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winniemaywebber · 28 days

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The Apple Tree • part 2 🌳

2/6

Rosie Rosenthal x Reader

It's rainy in Thorpe Abbotts. Six planes go up, only five come back. Y/N worries about Rosie.

A familiar rumble distracts the class from their work, the scratching sound of pencils on paper ceasing almost immediately. Today, they had been sheltered from the graying drizzle of the village, much to their discernment. One look at their sad little faces pulled at your heartstrings, and the words “go on, then” had barely left your smiling mouth when they had all rushed to their cubbies to pull on their raincoats to protect themselves from the horrific weather.

Six had gone up, according to the second teacher down the hall who had happened to be on a tea break when she saw the planes ascend. You hadn't told your class the number, not wanting to potentially make their miserable day worse. You wondered if the weather had affected anything - whether the thick, black clouds full of raucous thunder had blocked their vision, the harsh wind causing them to break out of formation and bringing danger to themselves. And, in the back of your mind, you wondered about Rosie, hoping that he was safe.

It had been a couple of days since your last meeting, wherein you'd seen him taking a walk alone around Thorpe Abbotts, you spotting him as you rode home on your bike. You had waved nervously, precariously taking a hand off one of your handlebars to do so. Even from the opposite side of the road, you saw his face make a huge, beautiful smile, his baby blue eyes twinkling at the sight of you.

“Hi, Y/N. Wonderful to see you again.”

“Rosie,” you'd replied, your mouth also instantly bearing a grin at seeing him. “You, too. How was your weekend?”

“Ah, nothing special. I flew a practice mission, came back and wrote my mom. I try to keep her updated, she worries about me so, especially with me being so far away.”

“Oh, I understand. That's very sweet,” your heart melting at a man caring so much for his family. There is a pause as you keep smiling sweetly at one another, stuck for words due to being so excited at seeing each other again.

“So,” he breaks the silence. “Are you headed home?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “It's been a long day. It wasn't sunny enough to let the children play outside, and being cooped up drives them mad!” You laugh, hoping to diffuse the butterflies rising up in your stomach as he begins to offer to wheel your bike home so you can walk alongside him.

“I can imagine!” He responds, once again smiling in your direction as his eyes dart around, trying to get his bearings. A crack of thunder from above distracts him, his shoulders sagging with a sigh.

“We'd better hurry you home, ma'am.”

Running through the rain, you arrive at the cottage quick as a flash. “Come in and warm up by the fire,” you shout over the loud pattering of raindrops on your slate doorstep, both of you sheltering under the front door canopy.

“I'd love to, but I gotta get back to base. We have a briefing in the morning and I should get some rest.”

“Oh, of course. Well, thank you for walking me home again. You're great company.”

“You too, ma'am,” he smiles, exhaling through his nose with a slight giggle. “Are you doing anything Thursday afternoon?”

“No, I'm not,” you reply, the fastest answer that's ever left your lips. “I leave the school at around 2pm. You could meet me there? I could show you around a little. Bring your bike!”

“Oh, er–” he stutters, face turning red with embarrassment. “I haven't quite got to grips with that thing yet.” You try your best to stifle a giggle, shaking your head.

“I've heard you're the best pilot in the Army Air Force and you can't ride a bike?” You wink at him jokingly, his face now a cute shade of pink.

“Leave me alone, Y/N,” he pokes at you, his face however, still holding that beautiful smile.

“I'll teach you…if you'd like,” you say with a shrug. He nods, the color of his cheeks returning to normal. He reaches over and softly kisses your cheek, your hand coming up to touch it as soon as his lips break contact.

“Miss, I saw five come back,” Penelope says in a small voice. “How many were there?” Feeling your heart jump to your throat and your breathing become ragged, you try your best to maintain composure.

“I believe it was five, little one,” you respond, gritting your teeth into a reassuring smile. “Mrs Meldrum said five, but she was nose deep in the biscuit tin at the time. I'll ask her later, okay?” The wide eyed little girl nods and rushes back to her seat, pushing her round glasses up her nose as she sits down, once again ready to learn.

Getting through the rest of the day without making your unease obvious is an arduous task. Every time you think of Rosie, you feel your heart almost stop, feeling like a phantom hand has its grip around it, crushing it bit by bit. You find yourself taking a moment while the children are distracted to place a hand on your chest, willing your breathing to return to its usual pace, arguing with yourself for feeling so anxious over somebody you've met only twice.

To your surprise, you see your friend Sally outside as you corral the children out the door for home time, zipping coats and tying shoe laces as they rush out of the door into the cold drizzle. She's stood in a yellow rain coat, a black umbrella swaying slightly in the breeze.

“Sally?” You call. “Come in, doll.” A look of concern etched on your face, she runs in, dismantling her umbrella, a sob catching in her throat as she runs past you into the schoolroom.

“Oh, Y/N,” she wails, her pretty face crumpled. Her eyes are squeezed shut, black inky trails from her mascara shooting down her face. “Only five–” she stutters, before taking a deep breath to try and compose herself. “Only five came back…and–and I don't know if James…”

“Hey, Sal,” you murmur, pulling her into a tight hug, her wet raincoat against your skin causing you to shiver suddenly. “It's all going to be okay, just–” you pause, a hand on her cheek now. “Just be patient. He'll be knocking on your door tomorrow.” She nods, a small sob escaping her lips as she wipes her eyes. You hand her a small white handkerchief, embroidered with your initials. This seems to make her cry all the more.

“I still have the one your Granny made me,” she says as she dabs away the mascara lines. “Maybe I should start carrying it again.” You titter, exhaling as you do so.

“She gave them to us when we were, what, six?” You look at Sally inquisitively, and she nods. “And she made us promise to always stay friends. I'm not sure why she thought matching handkerchiefs would cement that, but…”

“I'm glad we did, though,” she laughs, sniffing.

“Me, too. Now, come on. You're about to freeze if we don't get you some place warm. I'll light the fire at home and you'll stay for dinner to take your mind off this.” You grip her softly by the shoulders. “He will be here tomorrow, okay?” But you're not quite sure who you're trying to reassure more: yourself or your best friend.

A restless night awaits you, tossing and turning in your bed as the moonlight peeks through your thin curtains. All you can think about is if Rosie and James are safe, the weight of your thoughts crushing your chest with every attempted deep breath. You fall asleep just as the sun is rising, and you wake feeling horrific. You pad to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, hoping going through your daily routine will bring some color back to your pale face and somehow, take your mind off things.

It's only when you pull your bike from against the wall of the cottage that you realize it's finally stopped raining for the first time in three days. You breathe in the fresh air, hearing the soft breeze blow through the leaves on the tree outside your gate as your eyes close softly. “Y/N!” you hear a voice call from down the lane. There, in his uniform, looking a little battered, is James. As he approaches you, you see he has a small scratch above his eyebrow and another gash upon his cheek.

“James!” You reply, extremely happy to see him. “You're here! Oh, Sally came to see me in such an awful state yesterday. We only saw five planes come back, and–”

“I'm headed there now,” he responds, interrupting your train of thought. He smiles brightly at you, and gives you a friendly wink. “Thank you for looking after her,” he says, softly. “I sure do hate worrying her but…it's just the way of the job.”

“I understand, James. I know. She just has such a big heart.” You begin to wheel your bike down the lane towards the school, waving a goodbye to James and trying your best to avoid asking the one question that kept you up all night. The temptation, however, is too much and you stop in your tracks.

“James?” You call after him. He turns but keeps walking, looking precariously behind him every few steps to avoid potholes and small ditches. “Is Rosie okay?”

