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☼ Fandom: Harry Potter ☼ Pairing: Fred x OFC ☼ Summary: In which Fred Weasley is a simp for his wife. ☼ Arlet’s Masterlist ☼ Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic ​ If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Fred was completely, and overwhelmingly, lucky. He knew he was. He knew from the moment that Arlet said 'yes' to being his girlfriend. She was gorgeous, had the prettiest sparkly blue eyes and the plumpest cheeks he'd ever seen. She had bangs when they met in Hogwarts, giving her an extra touch of cuteness.

Arlet arrived with her younger sister to Hogwarts in '93 and because of her late birthday, she was to start as a 5th year with her sister. She was intelligent, very intelligent. She showed everyone when Snape asked her to list the ingredients of a potion they weren't supposed to prepare until the following week. There weren't many students who could say they had bested Severus Snape (not that Arlet would ever boast about that).

Now, Arlet was shy, but her sister Aracely was the stark opposite. Aracely was an avid quidditch fan and because she tried out for the Gryffindor team, Arlet's path inevitably crossed with Fred's. He had the perfect opportunity to get to know her.

It was still a laugh between them and the rest of their friends and family that Arlet had struggled to tell Fred apart from his twin. She made the mistake many times in the beginning. But ultimately, she got the hang of their differences and then suddenly, things had changed. She sought him out and he sought her out. They gravitated towards each other no matter what. It was an unnatural ache to be away from each other. So, the only solution was to...become boyfriend and girlfriend.

And two months into their relationship, Fred was absolutely in love with her. The type of love that made it hard to breathe when she was around yet simultaneously making him feel like he was walking on clouds. It sounded ridiculous — that's what his brother told him countless times — but Fred insisted that it was an actual feeling. And as soon as it became possible after the war, he asked her to marry him. She didn't think twice about it, much less about the date. Less than a year after their engagement, they were married. And now years later, when things were more than established, there were still things that Fred was coming to find out about his wife. Every day, actually.

Arlet was known for being proper and graceful and just about everything that Fred knew he was not. But he knew a secret that nobody else knew...

"You're a right ole troublemaker like myself," he would tell Arlet in the privacy of their own room. Because every once in a while, when they were alone, she would pull a harmless little joke on him.

Fred suspected that she was getting tips and advice from George.

Arlet giggled each time her joke came to fruit. One time, she left Fred's hair stark blonde.

"Not that I don't appreciate the color, but I really don't fancy the idea about looking remotely like Malfoy," Fred told Arlet very calmly as he admired himself and his blonde strands in the mirror.

Arlet had laughed for hours that night. But in the morning, proper Arlet had returned and helped him get rid of the color and so nobody knew a thing. Nobody knew that Arlet Weasley liked dipping her toes into the prankster life too.

The closest anyone would come to finding that it was when they happened to vacation with their friends and family and on occasion her jokes would last through the morning. What drove things home was Arlet warning Fred that nobody would believe him if he said that she pranked him.

She was a little bit of an evil mastermind. Fred said it many times. He loved it. Spiced things up every once in a while.

He especially liked the adrenaline when they were traveling. Arlet's mother was from Mexico and with that came a lot of vacationing spots in the area. They visited a lot of ranches, countrysides and beaches. Arlet would take advantage of his lack of spanish and trick him into trying the spiciest things ever, or getting him into the stupidest performances when they were in hotels.

Now, Fred loved going to the beach and it wasn't just because he would get to see his darling wife in bikinis or he would get to turn her pranks into his own show. No. He loved the salty smell of the air and the passing vendors with sweet coconuts and fresh fruit and the passing muggle trinkets that always caught his eye. He loved doing all of that with his wife.

And Arlet loved it all too. She loved that her husband loved it all and shared it with her.

They started making it an annual trip, whether it was on their own or with friends and family.

When Arlet wasn't planning on secret, totally evil, pranks against Fred, they would watch the sunset on the beach. They could do anything else in the day but at sunset, they would come back to the beach, sit on the sand, and watch the orangey-red sky as the sun went down the horizon.

"You know, one day, I say we should renew our vows here," Fred said to her one year as they sat on the sand together.

Arlet's laugh was like a sweet melody to him. "Even if I make your life miserable? I have plans to turn your hair purple next week, you know."

"Funny, I had plans to turn yours a bright rainbow next week too," Fred remarked. "We'll see who gets who first but in the meantime, I was very serious."

Arlet still laughed. "You would come all this way to get married again? You're—" But she had stopped when she glanced at him and saw him holding out a ring box to her. Her sparkly blue eyes went wide with shock. "Fred, you're not — you already gave me a ring. You do remember that, right?" She even raised her hand where her wedding band rested.

