need to cure them from everything."

"O-oh... I see." You wanted to question further, like 'Why would he collect herbs at night?'  Alas, you held in your tongue in hopes he would do the same. "I'm- I'm running away. I need to get far enough or else it's gonna get me by the end of the night."

Law hummed in a tone that sounded pleased, perhaps your ears are playing tricks on you. He places a hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you. "If you need a place to stay, [Y/n]-ya, I have a place suited to your needs."

"...You won't tell my family will you?"

"Not to worry, [Y/n]-ya. It'll be doctor-patient confidentiality."

And just like that, you're in his arms, thanking him. He places the herbs he collected into his bag and begins escorting you away to his place. You're not aware the herbs he was collecting were nightshade, unaware of the plague doctor mask he has at his hip, and unaware you made his job of taking you all too easy.

His darling won't have to worry about being found, by tomorrow, there will be no one looking for his darling.

Tags: @bookandyarndragon

[claudemblems]

Cat's Out of the Bag | Moriarty the Patriot

Summary: It looks like you've been rudely interrupted mid kiss with your (secret) lover. Suffice to say the situation is quite awkward...

Content: SFW. Sherlock being Sherlock. Jokes about some characters reading too much into the situation but there is no mature content going on. Please don't tag this as anything but SFW!

Characters: Sherlock, Louis, John

Notes: Let me kiss them on the foreheads please 🥺

Sherlock Holmes

Well, this is certainly surprising. Mycroft didn't suspect that his routine "wellness check" (code for his surprise paintball gun fights) would end up with him walking on his brother sharing kisses with a lady

(He was sure he told him to beware of women once...)

And really, in the living room of the flat for anyone to walk in on! It was as if Sherlock would show no shame in being caught (true)

But...Mycroft didn't remember any woman catching his little brother's eye. It seems that this was a well-kept secret indeed

"Sherly, if you are going to show your affections to a woman, there are appropriate places to do so. Out in the middle of the sitting room with the door unlocked is not one of them."

"What do you want?" Sherlock hissed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Why do you always have to show up at the most inopportune times?!"

"Because I care for you, Sherly," Mycroft answered with a smile. Then his gaze drifted over to you, your cheeks growing pink. "My apologies for not properly introducing myself. You may call me Mycroft. I am Sherly’s elder brother."

"No one asked, now get out," Sherlock huffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "You've spoiled the mood."

"Why didn't you inform me that you had a lover? You'll be needing all the advice I can spare if this relationship is to be maintained. Besides, do you even know basic biology?" Mycroft sighed, shaking his head. "You have a terrible habit of only absorbing information that interests you. It's to be assumed that you have no inclination of the topic of se–"

"All right, that's enough!" Sherlock exclaimed, leaping out of his seat and pushing his brother towards the door. "Please, my dear, darling older brother, do not come back without an invitation. Bye!"

And before Mycroft could formulate a witty response, the door was promptly shut in his face, locked with a key for good measure.

"...Sherlock?"

"Don't mind him. He's always this irritating." Sherlock huffed, returning to his spot beside you on the sofa. "I'm sorry if his visit resulted in embarrassment for you. Now you can imagine what I have to go through on a regular basis."

"Pesky older brothers," you laughed. "I suppose it's fortunate I don't have one of my own."

"Truly. If you did, I have a feeling that they'd be grilling me on my reasons for courting you. I don't need any more sibling drama than I have now."

"Well, at least he's gone now, right?"

"And hopefully he won't be back for a long while."

"I'm guessing his display just now is the reason you didn't tell him that we're together?"

"Precisely. Now, I'm afraid we'll have to be careful about him barging in again. He can be quite stubborn in that regard."

"It'll be alright," you said, placing your hand atop Sherlock's. "At least now we know what to expect."

"Well, next time he can 'expect' the nearest object being tossed at his head."

Even Sherlock gets so embarrassed you thought, smiling when you noticed the red tips of his ears. 

“You’re blushing,” you said, unable to resist the urge to tease him. It wasn’t often Sherlock got so flustered, after all.

“I am not.”

“You do realize that you scratch the back of your neck when you’re lying, right?”

Sherlock tsked, playfully rolling his eyes before pulling you into his arms. “You’ve picked up on too many of my tactics. You’ll pay for this!” Your laughter echoed throughout the flat as Sherlock tickled you mercilessly until you confessed to your ‘crime’.

However, a few kisses of recompense bribed your way out of a guilty sentence. Maybe that favoritism made Sherlock guilty, too, but he wasn’t opposed to the two of you being partners in crime. 

Louis Moriarty

Well, well, well. Who knew sweet and innocent Louis would be caught with lipstick stains on his face?

Moran knew he shouldn't be so delighted at the sight in front of him, but it was almost like...he was seeing a little brother become a man

Besides, Moran didn't count on any of the brothers having a secret relationship. To say this was a surprise was an understatement. Perhaps the others would like to know…

"Sorry, Louis. Was I interrupting something?" Sebastian asked, unable to hide his toothy grin.

"Just what on earth are you doing entering the room without knocking?!!" Louis' glasses weren't enough to hide the blush creeping on his face which grew more and more noticeable by the minute.

"Didn't think you'd be so busy," Moran replied, wriggling an eyebrow. "The evidence of the crime is all over you."

"There was nothing indecent going on here!" Louis his face in his hands, internally plotting a million ways to get rid of Moran without arousing suspicion.

"You shouldn't have to say so if that were the case."

"Moran!!!"

"Okay you two, calm down, all right?" you sighed, trying to salvage the last bit of decency between you and Louis. "If Moran came in here, he probably needs something from us. What can we help you with?”

"Well, I was just dropping by to say that the last mission we discussed is still on. William's already moving forward with the plan. However, if you also need me to get the manor empty for a while, let me know. I can pull a few strings."

"Whenever you speak with William again,” you said through gritted teeth, “can you ask him to teach me how to get away with murder?"

"Oh, that's quite a specific request. Care to elaborate?"

"I'll elaborate when I put you six feet below the ground, Sebastian."

Moran put his hands up in the air in surrender, though the grin never left his face. "I was just joking around. Besides, if Louis gets this embarrassed just kissing you, there's no way he'd be able to–"

Moran jumped as a knife whizzed past him and embedded itself into the wall.

"If you get so caught off guard just by running your mouth, there's no way you'd be prepared for a surprise attack by an enemy."

"Aaand would you look at that, it's half past tea time! Better go help the others with the details of the plan."

You didn't think you'd ever seen Moran run out of a room so quickly.

"Louis, please don't threaten him. I know he's an idiot sometimes but..."

"Nevermind him. Shall we continue where we left off?"

You blinked, taken aback by Louis' sudden boldness. "O-Oh. You...want another kiss?"

Louis' lips turned upwards in a wicked grin. "Put them where your lipstick will be visible. I want Moran to remember how he barely escaped this situation with his life."

John Watson

Oh, uh…huh. Sherlock didn’t think twice about bursting into his dear friend’s room to excitedly inform him of the success of his new experiment and ended up…well…seeing John mid kiss with a woman he’d never met before

He couldn’t help but stare slack-jawed, completely oblivious to the mortified expressions of his companion and “friend”

But Sherlock had seen far stranger things, so he was able to quickly regain his composure and snap back to his usual self

“John, you should have told me you were going to have a lady friend over! I would have made sure to stay out of the flat for a while.”

“N-No,” John stammered, his tanned face flushing, “I wouldn’t make you leave so that…I…”

“It’s quite all right to want some privacy! Kissing someone is a very intimate affair after all, and I’m not about to ruin my dear Watson’s chances at romance!”

“I–”

“So, whaddya think of John?” Sherlock asked you with a wink. “He’s quite the catch, isn’t he?”

“Sherlock! I thought you just said you were going to give us some privacy…”

“Oh, I agree,” you replied, leaving John and Sherlock wide-eyed at your honest confession. “To be honest, I didn’t expect John to be so…good at his craft.” You winked back at Sherlock, the two of you exchanging smiles. It seems you were already well on your way to gaining the detective’s approval.

“[Name]!” John cried, burying his face in your shoulder. “Don’t start teasing me, too.”

“But you’re so cute when your face turns all red~” you laughed, lifting up his chin with a finger. “Besides, I can tell you like the fact that I take the lead in this relationship.”

Poor John was going to end up as red as a tomato if you and Sherlock kept on like this.

“Well, I’ll be going now. I’ll return in a couple of hours–got some detective work to do and all. Enjoy your kissing. Goodbye!”

As soon as the door clicked shut, John breathed out a ragged sigh. “I was not expecting all this attention today.”

“Shy are we?”

“Please, I don’t know how much more my poor heart can take.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around John’s neck. “I’m sorry. You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

John pouted his lips, pulling you in closer by your waist. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that.”

“Then say it.”

John’s eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes, silently asking for your permission. You answered his question with a nod and smile, and soon enough, his lips were back on yours, bringing you to a state of unending bliss, whispering sweet nothings reserved just for you.

“Yes,” he said against your lips, unable to hide his smile, “you are quite adorable, darling.”