“Finally!” He yells into the distance between you. “I was waiting for you to ask. He's fine, Y/N. Teach him how to ride that darn bike before he puts himself in the infirmary again!”

The day passes in a blink, which you think is mostly in part of you wishing the day away. The children leave in a gaggle of excitement, looking forward to feeling the warm sun on their sweet faces as they begin their short walk home, playing together all the while. As they disperse, you look out of the bay window and spot someone under the apple tree, reading, their brow furrowed in concentration. “Rosie!” you squeal, swing open the door and run towards him as fast as you can. He spots you immediately and stands up, just in time for you to fling your arms around him without second guessing yourself.

“Well, hi,” He murmurs, his face buried in your neck. You breathe a huge sigh of relief into him, your eyes squeezed shut.

“I didn't know if you were--oh, I was so worried about you,” you hold him a little tighter, wanting to make the embrace last a few moments more. “Oh, I'm so happy to see you, Rosie.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” he replies, reciprocating the tighter hug. You finally break apart, your hand finding its way to cup his cheek.

“Now,” you sigh, finally content. “Tell me why you can't ride this bike.”

He demonstrates, looking a little embarrassed when you see him begin to try pedal backwards.

“Hey, stop!” You call after him. “What are you doing?”

“I'm trying to stop the thing,” he laughs, but obviously frustrated.

“Darling,” you reply, the word just spilling out of you. “These–” you gesture to the long buttons just off the handlebars, “--are for stopping.” He rolls his eyes jokingly, comically slapping a hand to his head.

“Wow,” he says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I guess I can ride a bike. You really are a great teacher, Y/N. Those kids are lucky.” You shove at him playfully, laughing at his tone, until he grabs your hand. “Seriously…” he pauses, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “You're wonderful.”

Both balancing your bikes against the schoolhouse, you find yourselves under the apple tree, the sun just beginning to set. You had grabbed a spare blanket from the classroom, just in case the weather began to turn at a moment's notice which you knew was a terrible habit England possessed. Rosie places it around both of you and pulls you in close, your head resting on his shoulder. You close your eyes and exhale, contentedly, the rollercoaster of emotions from the past day finally leaving you in that breath, grateful and happy to have him here with you and safe for the time being. You reluctantly check your watch as he runs his fingers through your loose hair.

“You probably should get going,” you sigh, eyes a little sad. “It's late. I don't want you in trouble.”

“I can handle it,” he says quietly, his whole body relaxing underneath you. “Just a few more minutes, please. I just want to be a guy, watching the sunset with a pretty girl on my arm.”

#masters of the air #mota #mota fic #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x reader #winnie writes

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

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Fight Club narrator is irrevocably in love with me but can't bring himself to say anything about it and I put my dumb ass in Fight Club but Tyler Durden has his eye on me now. How would narrator react to knowing this, and how would Tyler pursue?

Narrator “Jack” and Tyler Durden x Male reader

Headcanons

The Narrator is referred to as Jack in this. When I wrote this, I imagined Tyler and Jack as their separate people. I tried to write the reader in a way that would catch not only Jacks but also Tyler’s attention, hope that’s okay.

This became a lot longer than I had planned, so I hope you enjoy :)

Tw for some mentioned homophobia. Mentions of violence (its fight club, so duh), nsfw mentioned but not described.

I'm always open for more fight club requests if anybody is interested. I know it's a pretty small fandom but ya know. I like it.

- Jack had been dragging himself through the grey and repetitiveness that was society when he met you for the first time. A new person had joined the multi-billion-dollar company that Jack had slaved away at for who knows how many years.

- You had been set up in the empty cubby beside Jack, the one that had been empty since his last coworker moved on to another mindless soul sucking job that paid a little extra.

- He had been typing random letters in a document, trying to force his insomnia heavy eyes to stay open, his head drooping every now and then as if the weight of his brain became to much for his neck to bare.

- Jack came to after you had already left to collect the materials needed for your desk. You had only been by to place your bag and leave your jacket. He heard people mutter and whisper, their voices muddling together into a wall of useless sounds, the kind that no matter how hard you tried, you could focus on enough to understand.

- Jack felt something swell in his throat as he saw you as you went by the opening of his cubby. He could now see why people talked about you that way. You had multiple piercings and tattoos, the ink curling up your neck and crawling the back of your ears, as the fake stones in your piercings twinkled.

- When you stepped back onto the floor, the whispers went quiet. A ringing noise filed Jacks ears as the sound suddenly left the room, an air of fake politeness filled the room like the gas from a stove left on too long. All it would take would be some comment, or any sudden movement to be the spark that would blow it all up.

- Your hair was styled in a way that was unprofessional by most sheep’s standards. It was spikey but still manageable. In a way that no one could really punish you, as it didn’t break the clothing rules. Letting his eyes roam over you, he caught a flash of colour on your hips.

- There, on your hips, you wore a colourful belt with spikes and buckles. And from one of the many buckles, hung a keychain of a rainbow flag. Jack could see the looks of disdain and disgust on his coworker’s face. As if your very presence was an insult to their existence, to their grey boring lives that followed the same patterns every single day.

- Jack could hear the mutter of Jenny, the 60-year-old, thrice divorced mother of 4, whose children never visited her anymore. He had her use a slur under her breath, venom lacing her words as she asked why someone like you had to work here.

- From the returned mother of Peter, married but unhappily, he would come in every day and complain about his wife and how she was unbearable. It was obvious he hit her. You were a hire from the higher ups to make the company look more “inclusive”, as “your kind” was becoming more accepted.

- When you smiled at him, he felt a warm flutter in his otherwise cold and empty chest. It was like a flower unfurling its leaves under a streak of sunlight. He tried to smile back, but he knew it looked awkward. He must have been some sight, with the dark circles under his eyes and sunken in appearance.

- As you looked to the side, your eyes meeting his, it felt as if Jack was struck across the face. It felt as if your fist met the side of his jaw, your ring covered fingers carving indents into his flesh and blood pouring from the damage.

- But you just smiled and introduced yourself. Jack politely replied, welcoming you to the company. He felt his heart give a lurch as he caught the appearance of a tongue piercing as you spoke.

- You grinned at him and made a comment about how you would be cubby neighbors, so you’d have to get along. Jack smiled, a little less tense this time, and made a smart remark about how he was sure you would get along just fine.

- Some days you would style your hair different, wear different piercings or change your hair. You even started wearing intriguing and colourful ties as the employee rulebook said nothing about colour.

- You were like a flash of light, a breath of fresh air or the relieving feeling of Tylenol kicking in and washing away a day long headache. You were a streak of colour in the otherwise grey and ice-cold world. You were warm and exciting. Nothing was ever the same being your cubby neighbour.

- Jack kept up his work friendship with you, the warmth in his chest turning into a bonfire, later growing into an almost unstoppable forest fire. The smoke rising and filling his lungs and causing tears to gather in his eyes as the soot blinded his vision. But through it all he could still see you, your hand reached out to him as you handed him a stapler as he had lost his own.

- Jack had even stopped going to support groups, as your very presence seemed to fill whatever hole it was, he had in his chest, tho he still had an impossible time sleeping. You were like a balm or an icepack on his otherwise painful existence.

- When you one day came to work and gave him a present on his birthday, the forest fire grew even more, the flames consuming hundreds if not thousands of miles or privately owned property, tearing down the million-dollar mansions and low-income houses that struggled paycheck to paycheck.

- He had never told you his birthday, but you just looked off to the side, a faint flush on your perfect face, at least in Jacks eyes, as you made some off hand comment about seeing it on the work calendar and since he was the only one at the office who seemed to like you, you felt like it would be a nice thing to do.

