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missrosegold · 1 month

Text

someone new

Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.

He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.

Word count: 16K

Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)

Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+

Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)

Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!

Title is from Someone New by Hozier

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!

Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.

It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.

A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.

He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:

He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.

It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.

It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)

He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.

He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.

That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.

For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.

That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.

Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.

He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.

Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)

He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.

The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.

The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.

It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.

Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.

The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.

His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.

He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.

Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.

And then he met you.

Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.

-----

He remembers the first time he met you.

After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.

There he had started his rehabilitation.

It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.

In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.

It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.

Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.

He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.

He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.

Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.

He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.

Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.

He was more relieved than he thought he would be.

More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.

Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.

Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.

He remembers the day you met for the first time.

He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.

You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.

“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.

You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”

He sat.

He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.

A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.

He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.

You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.

A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”

You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”

“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”

“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”

That caught his attention.

“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.

He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.

He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.

He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.

“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”

That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.

“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”

You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.

“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”

“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”

“Of you? No.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”

That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.

“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.

You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”

He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.

“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”

“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”

He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.

“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”

You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”

It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.

He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.

You were lucky you were attractive.

The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.

“Mr. Todoroki?”

“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.

“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”

You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.

“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust.

Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.

“So, what now then?”

“Now we talk I guess.”

“About what?”

“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”

Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.

“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”

To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”

That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.

“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.

Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”

He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”

He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”

You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.

For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.

He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.

He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.

True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.

He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.

You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.

There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.

Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.

In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.

He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.

“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”

“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”

It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.

“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”

“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”

He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”

For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you.

Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.

“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”

“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”

“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”

“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.

“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”

“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”

“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.

In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.

There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.

He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.

Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.

Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.

There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.

It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.

You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.

He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.

It had been nice. Comfortable, even.

He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.

“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.

“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”

It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.

He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”

“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”

You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.

At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.

Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.

It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.

When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.

The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him.

Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.

You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.

You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”

You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”

It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.

When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.

You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.

He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.

He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.

He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.

There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.

You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.

He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.

He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.

For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.

When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.

He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.

A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.

Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.

You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.

“You left.”

You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”

“Why did you go?”

You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”

He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”

You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.

“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”

You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”

He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”

He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”

For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.

“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”

“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.

“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”

“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”

“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”

Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”

You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.

“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”

That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.

He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.

What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.

Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.

“What do you want Touya?”

What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.

“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.

“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.

“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.

“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”

He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.

You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.

“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”

In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.

“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”

“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”

A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”

You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.

“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”

He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”

You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”

He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:

“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”

You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”

“Oh. They not in the country, or—”

“We’ll go with that.”

Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”

You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.

“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”

He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.

“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”

“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.

The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.

“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.

In the end, you’d kept your promise.

It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.

Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.

You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.

“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.

He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.

Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.

Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:

He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.

The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.

His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.

The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.

His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.

Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.

“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”

You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.

“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”

“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.

To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”

He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.

His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.

“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”

The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.

He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.

Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:

He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.

He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.

He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.

He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood.

He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.

He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.

As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.

As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.

He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.

Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.

“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.

Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.

He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.

It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.

Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.

As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.

He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”

You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”

He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”

He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”

You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.

“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.

The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.

You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.

He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.

“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”

Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.

He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.

“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”

Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.

He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.

Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.

A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.

He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.

You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.

You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.

“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”

It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.

He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.

He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.

“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”

“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”

“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.

“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”

“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”

He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.

You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.

“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”

That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.

That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.

After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.

It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being.

All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.

For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.

While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.

He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—

-----

The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you.

He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:

His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.

He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.

It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.

His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.

Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.

He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.

He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.

He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.

Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.

He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.

If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.

He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.

He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.

He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.

He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.

He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.

Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily.

He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.

The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off. He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.

“You’re home early.”

You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”

He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”

You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”

He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”

“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”

“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”

You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.

The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.

“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.

“I really missed you; I mean.”

You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”

“Mmmm.”

His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”

He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.

“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.

“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”

“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.

He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.

It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.

He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.

He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.

He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.

“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.

You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.

“Not today babe, let me do the work.”

He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.

“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”

“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”

He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.

The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.

He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.

He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”

“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”

Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.

He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”

“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.

“Eyes on me gorgeous.”

“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.

“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.

“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.

“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”

He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.

“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”

He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him.

“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.

“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”

“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”

“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”

“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”

“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.

“I’m crazy remember?”

“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”

You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.

“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.

“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:

“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”

“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.

“No, you were better.”

He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”

“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.

“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”

He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.

He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.

You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.

“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”

FIN

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya x you #post war!au #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader smut #tw: mental health #see a03 for more detailed tags

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hatsunemiku-official · 11 months

Text

ABOUT ME-KU

(+ FAQ / VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST)

hi! im miku and welcome to Internet! you can do lots of fun things here. like look at my blog! ok im gonna hand the mic over to the omnipotent being that watches my every move

thanks miku. here are some things to remember before you send an ask:

- I am not associated with crypton, sega, or the official miku twitter! im just a guy making funny post

- miku lives in a computer. i probably won’t answer anything referring to her doing things in the real world, since saying “I am in a computer what are you talking about” is only funny the first five times

- I use my askbox as a jumping off point for jokes! if I don’t answer your ask it’s not because I didn’t like it, I just probably couldn’t think of anything funny to respond with

- I love receiving art!!!!!!! please send me your miku art!!!!!!! you can even send me a link to your art posted on your own blog and I’ll reblog it so you still get the notes!!!! I LOVE ART!!!!!! (also the ai training toggle has been turned off for this blog so. you’re safe here.)

- there are some things you should speak to a mental health professional about ( ie “i just can’t go on” “my life is terrible” ect) and you should not send these things to hatsune miku. i understand and empathize with you but I cannot help you and it’s very upsetting to receive things like this !

- anything written in parentheses for the most part is an ooc comment from the person running this blog (that’s me!). I don’t like doing this very often though, so if you have a question that can only really be answered ooc then please ask it off anon so I can respond privately!

- please remember I am just one person and sometimes I make mistakes! im a pretty busy person and also disabled so sometimes things slip through the cracks when im low energy. I do my best though so please let me know if you think i’ve made a mistake and i’ll do my best to fix it :]

- sometimes I like to reblog miku art from other people! please be respectful in these artists notes. I know this is a silly jokes blog but these people have not necessarily signed up to be goofed at on their posts. please be kind and keep the clowning to a minimum on posts that aren’t made by me!

- no TERFS allowed. hatsune miku loves trans women

FAQ

Q: can I make a vocaloid-official blog too???

A: yes!!!! anybody can!! please let me know if you do so I can add you to the masterpost and interact with you! I would check the masterpost first though to make sure there hasn’t already been a blog made for that character :]

Q: do you also run [insert other vocaloid-official blog]?

A: no! I can barely think of funny things to say here do you really think I could manage being funny on two blogs at once. I am friends with the people who run the teto, luka and una blogs so if our posts seem coordinated it’s because I asked them really nicely

Q: who runs this account?

A: secret

Q: miku what’s your opinion on [insert queer identity]

A: I don’t like answering these because I don’t want to open myself up to shitty comments and I can’t think of anything funny to say that wouldn’t just sound like “ally twitch streamer smiling at the camera and saying trans rights”. this blog is run by a queer person and miku is whatever you want her to be, if that helps.

Q: i made a vocaloid-official blog! how do I get added to the masterpost?

A: adding people to the masterpost has gotten really overwhelming for me so I won’t be doing it anymore. sorry! feel free to still make a vocaloid-official blog and interact with me if you want, I just won’t be updating the masterpost anymore. the current list will stay up as it is as sort of like. a memento or something.

Q: do you know anything about PJSK???

A: no <3

OFFICIAL VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST

these are my Official Friends! go say hi to them!!

🥖 @kasaneteto-official

🐟 @megurineluka-official

🐙 @otomachi-una-official

🍷 @hanakomeiko-official

💛 @neruakita-official

🍌 @kagaminelen-official

🍊 @kagaminerin-official

🍦@kaitoshinon-offical

🐢 @ryuto-official (RESURRECTED)

💜 @vflower-official

🥕 @gumi-official

🖤 @zatsunemiku-official

🍡 @tohokuzunko-official

🩹 @fukase-official

🔌 @utatanepiko-official

🐰 @yukari-official

🩵 @ringsuzune-official

⚓️ @oliverv3-official

🌷 @nekomurairoha-official

🥢 @vocaloidcul-official

☕️ @rukoyokune-official

🥂 @meiko-offical

👑 @galaco-official

🐱 @seeu-official

🌸 @meikahime-official

🪻 @meikamikoto-official

🍆 @gakupo-official

🎀 @utanekoe-official

🌹 @sakinemeiko-official

🔪 @mayuofficial

🛰️ @moonbase-alpha-tts-official

🍺 @yowane-haku-official

🪐 @ia-official

🎹 @namineritsu-official

☁️ @tone-rion-official

🎤 @maika-official

🌈 @kawaiine-official

🍏 @macnenana-official

🌻 @dex-official

💗 @garnetvocaloid-official

💿 @yohioloid-official

🌺 @zhizidongfang-official

🤍 @kokone-official

🐸 @vocaloidrana-official

🌟 @xingchen-official

🍎 @yuki-official

🌿 @fionetheutau-official

💫 @sfa2miki-official

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viking-raider · 6 months

Text

A Christmas Miracle🎄

Summary: You and Henry are celebrating Christmas with family, while expecting your first child together.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Soft!Henry, Fluff, Kal, Papa Bear!Henry, Domestic Bliss, Christmas Decorating, Pregnancy Stuff, Cotton Candy Fluff, Loving Marriage, Christmas Fluff

Inspiration: This story ties into my Easter story, The Golden Egg.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

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

“Babe!” Henry gasped, as he came into the living room, nearly tossing the steaming cup of tea in his hand, upon discovering you.

You were standing on the two-step high stool, to sprinkle golden tinsel on the fragrant and robust branches of an eight foot Fraser Fir that stood proudly in the corner of the living room. You chuckled, shaking your head at your husband, but didn't look back at him, as you picked a bit of tinsel off one of the emerald branches, having adorned the needles with too much of the sparkling, thin strands.