[grievedeeply]

Hi I hope your day has been well! I’m so excited one of my favorite writers is writing for atsv!! May I request a Hobie x gn!reader headcanons where the reader is super crafty (ex. crochets, sews, or other creative stuff) I thought the idea was super cute especially if they crocheted a little spiderpunk plushie for him! —spidernonnie

favorite writers 🥺🥺 it means the world to hear that even after my inactivity. thank you for the request and the kind words!! i really hope you enjoy even if it's short! i decided to make these romantic, so hopefully that's alright! :) and let me know if you want to be tagged for my spiderverse works in my inbox!

gn!reader | no tws!

hobie brown with a crafty s/o headcanons

your biggest fan, no doubt about it. even if you don't show anyone your latest projects or works in progress, hobie is right by your side cheering you on

he wants you to feel loved, so he compliments your work whenever you decide to show him what you'd been finishing up

if you make him a spiderpunk plushie, he keeps it in his room where it's visible to him all the time. he adores it and you, so it has to be kept somewhere where it'll be safe

your interests don't really align, but hobie does not care. he'd even learn to sew or crochet a little bit from you even if it's incredibly out of character for him to do it

just imagine he gets a rip in his jeans or something and he sews it back up, thinking about you the entire time he does it

probably encourages you to make an etsy shop. you're talented and the world deserves to see it! he's all for supporting you no matter what you decide to do though

your biggest supporter just in general. he loves you, he cares for you, and he's really big on expressing it so he's constantly telling you how talented you are

he'll ask about how you got into your hobbies and listens super intently, keeping eye contact the entire time. he just wants you to know he appreciates you

this dude.... definitely brags to other people about you and your talents. he's SO proud of you and he makes it super obvious to other people

he's lucky to have you in his life at all. and you make him clothes? you make stuff specifically for him? he's head over heels. he's a sucker for homemade anything, but if it comes from you.. 😮‍💨

overall, the sweetest and most supportive person to have by your side!

[agi-ppangx]

💭when you find out you're pregnant with minho

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

word count: 622

tags: non!idol au, estabilished relationship, fluff

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mention of pee (it's nothing weird i promise, the reader is just taking a pregnancy test), a bit of crying, being scared of whatever is gonna come in the future, happy ending

author's note: hii guys, i hope youre having a nice day/night ‹3 today i offer you a soft minho drabble, hopefully you will like it !! totally not proofread lol anyway, feedback and reblogs highly appreciated 🫶🏽

part two | part three

minho returned home with a bag full of pregnancy tests and placed them on a counter in the kitchen. you got up from the kitchen chair to grab them and rushed to the bathroom. "you want me to go there with you, baby?" minho asked quietly, sensing your nervousness. "min, baby, i love you, but i don't want you to see me when i pee on a plastic stick," you responded, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the room. minho chuckled at your words. "fine, i'll be here by the door in case you need me." you nodded and entered the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

when you woke up in the morning, you felt that it was the day you should finally tell minho that your period was late. you were stressed for the past two months, you thought it was maybe because you were overworking yourself and it just caused your period not to show. you tried to relax for the past few weeks, but at this point you knew it wasn't just because you were overworked. you told him and his first impulse was to hug you and then go to the store for pregnancy tests. he seemed calm, like it wasn't a big deal. but inside, minho was terrified. you two didn't plan to start a family right now, you talked about it sometimes, but in your imagination it was supposed to happen much later. but apparently life wanted to surprise both of you.

when you finished and placed all three tests on the sink, you set a timer, then unlocked the door and quietly called minho. you sat by the bathtub, legs placed by your chest. your breathing was uneven, short, shallow breaths escaping your lungs. minho sat next to you, hugging you tightly and rubbing circles on your back with his hand. "how long do we have to wait?" he whispered. "around 15 minutes," you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. minho hummed to let you know he heard you and placed a soft kiss on your head. "what are we gonna do if i'm pregnant?" you asked suddenly, looking him in the eyes. you didn't cry, but minho could see you were scared. he thought about it for a while and then responded "if you are pregnant, everything's gonna be fine. i'll support you, whether you wanna keep it or not. but either way it'll be okay baby, i love you and i'm sure we can deal with it," minho said, his words causing you to tear up a little bit. you exhaled shakily, your eyes now focused on your hands fiddling with minho's hoodie. it was when the timer went out, signalling both of you that 15 minutes passed. you looked into each others' eyes at the same time. "you ready?" minho asked you and you nodded. he helped you get up and together you went to the sink to check the results. all three tests were positive. "i'm pregnant…" you whispered, tears starting to fall down your cheeks. minho hugged you once again, rocking you gently in his arms. when you calmed down a bit, you looked up at him and smiled. it was when minho teared up as well. "you're going to be a dad, baby," you whispered and kissed him deeply and slowly. when you pulled out, minho placed one more kiss on your nose. "does it mean you're gonna keep it?" he then asked, still quite unsure what you're planning on doing. you hesitated, but then whispered quietly "yeah". were you ready for parenthood? of course no. you were terrified, worried and nervous. but with minho by your side you knew it's gonna be okay.

[athanza]

Starlett - Final part

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, romance, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

2077

That night, after dinner, Irene found Cooper on the sofa with Janey asleep on his lap, watching an old noire film with the volume down low.

"Thank you very much for dinner Mr. H- Cooper." She corrected herself, speaking low so as not to wake Janey. "It was lovely."

He looked up as she walked over. "It was no trouble at all. Janey loved having you here."

She smiled at his daughters sleeping face as she sat down on the edge of the sofa. "You've got a good kid there."

He looked down at her proudly. "Yeah, I sure do."

"She reminds me of my baby sister, she lives with my folks in Sacramento. I don't get to see her much anymore with my work and everything with Frank and Lee. It'll be good to see her again."

"How long has it been?"

"Almost 2 years. I know my sister resents me for how much I'm away, but hopefully that'll change now that I'll be away from Frank, at least until the divorce proceedings." She sighed with uneasiness.

"You'll be fine." Said Cooper encouragingly. "You're stronger than you think."

"Ditto." She smiled warmly. "And don't worry about Janey, you both love her so much. She'll understand when she's older, I promise."

He smiled, touched by her words. "Thank you."

She looked into his eyes and saw something she never had, a good man, a man who loves unconditionally and stands up for his family.

She, just for a moment, imagined what it would be like if he was her husband instead of Frank, if Janey were their daughter, if this was her life and not the daily abuse she had been going home to every night.

She could feel emotions begin to well behind her eyes and she snapped out of it before she embarrassed herself.

"Well, I should get some sleep, I'll be leaving early tomorrow. Thank you again."

The warmness that emanated from her was a welcome comfort in the midst of everything that had happened in the last few months. He almost didn't want her to leave, but he couldn't let himself fall, not now, not for her. They were meant for another time, another world, not this one.

"Irene?" Said Cooper, stopping her before she left. "This whole thing with Vault Tec...something's happening, something I'm not sure we'll ever come back from.

You're free from it now. Whatever's coming...it won't be worth giving up your happiness."

What he said about Vault Tec concerned her, not that it was surprising, but he was right about her happiness, he was right about everything. She wasn't going to be held back any longer.

"Thank you." She said, smiling softly.

2296

The sky was still dark when he left the cave. He'd covered Irene with whatever he could find to try to conceal her from raiders, hoping nothing else would find her while he was gone.

He knew there was a clinic in this area somewhere but whether it had anything left in it was a gamble.

As he made his way hastily through the area, he couldn't stop thinking about her and it just made him angry, 219 years of trying to become the monster that he had to be in order to survive, only for her to show up and remind him of that warmth that he'd long since forgotten. It made him weak, but he couldn't let her die, not now.

He heard movement up ahead, two men laughing drunkenly as they stumbled to find somewhere to relieve themselves.

Raiders.

The cages and skewered bodies around the building were a dead give-away and their little base just happened to be the clinic he was looking for.

Jackpot. They definitely had a stash in there somewhere.

The two men separated to find somewhere to piss but just as one got comfortable, Cooper blast his head off and took the other one out just a split second later.

"Oh HELL no!" Came a voice from the doorway of the clinic.

Without hesitation, Cooper shot him too, a bloody mess left on the door frame behind where he had been standing.

He stormed inside, his pump-action shotgun in hand, willing to use up all of his ammo to get what he needed.

Bullets and wood chips were flying every which way, and he took a bullet or two, but it took him no time at all to obliterate every person in that building.

He searched hastily for supplies, and when he found a first aid box full of stimpaks and cotton thread, he grabbed it and left, picking up several blood packs on his way out.

2077

The next morning, Irene was up early, her bag already in her car when Cooper came out to meet her.

"You weren't kiddin' about leavin' early." He said, the clock in the hallway reading 7:12am.

"I thought it'd be best if I left earlier rather than later."

He knew why. He didn't argue.

"Give this to Janey for me, would you? I noticed she liked it and I know it'll be in good hands."

She handed Cooper a silver locket with a daisy engraved delicately on the front.

He looked at it a bit surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't much care for it anymore. It'll be more appreciated with her." She smiled.

She did one last check of her purse to make sure she had everything and the tention in the air was starting to thicken. When she knew she had everything, she looked back up at him.

"Cooper?" She asked. "Do me a favour and don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak, always remember that, ok?"

She leant forward and kissed his cheek. "See you 'round cowboy."

She smiled at him one last time before getting in her car, and as he watched her drive away he felt his heart ache a little. He would miss her, her warm smiles, and how she made Janey laugh, but it wasn't meant to be, and he knew that.

2296

He pulled off the foliage covering her now pale body and opened the case.

Her breathing was shallow and laboured, a puddle of blood underneath her that had started to coagulate.

He used one of the stimpaks, then another, then another until he had used all six, then pulled out the thread and started sewing up the deep gashes on her side that were sticky with blood.

He remembered the last time he saw her, her smile, the kiss. He remembered watching her drive away and wishing she hadn't. He remembered the last things she said to him.

"...don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak..."

When he finished sewing, he hung up one of the blood bags and attached the long tube to her arm.

He was still and focused, hoping he wasn't too late, his hands now covered in her blood.

When she woke up after only a few minutes, she saw him sitting by the fire beside her and smiled sleepily.