- Jack smiled, like really smiled as the warm feeling that he now recognized was love bubbled over, like a boiling pot of water, or acid mixed with the right chemicals. He shyly thanked you, and when you grinned and went back to your seat, he let the fluttering in his stomach be instead of surpassing it like he normally would.

- Inside the gift you had given him with a “Make your own soap” diy set with a sticky note ontop with some comment you had written about how “atleast making soap you get to decide, unlike this dump” and a winky face.

- Digging deeper into the box he pulled out a shirt, it was thick and warm and on closer inspection it was a hoodie. It was black and had multiple patches and artworks embroidered into it. The string it was stitched with was colourful and obviously homemade.

- In the hood was another note. In your recognizable scrawl It said “You always look so cold and small in ties and dress shirts. Its like looking at a wet, abandoned street cat. You should have something comfortable to wear”.

- Only you had been on his mind, and curling the hoodie to his nose, he could smell you. This has knocked him over and edge he hadn’t been able to cross in as long as he could remember. He couldn’t deny it any longer. Jack was madly and uncontrollably in love with you.

- Later that evening, Jack would lay awake in his bed, wearing nothing but the hoodie you had made for him. His forehead was sweaty, and his mind felt floaty as he had just had the best orgasm he could remember ever having.

- You filled everything inside of him. From his thoughts to his guided meditation safe place. Where in the past it had been a penguin telling him to slide, was you, in your out of work clothes, cigarette between your lips and telling him to live.

- Jack fell asleep to a bittersweet burn on his throat. He could never confess his feelings to you. It would destroy what little control he had over his life, and he knew you were so far out of his sphere that he would never have a chance.

- So, when the next day came, he acted like he always did, greeting you with a smile and tried to ignore the unbearable flutter between his ribs as you smiled back, a new piercing in your bottom lip.

- It was harder than he imagined, hiding fight club from you. Especially when you’d brush your knuckle over his bruised brow, your well kept and styled brows furrowed as you asked in to what happened.

- That’s when Jack met Tyler Durden, and everything went down the rollercoaster that was his Life. Jacks’ apartment was blown up, he moved into the abandoned building with Tyler, and they started fight club.

- Jack couldn’t help but look at the rings on your fingers, the gold and silver triggering the part of his brain that dreamt of being punched and hurt. He wanted nothing more than for you to pummel him into the ground, to kill him so he could be reborn yet again, this time to your kisses and touch.

- Things kept on as usual, tho you became more and more worried as Jack become more disheveled and unfocused at work. It was when Jack had apparently been beating bloody by the manager that you put your foot down.

- You had planned on crowding him against a wall and forcing out of him who had been hurting him, when you heard mutters of some so-called fight club. One of your coworkers, one of the lowest ranked there whose whole job was sucking up to higher ups, mentioned Jack and how he was a beast in a fight.

- Your brow gave a twitch as you forced the guy into a supply closet with you, and with some prodding and threats you got it out of him. Fight club. You even got an address forced out of him and the times Jack was there before you left.

- You ignored the side glances some of the other men gave you, knowing their eyes were all over your clothes and the way you carried yourself. Knowing it was a club for beating each other up, you had taken out your piercings.

- That Saturday you arrived at the bar your coworker had given you. You had arrived before fight club was so happen and had taken a seat in the back of the bar, eyes on the door.

- you were wearing low hanging jeans, so low the top of your hip bones was visible, and a short tank top, the shirt ending a few inches under your pecs. Over it you wore one of your sweatshirts, this one like the one you had made Jack. It was black, with multiple patches and smiley faces embroidered in many different colours.

- On your feet you wore well loved boots, and your hair was ruffled in a way that would have you sent home at work. You had even gone as far as smudge dark eyeshadow around your eyes and paint a sharp edge to your eyes with eyeliner.

- Normally at bars like this, multiple men would have already harassed you the moment you stepped in the door. But they had only seemed to size you up as you stepped in doors, some even letting their eyes falling to the exposed inked tattoo of your stomach and neck.

- Catching the eyes of one of them, he immediately turned his head in the other direction, his ears going red as he did. He was blonde, the kind that you could only get out of a box, even his eyebrows had been given the same treatment. And he had a large still healing bruise on his face.

- As they entered, the bar seemed to buzz as they started closing, tho only some men and mainly women left the building. As the group moved into the basement, you stood up and cocked your hip, letting your eyes roll over the many pathetic or desperate expressions. They reminded you of an addict about to get their next hit.

- When Jack stepped into the building, you almost got up and charged at him to force him to tell you what the hell this was about. But then the other man swaggered in behind him. He had greasy but spikey hair, and wore clothes you assumed he dug up at the same goodwill that you did, and from his lips hung a crumbled cigarette.

- As you walked down the stairs, you passed the man Jack had entered with. He stood as if he was greeting all the other men entering, but the moment his eyes landed on you, a cocky and lustful smirk pulled on his lips, as he let his eyes roll all over you.

- You did nothing but roll your eyes at him as you moved past. Scrunching your nose at the cigarette smoke he puffed out as he gave some flirty greeting to you. When you just quirked a brow at him and kept moving, he cackled to himself as if entertained by your uninterest in him and moved to the front.

- You took your place in the crowd, and watched as this man introduced the club and its rules, his eyes passing over you multiple times as he did. Beside him stood Jack who hadn’t seemed to have spotted you yet.

- Soon the fighting began, and you leant against a wall with mild interest. You could see the appeal sure, but you liked fighting just two people, since it felt even better with no audience.

- Jack choked as you stepped into the ring, working off your shoes, jacket, and the piece of fabric you called a shirt. He could help the ugly jealousy that boiled through his shock as Tyler seemed to eat up every inch of inked skin you revealed to him. Tyler spat the cigarette between his teeth on the ground and squared up.

- Finally, as all the other new men had fought, Tyler stepped into the ring and called out to you. He went as far as to bite his lip and wink as he said you would be fighting him.

- “How about a bet” he purred as you cracked your neck and stretched your wrists and arms. When you quirked your styled brow, he grinned and wiggled his owns as he said “If I win, you’ll go on a date with me”

- You scoffed. “And if I win? Then what?”. Tyler kept grinning as he gave a shrug “Ill let you do exactly what you want with me”. You rolled your eyes and got into a fighting stance.

- Jack had to hold himself back from barging into the circle to grab your wrist and drag you with him out of the basement and bar. He couldn’t bare you being hurt, but most of all he couldn’t take the way Tyler was looking at you, or the obvious half chub in his pants as you struck him across the face, almost sending him flying with your strength.

- The fight lasted at least 15 minutes, Fists flying and blood splattering the ground. Soon Tyler was on his back, and you wailed on his face and head, punching him with the same strength one would their worst enemy. Tyler gagged and spat up blood, arousal, and something else fluttering his chest as you straddled his chest.

- It triggered something inside his brain that you were stronger than him, and even after fighting for 15 minutes, you didn’t even seem winded, even as Tyler was staring to lose consciousness. As he started to hear ringing and lose his vision, he finally stopped trying to fight back and went limp, announcing the fight was over.

- You pulled Tyler to his feet with ease, the man wobbling and crashing into your well built chest as he grinned up at you, tongue running over his bloody teeth as he squinted his bloody and bruised eyes.

- You rose to your feet with the ease of a ballerina, sticking out your hand to help Tyler get up as the deafening roar of cheers and hollers rose across the basement.

- “So, what do you wanna do with me” he purred, and you rolled your eyes and dragged him out of the middle of the room, letting the next two victims get a chance to beat each other bloody.