Fred chuckled. "I promise you that the firework fumes have not given me amnesia. Yet. But we can always do with an upgrade, right?" The shop was doing far better than it was when he first asked Arlet to marry him. He could afford a better ring for her. "So, Arlet Weasley, would you marry me…again?"

A soft smile spread across Arlet's face. "Anywhere, anytime. But it better be with you."

Fred smirked immediately. On the day of their wedding, just a few minutes before she was supposed to marry him, George met her with the rest of her bridesmaids pretending to be him. Arlet had not been amused with their switch-up trick at all. Molly Weasley smacked both of them that day.

"You think I would let my idiot brother marry the most gorgeous woman in the world? I think not. But it did make for a funny trick, right?"

Arlet shoved a hand against his chest. He laughed as he nearly slipped back but when Arlet lunged on him and kissed him, he had all the fuel he needed to laugh through the rest of the night.

The vow renewal announcement spread like wildfire amongst their friends and family. They chose to tell them in that same vacation spot, making it a whole party out on the beach. There were cheers and applause and all the good stuff that usually came with such news. There were plenty of 'why now?' too.

Arlet would put it all on Fred to answer since he was the one who came up with the idea. It was her attempt to make him take care of all the nosey people and free herself. But of course leave it to Fred Weasley to come out with the mushiest things to say when she was being such a bad wife.

"She makes me fall in love with her even more every single day."

"I learn new things about her and I'm a sucker all over again."

"It's like voodoo or something because I swear I wake up loving her and by night time, I love her twice as much."

Fred kept catching Arlet's eye from across the party, letting him know that she was hearing every single word of his. He would wink at her each time. When he was free, Arlet approached him with two tequila shots.

"You want to party with me, Mr. Weasley?" She offered him one of the shot glasses

"Oh, I don't know, my wife might get a little mad…" Fred said, taking the shot glass.

"Mmm…" Arlet hummed and leaned up on her toes, brushing her lips over his, "We can keep it a secret…"

It wasn't always that Arlet was that bold out in public. Fred suspected that it had something to do with the tequila in her hands. She loved tequila.

"Oh honey, you're going to be in big trouble tomorrow," he mused. He wrapped his free arm around her waist.

Arlet chuckled. "I'm not that drunk yet, Fred. Just happy, that's all."

"Oh, well in that case—" Fred drowned the tequila shot and shook his head. Arlet laughed louder. "Where's the next one?"

Arlet was happy to show him, after she drank her own shot. After that, it was a frenzy of celebrations and drinking. They danced together, shared kisses here and there, and the touches as if they were a newly engaged couple. It was true what Fred said. He always loved his wife twice as more by nighttime and tonight was no exception.

He remembered being so hyped up on tequila that even as they were leaving the beach and coming back to their hotel, they were still dancing. They danced in the lobby, Arlet a full giggly mess, and all the way up to their room.

Inside, they were a tangled mess of kisses and touches. Clothes were thrown every which way. There was a series of 'I love you's' exchanged between them, moans and names yelled out. But, as drunk as they had seemed to the others, the following morning they both remembered exactly what their night had looked like.

Arlet felt her husband's strong arms wrapped around her bare body under the sheets when she woke up. Soon, she felt his soft kisses on her neck.

"Buenos días," Fred whispered in her ear.

"Mm, nice Spanish," she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes just yet.

"Well, you made me speak in a whole new language last night," Fred remarked. He planted a kiss on her cheek.

Even though Arlet knew it was impossible, she felt her whole body heating up like it was summer. She opened her eyes and tilted her head up to meet Fred's eyes. "Hey…"

He smiled down at her. "Hi."

"We have to leave today, don't we?"

"Yes…" No sooner had Fred had answered than Arlet let out a groan. He laughed lightly. "Just remember, there's someone waiting for us back home."

With that reminder, Arlet did perk up. She was out of bed before him, and the first one to finish packing as well.

"LET'S GO!" She yelled at him excitedly when they left their room.

Fred laughed as she dragged him away. They had someone waiting for them, after all.

They couldn't possibly get to the Burrow any slower, at least that's how it felt to Arlet. Fred pointed out that they made great time on the sole fact they used the Floo network but alas, she was just too eager to see—

"Where is she?" Arlet's eyes swept over the Weasley's living room frantically. "Oh my goodness! What if they're not home? We told them we'd be back at—

They suddenly heard an excited babble coming from the kitchen and in a few seconds, the babbler herself had come wobbling into the living room — trying to run, it appeared — with two soggy cookies in her hand.

All the franticness washed from Arlet's face. Fred had started laughing when his mother came running in after the 2 year old girl yelling "'Cookies are for dessert, Siena! Give them back to grandma right now!"

Fred brought a hand over his chest. "Ah, it seems like it was just yesterday when I was doing the same thing."