"Hey there cowboy."

The End

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (04x11)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 11: Good While It Lasted

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: a little breakdown, a little surprise

Word Count: I'm tired as fuck. But I like my cozy bed.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

A shuffle is heard off-screen before a familiar figure comes to sit in front of the camera Loki: *adjusting himself in the seat* *finally gets comfortable* *looks at the camera* *sighs* Footage cuts to the same recording room but this time it is you in a familiar white shirt over a tank top and booty shorts You: Hey Javi *sits down* Long time no see *smiles at the camera* ~ Loki: Uhhh *scratches his chin* I was not expecting to see Y/N on the mission. I mean, none of us were. But *raises his brows while looking at infinity* there she was *camera takes the liberty to focus on Loki's pale hands before panning in to show them pressing and scratching each other* ~ You: *licks lips* yeah I knew the boys would be there.  I just could not fathom that *raise your hands to point at nothing, in particular, next to you* all the boys would be there. *takes in a long breath* *camera zooms in on your face* You: *nod* *in a whisper* I was not expecting Loki to be there *scratches an itch on your neck* ~ Loki: She looks *adjusts the zero prescription glasses he is wearing* fine. *nods* she looks good. ~ You:  *chuckle* *scratch an itch on the back of your neck* *silence*…he looks well. *blink* The tattoos look nice. ~ Loki: uhh…*adjusts himself in the seat* yup that’s pretty much it *adjusts his glasses again* hopefully she doesn’t get into any trouble *chuckles* *camera zooms onto his busy hands again*

  The Teflon Mansion: Leo's Office The security guy was using every last ounce of his strength to choke the life out of you. Sam, at the other end of the hacked CCTVs, was perspiring in the worst possible sense. "WHERE THE HECK IS EVERYBODY?!!" A figure threw itself on the guard as if on cue, knocking him off you. You turned on your side, wheezing for air before turning to see Loki punching the lights out of the guard. Loki never bothered checking if the guard would get up. Instead, he turned to you. "You okay?" You nodded. "We need to get those prints out." You stopped Loki short in his steps towards you, diverting his attention towards the glass case of blueprints. "Right," the God replied. You got up with the support of the desk. All the while Loki had his eyes on you. "Do you think it'll break if we throw it down from this floor?" Loki furrowed his brows for a second. "We need to keep the prints intact." "Oh," you nodded and shrugged. "Had to ask," you whispered before taking a little laser keychain out of your pocket and raising it to eye level. "That's not a laser laser," Natasha's voice crackled through the earpieces. "Then why do I have it?" You fumed. You stepped away from the desk only to feel like you lost your footing, your body wobbling while your hands looked for support. Loki was quick to grab one of your hands while his other hand went to your upper back to help you stand straight. "Easy. Easy," he announced softly. "Your brain is trying to adjust to the scare it just got. Take long breaths. In......out.....that's right. One more time."

On the other end of the camera, Sam and Natasha inhaled along with Loki's words.  "And out." Both of them let out a lungful of air before the former opened his comms to the other channel. "What is taking you guys so long?" "Oh shut it, Wilson. It is hard running on cement tiles in these godforsaken sandals and fucking tight shorts. "The shorts are not tight, you just have a big butt!" Peter chimed from behind. Natasha switched the cameras on the side screen and watched Scott, Peter and Javi running parallel to the garden porch before reaching the poolside. "Okay, what's our exit strategy?" Scott asked the guys in the chair. "You still don't have the prints," Sam stressed, running his hands over his face. Scott looked at Javi's necklace spy cam with all shades of exhaustion.

Scott: *angry* What have Loki and Y/N been doing all this time? *closes his lips* *blinks* *furrows his brows* *softly* What have Loki and Y/N been doing all this time?

"I'm good. I'm good," you announced before you and Loki awkwardly shifted positions, standing a considerable distance away from each other, unsure how to proceed. "Should we-" you tapped the glass case, not sure why you did that- "take this whole thing with us?" "Take what?!" A familiar voice walked in from the door, making you and Loki take a step back. Leo witnessed his security lying unconscious while Loki and you stood on either side of his desk with the glass container out in the open. He stood there for one stretched moment before breaking into a chuckle. "God, all this time I thought you were just a baddie who was into torture kink. But you were playing me to get to this." You stood there mum, not sure how to respond to that sentence. "And was this beautiful dude in on this?" Loki was about to break into a smile but Leo drew out a gun from behind him. "Leo, drop that," you commanded him, "be a good boy and drop it. Now." Loki looked at you in confusion. So did Sam. "F***! Don't do that to me. You know I love it when you dominate me like that." Leo's voice broke. Loki did not know whether to judge the manchild or you. Both looked at each other before eyeing the glass case. Loki turned his head further to look at the French glass window behind the desk. You followed his gaze and nodded. "But I'm sorry, baby girl-" Leo raised his gun and switched off the safety before pointing it directly at you, "-nothing's more precious than daddy's money." "NOW!" Loki screamed as he picked up the case and threw it at the window, letting the strengthened glass shatter the window to make way for you to jump. Loki followed behind you.

Down on the ground, the boys heard the glass shatter. Javier's camera recorded a glass case coming down towards the pool before disappearing into a void. Then came you. And then Loki. Loki grabbed you midair, letting his back hit the water first. Peter grabbed the floaties by the pool and threw them towards the splash point. "Boys, your ride is here," Natasha declared. "There's a back gate by the pool hedge. Go. go. go." Javi and Scott grabbed your arms while Loki raised you up to help you out of the pool. Peter, meanwhile, shot a web at the shattered window, stopping Leo and his guards from raising an alarm regarding the trespasser's location.

.

Twenty Minutes Later A piece of cloth wiped the lens before Javi's content face came into focus. The camera turned around to the group sitting around a table in a booth inside a dimly lit restaurant. There were barely any customers during the midnight hour. The waitress came up with the coffee jug but no one dared have any. "Do you have a cheeseburger?" Scott asked the waitress while the camera focused on you coming out of the washroom and Loki getting up to make room for you to sit. "Here," the God offered you the shirt he was wearing, making the camera focus on the split-second stare your eyes shared with the lens before you and the camera looked at the bare shoulders in that white tank top. "Thanks." You wore the shirt as soon as you got it, scooching towards the bay of the booth and looking out at the quiet night. "Great," Scott chimed before turning towards everyone else, "what will you guys have?" "Wait," the camera turned away to look at the bewildered waitress staring at Scott, "all that food was just for you?" .

One Hour Later The camera recorded you wrapping your arms around yourself at a distance outside the restaurant, watching a couple of teenagers walk down the road while doing a TikTok dance. "Tea?" The camera panned in on Loki offering you a takeaway cup while keeping one for himself. You took the cup and leaned over the lone motorcycle standing in the parking in front of the restaurant. Loki stands there too, his hands messing with the instrument cluster of the motorcycle. "Nice tattoos," Loki subtly pointed at your arms. "They are temporary," you acknowledged, "I was just experimenting with the persona for the mission." "Oh," Loki nodded, raising the cup to his lips and smiling. "Uh, so are mine." The camera turned to watch Scott and Peter come out of the restaurant arguing. Peter stopped right by the door and slapped Scott in the chest. The Ant Man let out a tiny ow before slapping Peter in the chest. Peter’s irritated face whipped towards Scott and pointed at you and Loki before slapping his arm his time. Scott let out a muted gasp before taking Peter’s arm and slowly moving away- and out of the frame.

"You look like you've lost weight," you wondered out loud, making Loki look down at himself. "Me? I think you are the one who has lost weight," Loki quipped. You looked down at your stomach. "Well, that's not a good thing. I like my chubby body." Loki nodded in affirmation, taking another sip of his tea.

There was a ten-second moment of silence. “Are they talking?” The camera jumped and wobbled before turning to Scott and Petter crawling next to it from inside the bushes.

Javi: *signs* we were right across the road from Loki and Y/N. *stares into a camera and shakes his head*

“So they’re finally taking you on missions.” You broke the silence and gulped the last bit of the tea before tossing the biodegradable cup into the bin. “Surprisingly, yes.” Loki nodded. “Though Barton stares at me without blinking the entire ride.” You snorted before letting out a giggle. Loki turned to look at you and the camera panned in on his face to record the soft smile eroding on his lips. "Yeah, I can imagine that quite clearly," you chimed.

The camera could hear Scott’s whine from outside the frame while Peter tried to shush him.

"Maybe-" you shrugged and raised your hands in front of your chest in contemplation- "Barton likes you. And he's obsessed with you." The camera panned in on Loki just as the tea went down the wrong way and the God ended up coughing his lungs out. "By the Norns!" He tried to wipe the spilt beverage off his face. "If this is his obsession I wonder what he'll do when he finally falls in love with me."

You chuckled. Loki joined you. The camera turned away from the two of you for a moment to watch Peter and Scott squatting beside Javi with their face in their palms; smiling till their eyes closed.