- You dragged Tyler to a garden chair at the edge of the room near the stairs, placing him down into it with little care even as he groaned, head rolling back and Adams apple bobbing.

- Jack couldn’t stop the glare he shot Tyler as the man clearly was showing off to you, trying to entrance you the same way he had all the other men in this basement.

- Your lackluster reaction only made the need inside Tyler burn brighter. He wanted you. You were bright in a way that none of these other pathetic space monkeys were. You were his perfect other half, Tyler knew it. And if the glare that Jack was burning into the back of his skull was making Tyler want to act out even more, so what.

- “Wait, you didn’t even give me your number” Tyler called, rolling his still dizzy head so he could look at your hips as you walked up the steps. Turning back, you huffed a chuckle, rolling your eyes and shaking your head before turning back around and leaving the basement.

- As the fights continued and you had checked that Tyler wasn’t going to choke to death on his own tongue and blood, you pulled on your shirt and jacket, shooting Jack a look before you went up the stairs.

- Jack could feel his fists shaking by his sides as he saw the flirty interaction with Tyler, who seemed to have caught the same infatuation with you that Jack himself had. If the dreamy look Tyler was shooting the door, you had just exited was anything to go off. It was either that, or you had given him a concussion during your fight.

- Jack bit the inside of his cheek, the taste of blood spreading to his tongue as he tried to suppress the bubbling jealousy and rage at the very thought of losing you to Tyler. Jack internally cursed Tyler, for daring to speak to you in ways Jack could only dream of ,you had just met and he seemed to already have worked his way into your good graces in a way that took Jack weeks.

- Tyler turned his head to Jacks direction, shooting him a bloody grin as if he had won some fight that didn’t involve their fists. As if he had won your affection and ripped it out from right under Jack. Tyler seemed to take some pleasure in the bubbling anger in Jacks eyes, the glint in Tyler’s eyes sparkling just a little bit more than usual.

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vermillionsails · 2 years

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Fountain Pen

This is a Steven Grant x Reader fic

(A/N) This is pure fluff because I love this man so much. Also Steven is the king of stationary and you can't my mind. I don't own the gif or the characters. Except maybe Cheshire your cat. (Not the name of the cat obvi) You and Steven know of Marc but it's not mentioned here totally except maybe when you give him is gift. It's stuttle.

• she/her pronouns for the reader

• ⚠️ J.B being J.B you being bitchy to J.B that's it. Oh it's a little time Skippy I won't lie and the word you is used a lot.

• Synopsis- it's your guys first valentines day as a couple unfortunately he was scheduled to work and it has been pouring rain all day but, you surprise Steven with a fountain pen and other gifts, trying to make the most of a sucky day.

• Steven is blue and you're orange

Steven 💙🐊

Hey luv Donna scheduled me untill 10:00 tonight we won't be able to make our reservation. I tried to convince her to let me off but, she wouldn't have it. I'm on inventory for 3 weeks now. 🙄

Really on Valentine's day?! I should go up there and give her a peace of my mind. I'm tired of her doing that to you.

I think that would make it worse unfortunately darling.We could order take out and watch each others favorite movies. I know it's not what we planned but, will still be together.

That sounds good, we can always go another time and as long as i get to see you and give you your gift I won't tear off Donna's head. I love you babe see you tonight.

I can't wait to give you your gift and I love you so much! Laters gators 🐊 ❤️

After while crocodile 🐊 ❤️

You were gonna kill Donna if you ever meet her. Steven was so excited to take you to a French restaurant he found down town. You where a little nervous to go to it but as Valentine's day got closer you started to get excited, and seeing your adorable boyfriend's eyes light up when he talked about it made your heart swell. Untill Donna and what you assume to be fate settled to being a bitch today. You knew Steven was crushed. And you where sad too but, hopefully your gift and the little goodie basket you made him would make up for it.

You decided to try and calm yourself down and have a little spa day and take your time getting ready. You made yourself a bubble bath and put a face mask on. As soon as you sunk down into the warm water a crack of thunder and the pounding of rain made its presence known. You tried to look on the Bright side maybe you could kiss Steven in the rain later tonight. Like in all those rom coms you use to watch as a little girl. Sinking even further into the water you hoped that the day would go by fast. You where never the biggest fan of valentine's day, but the one time you actually get excited for it the, god's decided to knock you down a peg. Despite the sour mood you where gonna give your best for Steven and yourself.

After doing a normal bath routine you got out and whiped the fog off your mirror. Finished your skincare and, slapping some makeup on you made your way to your bedroom.

Sitting on your bed you stared at your closet debating on what to wear. Sense you where going to stay at Steven's flat, you decided on a nice comfy top and black leggings. After putting on your outfit your cat Cheshire a somewhat cubby Ginger cat, jumped on the bed. He greated you with a small meow. "What do you think ches? Do you think Steven will like it?" you gave a small turn for your furry companion. He gave you a few blinks and jumped down to rub and wind himself in-between your ankles. "I'll take that as a yes." You picked him up and gave him some head pats. "Ches im gonna go to Steven's flat. Man the house while I'm gone." All you got was intense purring in response. After putting him down he scurried to the arm chair he called his bed to watch you leave.

Grabbing a rain coat,Steven's gifts, and your bag. You said bye to cheshire and made your way to the elevator. You decided to go to the grocery store and pick up things to make dinner for the two of you tonight. You shot a quick text to tell Steven.

Hey baby I'm gonna go to the store and pick up stuff for dinner, I don't wanna press our luck with take out.

Oh gosh that sounds amazing darling! I can't wait to see you tonight I miss you so much. It's been such a rubbish day today. 😣

I know I miss you too and I'm gonna come get you at 10:00 it's raining really hard and I don't want you to walk in it.

That would be great , it started raining on my lunch break, my jacket got soaked. I can't wait for this shift to be over. Oh luv don't look in the closet your present is in there and, I want it to be a surprise!

I promise I won't look in the closet scouts honor, and I'm sorry your jacket got soaked babe, we haven't had the best luck today. 😞

No we haven't but, well get to see each other tonight and I'm off tomorrow thankfully. I don't know how I managed that but, I got to go Donna is coming. See you soon laters gators ❤️🐊

After while crocodile 🐊 ❤️

After texting him on the elevator, you drove swiftly to the nearest grocery store. Getting out and covering your self with your jacket you ran into the store. Trying to not get drenched.

The florescent lights of the store blinded you as you grabbed a shopping chart. It took you 20 minuets to find the ingredients for a vegan pasta carbonara and a vegan red velvet cake. You waisted some time getting some candles, and a new throw blanket for you and Steven too cuddle under for your movie night later tonight. After looking at the clearance racks and milling about, You whent through the self checkout and made your way to Steven's flat. You where glad that at least your shopping whent right.

You walked into the lobby and saw that the elevator was out of service. Of course it was you rolled your eyes and started to march yourself and your bags up to Steven's floor. A few of them almost dropped but, you managed to catch them before they kamikazed down the steps. After fumbling with the key for a good few minutes you walked into Stevens flat and breathed for the first time today.

You put the groceries up, set up the candles and blanket you bought, and hid your gift. It was still early afternoon and you had a while before you could start dinner and go get Steven. You fed Gus, watched some movies, retouched your make up, started to read a book you picked up from a self got bored, and watched TV again untill 9:00.

You cleaned the area you settled in and, made a vegan pasta carbonara and, a vegan red velvet cake which turned out pretty good by the looks of it.