Arlet threw him a look. "That's because you did that last week."

Fred grinned. "Oh, yeah! Siena!" He swept up the two year old into his arms and kissed her bright red hair. "Cookies are most definitely for breakfast!"

Molly reprimanded him on the spot. "Don't encourage her! She stole those cookies when I wasn't looking!"

"How terrible," Fred said with an overly seriousness. Of course he turned away from his mother with Siena in his arms and mumbled to her "That's my girl."

Molly welcomed them back and offered them to stay for lunch, although she warned Fred not to let Siena eat the cookies. She then headed back into the kitchen.

"How could I say no to you?" Fred tickled Siena's stomach, earning the giggles he loved hearing so much.

Siena Weasley was a spitting image of her father and that spelled future trouble…'for those who don't have a fun bone in their bodies' as stated by Fred himself. Arlet had yet to decide if she was worried as well.

"Oh, a troublemaker you'll beee…" Fred cooed at Siena. She had already offered him one of her cookies and then to her mother. "Hey Arly?"

Arlet had started gathering Siena's toys off the ground to alleviate some of the work for Molly. "Yeah?"

"I was just thinking…you're lucky I'm your baby's father."

Arlet paused, then shot her husband a deadpanning look. "Seriously?"

"Aha."

"And why is that?"

"Well, first of all, look at us," Fred turned so Arlet could see him and Siena together. "We're adorable."

Arlet shook her head. "You're something alright."

"And because you know that Siena will be anything but boring!"

At that, Arlet has to laugh. "That's what I'm afraid of, honestly." She walked over to the two, kissing Siena's forehead. "She's got your adventurous bug. My poor baby."

Siena leaned towards her mother and so Arlet took her into her arms. "Hi there, mi nena preciosa!" Siena responded to her mother with squeals. "Tan bonita y traviesa!"

Fred watched as Arlet continued to speak to their daughter in Spanish, a smile growing on his face. Words couldn't describe what he felt seeing his girls in their blissful bubble. He was so lucky, he knew it.

LOVE LOVE LOVE so much

A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital. 

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table. 

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed. 

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him. 

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it. 

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

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Tagging: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bluecoolr @the-pinstriped-hood @flower-crowned-lady @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azzy-ozborn @strrvnge @repostingmyfavs

ok do you guys wanna know how miguel got together with his sweet little housewife ... she was his neighbor before and she came over with a bowl of paella because she was learning how to cook from youtube and forgot to scale the measurements for one person only. she came over to her tall n hot neighbor's house with wide doe eyes like "i made too much do you want some if it doesn't taste bad? 🥺" and he loved it so much he railed her nd wifed her up isn't that sweet 😞

mob!boss loki who smiles sweetly when he sees you at the entrance of his lair fidgeting with the paper bag of lunch you cooked for him, thinking of kissing everywhere on your face as a thank you and he makes his way to you while thinking of getting you a nice necklace

that smile fades away when one of his men "accidentally" bumps into you, the paper bag bursting and spilling all your hard work on your shirt. before the tears in your eyes can even begin to fall down your pretty face, mob!loki has the bastard on the floor, and "accidentally" stabs him in the stomach seventeen times until what was once this man's stomach is a disgusting mess of red guts on the expensive floors.

he turns to you, a little worried that you're terrified now that you've seen what a violent monster he is, but you're kneeling on the floor still picking up the remnants of your ruined food, a gloomy look on your face as you look to loki sadly. he sighs fondly, and pulls you into his arms, petting your hair while his guards clean up both messes in the hall. he whispers a promise that he isn't mad at you, and he loves you very much and is very thankful you went through all that to make him a nice meal, even if he didn't get to taste it :(( he stands up, holding you in a princess carry, asking you if you want to eat somewhere fancy or have a picnic, but you're distracted by the specks of blood on his perfect face. he did that... for you?

it kind of sparked a weird but good feeling inside you, the thought that he had murdered someone without a moment's hesitation but treated you as if you were made of glass. you've never felt this cherished and you swear you're a good girl (and loki tells you that you are) but you can't help but be a little aroused by his obsession. what if someone flirted with you in front of loki? would he tie the bastard up and force him to watch your pretty cunt get ruined by your husband? would that be the last thing this unfortunate soul sees before loki slits his throat? and would he come back to you and kiss you sweetly, initiating another round of passion with you with another man's blood on his hands?

Handyman

Pairing: Husband!Henry x Pregnant!Reader

summary: fans on social media are absolutely in love with Henry and Y/n's relationship, and can’t ignore the fact that the woman is stunningly glowing !Fluff!