“You shouldn't be up there, love!” He scolded you, setting the tea he had made you on the coffee table as he rounded it and the couch, to come towards you, resting his hands on your hips. “I told you, I would help you decorate the tree, once I was done with your tea.”

“I know you did, Hen.” You answered, sighing softly, finally looking down at him and seeing the wrinkle of worry between his brow. It hadn't smoothed since the Brit found out you were pregnant with his child on Easter, nearly nine months before. “But I'm also capable of doing it myself.” You reminded him, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving his neck a gentle squeeze.

“I'm pregnant, not invalid.”

Henry sighed softly, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to your round and pronounced belly. “I know you're capable, sweetheart.” He assured you, looking up at you with an affection in his blue eyes that always melted your heart. “I just don't want you to get hurt. Especially with you so close to the due date.” He said, helping you step down off the stool. “Just sit down and enjoy your tea. Then, we'll tag team the tree together.” He told you, putting an excited smile on his face.

“All right.” You conceded, settling down on the couch and took up your tea, cupping the mug between your hands and letting the heat seep into your palms, before finally taking a sip.

“Your parents will be here in a couple days.” Henry commented, squatting beside a box of Christmas decorations neither of you had opened up yet. “My parents made up their guest house in preparation for their arrival.” He told you, peeking into the box.

Halfway into your pregnancy, Henry had taken time off from acting and the two of you decided to leave your secluded London home for the coziness of Henry's home island of Jersey. Buying a nice, beach front property, three streets and a five-minute walk from his parents' place, with the intent on having your baby boy born in Saint Helier. You loved being on the little Channel Island, sitting on the back patio or taking walks on the beach, breathing in the soothing sea air, which helped your morning sickness a good deal.

The only downside was your family was far out of reach of you, having to fly into Jersey to visit and check-in on you. Your parents wanted to be on hand when you finally had their third grand-baby, so Henry footed the bill to bring them out and his parents were amazing enough to host them while they were here.

“That's great.” You smiled, flexing your sore and swollen feet, watching him pull out ornaments, garland and other little tree decorations. “I can't wait to see them again.” You commented, not having seen them since your fourth month, just before you and Henry left for Jersey. “I'm sure my mom will bring more knitted items.” You chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to the soft, butter-yellow blanket your mother had knitted a couple months ago.

“I would be shocked, if she didn't!” Henry laughed back, his broad shoulders shaking as he stood. “What garland do you want on the tree?” He asked, holding up a strand of colorful beads and another of red and white, twisted ribbons.

You hummed, pressing your lips together and studied your tree, eyes narrowing slightly, scrutinizing the colors on its branches. “I think the ribbon would work best with it.” You finally settled, nodding content with your choice.

“All right then.” He nodded back, putting the other garland aside. “Ah, nope!” He tisked, when you set your tea down and started the mini struggle of standing up. “You put the tinsel on the tree, it's my turn to put the garland on. You relax.”

“Fair enough.” You sighed softly, picking your tea back up and rested against the couch cushions, just in time for Kal to jump up beside you. “Well, hello there, sweet boy.” You cooed at him, reaching out to give him good scratches between the ears and around the neck. “Have you come to make sure I stay put?” You quipped, the Akita resting his head in your lap.

“I did no such thing!” Henry called over his shoulder, carefully tucking the garland into the branches.

“Sure, love. Sure.” You chuckled at him, though Henry's protectiveness at times could be a little overbearing, you knew he did it out of love and first-time father worries. “He's paying you in treats and promises of all the good turkey, ham and brisket bits he plans on cooking for Christmas dinner.” You accused, lifting a brow at the unphased Akita, before wincing and pressing a palm to the side of your belly.

“You all right?” Henry asked, catching a glimpse from his peripheral, pausing a moment.

“Yeah, your son just kicks like a Fly-Half.” You answered, chuckling halfheartedly. “If he keeps these strong legs, he'll for sure make the England team.” You said, trying to ease the look of suspicion on Henry's face, that it was the baby kicking, and your own, that the pain was something more than a false contraction.

“You missed a branch there, Bubs.” You commented, drawing Henry's attention away from the subjection, motioning with your steaming black, Nightmare Before Christmas cup.

“Mm.” He grunted, narrowing his eyes at you, but turned to fuss over it.

You took a deep breath, rubbing the globe of your stomach, hoping to soothe any would-be pains. Thankfully, you didn't have any more throughout the morning, helping Henry put up the ornaments and other little hanging knick knacks on the tree. Something Henry was comfortable with you doing, since you kept your feet on the hardwood, safely beside him.

“I want to do a little plaster imprint of his hand and foot, to hang up on the tree for next year.” You commented suddenly, gently holding a little needlepoint ornament you'd made. It was a silhouette of Henry and you, with Kal between you, the year above your heads. You had made one every year since the first Christmas the three of you had spent together. “Should make a new needlepoint too.” You added even softer.

Henry glanced down at you, a fond and nostalgic light in his blue orbs. “I think that would be a lovely idea, babe.” He smiled, warmed at the idea. “I like the idea of making and expanding our little traditions.”

“I should have given myself a baby bump in this one.” You joked, carefully adding the stitched ornament on a branch, accompanied with the others around it. “So much for accuracy.”

“It looks perfect, my love.” He assured you, kissing your hair. “Now, let's turn the lights on and see how this thing looks!” He proclaimed, shuffling around the tree and plugged in the two strings of lights skillfully wrapped around the tree.

You stood back to get a good look at the Fir, just as the tiny, cool and warm-white LED, diamond facet bulbs flickered on. Making many of the ornaments glitter and twinkle. It brought a great feeling of delight bubbling up inside of you, tugging on your exhausted and hormonal raged body, until tears spilled over.

“Sweetheart.” Henry cooed, pouting at you sweetly, as he closed his arms around your shoulders, hugging you as closely as your belly would allow.

“It looks beautiful.” You mumbled into his chest, fingers gripping at the sides of his shirt.

He smiled, nosing the hair at the top of your head and rubbing your back with one hand. “It is, dear, and so are you.”

“I'm also starving.” You blurted out, breaking the melancholy mood.

“Butter chicken or pepperoni and feta pizza?”

“Oh god, you know me too well at this point.” You giggled, licking your lips. “But, the butter chicken.”

You sat up in bed, Kal resting between your legs, with his head laying on your belly, as you read your latest book on your Kindle. While Henry was downstairs doing some work on the new Warhammer minis he ordered as a way to keep himself occupied, when he wasn't taking care of you.

“Oh.” You gasped, feeling a sudden, sharp pain. “Gosh, did we disagree on the butter chicken, Bean?” You groaned, pressing your palm to the side of your stomach; Kal lifting his to sniff at your belly as another pain caused you to cramp. “It's all right, Bud. Your brother is just being a little difficult.” You sighed, setting your e-reader on your nightstand and lumbered out of bed, before heading downstairs.

“Hey, love.” Henry smiled, looking up from the Ultramarine mini in his hand. “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I was trying to, but your son doesn't agree with dinner.” You explained to him, looking over his progress on his Warhammer army. “Can you do your trick?” You asked, lulling your head to the side and giving him a cute look.

Henry chuckled, setting his mini down. “My trick.” He smirked, standing up and moving behind you. “Any reason to cuddle.” He teased, reaching around to cup both hands beneath your stomach and leaned you both backwards, taking the weight of your belly as he did.

“Mmm.” You hummed, eyes falling shut, while you let your head rest against Henry's chest. “It feels so good.” You sighed, resting your hands on his.

Henry cradling your baby bump had become a god send throughout your third trimester. Taking the weight of your healthy and active baby boy off your lower back and hips. However in your earlier trimesters, the two of you learned it helped relieve your heartburn and whenever your little one got a bit too restless.

You liked to think it was the baby reacting to Henry's touch.

It was calm for a long, few moments, just you and Henry, slowly swaying side to side, the baby calm. But again, your stomach spasmed and you whimpered, making it clear to Henry, you were indeed having some sort of contractions.

“How long has this been going on?” He asked, eyes wide and brows pinched.

“Since this morning.” You confessed finally, taking slow, deep breaths.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He demanded, startled and worried.

“I didn't have any through the afternoon.” You assured him, patting his hands. “I figured it was just false. But, I'm starting to think otherwise, with how much that one hurts.”

“We should probably go to the hospital.” Henry fret, starting away from you, but you turned and caught his elbow.

“Henry.” You said in a soft, soothing voice. “You remember what the OB said?” You tried reminding him. “Four-One-One.”

“Four minutes apart, a minute long, lasting an hour.” He recited, having listened to your OB, and read numerous baby and expecting parent books.

You had taken a couple of parenting classes as well. Until people started posting photos of you on social media, annoying you and causing Henry to be even more of a papa bear. So, you'd found an online, private class to do in the comfort of your living room.

“Not one has lasted a minute, been four minutes apart or lasted an hour.” You assured him, dropping your hand to his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “If they're the real deal, I'm in the early stages and going to the hospital now will only incur hours and hours of waiting. Which we'll be doing here anyway.”

“What if something happens?”

“Nothing is going to happen, you worry-wart.” You chuckled at him, shaking your head. “Come to bed with us.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes, kissing his bearded cheek and brushing your fingers through the curls above his ear.

“You'll tell me.” Henry insisted as he followed you upstairs to the master bedroom.

“Of course, I'll tell you, Henry.” You assured him. “Then, I'll tell Kal.” You quipped, trying to lighten the mood and get him to smile.

But he didn't smile, his mind preoccupied with making sure everything was ready, should you wake him up and tell him your contractions were growing close together.

Did I get the car seat in the Audi correctly? Where did I put the hospital bag? In this closet or the coat closet downstairs? Everything's in it she and the baby needs, right?

“Babe.”

Perhaps I should just go down and get it, to make sure. What about the nursery? Thank God, I finished the crib last month!

“Hen..”

Do we need more diapers? Are they the right size? What if--

“Henry!” You called out, when he didn't answer you, a far off and growing alarm look in his cerulean eyes, startling him out of his worried trance. “Everything is all right.” You said slowly, holding his gaze steadily. “We have everything we need. Everything the baby needs. If we don't, that's perfectly fine. Your parents and mine have offered their help, should it arise. As have your brothers.”

“I don't know how you're so calm.” He sighed, shaking his head and dropping down on his side of the bed.