You had just put the noodles into the sauce when you looked at clock on the stove. 9:54 your heart sped up as you turned the burner off, covered the pasta with a lid and rushed out the door. You practically flew down the steps to get to your car. You couldn't wait untill you saw Steven.

After a few traffic violations and about 5 different songs you made it to the museum. You walked up the steps and made it into the lobby. You looked for Steven and tried to walk to the gift shop "hey miss where closed!" A rude and bored voice called out to you.

You looked over to the booth where the security guard sat. You assumed this is J.B. He didn't even look up at you when he spoke just at the phone he had in his hands. "I know I'm here to pick up Steven." He raised a eye brow in confusion "you mean Scotty? You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "No I mean Steven can you not lift your head enough to read a name tag?" He finally looked at you it was in shock but, he looked at you.

You heard foot steps racing towards you. After you snapped at him. " your here!" Steven all but, tackled you into a hug. You melted against eachother. "Come on Steven let's get out of here." He gave your cheek a kiss " I couldn't agree More." After flipping off j.b while Steven wasn't looking you made your way to the car.

After a few more traffic violations you and Steven where at his flat in record time. " Love do you normally drive that fast?" Steven looked at you somewhat concerned while digging his keys out. "just when I want to be with you." You blinked up at him lovingly. He gave a small chuckle "very funny your not gonna cute your way out of this one but, sense it's Valentine's day I'll let it slide for today." You shrugged " I've missed you and I got impatient what can I say." Steven looked over his shoulder while unlocking the door. " I guess I can't blame you there. I missed you too."

The smell of the dinner you cooked wafted you and Stevens way as the door swung open. "Darling that smells wonderful." You grabbed Stevens hand and led him to the kitchen. "Let's celebrate we've waited long enough." After grabbing plates the both you dugg in to the pasta like wolves neither of you realized how hungry you where. "Oh Steven before I forget I want to give you your gift." Steven nodded "so do I" he ran to the closet and grabbed yours. While your pulled out his from your bag. "So can I give yours first?" You asked. "Yes love go ahead."

You handed him the little gift basket you made. His eyes lit up like a kids on Christmas. As he opened the Velvet box. "Oh it's a fountain pen. I've always wanted one of these. It's lovely thank you." You could feel your self blush again. "I know, you always talked about it and it made me think of you. once you get use to writing with it'll only work with the pressure that you use so it'll always remember you." Steve looked like he had hearts in his eyes. "I- love that's beautiful thank you this is one of the best gifts I've ever gotten." You gave him a kiss. "I'm glad you like it. I got you ink and some other stuff for it too." He handed his gift to you. "I can't wait to write with it and your gift I well, it's a thank you for listening to me rambling about egypt all the time." Opening the small jewelry box you pulled out a solid gold necklace with a bar of with what you assume to be a phrase in hieroglyphics. Steven cleared his throat while you stared at it in awe. "It's says I love you always. I know it's cheesy but, I really do love you and I thought Id get it in writing." You could feel tears well up in your eyes. "Oh Steven it's beautiful I'm never gonna take it off." You gave Steven a kiss while he put it on for you.

The rest of the night you and Steven stayed under the blanket you bought cuddling and making out while you watched movies. For the first valentines as a couple it turned out all right despite the bumps along the way.

#fanfic #moon knight imagine #reader insert #steven grant #steven grant x you

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cryptid-crusader · 3 years

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Luna got some new digs. :3

#I'm hoping she warms up to the cubby #she usually doesn't like enclosed areas because i think they remind her of her carrier #but she's sleeping on it of her own free will #her old cat tree was so ratty and gross lul #cat #my cat #luna cat #luna tuna baby bean #tiniest of the tuna queens #siamese cat #cat tree

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sunmoonandeddie · 2 years

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all the riches, baby, won't bring what your love can bring

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,906

summary: The Crime Whores cover the story of the Barnes's Gang, who robbed over twenty banks in fifteen years.

warnings: swearing, violence, smut, cnc, bank robbing, murder of a rapist, mention of rape, i guess this counts as slightly dark!bucky, i'm trying really hard to not spoil it while also properly tagging

a/n: I really fucking hope y'all like this. I feel like it's both not like what I usually write but at the same time... is? I don't know. Either way, let me know what you think! I love you!

“Hey, Crime Whores, welcome to another episode of Killer Love,” the host, Caroline Trouper, said after the theme song faded into the background, “where we talk about crimes committed by family, friends, and lovers. I’m Caroline.”

“And I’m Lizzie,” her cohost, Elizabeth Holloway, said.

Caroline grinned at her best friend, before looking at her laptop. “Today we’re going to be talking about a group of friends that robbed over twenty banks in the span of about fifteen years, and were only caught after their deaths due to diaries found by two of the members’ children. It started when the two leaders of the gang, Mr. and Mrs. James Barnes, had been dating just a year, when she was only twenty and him twenty-eight. But the heist we’re specifically going to go into today occurred about a decade in, after they’d gotten married...”

“No man could test me, impress me. My cash flow would never, ever end,” I hummed under my breath as I opened the front doors of the bank, willing myself to believe that today would be a good day no matter what. My coworkers were already inside, having gotten everything prepped, but I didn’t have to be there until right at nine when we opened to the public. “‘Cause I’d have all the money in the world if I was a wealthy girl…”

One of my coworkers, Kiera, gave me a warm smile as she passed me with a warm, “Good morning, Val.”

Name tag glimmering in the light, I greeted her back as I got to my desk, setting my purse in the little cubby underneath.

It was quiet, as it was every morning, save for the few early morning customers and the quiet radio playing in the background. It was Brooke’s turn to choose what station we listened to, I was pretty sure.

Made sense why it was smooth R&B compared to Nina’s country station yesterday.

“God, I still can’t believe that your husband managed to find a ring so beautiful,” Leona said, taking my hand to inspect it for what was probably the millionth time in the few months I’d worked there.

“I just can’t get over how close your ring looks to the Harry Winston bridal couture emerald cut,” Nina added, the other girls not hesitating to join the two in admiring my engagement ring and matching wedding band. They were just like any other midwestern girls that were obsessed with weddings and babies.

And they had asked me many, many times when my husband and I were finally going to have said babies.

Cheeks hot, I moved my hand to let the diamonds glitter in the soft lighting on the bank. “He did do wonderful, didn’t he?…” A dreamy sigh fell from my lips as I got caught up in looking at my ring. We’d only been married a handful of years, but it still felt like we were in the honeymoon phase.

“So what’s your secret to a happy marriage?” Leona asked.

“Oh, please, have you seen her husband?” Kiera laughed as she nudged my hip. “I think any marriage with a man who looks like that is going to be a dream. A dream marriage with a dreamboat.”

Smirking, I poured myself a cup of coffee, pouring in a generous amount of creamer. “Well… we never go to bed angry. We both agreed early on that no disagreement can’t be fixed with a calm, civilized conversation… We’ve been in couple’s therapy since we got engaged instead of using therapy as a last resort…” A slow smile crept onto my lips as I saw how they all seemed to be hanging onto my every word. It made me sad, thinking about how even those in steady relationships felt unfulfilled, lonely, with their partners. I took a slow sip of my coffee, crossing my ankles as I leaned back against the counter. “And we also have lots and lots of absolutely filthy sex.”

The other women were all squealing and giggling, even though Carol Ann (who usually hid in the back by the drive thru) seemed more than a little disgusted.

Though, Ben didn’t seem too happy either. His nose was scrunched up from where he sat listening in his office, his name emblazoned across the plaque on his desk with ‘BRANCH MANAGER’ underneath.

He thought he was a fucking hot shot.