Turning back to get you two in the frame, the lens caught a taxi coming and stopping in front of you two. "Wanda is going to love your take w-" "My ride's here," you announced, cutting Loki short, catching the God- as well as the eavesdroppers- off guard. The smile that once glowed on Loki's face tonight diluted. "Are you not coming ho-are you not coming over to the facility?" You took the loose strands of hair coming in front of your face and tucked them behind your ear. Your eyes no longer met Loki's gaze. "No. I'm...tired. I should go home." The camera zoomed in further and saw that your smile had evaporated. Your chest rose to take in a lungful, and you pursed your lips. "Bye, Loki," you stated softly with a gentle wave, gradually taking steps away from him. Loki stood there for a moment, blinking. He too breathed in one long huff of air. "Bye...Y/N." The camera watched you sit inside the taxi and the yellow vehicle took its time to ride away. And just as it became out of focus, Scott and Peter stood in the frame. "Wait...wait wait wait wait wait." Scott held his head with both hands, trying to understand the situation. Peter stood next to him with mouth agape and a shade of disbelief being coloured in the arms of sadness, staring periodically between the lone figure of Loki looking into nothingness and the taxi which suddenly had its break lights on a few meters away. "What the hell did they just talk about?" Scott was still trying to process the moments that had passed. Peter's gaze was stuck on the taxi that had stopped now. The spider boy tapped on Scott's shoulder, trying to get his attention. The camera, for the time being, only focused on Scott's inevitable breakdown. "But everything was going so well!" Scott gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "They jumped in the pool together, Loki took her out of the pool. Loki dried them both with magic-" Peter tapped at Scott's shoulder again as the back door of the taxi opened- "and then they had dinner together. They even laughed at the mac and cheese portions! What the hell went wrong?!" An out-of-focus figure ran from the taxi back towards the restaurant front.

Now, the camera whipped away from a sulking Scott towards Loki being grabbed by his arm from behind him. "Loki," you tried to breathe his name, never letting go of his arm. Loki observed that and so did the cautious zoom of the camera. "We have to go." The camera was too quick to pan in on the God's flawless face. Loki's brows furrowed. But his pupils widened just a little. The arm being was held by your urgent touch- almost reacting on its own- let his hand graze your elbow. His fingers secured you in front of him in a light hold, not letting you go. "Where?" is all he asked. "Home-" your voice nearly broke- "Pepper's water just broke."

[viking-raider]

Love At First Sight > Part One

Summary-> Henry finds himself standing at the altar for the celebrity version of Love at First Sight, where he marries Alexa. Once married, nearly every moment of their new life will be documented for a year.

But the real question is, will they be married at the end of that year?

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/OFC (Alexa)

Word Count-> 9.6k

Warnings-> PG: Arranged Marriage, Language, Banter, Alcohol

Inspiration-> Nick and Vanessa Lachey's Love is Blind on Netflix.

Author’s Note-> The correct post! Hopefully the next parts won't so long. Not doing a lo of warning. But there's not many to do. I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

–The Wedding–

Henry was terrified as he paced his dressing room, his shaking hands fiddling with the buttons of his suit jacket. He was dressed to the nines, in a dark blue, three-piece suit with a charcoal, button down dress shirt and black tie, sporting thin gold stripes. He glanced at himself in the mirror for the millionth time, seeing his neatly brushed curls that he'd cut the afternoon before in preparation for the event, and the smoothness of his cheeks, lightly adorned with his sandalwood aftershave.

“God, what have I gotten myself into?” He fretted, biting his bottom lip as he turned on the heels of his shining, black dress shoes, to pace the length of the room again. “Marrying someone, I don't know, with the world watching, then having our every moment followed afterward for the next year.” He felt his heart thunder harder.

Henry's agent had come to him, saying that a casting agent for a show about celebrities who marry each other, at first sight, on the altar, after the show's team of matchmakers, therapists, relationship experts and host of other people match them with each other. Once married, a small film crew would follow them around for a year, to see if they would stay married or divorce. At first, Henry declined the offer, four or five times. But, when his agent came back to him with the show's last offer, a week before his thirty-eighth birthday, Henry had been in a mood, feeling his 'clock' ticking on finding a wife on his own, after so many failed relationships, and starting a family.

So, he had impulsively said yes.

Now, eight months later, Henry was dressed in his wedding suit, waiting to be taken out to the altar so he could meet his future wife. Only knowing her first name, Alexa. He had tried to think of all the famous 'Alexa's' he knew, that had the potential to be paired with him, based on the criteria they'd given him. Such as not marrying him to a woman more than ten years his junior, but there were very few and he wasn't allowed to contact them to ask.

There was a soft knock on his door and Henry paused, turning as it opened and the crew member taking care of him popped their head in.

“We're ready for you, Mr. Cavill.” He smiled at Henry, giving him a warm and encouraging smile.

“Right.” Henry smiled back, trying to exude a calmness, following him out.

The crew member directed Henry to the stage, where they had set up the gorgeous altar, motioning to Henry's mark by the Humanist Chaplain, Preston Larson, who also offered a smile and slight nod.

“How are you?” He asked, in a low voice.

“Nervous.” Henry chuckled, smirking at him.

“I would be shocked, if you weren't!” Preston laughed back, reaching out to rest his hand on Henry's shoulder. “But it'll be great.” He told him, hoping to instill some confidence in him.

“I hope so.” Henry mumbled, taking a deep breath, his eyes moving towards the French doors he'd come through, watching the crew close them, signaling that things were starting to really progress and the moment of no return had come.

The assistant director behind the camera signaled and the wedding music started, sending Henry's heart into his throat. Everything he had been worrying over and thinking about for the last eight months rushed him. Who is she? What did she do for a living and how would it interact with his career as an actor? What did she look like? Would they get along and like each other? Or would they end up hating each other? They both had already signed a contract that stated they couldn't divorce or separate, until the one year mark, for the benefit of the show's content, and obviously the ratings. They could live apart, but that was about it. They would still be obligated to see each other for filming, however.

It would be a draw to see them struggle and argue, or just be cold and ignore one another.

The double doors opened and Henry felt his back straighten, his cerulean eyes widening a fraction as his soon-to-be wife appeared around the corner to stand in the doorway. He felt his thundering heart skip a beat and pause. He vaguely recognized her as one of the many 'Alexa's' he had looked up. She was Alexa Forsberg, a thirty year old musician from Norway. Alexa and her band were quite accomplished, having numerous albums and singles out, topping charts and going platinum. Henry was sure he even had a few of their songs on his Spotify playlist.

He thought she looked utterly gorgeous in her dress, as well. She was wearing an elegant lace, fit and flare, applique on tulle dress, that had a beaded and sheer illusion adorned with thin beaded spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline. Its finishes were a lace up back closure, matching lace embellished hem and a chapel length train. Her snow-white hair flowed down her back, but was adorned with beautiful braids. He also noticed her left arm, from the top of her shoulder to the crease of her elbow, was tattooed.

Alexa's nervous expression turned to one of surprise, seeing Henry standing at the altar, awaiting her. Of all the people she considered meeting at the altar, the amazing and handsome Henry Cavill was not on Alexa's list. Long or short. She figured he would have women climbing all over him, that he'd have someone in his life.

Seems not. She thought, slowly making her way towards the Brit, manic butterflies swarming her stomach.

Henry instinctively reached a hand out to her, as she reached him, momentarily forgetting the rolling cameras and the promotion photographers that were on them. Alexa smiled and took Henry's hand, feeling the gentle, but strong grasp he had on hers, the signet ring on his pinky cooling her heated skin. He smiled down at her, his blue orbs glittering in the lights, Alexa's knees formed into jelly as she stared up at him, feeling all of his attention on her, and only on her.

“Hi.” Henry greeted her quietly, feeling a jitter of another kind.

“Hi.” Alexa replied, grinning and shyly biting her bottom lip. “It's nice to meet you.” She giggled softly, blushing.

He laughed, his head bowing forward slightly. “It's great to meet you too.”

“Shall we?” Preston gently interrupted, smiling between the two of them.

Clearing his throat, Henry helped guide Alexa up onto the raised altar, before joining her. “I'm ready, if she is.”

Alexa took a deep breath and nodded. “I'm ready.” She said, smiling over at Henry.

Reaching over again, Henry took her hand and gave it a squeeze, knowing that they both were in this weird and strange situation together, wanting her to know he was there, even though they just met. Preston looked between them, sensing a bond forming between them, a rare occurrence on the already four complete seasons of the show. He had a small suspicion that Alexa and Henry could be one of the few successes.

“Today, Henry and Alexa, before I marry you today, it is my duty, before God, to remind you of the solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to take.” Preston declared, reciting from the small black book in his hands, before casting his kind, hazel eyes to Henry. “Henry Cavill, do you take Alexa Forsberg, to be your wife and do you promise to stay true to her, as long as both of you shall live?”

A small lump began to form in Henry's throat, before he felt the light pressure of Alexa's hand, it filled him with the courage and calm he needed, on the outside. “I do.” He nodded, glancing down at her, the smile on his lips widening, upon seeing hers.

Preston smiled at them both. “And Alexa, do you take Henry, to be your husband, will you honor and cherish him, as long as you both shall live?” He asked her, seeing a shy and nervous sparkle in her icy-blue eyes as she nodded.

“I do.” She answered, sounding positive.

“Do either of you have anything to say?” Preston asked, glancing between them.

“I know this is unconventional and we only just met,” Henry spoke up, biting his lip and glancing down at their joined hands. “But I promise to do right by you.” He swore, glancing back into her eyes.

Alexa melted, feeling the weight of his words. “I have all faith in you.” She replied, squeezing his hand. “And in us.”

Preston closed his book, hugging it to his chest as he regarded them. “Henry and Alexa, it gives me great pleasure to declare that you are legally husband and wife.” He announced, clapping.

It was a mindless impulse that caused Henry to carefully cup one side of Alexa's face in his large palm and lean in to kiss her. Not catching himself, until he felt his lips on hers and her momentary hesitation, before returning it. Pulling away, Henry took her hand again and they walked down the aisle, back towards the French doors and backstage, where they would get a little alone together, before doing interviews. After that, they'd be able to change out of their wedding outfits, so they could leave and head towards the airport, where they would fly to their destination honeymoon.