You laughed, smirking. “I'm not calm. But there's no use for us both freaking out, especially at the same time. Besides, when I freak out, I have you to pull me back together, the least I can do is return the favor, when you start to lose it.” You told him, maneuvering yourself back under the covers.

“What's a spouse for?”

“You're right.” Henry nodded, turning the light out and resting against the headboard beside you. “One of the many reasons I love you, and married you.” He said, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

Snuggling down, your back pressed against Henry's chest with his hand ever present on your belly, you tried to focus on falling asleep.

“You know.” Henry commented, half-asleep himself. “I sort of miss when you were in your first and second trimesters.”

“Oh?” You mumbled back, with interest.

“Yeah, you were always jumping my bones.” He laughed, shaking the bed with his mirth. “Well, until the end of your second trimester, when your belly got too big to do anything other than waddle and ride my cock.”

You were instantly awake again at his words. A huge smile of hot guilt and embarrassment on your face, that you hid in your pillow. It was true! The first stages of your pregnancy had made you quite frisky towards Henry. Sometimes so much so, he hadn't recovered from the last time you'd had sex and would need to pleasure you in other ways to bring your arousal down. Not that the man complained about it! But a couple weeks into your third trimester, the raging inferno of your passions cooled off. Even beyond what they were before you were expecting. You were just too tired and sore, uncomfortable, and just ready to give birth, to think of such things. But again, Henry didn't complain. You were grateful for that, because you felt bad that your mood didn't match his, at the moment.

Having seen the look of concupiscent on his face more than once, as the two of you showered together, went to bed or woke in the mornings. But you just didn't have it in you, and he took it with grace and understanding acceptance, not pressuring you or making you feel like a bad partner, for not reciprocating.

The two of you calmed down and allowed each other to finally fall asleep.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Henry asked, the next morning as the two of you finished breakfast.

“I feel all right, Bubs. Only a few pains here and there.” You answered, polishing off your usual cup of chamomile tea, something that had been a staple throughout your pregnancy, to battle your morning sickness and heartburn. “Excited to make cookies with your mum.”

Henry smiled across the table at you. “Good. I bet all these sugary smells are going to drive you and wee man nutty.”

It was a Cavill family tradition to get together, before Christmas, and make cookies for the big family dinner party, as well as to give out as tokens to friends and neighbors. It was also considered quite the honor among the Cavill brothers' wives to have Marianne ask to join her in the massive production. Since she didn't ask just anyone to help her; having a couple secret family recipes to protect in the process. But Marianne had asked, surprisingly and much to Henry's pride, you to help her, at your and Henry's first Christmas. Something that made one or two of Henry's sisters-in-law jealous, especially since the two of you were new and still dating, and one of them had never been asked.

Even to this day.

“Our mouths are already watering for your mother's chocolate chip, mocha cookies.” You confessed; it was one of the many things you looked forward to for Christmas. Marianne's chocolate chip, mocha flavored cookies were something you'd start a fight over, as were her chocolate covered, Oreo truffles with peppermint bark crumble on top. “Oh god.” You moaned, stuffing the last bit of bland, buttered toast into your mouth; Henry laughing at you.

“I'm going to roast up another heritage turkey this year.” He commented, finishing his coffee, then helped clear the breakfast table. “Everyone seemed to love it last year.”

“That's fine with me.” You answered, loading the soap dispenser and starting the dishwasher. “I have one small request.”

“You could make an enormous request, love!” Henry snorted, taking a protein shake out of the fridge.

“I want yams with roasted marshmallows on top.” You told him, confidently. “To myself.”

“To yourself?” He echoed, a smirk on his lips. “How big is the dish?”

“A small one is fine. I just don't want to share it.” You confessed your craving to him.

Letting out a laugh and nodding, Henry shrugged. “All right then. I'll make sure you have your roasted marshmallow covered yams, and I'll have Kal guard them.”

“Excellent.” You nodded back, then looked at your watch. “We should get going. Your mother asked us to get there before ten.” You informed him, heading for the front door and eased yourself down on a small bench that was there.

Henry joined you, squatting down to grab your shoes from underneath the bench and slipped them on your feet, tying them securely, since your prominently belly prevented you from reaching your feet to put on your shoes. Let alone tie them. Your shoes on and helping you back up, Henry got his own shoes on, but paused as he opened the door for you and Kal. He glanced back at the hall closet. Biting his lip, he hurried over and grabbed the baby bag from inside, then dashed after you, putting the bag in the back as he got behind the wheel.

“Just in case.” He answered your lifted brow.

“Fair, I suppose.” You shrugged, unable to argue with his logic.

“How are you holding up, my love?” Henry asked, peeking into the kitchen, before shuffling over to you, sure his mother wouldn't shoo him out.

“My cookie restraint thinned dramatically after the second batch.” You confessed, looking around at all the Santa's, snowmen, candy canes and snowflakes that were either waiting to go into the oven or cooling. “However, your mum apparently anticipated this. Making me batch yesterday, so I could nibble on them, while we made these.”

Henry grinned, touched at his mother's thoughtfulness. “That was sweet of her.” He cooed, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. “Have you had any more pains?” He asked, his brows pinching slightly, worried.

“Nothing concerning.” You told him, closing your hand around his wrist. “You know I'd come get you.” You tried assuring him, giving him a soft smile. “Or your mum would, should my water break.” You giggled, a smile turning into a smirk.

“That's not funny, babe.” Henry snapped softly, eyes big.

You pressed your lips together, guilty, before pushing up on your bare toes, having taken off your shoes for the long standing in the kitchen, to press your lips against Henry's. “I'm sorry, Puppy.” You mumbled against them, before reaching around him, grabbing a finished Snowman, presenting it to his mouth in place of your own. “I baked and decorated this one myself.” You grinned at him, a glitter of pride in your eyes.

“Oh, did you?” He cooed, opening his mouth to admit the round biscuit of white icing, adorned with two black chocolate pearls for eyes and smaller black sugar pearls for a mouth. It had a carrot nose, made of orange icing and the upper crown of the biscuit was covered in purple, blue and white hundreds and thousands, then outlined with silvery snowflake-shaped sprinkles.

Taking the biscuit from you, Henry nibbled on it, already knowing it would be delicious, since you had made it with his family's age-old recipe. “You know.” He mumbled around his mouthful. “I can't wait to share these with our little guy.” He said, smirking down at the bake, before glancing around the kitchen.

“Well, technically, I've already done that.” You giggle, running your hand over the globe of your belly.

Henry snorted loudly, his smirk growing. “You have me there, my love.” He replied, finishing his treat off, reaching out to lay his hand on your stomach as he saw the moments of your son shift, pressing either an elbow or knee out. “Still trips me out to see him move inside of you.” He commented, feeling something around nudge against his palm.

“You should feel it from this end.” You huffed, making a face at the kicks as he tumbled about, prodding a heel into your ribs and a shoulder into your slowly screaming bladder. “Poor bud is running out of space in there.” You cooed, moving your hand to cup the underside of your stomach.

“That he is.” He agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to your belly. “But, soon he'll be out here with us.”

“Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill.”

A cold chill washed down Henry's back, making the little hairs on his neck stand up as he straightened. “Mum.” He squeaked, looking at her over your shoulder.

“You know the rules of setting foot in my kitchen, while we bake.” Marianne scolded her second youngest.

“I do.” He nodded, biting his lip as he half smirked at her. “I was just checking up on her and our little one.” He explained, motioning to you.

Marianne's gaze shifted, her soft and kind blue eyes looking you over. She had noticed the few contractions you'd experience while helping her bake, and had sharpened her eye on you even more. Everyone in the family had a side eye on you it seemed, with your due date so nearby, like they were concerned you would pop like a water balloon.

“I'm fine.” You sighed softly, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Then, you can pop out of our kitchen.” Marianne said, cocking a brow at her son.

You chuckled, loving the nonchalance she had. “We'll see you later, my dear.” You cooed at him, kissing the corner of his mouth, tasting the sugar on his lips and inciting a need for another cookie from your stash. “Off you go.” You giggled, patting him on the chest and set your eyes on your task.

Henry looked at his mother with a pointed look, gesturing towards you, to which Marianne answered with a roll of her eyes and picked up a sheet of cookies needing to go into the oven.

“My back is to you, Henry, not my senses.” You shot over your shoulder, cutting out more cookies from the dough.

“Christ alive, our son has his work cut out for him.” He chuckled, winking at you as he turned to leave and rejoin his brothers and dad in the living room.

You looked over at Marianne and laughed, your mother-in-law joining in, the two of you amused he didn't realize you'd seen her roll her eyes.

“That boy.” Marianne chuckled, shaking her head as she moved to stand beside you, helping portion out the raw dough.

“He's freaked out.” You commented, gently laying a Santa on the sheet.

“Understandably.” She answered, wielding the snowflake cutter with skill. “The first baby is always the most stressful, and Henry's wanted to be a father for a very long time.”

“I know he has.” You nodded, feeling your stomach lightly bump the edge of the counter. “I'm happy and excited for our little one.” You told her, wadding up the scrap dough, then picked up a rolling pin. “I'm definitely ready not to be pregnant anymore.” You snorted, smiling faintly.

“And your worries?” Marianne asked, tilting her head at you, without pausing her work.

You drew in a slow, deep breath. “I'm worried about the labor. I'm terrified about whether or not I'll make a good parent.” You confessed to her, letting your breath out. “I know Henry will, he's incredible with kids. I love watching him with his younger fans, with his nieces and nephews.” You gush, grinning at the flashes of memories. “Seeing him hold Ellie, when we first met her--” You shook your head, a bubble of emotions overwhelming you for a moment, til you cleared your throat.

“You'll be a great mother.” Marianne reassured you, running her hand up and down your back. “You have nothing to worry about there. You'll have me and your mum to help you, as well as Heather and all the other girls.”

“I know.” You nodded, resting your shoulder against hers. “And I appreciate it, with all my heart.”

“Why don't you go upstairs, to Henry's old room, and rest for a bit?” She suggested to you. “I can finish the cookies with Heather.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, glancing around the organized chaos of the kitchen.

“Yes.” She nodded, resting her hands on your shoulders and turning you away from the counter. “You and my grandson need all the rest you can get.” She directed you towards the entry of the kitchen. “Soon, you won't have it.”