I tried not to cringe as he got up out of his rolling chair and sauntered towards my direction, unbuttoning the cuffs on his pristine button down shirt. Maybe if I pretended to be busy getting all logged into my computer and ready for the day, he’d leave me alone.

But no such luck, just like always.

“Sweetheart, when are you gonna let me take you out for dinner?” He asked as he sidled up closer to me, his voice low and grating on my ears. The man always smelled like McDonalds french fries. “Hm?” His hand found the small of my back, giving me shudders. “To discuss your… career, of course.”

The most frustrating part of his never-ending advances on me was that all of the women I worked with knew what was happening, they saw me deny him and try to get him to stop, and they did nothing. Nothing.

The one man that worked in the bank besides the night janitors and the one security guard, and everyone was terrified of him.

I was terrified of him.

Though I suppose I had every right to be.

A large part of me wondered what the other women would say or do if they knew the whole story, if they knew everything that he’d done to me. It seemed that as long as it wasn’t them being sexually harassed, it was okay.

I’d come to dread my days at the bank more and more often, with how he pushed the line further and further, even completely crossing the line one night where it was just the two of us closing that had ended up with me sobbing in my husband’s arms, feeling dirty and used. I could usually make it about five minutes into my shift, being hopeful that he wouldn’t bother me, before it was dashed and my day was ruined.

It took everything in me to not call my husband and beg him to come pick me up just minutes after he’d dropped me off.

A shocked squeak escaped me as his thin fingers grabbed my ass roughly, going as far as to give it a shake and then a small smack.

“Mr. Donovan!” I snapped, whirling around to glare at him. “May I remind you that I’m married?”

I could only hope reminding him that another man had a ‘claim’ on me would work this time. Most of the time it didn’t, but I could give it a shot.

“And?” He said with a laugh, his hand that had been on my ass going to his belly. “No marriage is of any importance to me. It’s not my vows.”

My face felt hot as he left me there to go back to his office, the other women not so subtly sneaking glances at me as I got back to work. I willed my trembling hands to calm down, taking a chug of coffee.

It was like any other day.

That is, until I heard Kiera gasp just two hours into my shift, and I looked up to find a terrifying sight. The mug in my hands slipped from my fingers as I stared at a group of seven people in ski masks, covered from head to toe in black.

The one in front smirked slowly at the sound of the mug shattering.

I didn’t even register the painful burn of the coffee against my skin.

As soon as the security guard rushed towards them, one of the intruders jammed a syringe into his neck, and we all watched as he slowly sunk to the ground, passing out.

But then someone’s attention turned to me. “Did you burn yourself, honey?” The man in front asked as he slowly walked towards the counter, his voice low and gruff. His boots made heavy thuds against the marble flooring.

It was only then that I realized that he was talking to me, and that I did, in fact, burn myself when my mug fell from my hands. It had taken me a moment to realize that his piercing eyes were also locked on my face.

“I-I’m fine,” I said, voice cracking. Wobbling in my heels, I tried to not stumble backwards in fear as he got closer to the counter, his glove-clad hands slamming onto the oak harshly.

His head tilted to the side, and I was only able to see his icy blue eyes and his lips as they pressed into a thin line. He was clearly assessing me. “You want me to tell you how things are gonna go?” He asked, his voice soft.

Even though he was only looking at me, it was clear he was entirely aware of everything around him. From the spot to the security guard had crumbled to the ground to the few members of his group ensuring that no one pressed any alarms to how the person who seemed to be his second-in-command was dragging Ben out of his office by the back of his shirt and forcing him to kneel in front of him.

I nodded stiffly, my throat dry. “Y-Yes. P-Please don’t hurt me,” I begged, tears welling up in my eyes. “Please…”

“Don’t worry,” he said, his gloved hand gripping my chin roughly as he examined my face. His thumb ran over my lower lip, his icy eyes meeting mine. “Such a pretty face. Might have to fuck it.” The intruder then jumped the counter in one swift movement, causing me to stumble backwards. But he quickly grabbed my arm and righted me, before shoving me in the direction of the large vault door. “Come on, open it up, honey.”

But before I could even reach to enter in the combination, Ben was trying to rush the man. It was no surprise to me that he would consider money more important than any of us that actually worked in the bank. However, he was no match for the ringleader.

The man, who was built like a linebacker, grabbed him by the throat and easily slammed him against the closest wall, rattling the pictures hanging on it.

I’d never seen Ben look so small.

“P-Please. Please, don’t hurt me,” he begged as he clawed at the hand holding him, choking on his words.

“I don’t think I like you very much,” the man said, squeezing a little tighter. Something about the way that his eyes narrowed felt so personal. He then leaned in, and whispered something in his ear that no one except him could hear.

Ben’s eyes went wide, and then flicked to meet mine. He looked absolutely petrified.

He looked like how I’d looked that one night I had to close the bank with him.

Good. He deserved to feel that kind of fear so he could understand what he’d done.

Then I watched that fear die out as the man snapped his neck in one smooth movement.

Brooke let out a bloodcurdling scream, Leona falling to her knees. Every single one of us was in tears, hysterics even.

But I had to remain calm. Taking in shuddering breaths, I reached out and placed my hand on the cool metal of the vault, letting my fingertips run over the lock before I slowly entered the combination.

“FOUR! BRING THE BAGS!” He shouted suddenly, making me jump what felt like a foot in the air.

“They’re calling themselves by number,” Leona said quietly, looking between them. “S-So we don’t learn their names.”

“Very observant,” the intruder behind her said. It was a woman’s voice.

The one that must’ve been four rushed into the vault with seven bags. “There’s more out there, but I figured we’d start with this,” the man said, sounding much younger than the one who was toying with my hair, the one who had killed Ben.

“Sit,” the one in charge ordered, shoving me to the corner of the vault, furthest from the door so I couldn’t run. “Just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?” He said as he and Four quickly loaded up the bags with money. They were completely clearing it out, not wanting to leave even a penny behind. The man’s lips quirked up in a smirk as he glanced at me. “Maybe take your top off or spread those pretty legs and give me a show, if you’re feeling generous.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I pressed myself back against the cool metal of the safety deposit boxes. He didn’t seem to be too concerned with those, only filling up the bags with the stacks upon stacks of cold, hard cash.

“How have no customers come in?” I asked, brows furrowed as I tried to peek out of the vault just for him to snap his fingers at me to sit back in my place.

They had long since filled up the original seven bags. According to my counting, they’d filled up about eleven with a lot more to go. This had clearly been meticulously planned, because otherwise how the hell would they be able to take their sweet time?

“Put a sign on the door saying that the bank is closed for employee training and deep cleaning, and that you’ll be open again tomorrow,” he said with a shrug. The man was slowing down as the stacks of cash grew smaller and smaller, as I watched him fill four more bags.

How long had we been here?

How long had it been since they’d entered?

Holding up a band of hundred dollar bills to the bright lights, he slowly turned it back and forth. He was… admiring it. “Have you ever been fucked on a pile of money?” He drawled, a slow smirk covering his face.

The man’s voice was deep… slow and gravelly. Dangerous.

It almost sounded like how I expected an outlaw in the Wild West to sound, minus the southern drawl.

It seemed I took a bit too long to answer, because he got to his feet and walked over to me with slow, measured steps. Whimpering, I squeezed my eyes shut as he crouched in front of me.

His fingers trailed over my cheeks, wiping away a few leftover tears. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

Stubbornness rearing up inside of me, I suddenly opened my eyes and spat in his face.

The man sat back on the balls of his feet, staring at me in dark surprise as he ever so meticulously ran his tongue over his top lip to clean away the saliva that had landed there.