Which, at the moment, neither of them

They made it into the dressing room that connected theirs, with Henry's on the left and Alexa's on the right. It was decorated with roses and rose petals, a bottle of champagne on ice with two champagne glasses, their silver stems curved, so they formed a heart when side by side. Mr. Henry Cavill, Groom, engraved on one and Mrs. Alexa Cavill, Bride, engraved on the other.

Seeing the glasses solidified the situation even more to them.

“I'm sorry about kissing you.” Henry blurted out, carding a hand through his hair.

Alexa giggled, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink, her lips still tingled from the contact. “It's more than all right, Henry.” She assured him, moving over to take a seat and slip off the cut-out heels she was wearing. “I'm sure it's something we'll be doing more of.” She commented, looking up at him.

“True.” He nodded, moving towards the bubbly. “Are you thirsty?” He asked, motioning to it.

“I am.”

Peeling the gold foil off, Henry carefully popped the cork and poured her a half-glass, handing it over, before pouring himself one. “Can I ask, why did you decide to do this?” He inquired, taking a sip and moving to sit across from her.

Alexa blushed again and looked at her engraved name, considering his question for a moment. “I don't know.” She finally answered, her brow creasing as she searched for a better explanation. “Almost all of my brothers are married.” She said, finally taking a drink of champagne, enjoying the dry crispness. “The ones that aren't are either engaged or have kids. Then again,-” She laughed, shaking her head. “I say, almost, like two of them are old enough.”

“Wait.” Henry shook his head, confused. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Oh!” She smirked over at him, leaning back in her chair. “You have quite the gauntlet ahead of you. My parents had eight kids. Seven of which are all boys. Minus myself, obviously. I'm dead center, at number six, with my twin brother, Jakob.”

“Christ alive!” Henry gasped, eyes wide. “And I thought I had a lot of brothers, at four. Who's the oldest and youngest?”

“My brother, Erik, is the oldest. He's forty-four, and the youngest is Einar, who just turned eight.” She informed him, a fond smile on her face. “I can recite everyone else's names for you later.” She giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You'll probably have to tell me a couple times, till I meet them.” Henry laughed back.

“True.” She nodded, amused. “But, I figured I should probably get into a relationship, before Einar beats me to it, and this came up. So, I thought, what's the worst that could happen? A divorce lawyer?” She quipped, but saw a glimpse of light in Henry's eye, telling her he didn't find it quite as funny. “Well, it can't go any worse than my previous relationship. How about you?”

Henry pressed his lips together and stared into his champagne, his shoulders stiff for a moment. “I was engaged once before, when I was in my late twenties, but it didn't work out.” He explained quietly, a sore strain in his voice. “I figured I would be married and have, at least, one kid by now. Yet,-” He heaved a heavy sigh, biting his lip. “Well, I don't. I originally turned the show down a couple times. But, as the thought of hitting forty soon, and not having either of those things, or one of them, hit me. I figured this was, sort of, my last chance at getting that dream, of having what my brothers have.”

He looked over at her, his brow creased and his eyes troubled and slightly glassy. “Do you want kids?” He asked, a worried bubble in his stomach, realizing Alexa could possibly not want to have children.

“I do.” She nodded, honestly, feeling the urge to get up and soothe him. “I'd like, at least, two.” She told him something never talked to anyone about her dream of children before. “Having an only child, being from a large family, is just an odd feeling and it doesn't seem right, knowing the bond siblings give each other.”

Henry felt a tightness that had wrapped around his chest, like a rubber band, snap with relief. “I feel the same way.” He smiled, licking his lips.

“So, where do you think they're sending us on our honeymoon?” Alexa asked, cocking a brow at the black gift box, wrapped in a deep-red satin ribbon-bow.

“Hopefully somewhere warm.” Henry laughed, remembering the pouring rain as he hurried out of the car to get into the building several hours before. Setting his glass aside and picking the box up, he balanced it in his palm, before carefully tugging the bow free and opening the lid.

Setting the lid on the table beside his champagne, Henry reached inside the box and pulled out a card with two plane tickets. “Looks like we'll be spending our two week long honeymoon at a sweet, little villa, in Tamarindo, Costa Rica.”

“Ooo.” Alexa cooed, finishing off her drink. “I haven't been to Costa Rica in a long time.”

“I've never been to Costa Rica.” Henry commented, setting the tickets aside.

“It's beautiful.” She smiled, fondly. “I'm sure you'll love it.”

“I'm sure I will.” He replied, smiling back at her, holding her eyes and felt a bubble and spark in the pit of his stomach, before shifting his gaze to her tattooed arm. He'd never dated a woman so heavily tattooed before, he did have a few exes with one or two in discreet places, but nothing like Alexa's half sleeve.

“Does my sleeve bother you?” Alexa asked, following his eyes.

Henry started, blinking rapidly to try and clear any expression that came across as disapproval or as if it would prevent him from being attracted to her. Which he was. “No!” He blurted out, quickly. “God, no.” He said, in a more natural tone. “It's just I've never been with a woman with such an intricate tattoo before. Two girlfriends I've dated that had tattoos, had them on their ankles. A butterfly and a little, blue heart.”

“This isn't my only tattoo.” Alexa chuckled at him, an amused and playful light in her blue eyes, holding her arms out to him, showing him the tattoos there.

Tattooed on the inside of her left wrist was a heart and pentagram combination, forming a Heartagram, the logo of the Finnish band, HIM. While on right arm, just below her elbow, on the inside, was an infinity symbol with a semicolon interrupting one side of the loop.

“I have a few other tattoos, one is on my back. It's Family, written in Ogham, or Middle Irish, surrounded by my family's zodiac constellations.” She explained to him, unconsciously reaching back to touch the general area where it was. “And what is actually my biggest, and arguably my most important, tattoo is actually on my side.” Alexa touched her left side, biting her lip and hoping she wasn't putting Henry off. “But it sort of branches out to my back and stomach.”

“What's that one?” Henry asked, curious.

“It's the tree of life, Yggdrasil.” She told him, with a sort of pride. “But it's also sort of combined with a Cherry Blossom tree. I love Cherry Blossom trees.” She confessed to him, beaming. “I suffer, I'll tell you this now, from chronic depression, and have since I was a kid. Winter, while has been, ironically, my favorite season, doesn't do wonders for my depression, with the dark and gloominess. But, there's always been this cool sweet spot to it, for me, because outside my flat, there are three Cherry Blossom trees. They're early blooming trees. They're sorta known for being the first sign of Spring being heralded in, and Winter ending.”

“Seeing those teeny, delicate flowers blooming, while everything is still rainy or snowy and dark, right outside my window, is such a breath of fresh air. Like, they're helping me out of my own winter.”

Henry softly nodded, his expression understanding and empathetic. “I can relate to that.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, looking into her empty glass. “Anyway, I digress! My tattoo is Yggdrasil, but I have Cherry blossom flowers on the branches, with the leaves. The leaves and blossoms mean something, themselves. I add a leave for a person I've lost in my life, with their initials inside of it. While, with the cherry blossoms, I add a blossom for someone that's made an impact on my life. I don't have one for all of my family, I think that would clutter the entire tree.” She giggled, twisting the end of one of her braids. “But, I do have leaves and blossoms for my parents, siblings and grandparents. As well as, one of my uncles.”

“That's very deep.” Henry observed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, wondering if one day he'd have the honor to be one of the Cherry Blossoms.

“Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?” Alexa asked, cocking her head at him. “I know as an actor, it can be a pain for a wardrobe to cover up, if need be.”

“Yeah, they can be quite cross about things like that.” He laughed, nodding his head. “But, yeah, I have actually considered it. Especially, there's a company that can make tattoo ink from cremated ashes.” He explained to her, chewing on the inside of his lip. “I've thought about, when the time comes, to turn some of Kal's ashes into ink and get some sort of tattoo to honor him.”

“That would be so super sweet.” She smiled, warmed that Henry was so devoted to his dog.

“So, what did your parents think about you coming on this show, to marry some random celebrity?” Henry asked, smirking at her.

Alexa laughed, shaking her head with amusement, recalling her family's reaction to her telling them she would be doing the show. “They weren't thrilled. My brothers think I'm crazy and my parents think I should be finding a guy the traditional way. How about yours?”

“They were surprised, but they're supporting me.” He replied, looking down between his feet. “Especially if I end up happy.”

“Well,” Alexa lifted her glass to him. “Here's to us, hopefully, ending up happy together.” She smiled, holding his eye with an expression that told Henry she was being genuine.

“To us being happy together.” He echoed, raising his glass, gently touching their rims together.

There was a knock on the door and a crew member popped into the room, looking between Alexa and Henry, as if expecting to find them either sucking face, being cold and awkward with each other or arguing. But his face changed to one of pleasant surprise, finding them sitting easily with each other, enjoying the bubbly.

“We're ready to start the interviews.” He informed them. “Who wants to go first?”

“Why don't you go first?” Henry suggested, looking at Alexa. “That way, you have more time to keep your heels off.” He said, looking down at her feet, seeing the rosy marks from the heels straps pressing into her feet and the slight swelling, puffiness.

“Thanks.” She smiled at him, grateful for the gesture, since her feet were starting to kill her, standing and following the crew member out of the room and down the hall, where they had a little room set up for the interviews.

Henry got up and poured himself a fresh glass of champagne, before crossing over to his dressing room, while he waited for his wife to return.

– Alexa’s Interview –

Alexa got comfortable on the seat in front of the black and red, damask backdrop they were using to narrow the room and keep the focus on her, with no distractions in the background. She looked towards the camera, watching the crew fuss around behind it and smiled at the assistant director, Riah, who sat perched on a stool, a thick binder in her lap with Alexa and Henry's names on the front.