Henry saw his mum guiding you and instantly jumped up from the couch, where he sat beside his brother Simon. “Are you all right, honey?” He cooed, his handsome face pinching.

“She's fine, Henry.” Marianne replied, looking up at him. “She just needs to rest a bit. Take her upstairs.”

“All right.” He nodded, taking your arm and showed you upstairs to the bedroom that was his as a kid. “Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe.” He asked, helping you lay back on the made, full-size bed.

“I'm all right, Puppy.” You sighed, rubbing your face.

“What's wrong, honey?” He asked, pulling up a chair from the desk in his room and sat down in front of you.

“Nothing's wrong.” You replied, sighing, flexing your plump toes as Henry grasped your foot in his hands. “I'm just tired and sore.” You told him, closing your eyes as you let out a soft moan, feeling Henry's thumbs work your arch.

“I got the Dad Talk from my dad and brothers.” He chuckled, gently touching the tip of your toes, each painted a cute red color, that he had done himself about a week before.

He had started giving you little at home, medi-pedis to treat you to something nice. Though, it had taken him a couple tries to get painting your nails down. Admitting it wasn't as simple as painting his Warhammer Minis, like he'd thought.

You giggled back, smirking. “Did they?” You hummed, letting your eyes fall shut. “Any good advice?”

“Um, Simon said that I should explain my job to him as soon as we think he can understand it.” Henry recalled, biting his lip with an amused smirk pulling across his mouth. “So, we don't have another Thomas Incident on our hands.”

“My dad's Sherlock Holmes!” You replied, laughing aloud. “Or god-knows who else!”

“Exactly.” He nodded, amused by it too. “My dad suggested, should we have any more kids, to have girls, that way it doesn't continue on the Cavill boy madness, like dead arms and throwing each other off the couch.”

“I would like, at least, one girl, anyway.” You told him, laying your hand on your stomach, feeling your son shift and kick again, wincing as he did.

“Same.” He smirked, as excited as he was for a son, he had wanted a girl too. “Maybe the next one.”

“Mmm.” You hummed back, falling silent and drifting slightly.

Taking the hint, Henry rested your legs in his lap and leaned back, closing his own eyes to rest. Both of you were exhausted from the months of preparation for the baby, all the worrying about if you would be good parents and protecting your son against the world of social media and paparazzi. But the pair of you had only laid there for twenty or so minutes, before you jerked at a sharp pain, inadvertently kicking Henry in the stomach as you did.

Henry gasped and groaned at the blow, doubling over. “Babe?” He rasped, frowning across at you, finding you half sitting up, hand cupping the underside of your stomach with a look of shocked horror on your face. “What's wron—oh shit!” He snapped, seeing the wet patch seeping through your leggings and onto the duvet on the bed.

“Was that--”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, gulping thickly.

“It's okay, all right.” He nodded, running both hands through his curls. “Up we go.” He said, holding his shaking hands out to you, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Broke your water on my childhood bed.” He commented offhandedly, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“It is where we had our first kiss.” You added, lifting a brow at him. “Why not this too!”

“Mum!” Henry called out as you reached the bottom of the stairs. “We have to go.” He said as Marianne rounded the corner from the living room. “Someone's water broke.”

“Oh gosh!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Go hurry!” She shooed the two of you towards the door, before spinning on her feet. “Code blue everybody!” She shouted at the family gathered in the living room, snapping them into gear, sending brothers and in-laws scrambling everywhere.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Henry asked as he helped you buckle your seatbelt.

“Like I just peed myself.” You snorted, clutching your belly. “Henry.” You cooed at him, watching him make jerky movements but not move from your side. “Hen!” You called, reaching out to grab his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

“Huh?” He whimpered, blinking a few times.

“My shoes are still in the house.” You informed him, offering your sweet partner a smile.

“Oh right!” He nodded, kissing your hand and backing away to close your door, then raced back inside, running into a gaggle of his family fighting to put on shoes and coats. “Excuse me, pardon me!” He barked, diving into the huddle, scrabbling for your shoes.

“Henry!” Nik shouted after him.

“I forgot her shoes!” Henry yelled over his shoulder, pelting back to the car. “Got them!” He smiled, sliding home into the driver's seat and dropping them onto the center console. “I'll put them on you, when we get to the hospital.” He told you, starting the car and pulling away from the curb, while ordering Alexa to map the route to Jersey General Hospital, the very hospital where he and his brothers had been born.

“Speed limit, Cavill!” You reminded him, frowning.

“Baby!”

“He's not going to pop out right now!!”

“He could!

“Between the two of us, Hank, I'm damn sure he's not!” You snapped back, through a contraction. “Deep b-breaths! ” You wheezed, through the pain.

“Relax your shoulders, don't clench your jaw, take a deep breath in....and let it out!” Henry reciting your Douala and doing the technique with you. “Amazing, baby doll. I'm so proud of you.”

“Jesus Christ on a motorbike.” You sighed as the pain faded. “We're waiting at least three years before we have our daughter.” You panted over at him.

“Yes, ma'am.” Henry laughed, holding his hand out to you. “Whatever you want.”

“I know what we should name him.” You said, softly.

“Oh?” He replied, pulling into the hospital parking lot. “What?”

You looked over at him, your expression soft. “I want to name him, Charlie.” You told him, biting the corner of your lip, you'd put a lot of consideration into it over your pregnancy. “We wouldn't have met, if your brother didn't nag you to come talk to me at that club.”

Biting his lip, a heart shaped lump thumping in his throat. “You're right.” He whispered; voice raw.

Charlie had prodded him for an hour, while supplying him with shots of liquid courage, to finally cross the club you both were in. You were with your friends, blowing off steam after a long work week, and Henry, Charlie and two other friends of Henry's were just hanging out, since he was in town and not working on any projects.

He never forgot the look on your friends' faces as he approached your table, recognizing him, melting into the dark leather of your corner booth and mumbling to each other with hungry, googly eyes. But you, while surprised a celeb was approaching you, hadn't fawned over him, like they did. You'd kept your cool, with jittery insides. Henry politely acknowledged everyone at the table, but his blue eyes were set on you. He asked, trying to have a persona of cool and calm, if he could get you a drink, noting on the way over, yours was empty, and with relief, you'd said yes. So, you dislodged yourself from your friends and followed him to the bar. Striking up a conversation with him, that moved to an empty table, after getting your drinks and lasted until the announcement the club was closing, at two am.

Neither of you had wanted to move apart, but it was late and you both knew it. So, you exchanged numbers and texted while you got yourselves home, then fell asleep. Making the promise to have a proper dinner the next day.

All of which snowballed to this moment. Sitting in the car at the hospital, married and staring at each other between contractions, discussing the name you wanted for your first born, for your son.

“It's perfect.” He nodded, reaching out to cup your cheek. “I could ask for nothing more for Christmas, than you and our son, for Charlie.” He choked up, leaning across to kiss you deeply.

@winter2112rose / @littlefreya / @kemillyfreitas / @thereisa8ella / @courtlynwriter / @starfirewildheart / @beck07990 / @goldenirishpotato / @pipsqueakkitten

#viking-raider fics #A Christmas Miracle #A Christmas Miracle *Fic*#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill RPF #British Actor RPF #Fluff #Cotton Candy Fluff #Christmas Fluff #Christmas Story #Christmas Fic #new fic #henrycavill #In-Laws

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strawberrypinky · 18 days

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I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed with negativity on the internet recently and thus I've decided to take matters into my own hands and spread some ✨love and positivity✨

And what better way to do that, than to recommend wonderfully written fanfiction I've come across this year? Admittedly, I haven't read as much as I would have liked, but I still want to share the few I did read. So without further ado, here are my fic recs of 2024 (thus far! Might add to this along the line):

Baldur's Gate 3 Fic recs:

O Fortuna [by @gufu-vire] on AO3 - Raphael x Dark Urge ❦ Plot: Post the events of BG3, a redeemed Dark Urge and Raphael renegotiate terms to fulfil a contract sworn upon during the crisis of the Absolute. An adventure fraught with tension, frustration, conflict, and more as the reader partners up with the devil you love to hate…

This is possibly a very biased mention on this list, because I consider Goof a very dear friend and moot, but it is a deserved spot nonetheless! I have yet to catch up with a majority of the chapters, but I'm enjoying a lot of sneak peeks and Gufu's creative process in private in the meantime. Between the conflict this story is utterly hilarious and witty and is a perfect balance between action and idle affairs. There are also so many intriguing takes on Raphael as a character & Harleep deserves a trophy on his own. I could talk a lot about this story, but truly, I cannot recommend it enough!

❦

Sleep Deprivation - [by @nyda-the-tav & Aisln] on AO3 - Gortash x Tav ❦ Plot: As Orin continues to harass the group of misfits trying to stop the Absolute, Ophelia (Tav) looks for safety in the arms of Gortash in an effort to combat sleep deprivation.

I've only recently started reading this story & both authors best believe that once I've caught up with all 50(!) chapters, I'll leave a more detailed review for Sleep Deprivation. But what I've read thus far has been nothing short of a joy, and I'm always down for a good Tav being absolutely ruined by Gortash himself. The dynamic between the supposed enemy and the hero is gripping, hilarious and not to mention really well written! Kudos to the authors! I'm really excited to read more of what you two come up with!

❦

His Star - His Queen [by @random-introverted-blog] on AO3 - Astarion x Tav/Astarion x Dark Urge ❦ Plot: An ascended Astarion kidnaps the Dark Urge/Tav from a different timeline, after loosing her in his. Desperate to save Tav/Durge from himself, Astarion follows her to rescue his love from certain suffering at his own hands.

I was recommended this story on TikTok (of all places, lol) and I wasn't sure what to expect - but holy shit. The first chapter alone had me on the edge of my seat, as you're really thrown into the action from the start, but the entire premise had me hooked as soon as Ascendant Astarion made his appearance. I often have issues with the ascended version of Astarion's character (I just looooove fixing him & I've got issues with the 'make him worse' story arc), but the exploration of what could have been in tandem with trying to save the heroine from inevitable suffering is beautiful & I can't recommend it enough. I've yet to catch up with every chapter (can you tell I've got trouble keeping up with fics, lmfao?) but either way, "His Star - His Queen" is deservedly on this list!