The air crackled between us as I waited for his next move. It was much harder to read his face when it was almost entirely covered by a ski mask.

But his blue eyes flashed with something I couldn’t name.

And then he struck.

His large hand snatched out like a viper, grabbing my neck and forcing me into an absolutely filthy kiss. Teeth knocking, lips swollen, he didn’t seem to care, if the hardness in his tactical pants was anything to go by.

“Please don’t! No!” I begged desperately as I broke away from the kiss, shoving at him in any way I could. But it was no use. “Please! Please! I-I’m married!” I tried to scream as he pushed me to the ground, his hips heavily resting over mine, keeping me locked in place.

The man sneered as he took my nametag from my shirt and tossed it to the side in disgust. “You wanna play pretend, pretty baby? I’ll play pretend. I play house as your husband,” He taunted, smirking as he looked down at my squirming form. Using one hand, he grabbed both of mine to pin them above my head, before freezing when he inspected my left hand. “That’s a nice little ring, honey. Maybe I’ll just take it for myself. A souvenir of our time together.”

I shook my head rapidly as I tried to get out of his hold, screaming as his large, gloved hand ripped at my blouse, sending buttons flying. “NO! NO! Please!” I snapped, trying to kick him off of me as he took my wedding rings from my finger, even as it became more and more hopeless. “Please! Please, don’t do this!”

He didn’t listen to my pleas, not that I expected him to. Instead, the hand that had ripped off my blouse moved down to my skirt. His eyes locked on mine as his fingers found the zipper at the back and he every so slowly tugged it down. “It’s cute that you think begging will help,” he drawled, slowly pushing the skirt off of me. It was like he didn’t want to rip it, which confused me considering his lack of regard for my blouse.

“What is he doing to her?!” I heard Brooke shout angrily from out in the lobby. “LET HER GO! VAL!”

Lower lip wobbling, I couldn’t break my gaze from the stranger’s. “Please. I…” I needed a last ditch effort to try to get him to stop. “M-My husband and I are trying to h-have a baby. I’m not on b-birth control. Please don’t do this…”

He stared down at me in the skimpy matching lingerie, the baby pink silk thong and bra soft against my skin. “Maybe your husband needs a little help knocking you up, honey. You wear this shit to work? You’re just asking for me to take you.”

When my bra and panties were removed, I knew it was truly the point of no return. There would be no stopping this horrible monster.

The man used my ripped blouse to tie my wrists together so he could have use of both hands, the soft fabric cutting into my skin. His gloves were almost cold against my skin as he gripped my thighs, leaning back as he spread my legs wide. “Aw, what’s this?” He asked as he peered down at my core. “Already been fucked today? You two really are trying to make a baby, aren’t you? Walking around with his cum dripping out of you?” He leaned in, nipping at my thigh before licking through my soaked folds with a deep moan. “I knew you were a dirty little girl the second I laid eyes on you,” he said, his hands working at his pants as he cleaned my husband’s cum out of my cunt. Like some kind of pleasure expert, he found my clit in no time at all, teasing it with soft flicks of his tongue. “You’re all wet for me, dove… You like being used like this, don’t you? Like the good little slut you are.” There was a moment when he stopped and searched my face. “You like this, don’t you?” He must’ve found something he liked, because then he got right back to it.

The sound of his zipper being undone filled the air, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts,” I chanted over and over and over. His mouth on my core felt like absolute heaven, sending shudders down my spine.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

The man’s touch disappeared from my weeping pussy, and I felt him moving over me.

The blood curdling scream I let out when he pushed inside of me felt like it rocked the building.

“You’re so ready for me, so wet and warm,” he taunted, reaching down with a gloved hand to rub my clit. “You sure you didn’t want this, honey? Hm?”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as he moved against me, pleasure sparking throughout my body wherever he touched me. “No! No! Stop!” I tried to say, though my words were dying out.

His lips found my neck as he groaned, leaving hickeys in his wake. One of my nipples caught between his teeth as he bit my tit harshly, enough to leave a mark.

All I could think about was everyone else in the bank being able to hear the mixture of my pleading and his moans and my moans and the slap of skin on skin. It was humiliating.

Everything felt like a blur until an unexpected wave of pleasure came over me and I cried out, back arching up off the cold marble floor. I was so dazed that all I could do was lay there, trying to catch my breath as he used my body to completion, filling me to the brim.

The man gripped my face with his hand, kissing me fiercely. “You’ve been a real good girl for me, honey,” he said slowly, breathless as he pulled his briefs and pants back into place. He patted my cheek before getting to his feet, grabbing the remaining bags. “You have a nice day now, you hear? And who knows? Maybe I finally finished the job your husband couldn’t.”

I laid in the bank vault completely naked, hiccuping. The man’s cum was dripping out of me, creating a puddle on the freezing cold floor. I had no idea if the intruders had left yet, if the police were on their way. I only knew that the criminal who had just been inside of me wasn’t in the vault any longer.

My wrists ached as I tried to get them free of my blouse. Maybe I could get free before my coworkers came in and caught sight of me, saving me the humiliation.

“Valerie?” Kiera whispered in the doorway, slowly moving to my side. “Don’t come in!” She shouted at the others, keeping them back as she untied my wrists and got me back in my clothing, even if my blouse had to be fastened with safety pins that were passed around the corner to the woman. “It’s gonna be okay,” she said reassuringly as she guided me to my feet. “Can you walk? That’s it. You’ve got it.”

My heels had been abandoned inside the vault, my bare feet silent against the hardwood flooring of the bank. “Can… Can you call my husband?” I asked weakly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

Outside, I could hear the sirens of the police as they approached.

The ambulance that arrived at the scene rushed me to the hospital and into a private room. Everything felt like a blur as they tried to ask me questions, tried to get an account of what happened.

I just wanted my husband.

“Hi, Sebastian, this is Kiera,” my coworker said quietly as she squeezed my hand. “Yes, her coworker at the bank. Listen, there’s… there’s been an incident. How soon can you get here to United Methodist Hospital?” She glanced down at me, giving me an encouraging smile as her brown eyes flashed. “Yes, she’s here. She’s okay, but I think it would best be explained in person. Okay. Okay, yes. I’ll let them know to let you back.”

My throat felt like it was closed up from anaphylactic shock, almost, from how tight it was. “I-Is he coming?” I asked with a sniff.

“Yeah, he’s coming,” Kiera said reassuringly, not letting the doctors anywhere close to me at my request.

It only took about fifteen minutes for my husband to arrive, and he barrelled into the hospital room. “Dove?!” He said, tears in his eyes as he rushed to me. Large hands gently cupped my face as he looked me over. “Oh, god. Oh, god, what happened to you?” His lips plastered my entire face with kisses. “I’m so sorry, dove, I’m so sorry. I’m here. I’m here.”

The two of us sobbed together as he held me, rocking me back and forth. “I’m so scared,” I admitted after a long time. “Everything hurts…”

Kiera had slipped out of the room, though two nurses and a doctor were still there, waiting to do their jobs. They looked more than a little put out at being ignored, at being told no.

“Now…” My husband pulled back, one hand cupping my face as he got me to look him in the eyes. Eyes as blue and icy as the arctic. “What’s this I hear about you not letting the doctors take a look at you, huh?”

“Didn’t want any doctors. Just wanted you,” I hiccuped, clinging onto him desperately. My acrylic nails dug into his arm a little. I was terrified that if I closed my eyes for even a moment, even just to blink, he’d disappear. “Oh, dove,” he cooed, his face falling as he pulled me in for a long hug, kissing my forehead. “Now that I’m here, how about we let these nice people do their job, and I’ll be with you the whole time?” He asked.