“How are you feeling?” Riah asked, off camera.

“I feel really good.” Alexa smiled, despite feeling the glass of champagne she had with Henry.

“I'm glad.” Riah smiled, nodding her head, before looking over her shoulder. “Are we ready?” She asked the cameraman, who mumbled something to her. “Great, here we go!”

The light on the camera popped on, signaling it was rolling and Alexa took a deep breath, readying herself for the questions Riah was about to fire at her.

“So, Alexa, you just got married, at first sight, to Man of Steel and The Witcher himself, Henry Cavill!” Riah grinned, nodding her head, like she was trying to instill a bubbly and happy energy into Alexa. “How does it feel?”

“It feels great and surreal!” Alexa answered, blushing softly and giggling. “Of all the people I thought I'd see at the altar, Superman wasn't it. But I'm excited to get to know him, as my husband.”

“Are there any reservations about getting married to a stranger?”

Alexa's brow creased for a moment. “I think to have some concerns would only be natural, in a situation like this. Henry and I have never crossed paths in life before, so we don't know anything about each other. We're bound to find something about the other that creates a conflict or a stress on the marriage. I just really hope, whatever it is, we can work through that.”

Riah grinned at Alexa, giving her a devilish look. “Are there any feelings of attraction going on with you? Do you feel yourself already falling for him?”

“I think you'd be crazy, not to be attracted to him!” Alexa chuckled, smiling. “He's incredibly handsome and--” She paused, licking and biting her lip for a moment. “Yeah, I am feeling a stir of something for Henry. Whether or not, it'll develop into a full blown attraction and love, I think is, maybe, a little too early to say.”

“The two of you just got to spend a little private time together, what was it like?”

“It was very pleasant. He's such an easy person to be around. I feel that I could be myself around him and that I'll be able to trust him. Henry is a real gentleman and I think he'll make a great husband.”

“Do you think you'll be sharing a bed with him, when you arrive on your honeymoon in a couple hours?”

Alexa was caught off guard with her question, not having thought that far into the future yet. “I don't know.” She squeaked, throat tight. “Maybe. We'll have to see when we get to our destination and what the mood is like.”

“What Henry is feeling on the subject.”

– Henry’s Interview –

The wood of the chair was still warm under Henry, from Alexa sitting on it not moments before. He felt oddly at ease in front of the camera, supposing it was because he spent so much time before one for his job. But he felt the gentle simmer of nerves beneath his calm, knowing he and Alexa would be leaving the venue soon for the airport, so they could start their honeymoon. He kept thinking about what it would be like to live with her and if they would manage it.

“Henry, how does it feel to be a married man?” Riah asked, beaming at him as the camera started to roll. “I know you mentioned in several previous interviews, it was a dream for you.”

A startled expression came over Henry's face, not expecting her to bring it up. “It's-uh, it's going great so far! Alexa is very kind and beautiful. I look forward to spending more time with her and learning more about her, to develop our marriage.”

“Have you talked about a living situation yet?”

“Um, no. We haven't spoken about that, quite yet. We just talked about general things. How our families felt about us doing the show and kids.” He replied, shifting in his seat.

Riah's brows went up. “You haven't discussed how you're going to live together, but you've talked about having kids?”

“Yeah.” Henry nodded slowly, realizing his mistake. “It came up, when we were talking about our siblings.” He said, trying to recover.

“Do the two of you want kids?” Riah asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Should the two of you make it through?” She added an edge in her voice.

Henry didn't answer for a second, wishing he could back track. “We both do, yeah. We'll see through.” He said, carding a hand through his hair, awkwardly. “When we do get through our first year together.”

“Are you attracted to her?” Riah inquired, sensing a bit of tension in Henry’s voice.

“There’s something there.” Henry replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “She’s amazingly beautiful and intelligent. We, I think, have started to connect. So, yeah. I think there’s an attraction starting to form with her.”

“You think the two of you will share a bed?”

“At some point, yes.” He nodded, smirking at her, his smooth cheeks warming up. “Whenever Alexa becomes comfortable with it.”

Getting back to his dressing room, Henry let out a hard breath and loosened his tie, relieved that everything was finished. Now, all he had to do was get out of his suit and gather his things, so he could head to the airport for their flight to Costa Rica.

“With my new wife.” He thought aloud, taking a seat on the couch to unlace his shoe and slipped them off, flexing his toes as he set them aside.

He looked up at the door that led to the adjoining room, then across to Alexa’s, where she was no doubt doing the same thing he was. He wondered if they would be going to the airport together or separately. He hoped they’d be going in the same car, it would give them more time together, on top of the time on the plane to their honeymoon spot.

Sighing, he stood up, unbuttoning his jacket and waistcoat, carefully laying them out on the arm of the couch, then took his pants off. He grabbed the duffel bag he’d come with and grabbed his casual clothes, a tan colored pull over with four buttons on the right shoulder and a pair of dark wash, blue jeans, with his favorite pair of worn, brown boots.

Dressed, he neatly put his suit away in its garment bag and tucked his shoes into his bag, Henry slung the duffel bag across his body and crossed the adjoining room. He paused a moment, considering another glass of champagne, but noticed that the two glasses had vanished.

“Alexa?” He called, lightly knocking on her door.

The door opened and Alexa stood before him, she had gotten out of her dress while Henry was in the middle of his interview with Riah. Exchanging it for a pair of black joggers, one leg pushed up to her knee, a blue and yellow, gunge crosshairs symbol on the thigh, with a Stranger Things Hellfire Club raglan t-shirt. Feet bare other than her multi-colored, flowery and retro-striped Bombas socks. Her hair was braided shill, she had uncoiled several and pulled her hair up into a bun, away from her face and off her slender neck, but one of the thin braids hung down and rested against her chest.

“Hey,” She smiled up at him. “I'm almost ready.”

“That's fine.” He assured her, licking his lips and biting the inside of his cheek, even out of her dress, he found her beautiful. “I was just wondering, if you had grabbed our champagne glasses?” He asked, twisting his upper body towards the table.

“Oh!” She squeaked, blushing with guilt. “I did. I'm sorry.” She nodded, looking down at her feet.

Henry grinned down at her, touched and amused. “It's all right.” He reassured her, gently. “I was just wondering where they went, that's all.”

Alexa looked up at him, biting the corner of her lip. “Do you want yours?” She asked, quietly.

“I'm positive, it's in good keeping with you, Alexa.” He told her sweetly, daring to reach out and tuck her free braid behind her ear. “I'm ready, when you are. No rush, love.” He added, moving away to lounge in the shared room, pulling his phone out, to open the Cavill family WhatsApp group chat.

Henry: I'm officially a married man!

Charlie: Congratulations! Wish we could have been there.

Piers: Cheers, little brother! Can't wait to meet her. What's her name?

Mum: Congratulations, Henry. Your father and I are happy for you.

Henry: Thanks all. It means a lot to me. Her name is Alexa, and I can't wait to introduce her to you all. We're headed off to Costa Rica on our honeymoon, for two weeks. After that, we should be off to meeting family and friends.

Simon: Can you take pictures and share them?

Henry: We can take photos, but there's no sharing any. They want us to get through the honeymoon first. That way, if there's any trouble between us, there's no raging media posting or anything. It also keeps production under wraps a little bit longer. The production for the show will be announcing the show and who's on it after our honeymoon. Since we're celebrities, it's hard to keep something like this secret for long.

Charlie: That makes logical sense.

Henry: Yeah. Once that NDA clears, I'll send you guys photos of her. She's really beautiful.

“I'm ready to go, Henry.” Alexa said, coming into the room, her backpack over one shoulder and dress draped over her arm.

“Great.” He smiled, standing up and pocketing his phone. “Let's hit it.” He said, heading for the door going out into the hallway, but paused. “They might be waiting for us out there.” He told her, not wanting her to feel ambushed.

“True.” She nodded, taking a deep breath, readying herself.

Nodding back at her, Henry opened the door and stepped into the hall, sure enough, down the hall a short way was the cameraman, his camera resting on his shoulder and pointing up their direction. He hit record as soon as he saw Henry appear, followed by Alexa. The exit was exactly behind the cameraman, forcing them to walk in front of him, while he strode backwards. Henry reached behind him and felt Alexa grab his hand, squeezing it hard as she pressed closer to his back.

“Are you excited to relax in Costa Rica?” She asked, looking up at the back of his head.

“I am.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “It's been a little while since I've had a vacation from work.” He admitted, remembering the last break from work he had, back in 2018, when he took his brothers and sisters-in-law to Fiji. “I look forward to relaxing there with you as well.” He added an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.

Alexa giggled. “You're going to be a handful.”

“To say the least.” He chuckled back, pausing to shove the exit door open and allow her to go ahead of him, then followed her to the awaiting car the show had to take them to the airport.

The cameraman filmed them putting their things into the car's trunk, then got into the back and drove away.

“How long will it take us to get there from here?” Alexa asked, resting back in her seat. “Do you know?”

“Almost nine hours.” Henry answered, pulling the tickets out of his jacket pocket. “But it looks to be a private jet. So we should be nice and comfortable.”

“Mmm, that's nice of them.” She commented, having expected first class on a flight.

“It is.” He agreed, tucking the tickets back into his pocket, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought about getting on the plane, his leg bouncing anxiously.

The ride was quiet, but it wasn't an awkward silence, the two of them watching the rain patter against the dark tinted windows. Their shoulders gently rested together, in an unconscious reminder that the other was there. As the airport came into view, Alexa leaned forward and unzipped a compartment of her backpack, pulling out a black beanie and secured her bag closed again. Henry watched her pull the cute, almost oversized, beanie over her head, a pair of black horns sticking up at the top.