Note: This fic includes non-consensual sexual content

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Judgement by the Hounds [by @septembersummer] on AO3 - Gortash x The Dark Urge ❦ Plot: A look into the relationship of The Dark Urge (Seren) and Gortash, from their first meeting up to their shared end. "The rise and fall of the worst situationship of all time" indeed.

This one I actually finished (very slay), though I'm not sure I actually processed it. I went through all five stages of grief reading this and I'm not even sure I can say anything without spoiling the entire premise. Dear author, you have written possibly the most captivating and enchanting portrayal of Durge and Gortash & though I knew how it would end, I was wishing for a happy end through it all. There's nothing to say about this, other than it was utter perfection.

❦

Miscellaneous One Shot recommendations:

legacy with no memory by @discordsmuse on AO3 - Gortash x The Dark Urge The Weight of A Promise by @sserpente on tumblr [Part 2 is equally good!] - Gortash x Tav/OC kiddo. by @avocado-writing on tumblr. - Gortash & OC

to have and to hold by @littlejuicebox on tumblr. - Astarion x Tav

choices. by @deadtired-highkeyenergetic on tumblr - Astarion x Tav

how to win a custody battle in one easy step. by alltears on AO3 - Astarion x Tav

Dangerous by NaeveTheWizard on AO3 - Astarion x The Dark Urge

❦

Honourable Mentions:

I'm also giving a shout-out to @avani-telvanni & @infernaldaydreams, because while neither have written fanfiction I could recommend, I am obsessed with their respective artworks for Tav x Gortash/Durge x Gortash. You guys are absolutely amazing and I'm conistently in awe of what you create. You deserve all the recognition you receive and more 💕

Hogwarts Legacy Fic rec's: a very short list, but two are dear to me nonetheless!

Victory [by @jonquil] on AO3 - Victor Rookwood x Original Female Character ❦ Plot: Victor Rookwood is enraptured by the new, ancient-magic-wielding student attending Hogwarts - and Victor Rookwood always comes out on top.

Technically I started reading "Victory" in 2023, when it first came out, alas, it was finished earlier this year and I couldn't help but include it, because it remains one of my favourite fanfiction ever. To me, it's the best fictionalisation of "Enemies to Lovers" in a long time, as I was rooting for the villain to win from start to finish. From the wonderful characterisation of Rookwood to the alternative canon timeline and ultimately the victory of the villain - there's nothing like it and I was hooked from start to finish. I am still sad it's over, but I'm excited to read the prequel (as soon as I get to it, lmfao), because I know it'll be equally spectacular!

Note: This fic contains non-consensual sexual content.

❦

Invisible String [by @legacygirlingreen] on tumblr (though it can be found on both AO3 and wattpad too!) - Sebastian Sallow x Reader ❦ Plot: In an alternative, victorian-attitude-compliant timeline, Sebastian Sallow falls for the new fifth-year. This story explores the sweet beginnings of a tender love amidst hardships and battles ahead.

Admittedly, this is possibly the most biased fic rec ever, but I stand behind it nonetheless. While this fic started in March of last year & brought me and my platonic soulmate May, aka legacygirlingreen, together, it remains my favourite Sebastian Sallow fic to this day. The amount of love, time and creativity May put into this has me in awe time and time again. The sweet and tender love the two protagonists experience is perfectly fluffy and slice-of-life, yet the alternative version of the canon events of Hogwarts Legacy add the perfect amount of drama and action. I will always come back to this fic, because yes - It is that good.

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

Text

VALENTINE’S DAY.

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: on valentine's day everything seems to have a discount for couples, so why not pretend to be one to save some money and have fun?

content warnings: fake dating trope, hurt/comfort, pining, some mildly suggestive content, confessions.

note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first ever works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually a request sent to me from a prompt list i can’t find anymore, and it was about sirius black. i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

“YOU SHOULD COME WITH US.” your friend maris says, applying lipstick in front of her mirror.

“and be the third wheel?” you ask from your spot on her bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “it’s bad enough you are dating my brother.” sighing, you toss the magazine having lost all your attention. “besides, i’m sure aegon and aemond are on their way.”

at the sound of their names, cregan’s head appears in the door. “you didn’t hear?”

“what?” you roll your eyes.

“aegon has a date.” the couple says, looking at each other, and then you.

“he what? fucking traitor.” you get up, going for your phone. “didn’t even have the decency to tell me. but he’s go—aemond is calling me… i swear to the seven if he’s going to cancel our plans i’m goin’ to kill myself.”

cregan laughs, calling you a dramatic as he walks away.

“you heard?”

aemond laughs. “yea’, i played matchmaker.”

“aemond?!”

“stop being so dramatic, i’m on my way.”

“and who the fuck is his date?” you ask again.

you hear him sigh, but you really want to know who’s this girl your friend is ditching you for. “just a friend.” his answer doesn’t make you feel better at all. it’s silly but this tradition of the three of you eating junk food and watching slasher movies has been going on for three years. it all started the valentine’s day your useless ex-boyfriend dumped you and both of them cancelled their dates to stay with you. you never really thought this day would come.

“it’s okay, just one more reason to be mad about.” you collapse on the couch, going immediately for the remote to search for a movie. “you bringing the food, right?”

“about that…” you sigh, ready to be stood up. “maybe we should go out.”

“what?”

“just make sure to be ready by the time i get there.”

then the call cuts out.

maris and cregan look puzzled at you, asking what’s going on without actually asking. you shrug and that is the only answer you give them, because you really don’t know what his plans are.

and not even five minutes have passed when aemond is knocking on the door.

an expression of pure terror crosses your face and before cregan opens the door, you run to maris’ bedroom.

“what’s going on?” she asks, her dress half buttoned.

“aemond said something about going out,” you explain while going through her clothes. “and m’not going out in sweatpants.”

you find a red skirt that goes with one of your tops and with a little help from your raven-haired friend you have as a roommate, ten minutes later, with an “are you done?” coming from the living room, you are ready to go to wherever your friend is taking you.

aemond is chatting with cregan, neither of them aware of your presence, so you take the time to look at him… like really look at him.

he’s wearing his leather jacket, the one he got during sixth year at boarding school and hasn't taken off since then, the same one you used to see girls wearing all around campus when he was with them. never the same girl twice. aemond is dressed entirely in black and you can see his chest peeking out from his button down.

aemond catches you staring and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, only to show you what’s behind his back; a bouquet of roses. it’s part of the tradition but it still makes your heart beat faster. you accept it with a smile, smelling them and leaving the bouquet on the table.

you pout, crossing your arms. “are you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“nope, let’s go.” aemond grabs your arm, dragging you out of there.

“no, seriously, he’s kidnapping me and you’re not doing anything.” you protest, looking back at your brother who just laughs, waving you goodbye. “i’m telling mom and dad!”

the door closes behind you and you let him walk you out of the building.

“aaand?” you ask once more, walking down the street, your arm around his.

you see couples everywhere, a few of them with flowers and balloons, holding hands, radiating love. and a part of you wishes for something like that. maybe not the balloons and a lot less cheesy, but the commitment, the tender love, someone with whom you can share your thoughts with, your nights, your future. you want to feel the passion, the need to have someone kissing every part of you, worshiping your body, sleepless night with bodies intertwined. you don’t want a one-night thing; you want it all.

“there’s a restaurant with discount for couples and is giving dessert for free.” his lilac eye looks straight into yours, a lopsided smile on his face. “and i was thinking about eating there, then bring dessert home and watch texas chain saw massacre on your couch.”

“that sounds like a great idea.” you smile, walking beside him a little more excited than before.

“you know we’ll have to pretend to be a couple, right?” he stops walking.

you roll your eyes. “know your limits.”

“i’m serious!”

“i know you've been dying to kiss me since forever, but that’s only going to happen in your dreams.”

he brings a hand to his chest, feigning sadness. “you are cruel.”

you slap his arm, pushing him aside. “fine, but keep your hands to yourself. i’m not one of your groupies.”

“you could be.”

“in your dreams.” he just laughs, walking by your side.

neither of you spoke again, but every time his arm grazed against yours a cold shiver ran down your spine. and that is something you haven’t felt since seventh year, when you walked in on aemond having sex with a girl and couldn’t look him in the eyes for weeks. you weren’t exactly quiet, dropping the books was what gave you away, and the girl was focused on something else, that being her body being pushed against the bed, so the only one who saw you was him. you’d think he would stop, maybe feel embarrassed, right? that is not aemond targaryen. he just kept doing it, eye focused on yours, on the way you held your breath when he moved his pelvis a certain way making her cry out. you were frozen in place, your eyes going from the spot where their bodies met to his eyes, and it was only when he moaned something that sounded a lot like your name, you got out of there.

you couldn’t look at him, opting instead on avoiding him and all the questions from your friends. eventually, what you saw was left in the past, even though he tried to talk about it you didn’t give him the chance. you couldn’t. even if a part of you wanted to know what he was going to say, even if you spent the rest of the year dreaming about it, wishing to be one of those girls. even if you still want to be one of those girls.

“oh gods.” you say, stopping in front of a sushi restaurant full of valentine’s day decorations.

the host greets you and aemond immediately gets into character, hand going to your lower back, right where your top meets the skirt, leaving a few centimeters of bare skin. your whole body reacts at that and it’s like touching the sun.

the whole place is full of heart-shaped balloons hanging from the ceiling, the tables have red tablecloths with red roses in vases, and each one of them is named after a romcom.

“your table.” the host smiles, stepping aside.

“no strings attached? really?” you could cry at how cheesy, awkward and stupid everything is.

“i wanted that one with matthew mcconaughey because it is your favorite, love. but it was already taken.” he seems genuinely sad and you smile, fixing the collar of his button down.

“it’s okay, aem.” you kiss his cheek. “thank you.” you give the man standing in front of you a smile and sit in the booth. it’s discrete and you are grateful for that, not wanting to pretend the whole time you are going to be there, afraid of arousing suspicion.

“your waiter is going to be here any minute. if you’ll excuse me.” the host walks away and you can finally breathe normally.

aemond sits beside you and when you make eye contact, it’s impossible not to laugh.