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Cavill Masterlist💫

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We’re Building our baby’s Crib‼️

Uploaded: 10 minutes ago

Comments:

@/tokyodrifter129: Ok but who knew watching a man building a crib could be such a turn on?!

> @/Y/nCavill: Babe I was thinkin the exact same thing 😭 it’s like porn for me now

>> @bulkyhulk: OMG SHE IS SUCH A MOOD I CANT BELIEVE SHE REPLIED TO YOUR COMMENT

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@/lizziedwire: Y/n is so cute with her baby bump🥺 The way her hand is just constantly touching on it and the way she smiles at her tummy just makes me wanna cry my eyes out. She’s so precious

> @/marvelledsire: let’s talk about her pregnancy glow though?? Like don’t get me wrong the woman was already stunning before, but even i’m findin her irresistible to look at

@/livingonntheflatearth: Did anyone notice in the video when Henry was reading the instruction manual to the crib, and his other hand was just rubbing Y/n's stomach mindlessly. I just know he positioned her rocking chair right there for that exact reason. But also I can’t blame her if she just wanted to watch him up close 🤪

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@/Cavillsfangirl00: Their nursery is so cutely decorated, all the pastel stuffies and toys on the shelves; DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE SUPERHERO BABY BOOKS THEY HAVE. I’m volunteering to be reincarnated as their baby

> @/leavemealonepls: Watching Henry in a vest top and shorts trying to build a crib, is something we didn’t know we needed. Thank you Y/n for posting this😭😭

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@/Tacosandcheese: Henry leaning his head up like a kid to ask Y/n for a kiss as a reward gets me all giggly every time. Who knew a man needed a kiss after every hammer hit☠️

> @/clarkentwho: Y/n looks so done with him every time he put his head up for that😭 but did you see how she always ended up smiling into their kiss?! I’m sleeping on the highway tonight for real

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@/369girlswannadrink: My favourite part of this video has to be when Henry accidentally dropped a bit of wood too loud and instantly turned around to Y/n, scared that he had “woken the weep chap”

> @/presidentofyourheart: Mine was when he finished the crib and him and Y/n started placing the mattress in it, you could see them both tearing up when they were hugging that dog stuffed toy they had😩

>> @/Saneiofanhere: How about when Y/n was sat eating baby sausages and every few seconds Henry would open his mouth and she’d try to aim one into it, then at one point she just got grouchy cause she ran out and he went and got her more. Sausage queen

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@/noobmasterer: Y/n is absolutely stunning in her maternity dress, i’m actually in awe, what a goddess

> @/henrycavill: yeah imagine how I feel waking up to her everyday

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@/beyoncesbackupdancer: Yall remember when they just revealed their pregnancy, AND HENRY CHANGED ALL HIS BIOS TO SAY “Future dad” This man is so extra i love it

> @/jellybaby: Can we blame him though? Mans has waited ages for a woman like her and waited even more for his own family. He deserves it sm!!

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@/Iminlove: I nearly cried when the baby kicked Y/n’s stomach in the video and Henry dropped everything to go to her side to soothe the baby, with gentle kisses and cuddles😭😭

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@/princesspopper: No lie I saw them buying the crib in ikea, and Henry was complaining wondering why the baby couldn’t sleep with them☠️☠️ Y/n had to hit him up the head and remind him that he can’t squish the poor thing

> @/princesspopper: THEN Y/n hugged him but she couldn’t cause of her stomach so he went around and hugged her from behind. I’m jealous can you tell

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@/britishenthusiast: Omg the plaster cast of Y/n's bump in the background is so fricking cute, I heard that Henry did it himself at home.

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@/bringitonsatan: I hate how there’s still fans hating on this beautiful family, CANT YOU SEE THEYRE LITERAL PERFECTION

> @/emmalovescake: omg yeah i know right, you can clearly see how much love they have for each other just by their eyes, I can’t imagine what they’re going to be like when their baby is here

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@/cheesytoes: Ok but Y/n ogling Henry while he’s building the crib is a mood, Henry ogling Y/n while she’s sorting out the toys is also a mood. I’m in love with them both

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@/Y/ncavillstan1: I can’t wait for vids of Y/n with their baby and singing them to sleep😭 I need to see it.

> @angelfeeder: I know AND I CAN ALREADY SEE THE BABY IN RUGBY GEAR CUS OF HENRY OMG

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@/Y/nCavill: @/HenryCavill you purposely put the bar of this crib too high, I can’t get out of it

> @/Henrycavill: I told you not to get in it pet, luckily it’s big enough for a feckn bear

>> @/Y/nCavill: Please baby i’m gonna piss myself, I just wanted to check if it was comfortable enough for our baby boo 🥺

>>> @/HenryCavill: Alright babs i’m coming up now

>>>> @/supermanreds: stop it. The cuteness is too much.

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