“What?” She frowned over at him, the beanie pulled lower on her forehead.

Henry grinned even more. “You looked adorable with that beanie on.” He told her, lightly flicking one of the horns.

“Oh.” She blushed, biting her lip and scrunching her shoulders. “It's one of my favorite beanies.” She admitted to him. “One of my brothers got it for me, for my birthday a couple years ago..”

“I like it.” Henry said, fussing with his green, Royal Marines Commando hoodie for a moment, as the car pulled up to the doors of the airport, before he got out and moved around the car, opening her door for her.

“Thank you.” Alexa grinned, slipping out into the light rain, securing her bag over her shoulders, before following Henry to the back to grab her dress from the boot.

She watched him pause to pull a worn and faded brown Kansas City Chiefs hat out and secure it on his head, tugging it low over his blue eyes. Alexa understood what he was doing. As much as Henry was using the hat to shield himself from the rain, momentarily, he was using it to hide his face and hopefully keep any potential fans and paparazzi from spotting him. Drawing attention to him and Alexa being together, spreading word through social media that something was up.

“Thank you.” Henry said to their chauffeur, extending his hand to the man, who shook it with an appreciative nod.

Alexa had a gentle smile on her face at the gesture, seeing how kind and much of a gentleman her new husband was. Turning his attention back to Alexa, he extended his hand to her, which she took, with no hesitation, despite all others she felt inside of her. She allowed Henry to guide her through the double-automatic doors and into the hustle and bustle of Heathrow Airport. Biting her lip, she moved a little closer to Henry, who easily weaved a path through the throng of people coming from or going to their boarding gate, carrying or wheeling their luggage.

“You seem to know where you're going.” She pointed out to Henry.

“I've flown out of this airport a few times by private jet.” Henry replied, heading almost straight for security, that would get them through to the VIP area and their terminal.

When they got through security, their jet's crew hadn't arrived yet, so they slipped into the VIP bar across from it to wait. Henry ordered a whiskey on the rocks and Alexa asked for a Dr. Pepper. It was as she sipped at it, that she noticed Henry only grasped the glass in his hand, thumbing the rim and shaking his leg, while his vivid cerulean eyes were distant and cloudy.

“Henry.” She said softly, cocking her head at him, slightly.

“Hm?” He hummed back, only turning his head a fraction in her direction, his eyes never focusing.

“You're not--” Alexa laid her hand on his wrist. “You don't have flight anxiety, do you?” She questioned, concerned by the sudden realization.

Henry cleared his throat hard, finally picking his drink up and taking a deep gulp of the sharp, honey-amber liquid. “I do.” He admitted, with a straight tone. “It's usually not so bad, because I have my dog, Kal.”

Licking her lips, Alexa shifted beside him, her alarm in her eyes, concerned for Henry. “What can I do to help?” She asked, closing her hand around his wrist, trying to be reassuring.

“I don't know.” He answered, finishing his whiskey off.

“What does Kal do for you?” She inquired, rubbing the inside of his arm.

Henry floundered at her question.

Kal was Henry's best friend. He had the American Akita, since he was just a little pup, before his ears could stand up on their own. What very few knew about Kal, was he was a registered Emotional Support animal. For Henry's anxiety, not just on planes. But he helped best, when Henry had to fly. He had wished to bring Kal with him, but had been asked not to, by the production of the show, so he wasn't a distraction on his and Alexa's big day, then their honeymoon. Once that was over, he was more than welcome to be around them.

But he couldn't put to words how Kal actually helped him get through his anxiety from take-off to landing. Just having the Bear close to him, put Henry at ease, like a warm security blanket out of the dryer. So, to that point, he wasn't sure how Alexa could help him keep it under control, during the nearly nine hours they'd be on the jet.

“Have you ever tried surfing before?” Alexa asked, leaning against him.

Henry blinked, confused by the sudden change in conversation. “No, I haven't.” He answered, looking over at her.

“Mm.” She smiled up at him. “When we get to Costa Rica, I want to teach you how to surf.” She said, resting her chin on the top of his shoulder. “So, I hope you have a good sense of balance.”

“Is that so?” He answered, starting to smile uneasily at her. “I think I have pretty good balance. I look forward to seeing you try. Have you ever been scuba-diving?” He asked, feeling the hot knot in his stomach start to relax.

“I've done it once or twice.” She nodded, wrapping her arms around his thick one.

“We'll have to do it while we're there.” He told her, reaching up to brush his fingertips across her cheek.

“I'd really like that.” Alexa beamed, tilting her head lightly into his touch. “I looked up some things to do in Costa Rica, while you were doing your interview.”

“Did you?” Henry cooed, his anxiety down to a manageable level. “Like what?”

“There's some great nature walks, with amazing waterfalls and hot springs, or you can go whale watching, zip-lining and see the island's wildlife. Obviously, there's stuffing your face with the local food.” She rattled off the things she remembered from the website she'd checked, while waiting for Henry to come back from his one-on-one interview.

“The hot springs sound nice.” He commented, cocking an interested brow. “These old, sore muscles could use a nice spa day.”

Alexa giggled at him, shaking her head. “You're not old, Cavill.”

“I'm not young either, Cavill.” He teased back, looking into her eyes.

“Oh,” She sighed, biting the inside of her bottom lip and blinking slowly. “I highly doubt it slows you down any.”

Henry's throat bobbed and a silent shiver ran down his back, realizing she was flirting with him. Seeing the way her eyes darkened and pupils dilated, caused the forming flame in the pit of his stomach to grow in warmth.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cavill, your flight crew are aboard the jet and ready for you.” An attendant announced, as she came up to their table.

“Great, thank you.” Alexa smiled up at her, feeling the muscles of Henry's arm tense up again. “We'll be right there.” She nodded, hoping the attendant would return to station, so she could focus on getting Henry to relax again.

Smiling at the two of you, she turned and exited the VIP bar, Alexa looked to Henry, resting her hand on his board back and scooting closer to him.

“Breathe.” She whispered softly.

“I'm all right.” Henry muttered back, but still took a slow, deep breath. “I'll be all right.” He repeated, nodding his head and sliding out of their booth.

Alexa gave him a gentle look as they made their way to their gate, handing over their tickets and finally boarding the exceptional jet. Henry dropped his bag by one of the seats and turned towards the bathroom, halfway towards the back of the plane. She wished she could do more, as she set her bag down and slid into her seat. Drumming her fingers against the table in front of her, Alexa tried thinking of something she could do that would distract Henry.

Even for a little while.

An idea hit her and she leaned sideways for her bag, digging through it to pull out her Switch and the portable tablet monitor she had for it. Alexa had finished setting it up just as Henry came back from the bathroom and sat down across from her.

“I challenge you.” She said, sliding the blue controller across the table to him.

“To what?” He replied, catching it before it slid off the edge.

“Mario Kart Deluxe 8.” Alexa grinned, turning the game on. “Best winner, five out of ten, decides what we're eating for dinner.”

Henry stared at her for a long moment, he knew what she was trying to do and appreciated it. He felt the bubble of his competitiveness form in his stomach, pulling a smile across his face as he clutched the controller in both hands and rested back in his seat.

“You're on.” He cooed, confidently. “I hope you like curry.” He teased, picking his driver.

“Bowser.” Alexa giggled, nodding her head. “An interesting pick.”

“Who are you going to pick? Princess Peach or Daisy?” Henry teased back, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Ha!” Alexa laughed, scornfully, before picking Shy Guy. “Shy Guy all the way, baby!”

“You're going to get your butt kicked, love.” Henry tisked, watching her pick a track and readied himself, watching the countdown from the monitor Alexa had positioned between them. “Do you play any other games?” He asked, just as the counter finished and their drivers shot across the starting line.

“I have a load of other games on Switch.” Alexa answered, eyes laser focused on the screen, determined not to let Henry distract her.

“Anything good?”

“Define good?” She asked, cocking an eye at her driver.

Henry chuckled, smirking. “What do you have?”

“You're trying to distract me, Henry.” She commented, shaking her head. “It's not going to work.”

“I assure you, my intentions are pure.” He smirked, tensing for a moment as the track parted and Bowser jumped the gap, colliding with a clear spinning, but iridescent, box with a question mark on it. “Ooo, I got a banana peel. You best watch out!” He warned her, bouncing his brows at her.

“Oh, just a peel? I picked up a shell a lap back.” Alexa replied coolly, but her eyes were mischievous. “I have Zelda, Animal Crossing, a couple Mario Karts, Crash Bandicoot, Spyro, which is one of my favorites. I used to play the original Spyros on the first PlayStation.”

“Showing your age.” Henry teased, playfully.

“I know, right!” She giggled, not offended. “Anyway, I also have Hollow Knight. Oh, and a game called Spiritfarer! Ugh, that game is amazing, but it is an emotional trauma!”

“How is it 'emotional trauma'?” He huffed, frowning over at her for a second.

“The game starts with you playing Stella, who takes over the job of Spiritfarer from Charon.” She began to explain, but paused, seeing Henry's Bowser up ahead of her Shy Guy and focused to catch up to him, the hint of a smile making the corner of mouth twitch, as she primed the turtle shell she'd been hoarding.

“Don't you dare!” Henry warned her, straightening up in his seat, eyeing the glowing blue, speed-boost stripe up ahead of them, then glanced at the banana peel he was sitting on. He didn't want to use it. He was hoping to use it as a last-ditch effort, if need be, to toss out at the finish line, in an attempt to stop her from winning.

“Or what?” She huffed, amused. “Are you going to toss your peel at me?” She taunted him, sending out her shell.