“i can’t believe we are doing this.” you hide behind your hands, making him laugh even more.

“i knew you’ll like it.” aemond winks at you. “no, but really, i can’t believe how they do this.”

“and how people like it.” you pretend to throw up, and he laughs again. “but at the same time it’s kind of cute?”

“are you serious?”

“it’s cute to see couples enjoying this day, going to restaurants like this and enjoy each other’s company.” you shrug, playing with the rose petals, avoiding eye contact.

“you want that?” he asks, moving closer, creating a bubble around the two of you.

“yeah.” this time you look up, meeting his eye looking intently at you. “i’ve wanted it for a long time, but i think i’m not made for that.”

aemond must see the sadness on your face, because he places his hand on top of yours. you smile, feeling the sudden urgency to run your fingers through his hair.

“i know the right guy for you is out there, maybe you just need to pay more attention.”

“you think so?” you lean towards him, whispering.

“maybe what you’re looking for is… right in front of you.”

you smell the cigarettes and peppermint on his breath and are almost able to see and count all the freckles on his face, you just need to move a little closer to know if his lips are as soft as they seem.

“aemond targaryen?”

a third voice startles both of you, and just like that the moment has passed.

a blonde girl stands in front of the table and by the pad and pencil in her hands you know she’s the waiter. she has green eyes and a bright smile addressed to aemond.

“do you—you known each other?” you ask when a minute has passed and none of them has said a word.

“um, yeah.” aemond moves away from you, hands resting on his thighs.

“i think the word known falls short.” the girl giggles and you want to throw up.

“i thought you were off tonight.” it’s like you are invisible for him right now.

in any other circumstance you wouldn’t care, but not today. not right now, not after what almost happened a moment ago, because you’re a hundred percent sure that if this girl hadn’t shown up you two would be doing a totally different thing.

“i didn’t know you were in a relationship.” her green eyes look at you. “i mean, if i’d known i wouldn’t have gone to your apartment yesterday.” there’s poison in her words, she’s doing it on purpose to hurt you, and succeeding.

you chuckle, closing your eyes. why does it hurt?

aemond says something and you immediately let your guard down, allowing you to believe, and wish, and dream about things that most likely aren’t going to happen. ever.

you thought the little crush you used to have on your brother’s best friend had vanished, but one night with him was enough to know that aemond targaryen still has power over you. that’s why you are never alone with him; you don’t trust yourself.

you never made a big deal about it until that incident in seventh year. that was the moment everything changed. but you were able to get over it, or so you thought.

“it’s okay.” you smile, trying not to look at aemond at all. “we’re just pretending, aemond wanted to get the discount.”

she giggles again. “couples only, sorry.” she doesn’t look sorry at all. “i’ll give you time to look at the menu.” with a flirty little smile, she disappears.

“why did you do that?” aemond asks, touching your arm for a second before you move away. you don’t want him to think something’s wrong, but it’s a little hard for you to pretend you’re not hurt.

“did what?” you play dumb, pretending to look at the menu.

“why did you tell her we’re not together?”

you frown. “’cause we’re not? and you had sex with her yesterday, if we’re going to pretend at least let me have some dignity.”

“you are getting it all wrong.” he huffs, running his hands through his hair. “if you let me explain—”

“you have nothing to explain, aemond.” you say, looking at him and trying to swallow the urge to scream. “i know how you are, we’re friends, remember?”

“but—”

“you know what? i think i would rather order something from mcdonald’s and call it a night.” smiling, you touch his hand trying to make it look like everything’s okay and you don’t want to jump in front of the blonde girl and scratch her face. “you are more than welcome to join.”

you don’t give him time to say something else, standing and walking out of the restaurant in less than a minute. not bothering to look back to know if he’s following, all you want to do is choke on ice cream and watch a movie, the thing you should be doing tonight in the first place.

the night is cold, but it helps to clear your mind.

you’re not even a block away, when his voice makes you stop in your tracks. “i like you.”

you’re surprised by his confession, even a little flame of hope taking place in your heart.

“tonight was supposed to be fun.” aemond sighs, and you know he’s scratching his neck, something he usually does when he’s nervous. “but i messed everything up.”

you stopped breathing after his first confession, but you still can’t turn around because you’re a coward, not sure what to do with a confession you have been dying to hear for so many years.

“i didn’t have sex with her.” you hear his footsteps and, in a second, he’s in front of you, his fingers lifting your chin up, lilac eye locked fixed on your face. “and haven’t had any in a very long time.”

“what?” you can’t hide the surprise in your voice.

he chuckles. “i know i haven’t been good at showing it, but i’ve had a crush on you since forever.”

“stop messing with me, aemond.” you don’t want to believe him, you really want to walk past him and forget this night happened at all. but the part inside of you that still wants this to be real, won’t let you.

“m’not!” both his hands are now on each side of your face, the only thing you can see is his good eye, his lips, the longing on his face. “i’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time… seventh year, to be exact.”

your eyes open a lot more at that. “are you—”

“yes.” he chuckles, his cheeks a soft pink. “it was stupid, but i thought you would take the hint. after all, i moaned your name on purpose.”

“shut up!” your face is burning, you don’t even need a mirror to know you’re blushing hard. “you were having sex with another girl, aemond.”

“but i was thinking of you.”

“that does not make me feel better, y’know.” you step away from him, taking some distance.

“i know, i’m an idiot.”

you silently agree, not jnderstand anything, tonight has been a blurry, a lot of things happening in so little time. old feelings resurfacing, jealousy, heartbreak, happiness.

“but i like you too, idiot.”

his face lights up. “i knew.”

“you—what?” you frown, heart about to get out of your chest.

“i had a feeling.” he shrugs, slowly getting closer to you again, making sure you are not running away this time.

“are you serious?”

“i think i just buried ‘em because was sure nothing was ever going to happen. you were, well, you. and i was not willing to suffer because of those feelings.” your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers interlocking in his soft hair.

“i always thought you deserved much better. and i was a total coward, too afraid of not being what you expected.” he smiles, his hands going to your waist and caressing your soft and delicate skin, still burning for his touch. “and i kept denying it and denying it. denying that my heart beats faster every time you walk into a room, that i want to kiss you every time you laugh, every time you make fun of cregan, or cry watching animal planet, or talk about what you like and don’t like. that the only thing i’ve wanted for years has been to hold you in my arms and touch every part of your body, to make you feel what i feel. to show you what love really means, to show you things you haven’t experienced before. and just… to be by your side.”

all you feel is him, his calloused hands creating patterns on your bare skin, his peppermint breath, his warm, rich, woody scent engulfing you. and for the first time in years, you let those feelings rise to the surface. you let yourself burn for aemond targaryen.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #prince aemond x reader

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sapphia · 1 year

Note

Hey friend, I hope I can ask a favour from you. I’m a black non-binary lesbian going through a tough phase as Both of my parents are openly homophobic and transphobic. I've organised a crowdfunding to solicit for support to evacuate my home, it's been help for me. Please consider to donate to my pinned link on my profile if you can Reblog and share my pin post to reach a large audience with support . Anything helps at the moment.🙏❤️

Alright everyone, time for an impromptu lesson on how to spot scam asks!

The first sign that this message is a scam is honestly that someone is sending me this message at all, especially since I don't interact with the person enough to recognise their name. I'm sure that 99.9% of donation messages will be spam messages set up by accounts specifically designed to get money out of people, enough that I will delete these by default. I don't think I've ever had a genuine one. But if messages like this tug on your heartstrings enough to want to find out, let me show you how to do that.

The first warning sign is that I'm not following them. Maybe they're a longtime follower of my account though, and I might want to help them in that case, so to check that, I go to my account page, scroll down to the blog that was sent the message, and click on followers.

There I can type in alicesgarcia's blog name in the search, to see if she's following me. But I don't have to because I can see that she's right at the top of my follower list. This is a bad sign--it means she's followed me recently. To check this, I go to my notes and filter for followers only.

I left my ask notifications on too, and from this, I can see they actually sent me the ask BEFORE they followed me. Definitely a scam.

But let's say I want to go deeper. Maybe they're not my follower, but perhaps they are a genuine long-time tumblr user in a hard time--after all, they're a black non-binary lesbian with bigoted parents. That's all of my weak spots in one! I really want to support someone in that situation (Which, of course, I do, I'm on tumblr. This scam is highly targeted, and they s know what will get my sympathy).

So let's check out her blog. She's got a lot of posts, but they're all photo posts, which is another red flag. Though I'm scrolling and scrolling, most of the posts were made 1 day ago, with another big dump 5 days ago. There's a LOT of posts, too much to scroll through. This is deliberate, to make her look legit and discourage people from seeing the date of her first post. But by offsetting posts hundreds at a time (see address bar), I can find her first post.

And there we go--their first post was made five days ago. Definite scam. These are all huge red flags, but you don't need every one of them to tell you it's a scam. Any single one of these should have given me enough doubt that I would just click the block button. New follower? Scam. New blog? Scam. Blog all one type of post? Scam. No interaction with other blogs? Scam. Even the fact that she was so vulnerable and marginalised is a huge warning sign (you're being targeted), as is the fact that her blog just doesn't make her feel like a real person.

Look for ALL of these things. A good scam might set up a blog a month in advance and make personalised posts to gain your trust, or get the login of an old blog and use their age to make them look legit. Keep digging, and keep making sure that what you're seeing tracks with this being a real person in genuine need.

And if you're going to signal boost, even if you're not donating your own money, PLEASE do these basic steps before you post or reblog. Let's protect each other from this.

#scam #psa #alicesgarcia #fraud #scams

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

Text

Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)

Maybe it was never a change of heart

Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed

Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.

Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.

The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.

"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.

Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.

"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.

"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.

Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.

Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.

You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.

And I'll dream each night of some version of you

That I might not have, but I did not lose

"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.

"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.

"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.

On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.

"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.

"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.

It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.

It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.

It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.

Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.

You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.

"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.

Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.

"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.

Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.

"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.

"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.

Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.

He was young but not dumb, truly.

"Feels like I have though", Lando added.

"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.

"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.

"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.

I hope this pain's just passin' through

You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.

So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.

It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.

A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.

The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.

Qatar Airways

Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!

Lando ✨️

I need you here with me, Y/N, please

I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️

You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined

Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.

You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.

You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?

Because Lando needed you there.

Simple as that.

Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.

"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.

"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.

"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.

"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.

"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.

"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.

"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.

"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.

"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.

"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.

Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.

"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.

Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.

"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.

"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.

"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.

"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.

"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".

"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.

"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.

Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.

When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.

You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.

"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.

"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.

When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.

"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.

Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.

"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.

"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.

"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.

You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.

"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.

"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.

You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.

"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.

"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.

"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.

"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.

"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.

"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.

"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.

"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.

"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.

Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.

One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.

His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.

Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.

When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.

As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.

Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.

As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.

Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.

As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.

"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.

"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.

"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.

"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.

"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.

"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.

"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.

"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.

Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.

"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.

"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.

Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.

"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".

"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.

"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.

"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".

"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.

"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.

"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".

It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.

"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.

After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.

"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.

"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.

The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.

"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".

"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.

"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.

As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.

"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.

Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.

"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.

From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.

"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.

"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.

Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.

Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.

"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.

"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.

As if you'd leave anyway.

4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.

As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.

"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.

"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".

"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.

"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.

Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.

"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".

"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.

"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".

Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.

"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.

"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.

His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.

"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.

"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.

"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.

Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.

You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.

"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.

You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".

Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.

"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.

"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.

"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.

“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.

Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.

“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.

Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.

"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.

Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.

"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.

"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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witchersoldier · 1 year

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Stars He Hung // part three

azriel x fem!reader

PART ONE PART TWO

SUMMARY: He hung the stars for you. Then he made you cry them all.

WARNINGS: (+16) angst, cursing, aggression, use of Y/N, fluff, bad and rushed writing, not proof read.

WORD COUNT: +1800

AUTHOR'S NOTE: English is not my mother tongue, so forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. Also I feel so sorry it took me almost one year to write and post this last bit. I don't even know how to feel about this one. It's like it's missing something, but I don't know what. I had other two versions of this, but this felt less worse 🫠

tag list (I don't even know if you guys still want a tag in this, but here we go): @clara-geekhime @yakoxshadow @feysandzoyalailover @tell-me-a-poem @positivewitch @marina468 @lucyysthings @peachy-aisha @starrsstruck-blog @lovelyladymayy

•••

Seconds, minutes, hours. I lost track of time. The memories I just now recovered punched me so hard into a loop of sorrow, rage and grief. Spiraling into the darkest emotions, but all I could see was light. Fucking starlight.

That agonizing tug at my heart and the torturous pain from being away from Azriel, it was all because of the mating bond. A mating bond he was aware of and simply choose to ignore. Did I really mean nothing to him? Nothing, to the point where he didn’t even try to reject it?

The air around me was suffocating, and the only thing keeping me grounded was my firm grip on the edges of the wooden dresser. A grip slowly loosening its strength. Inside me, all over my body I could feel something begging to crawl out of me. A power so strong and angry, itching to explode and wreak havoc. Begging to destroy the world outside just as much as I felt broken inside and I had no control over it. Panic begun creeping up my spine and star tears continued spilling out of my eyes. Rapid shallow breaths coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t think straight, but I knew I was doomed from the moment lilac tendrils of power slowly seeped from the tip of my fingers, then growing into my hands and arms and my chest, until it was wrapped around me entirely.

An alarmed pang echoed throughout my ribcage, centering me back in the room ever so slightly that I could hear faint shouts and footsteps. Suddenly, hands passed through the cocoon of power I trapped myself in and touched my forehead and cheeks, grabbed my arms and legs, lifting me off the ground. My sight was blurred and too bright, but I caught a glimpse of Rhysand’s once deep violet eyes, they’re so washed-out now. ‘Within the first five days, the colors you see will start to fade away’. The chance to reach out to the High Lord and beg for his help slipped with a gush of cold wind. Winnowed. Someone winnowed me away from the house and the people living there. Thankfully. Because as soon as I felt the ground beneath me again, a fraction of my power shattered through my veins and into the world.

★

My uncontrolled outburst was barred by shadows and a blue power shield that I recognized all too well. The Illyrian male I so naively fell for, the reason for all this troubled commotion, my mate. Azriel.

I looked up into his eyes, still so colorful. Strong honey irises staring back at me, bright with a bit of concern and fear. Of course it would go down like that; he would be the last thing to vanish, he would remain just to spite me.

Taking in my surroundings, I recognized Azriel had winnowed us just outside Rhys’ cabin in the Illyrian mountains. I also realized how close we were to each other, his hands holding me safely close to him, almost clinging onto me, as if in fear I’d collapse. I harshly slid my hands between us and up to his chest, pushing him as far and hard as I could, “Y/N, please” Azriel whispered, his soft voice mixed a bit with a husky tone. He dared take a step forward and as his hands tried to reach mine I noticed they were covered in fresh bruises. Despite of me knowing better and him not deserving my attention, I couldn’t help but still worry about it. As soon as he touched me I came to my senses again, feeling the unbearable heartache threatening to drown me and the star tears continuing to blind me. Sorrow, rage, grief, the need of revenge and closure making their way back, awakening the momentarily calm pit of power. I threw punch after punch after punch at Azriel’s body not really caring where they landed, just wanting them to make him hurt like you are. Each time my fist touched him, sparkles of lilac power flew. “Y/N/N, please, let me talk to you.” He pleaded, but didn’t try to stop my assaults. “Now you want to talk, huh?” I screamed at his face, angry sad tears cascading down my cheeks nonstop. “You just couldn’t have talked to me before you tore my heart apart, right mate?” spatting the word out with so much venom, I waited for his reaction. Azriel only accepted my accusations and blows, curling into himself. I could’ve sworn tears also ran from his eyes, but surely it was only my compromised vision playing trick on me, my wishful soul fantasizing about something that would never be. “You are my mate and you fucking knew it. If you didn’t want that burden, you could’ve rejected this damned bond and be done with it. Be done with me! But you just had to crush my heart that I willingly put in your hands, drop it to the ground and stomp on it. Why did you do it? Why do you hate me so much?” once again I had an outburst of power, that caught Azriel by surprise and sent him stumbling back, falling on the ground covered with a thin layer of snow.

I was so tired of feeling this way, so tired of hurting, being angry and pitying myself. All the need to put up a fight disappeared, so did my strength. “Did I really mean so little to you?” was the last thing I said before dropping to my knees and sobbing, my hands clutching my sweater right above my heart. With my throat sore from the screaming seconds prior, I managed to slowly whisper to him, “I used to look at you like you hung the fucking stars on the sky, but in reality you’re the one who made them fall. I reject the b-” Azriel got up from his place on the ground so fast, running to me and dropping back down on his knees, one by each side of me, caging me in and covering my mouth with one hand, the other resting on my thigh. Looking up and staring deep in his wet honey-colored eyes, I felt wave after wave of regret, anguish, self-doubt and hate. “All I ever wanted was to love and to be loved in return. But the moment love came to me, I cowered and messed it all up like the damned fuck-up I am. I know sorry won’t fix it, I know that I took everything from you, but please don’t take this from me. I love you” Azriel begged, tears brimming his eyes. His hand that covered my mouth joined his other one on my lap, absent-mindedly fidgeting. He kept silent expecting my response, but I couldn’t bring myself to form any phrase at the moment. I broke down in cries once again, feeling overwhelmed by my feelings and his.

Azriel wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me into his chest and caressing my arms and back. I didn’t fight against him, but rather relaxed in his embrace. “It’s okay baby girl, I got you now. I am so very sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry”, he cried to me as I cried to him. He just held me there, allowing me to gather my thoughts as he shares his deepest feelings. Taking in all his emotions he’s showing through the mating bond. How much he hated himself, how unworthy he felt, the way he denied and dismissed all good things thrown his way. Azriel was trapped in a horrifying loop of desiring, achieving, self-doubting and giving up.

Slowly I back up from his embrace, wishing to look into his eyes as I speak, “Trust is something so easily broken and so hard to mend,” I spoke with a soft yet firm voice, “but love is a feeling that can remain strong even through stormy weathers. And the love that I feel for you, though shaken up, remains, Az.” Azriel silently nods and gives a weak smile. I cup his cheeks with my hands, carefully wiping his tears away with my thumbs. Azriel is so much taller than me, but at this moment he couldn’t look smaller, sinking into his shame. “I understand the turmoil of feelings you kept to yourself until now, I see them and they are valid, Az. It saddens me to know how you feel about yourself, but you let those feelings affect people around you, too. And that can’t go on.” He mouthed a weak ‘I’m sorry’ and shrunk into himself even more. “I love you too, Azriel. But you broke my trust and you made me hurt in ways I can’t describe”, my voice cracked at the end of my sentence. That made Azriel look back into my eyes, “I know angel, and for that I am sorry.” He sighs and I can see him trying to form the correct phrases to express him feelings aloud. “You said that you used to look at me like I hung the fucking stars on the sky,” I let out a weak giggle when he quoted me like that, he gave me a small grin “but now I am the one who took them out” he paused for a moment, taking deep breaths before resting his forehead against mine, “Y/N, please let me hang the stars back up again. Bigger and brighter, this time.”

My eyes were glued to his, our breath mixing together because of how close we are to one another. Through the bond I can sense how nervous he is and how much truth is behind his words. Without hesitation I capture his lips on mine. I was so familiar with the feeling of kissing Azriel’s soft lips, but this time it was different. This kiss is meaningful, full of passion. His hands make their way to cup my wet cheeks, and mine find their place around his neck. My fingers lock into his soft hair, gently pulling at it. Azriel licks my lips, begging to deepen the kiss. I pull away before I can completely surrender myself to him. For a brief moment I can feel the anxiousness on Azriel’s ending, but it’s soon replaced with relief and love when I let him feel and see all of my emotions.

“You’re the other half of me Az. You are my mate and I love you, so much.” I told him, pouring a bit of my heart out to him. “And you’re the better part of me, my angel, my mate. I love you, and I will never let you forget that.” Happy tears made their way into my eyes, and I noticed the lack of light in them. My tears were just tears again. Because my love wasn’t unrequited anymore. Sure we have a long path to take until we can completely heal, many obstacles we will have to face. But at this moment, for tonight, all I can think of is the stars he will hang.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar imagine #stars he hung #azriel angst

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 7 months

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FNAF Movie Requests - CLOSED

Requests CLOSED as of November 16th, 2023.