“Shit!” He barked under his breath, swerving in an attempt to avoid it.

“Use those reflexes, Superman!” Alexa laughed, smirking at Henry's maneuvers.

“What about yours!” Henry asked back, tossing out the peel.

Alexa gasped, knowing it was too late. “A cruel fate!” She sighed, watching Shy Guy spin out into the barriers.

Alexa yawned as she exited the jet with Henry, it was almost one in the morning. He looked back over his shoulder at her and smirked, shouldering both their bags.

“I told you, you should have taken a nap.” He cooed, having dozed for a few hours, after they played a couple games together on her Switch.

“Mmm.” Alexa hummed back at him, she had continued to play on her Switch, too worried about Henry's anxiety coming back to fall asleep. “I'm starving though. What are we eating, oh Master of the Mario Kart?”

Henry let out a barking laugh, his wide shoulders shaking with its mirth. He had won seven of their ten games, declaring himself Master of Mario Kart. “I have no idea what they have open at one am, but the Villa will probably have something.”

“Odin, I hope.” She sighed, stifling another yawn.

They got out of the airport and found a car waiting for them.

“Welcome to Tamarindo, Costa Rica, Mr. and Mrs. Cavill.” The driver greeted them, opening the back door.

“Thank you.” Henry nodded, motioning for Alexa to slide in first. “Do you know anything about our Villa?”

“I do, Mr. Cavill.” The driver replied, nodding back.

“Is there any room service or way to get food, this late?” Henry inquired, glancing into the car, licking his lips. “My wife,” A small lump formed around the word, it felt so strange for him to say. “Is quite famished.”

“The Villa does room service, with a twenty-four hour kitchen; should anything strike your fancy in the middle of the night.” The driver assured him, with a soft smile.

“Excellent, thank you so much.” Henry smiled, relieved, before getting in beside Alexa. “We're in luck. The Villa has all day room service, so we can order something to eat, when we arrive.”

“Thank Odin.” Alexa hummed, sighing softly, her blue eyes heavily half-lidded.

Henry smirked at her, gently wrapping a thick arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, coaxing her head against his shoulder. Alexa didn't protest, nuzzling and curling up against the warmth of Henry's body with a soft moan, losing the battle with her eyes. He gulped, feeling her body grow heavy, knowing she would likely fall asleep long before they reached their destination, forty minutes away.

“We've arrived at the La Villa de Playa, Mr. Cavill.” The Driver whispered, looking through the rear-view mirror and into the back seat, seeing that Alexa was out cold.

Henry looked out into the darkness on the other side of his window, to a sweet, little one-story, white stucco building. It was brightly lit and nestled in the palms, as well as mango, lemon and coconut trees. A short walk to a beautiful, private, white sand beach, to which Henry could hear the crashing waves, even from inside the car. He couldn't wait to explore the property and island with Alexa.

“Thanks for getting us here.” He said, before the driver stepped out to open the door for him, offering to take their bags, so Henry could carefully maneuver Alexa out of the car, hoisting her up into his arms, bridal-style, and turning toward the front door.

“Allow me.” The chauffeur offered, pulling the envelope taped to the door down and opening it, ignoring the little card inside for the key and slotting it into the lock, opening it for Henry and setting their things just inside the door. “Have a good evening and congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Henry mouthed, nodding.

Smiling softly, the chauffeur returned to his car and left Alexa and Henry to themselves.

Looking at his slumbering wife, Henry smiled gently at her. “Welcome to our villa, my love.” He whispered to her, kissing her forehead, before stepping over the threshold with her and pushing the door closed with his foot.

Henry managed to find the master suite and laid Alexa down on the king sized bed, gingerly pulling off her black, slip-on converse and her beanie, before pulling the folded down blankets over her. Groaning, Henry tugged his hoodie over his head and tossed it in a chair across and sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed, removed his boots, flexing his toes and glanced to the crescent wall of sliding glass windows that went out to a private veranda, a large hanging chair at one side and a glass-bead fire pit on the other.

The loud grumble of his stomach pulled Henry from his thoughts and he stood, padding into the bathroom for a moment. Closing the door to relieve himself, he noticed that the black two-person, whirlpool tub was outside. It was positioned in the center of a little enclosed courtyard, shaded by a wooden pagoda, with a bubbling pond and river rock waterfall behind it.

“I wonder if she likes baths.” He hummed to himself, moving over to wash his hands, then tiptoed out of the master and into the kitchen to see if there was anything in the refrigerator to eat. “I need to get some of my supplements over here.” He commented, jerking open the door, finding a reasonably stocked fridge, but nothing that really peaked his growling stomach's interest.

Snagging a cold bottle of water, Henry found the telephone that allowed him to call for room service and a booklet, neatly organized for breakfast, lunch and dinner, along with some desert items, the chef's favorite and the option to customize.

“Kitchen of La Villa de Playa, how may I help you?”

“Yes, this is the Cavill Villa.” Henry answered, frowning down at the menu, balanced on his knee. “I would like three of your chicken Empanadas with some rice and beans.” He ordered, before biting his lip and thinking of Alexa, worried she would wake up hungry. “As well as one of your beef tamales.”

“Of course, Mr. Cavill. We'll have your food done presently.”

“Thank you.” He replied, before putting the phone back on its cradle and carding a hand through his hair, feeling the cool metal of his signet ring.

He looked down at his left hand, his ring finger bare, as was Alexa's. It was to be part of filming, the two of them going out to look for their wedding rings together. His heart skipped and his stomach clenched at the idea of looking at rings. What kind of ring would Alexa want? He remembered the engagement ring he'd proposed to his ex with. It was a simple little thing. He wasn't making the money back then, that he was now. It was white gold, half-carat, cushion shaped diamond, that had cost him just over two grand. She didn't have the best reaction towards it, but at the time she'd said yes to him asking to marry her.

However, they broke up a couple months later.

Sighing, Henry shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that Alexa wasn't his ex and this relationship wouldn't be the same. He'd do better. He'd be a good husband and prove his worth to Alexa.

Alexa stirred, moaning softly as she woke up, finding herself alone in bed and sat up, frowning into the darkness of the bedroom. “Henry?” She called out, tossing the blankets back and got out of bed in search of her husband. “Hen?” She called again, opening the half closed bedroom door and made her way into the living area, finding Henry sprawled out on the couch with a pillow and blanket.

A smile pulled across her face, seeing his long body stretched out on the short couch, bare feet hanging off the edge, uncovered. She shook her head and detoured into the kitchen, discovering a note from Henry on the island.

I wasn't sure if you'd wake up hungry or not, but I ordered you something to eat. It's in the fridge. -Hen.

“He's so attentive.” Alexa muttered, turning to the fridge and opening it, finding the wrapped plate with her tamale on it.

She found the silverware and perched herself on a stool at the island, digging into her food, moaning at how delicious it was, especially stone cold. Once she was finished eating, she went back into the living room and leaned over Henry, resting her hand on his chiseled chest.

“Henry.” She cooed, looking into his relaxed face, her heart fluttering at how handsome and boyish he looked as he slept, one thick arm flung up over his head. “Henry.” She hummed again, running her hand over his torso, rousing him.

His sleepy blue eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on her. “Are you all right?” He asked, becoming alert.

“I'm fine.” She grinned at him, sweetly. “But why are you out here on the couch?”

“Oh,” He rumbled, licking his lips, brows creasing. “I wasn't sure if you'd want to sleep together and wasn't about to just climb into bed with you, asleep, before we had a discussion about it.” He confessed to her, gulping thickly. “So, I just took the safer option of sleeping on the couch.”

Alexa bit the inside of her lip, touched at his gesture. “I don't mind, if we share a bed together, as long as you don't?” She assured him. “Besides,” She looked him over. “You're not going to be feeling very tip-top, if you sleep on the couch.” She pointed out, smirking.

“No.” Henry sighed, smirking back at her, sitting up with his pillow and blanket.

“Thanks for the food, as well.” Alexa said, as they headed back towards the master.

“Oh, you're welcome.” He answered, perking up a little bit, hearing she'd eaten. “I hope what I got you, was all right?”

“It was great!” She giggled, pulling down the bed's blankets. “I actually love tamales.” She confessed, smiling at him.

“Nailed it, then.” Henry smiled back, moving around the bed.

“Are our bags in here?” Alexa asked, glancing around.

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded, sitting down on the mattress. “I put them in the closet.”

“Cool, I'll be right back.” She said, heading into the walk-in closet.

Henry nodded, then got the bed ready to sleep, looking up as Alexa came back out, in a tank top and a pair of black, Jack Skellington short-shorts. He bit his lip, looking her over, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Did you make a pillow wall?” Alexa giggled, sitting on the bed with him, seeing the line of pillows in the middle of the bed, between her and Henry's sides.

“I did.” He nodded, laying down and pulling the blankets over himself.

Alexa laid down with him and grabbed one of the pillows, smacking him in the chest with it. “Are you afraid of your wife's cooties, Henry Cavill?” She teased him, giggling harder at the offended expression he gave her.

“Not married for twenty-four hours and spousal abuse already.” He huffed, grabbing one of the other pillows and whopped her back with it. “And no, I am not afraid of whatever cooties my wife may or may not have.”

“Well then!” Alexa huffed, grabbing the last pillow and tossed it in his face, before moving into the space the pillows had been, their legs touching. “Have my cooties!” She said, burrowing under the blankets.

Henry looked at her, almost hidden in the blankets and smiled. “All right then.” He whispered, turning onto his side to lay facing her. “You can have my cooties too.” He mumbled, draping his arm over her waist and resting his chin on top of her head.