(Requests are now closed, and I am keeping this request form up in case I have need for this again.)

So, I highly resisted the urge to fall into the fanfiction hole with the Five Nights At Freddy's Movie characters, but here I am lmao. Josh Hutcherson is so wonderfully sat, wet, and pathetic and I can't help myself.

I have tweaked my prompt list for this fandom, and you don't have to use these prompts when requesting fics, but please keep in mind that I am more likely to write and complete a request if it is simplistic and can be written in a shorter fic. I aim to keep request fics under two thousand words (around three thousand words at most).

Characters I write for: Mike Schmidt, Vanessa Monroe (Afton), and William Afton (Steve Raglan). (I may also write platonic fics with animatronic characters if people want to see that?)

Note: I will be writing for the movie version of the characters, but because I am a fan of the games, I am not against making references to the games and playing around with the canonicity. I care much more about the themes of the games than any solid sense of canon.

Requests can be sent to my ask box here or to my ask box over on my writing blog @sundrop-writes - I am probably not going to get to requests right away because unfortunately I am feeling sick right now, but I wanted to post this request form to help me get inspired. Please read all the rules/guidelines below before sending in a request.

(More information below the cut - please read it before requesting.)

(Also - warning, this prompt list technically does have some mild spoilers for the movie.)

I will accept requests for poly ships. (Character x reader x character.) I love requests like this - I think for this fandom, the only one that really works is Vanessa x Reader x Mike (which is one that I would really love to do), but under certain circumstances, with the right request, I might write Mike x Reader x William.

In your request, please specify if the reader character is female, male, or gender neutral. When I write gender neutral fics, I do not describe what kind of genitals they have in any way, so I don’t write ‘GN AFAB’ reader fics. If you want the reader character to have a vagina, that would be a fem reader in my fics.

EDIT: Typically, I don't write for reader characters that have specific traits - like a specific race, height, described as having specific looks, etc. but my one exception to this rule is that I love writing plus sized/fat reader fics. I love spreading love for fat bodies, especially through fics, and I love making people feel good about their fatness through the gaze of a fictional character. So feel free to send in requests for a plus sized reader character, it's one of my favourite things to write!

I will write smut, angst, or fluff, but I mostly prefer writing smut or angst. When requesting smut, please specify if you want the characters to be dominant or submissive. In your request, write ‘sub!reader’ or ‘dom!reader’ or something like this to let me know. I am a big fan of writing submissive men, so know I don’t shy away from that, but I will write any dynamic as long as it’s properly communicated to me.

I will for a lot of dark topics and different kinks. In general, the list of things that I won’t write is a lot shorter than the list of that I will. So if you’re wondering if a request is okay with me or not, just ask!

Just for reference, my big no-nos are: virgin!reader, sexually inexperienced!reader, or innocent!reader - I am okay with doing a ‘faux’ innocent reader or writing about the canon character being a virgin and having their first sexual experience with the reader. I am okay with writing about sexual cocercion, sexual blackmail, or dubcon.

Also, I don’t write fics about miscarriages, safeword use, or extreme choking kink. While I don’t write about miscarriage, I am okay with writing about pregnancy (and it’s something I enjoy writing about).

Smut Prompts/Ideas:

The canon character is a virgin (ex: virgin!Mike)

“Just the tip.”

Stuck and Fucked/Situational Bondage

Hate Fucking

There Was Only One Bed

Caught Masturbating

“Can you teach me how to do (blank)?” (ex: “Can you teach me how to give someone an orgasm?” “Can you teach me how to perform oral?”)

Late Night Semi-Public Sex (bathroom sex, kitchen counter sex, etc.) where they shove a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet (or purposefully try to make you scream)

Overstimulation

Breeding Kink (or Faux Breeding Kink with a Strap-On)

Extreme Dirty Talk

Phone Sex

Underwear Stealing

Them taking dirty pictures of you

Unknown surveillance/Perv!Canon Character/Them getting off to you doing something mundane

Dumbification Kink/Objectification

Daddy Kink or Mommy Kink (their reaction to being called Daddy or Mommy for their first time)

Them masturbating to the thought of you

(There is more kinks that I enjoy writing, but this is just all that I thought to add to this list)

Angst Prompts/Ideas:

(You should definitely send in some of these, I love writing angst but people don’t request it as often. I will even write hurt/comfort just to write the angst part, so you can send in a hurt/comfort request if you prefer.)

They break up with you to keep you away from danger (this one would work really well with Vanessa)

Attending to their injuries after a fight (or, them attending to your injuries after a fight)

You are attacked (verbally or physically) and they step in to save you

Their reaction to you being killed/your death (bonus angst: you died before they got to confess their feelings to you)

One of you has been brainwashed and completely forgets the other

(Directly inspired by the movie) - you are in a coma and they confess their feelings for you thinking that you can't hear them

They save you from a near-death experience (or you save them)

They find out you are alive after thinking you had died

Being reunited after years, but you didn’t part on good terms

“Who did this to you?”

Unrequited Love (they see you with someone else, they think that you’ll never love them back, etc.)

(For hurt/comfort, I can do any of these with a sappy ending!)

Fluff Ideas/Prompts:

They confess their love for you

Your first kiss together

They surprise you with a cute date

(I am really stalled for ideas for this list, I suck at writing pure fluff lmao)

(Again, you don’t have to use these prompts, I just think that these are good examples of things that will fit the 1k-2k mark.)

#sundrop speaks #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #vanessa monroe #vanessa monroe x reader #vanessa afton x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf movie fanfiction

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things-about-cars-in-posts · 7 months

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Miata Mod Master Mᴉsɥlᴉsʇ

[I had to spell Wishlist upside down to keep the alliteration going]

So, here's my first original post in quite a while. Apparently, the last one was a whole hundred followers ago - immense thanks to all 400 of you!!! And also, Tumblr informed me I got 1000 likes and kindly generated a picture for me to thank y'all for them with!

Given that's 2.5 likes per follower, I assume they mean 1000 likes just on my original posts, which would track considering most of my posts are additions, and liking all of those either counts towards that tally as just one like to my original post, or if you liked it through a reblog potentially nothing at all, because maybe likes to reblogs aren't counted even if they're reblogs of my own posts. But don't think I'm a numbers-chaser, this is just me wondering. Really, the only reason I even look at the activity chart of my blog is because I started trying to make that line as straight as possible for giggles (and then some of my posts blew up and ruined it, ecksdee). The thought of someone having enjoyed what I wrote has me smitten every time I see it, and I can barely even comprehend the idea that it happened a literal thousand times. I still can barely wrap my head around four hundred people all having decided they actively want to hear more from me. (Usually it's the opposite, har har.) I love all of you for it. The freaks, the puritans, the children (wait I just said that OOH GOTTEM), the adults, the uncomfortably weird, the hyper-organized users that use different blogs for each one of their passions, the hyper-random users that reblog my posts right after diaper fetish art. (And if you thought that was some whiplash, imagine the guy who followed a diaper fetish art blog getting shown me.)

But this is just me buying time, isn't it. Alright alright, let's talk about the wishlist, beginning with its premise.

This is not advice. This is not a list that makes sense at all, really - most of these items are way far down the list of things I'd do with the money they cost and/or the effort they'd take. This is a dream, where those aren't a factor. Just like some people's dream car is a ten million dollar hypercar that was built directly into the bodies of five Middle Eastern oil moguls, my dream car is a Miata with exactly these bits. (And a Seven, but I really need to stop confusing y'all with them being tied for the favorite car top spot.)

This list is based on a note I started in middle school for the fun of it (which is hopefully understood as the driving motive behind this all) and gradually updated through high school and sort of left behind after that, having kind of run out of bits to add to it. It's split into six sections:

Exterior

Interior (i.e. cabin, trunk and engine bay)

Drivetrain (i.e. anything that plays a role in making the wheels spin)

Chassis and suspension (i.e. chassis and everything that connects the wheels to it)

Electronics (i.e. electronics/microcontroller-related features)

Miscellaneous

This will be a chance for me to check the prices of all the things I listed and, at the end of it, tally up their total cost and feel feelings about its enormity. But of course, we'll need to start with a thing that was not in the note, as it was a given to me: the base car. So that will be the subject of my next addition to this post.

Because I can't make this a single post. Absolutely no chance. Even just any workaround to the image limit being about a fifth of the length of this list would be a nightmare for me to execute and for y'all to navigate. And frankly, the length of the task would make me, if not outright give up, at the very least skimp on the kind of explanations and discussions that I must assume are why you're all here. So I will need to make additions to this post (in the form of a reblog, of course) each going over one section at most. But truth be, even doing one reblog per section presents those problems, so some sections would need splitting in a number of parts. Or I could go to the other extreme and made one post per item (or when appropriate group of items), which would allow me to expand upon every which one as little or as much as appropriate while still keeping a tidy presentation. But to do this I would need to hide all the information bar the name under a Read More, because if I put as little as one picture before it by the time I'm at the end of the list every time this post appears in your dash you'll have to scroll past some hundred pictures to get to the bottom of it; also, of course, this would mean this post showing up in your dash upwards of a hundred times - though of course you could just ignore it a bunch of times and when you feel like it go through all the parts you've not read yet at once.

Right now I'm leaning towards the one post per item approach, which would allow me to work towards the completion of this abomination in small daily steps rather than in age-long parts which would also help addressing your other submissions. But it's very hard for me to figure out what y'all would prefer, as it's kind of hard for me to figure out who would actually want to read through the entirety of this. So, y'all are welcome to leave your feedback in the replies or through this non-binding format poll.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

#i would have set something like two or three days but since day and week are the only options week it is #tumblr milestone #thank you #i am pretty sure those were tags included with the post but you know what I feel them so let's leave them in #mazda miata #mazda mx-5 #eunos roadster #miata mod master wishlist

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viking-raider · 4 months

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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.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #Love at First Sight #Love at First Sight *fic*#Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry Cavill x Alexa Forsberg (OFC)#Henry Cavill x Original Female Character #Henry Cavill/OFC #Henry Cavill & OFC #Henry Cavill RPF #Fluff #arranged marriage

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