Just his touch did absolute wonders to soothe my anxiety.

After I agreed, the doctor and nurses got to work.

It was humiliating when the police officers and them had to ask more… personal questions.

“We’ve been trying for a baby,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes on me. “Including this morning… and we can get… passionate.” Then he looked down at the doctor, who was almost half a foot shorter than him. “Would it be prudent to tell you what… marks I caused?”

“I see,” the doctor said calmly, not giving anything away. He’d probably seen a shit ton of weird sex stuff over the years. “Yes, yes, it would. Would this bite mark happen to be from you?” He didn’t hesitate once he saw the mark on my breast, nodding. “Yes.”

The time in the hospital seemed to drag on and on and on, and I just wanted to go home. Everything felt so fucking tedious.

“Can I please bring my wife home?” He asked with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s exhausted and traumatized, and she just wants to sleep, and not on that shitty stretcher you guys call a bed.”

The bed that I had been sitting on for hours was as hard as a rock, the sheets as thin as paper. It didn’t help that they kept the room at a cool sixty-seven degrees.

When my husband put his mind to something, he got what he wanted. Always. Which I really enjoyed, because about ninety percent of the time, what I wanted lined up exactly with what he wanted. We were a team, him and I.

It was only about twenty minutes later that I’d been discharged and he was carrying me out to the car, cradling me like he did on our wedding night, and many nights before and after.

“How are you feeling, dove?” He asked as he brought my hand to his lips, getting closer to our home. Kissing each one of my knuckles, lavishing me with the love and affection he always did.

I didn’t know what I had done to get him as a husband, but I knew I was lucky as hell.

“I’m just really tired,” I said as I leaned over to rest my head against his shoulder. “When we get home, can we have hot cocoa? Watch a Disney movie?”

“Whatever my pretty girl wants.”

All the curtains were closed when we pulled up to the house, the front porch light off. Trees lined every side of the property, giving us privacy. The dark blue shutters were a nice contrast to the white brick. It almost looked like all of the stereotypical Grecian houses.

Before I could even undo my seatbelt, my dear husband was out of the car and opening my door, offering his hand to help me down.

Crickets chirped quietly in the night air, the wind rustling the tree leaves. The closest neighbor was half a mile away.

It was peaceful. Idyllic.

The second that my husband slid the key in the lock and pushed open the door, that peace disappeared.

“There she is! Star of the show!” Sam called out as he sat next to Wanda, the two of them working on counting several bags of the money.

Music was blasting from the television, hits from the 90s that gave a certain liveliness to it all.

I immediately forgot my exhaustion for the time being, flustered by my friends’ praise. While we were all in on it together, I was the one that had to go into the bank everyday for months, memorizing the layout and getting everyone around me to trust me to the point that I was given the code for the vault.

But now we’d get to spend at least four months on vacation before we chose another location, assumed new names, and did it all over again.

The others in our little rag tag group of bandits, Peter, Thor, Wanda, and Steve, were also working on counting the money, though Natasha was the one in charge of cleaning it all. They’d all changed out of their uniforms, into comfy pajamas, and several boxes of pizza laid open around the living room and kitchen.

Bucky was on me the second the door closed behind us, his lips attached to my neck as his free hand slid my rings back on my left ring finger. “Can’t believe she fucking thought it was a knock off. I only get my girl real Harry Winston,” he huffed, holding me close.

“Jamie,” I laughed, letting my head fall to the side as we waddled inside. “She didn’t know!”

But that didn’t deter him from kissing my fingertips all the way up to my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. I only get the best for my girl.”

“How did the whole doctor visit go?” Wanda asked as she completed counting yet another stack, marking it down after wrapping it with a rubber band.

“Perfect,” Bucky said, one large hand squeezing my hip as the other came up to my right ear to carefully take out the tiny earpiece Sam had designed, so they could listen in while I was working. “Just like we knew it would. My girl might as well be an Oscar-winning actress. Who’s that one actress you love so much, dove?”

“Meryl Streep?” I asked, raising my brows.

“Yeah!” He said, clearly pleased with how the day had gone. “She ain’t got nothing on you.”

I couldn’t help but snort as I leaned back against him, breathing in his scent. Was it a mix of sweat, shampoo, and cologne? Yes.

Did I find it all incredibly sexy?

Yes.

Steve smirked as he threw a stack of hundred dollar bills at Bucky, who easily caught it in the air. “You two go relax while we count. She deserves it after today,” he said, giving me a pointed look.

He didn’t have to tell me twice. The little second-wind I had gotten at seeing the labors of our hard work had dwindled quickly, my entire body aching. It had taken so much out of me, but these jobs always did.

Strong hands guided me to the giant bathroom of the master bedroom, lifting me up to sit on the marble countertop.

My husband got down on one knee in front of me, carefully slipping off my heels that had been retrieved from the bank for me and tossing them back into the bedroom. “I’m so proud of you, dove,” Bucky whispered as he took one foot in his hand, massaging my arch. Being on my feet for long periods of time always caused my flat feet to ache, and heels made it even worse.

“I didn’t mean to cry so much,” I said as he switched to the other foot, avoiding his eyes. “It all just felt like… like so much.” A fresh wave of tears came over me, hands trembling. “But I’m so relieved that Ben is gone.”

“Hey. Hey,” Bucky said as he stood up, cupping my face in his hands. Slightly chapped lips found mine, locking me into a passionate kiss and disrupting my thoughts of uselessness, helplessness.

Kissing him was like an anchor, bringing me back down to Earth. Keeping me from spiraling. He was my safe haven. My harbor.

“We weren’t supposed to kill anyone. Ever,” I said, hiccuping against his lips. “A-Are we bad people?”

I didn’t care about the stealing money thing. We only took from big branches that could afford it, not tiny little small town banks.

This was the farthest we’d ever gone during a robbery.

Bucky’s hand pressed against the small of my back, keeping me close to his chest.

I was spiraling, falling down the rabbit hole as the world spun around me.

“Ben also isn’t supposed to be raping people,” he said, his words stern. Calloused fingers tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “He was not a good man, dove. We have no idea how many women he did it to before then, and how many people he did it to after.” His strong hand cupped my cheek. “I don’t think we’re bad people for taking out an evil in the world. And besides… you didn’t do it, okay? I did. Your hands are clean, pristine,” he said, kissing my knuckles. “My sweet little angel.”

My husband had wanted to kill him that very day, had fought against me continuing to work at the bank and finishing the job, but I wouldn’t let him. In my mind, my safety was just a blip in the plan.

In his mind, my safety was his top priority. To him, nothing mattered more. No amount of money in the world, no jewels, nothing.

But I’d fought him, insisting that the good of the group, the work we’d already put in, was worth more.

He’d only agreed when I said he could take care of it during the heist. Nobody would question why he’d died if it was a bank robbery gone wrong, and there would be no evidence or thought in the police’s mind that Miss Valerie Wood’s loving husband, Sebastian Wood, could have done it when he was at work thirty minutes away.

And who would think that Mr. Wood would ever fuck his wife in a bank vault while everyone listened?

We’d debated for a long time whether we were going to do the scene in the vault after what happened with Ben. He hadn’t wanted to do it after that horrific shift, but I’d reminded him that he wasn’t him. He was my husband, not the creepy bank manager.

It did help that we’d played around with roleplaying a lot before in our years being together.

“You’re the brains of this operation, dove,” he’d said that night, cleaning me over and over until the feeling of Ben’s hands on my body had disappeared. “I’m just the lovesick brute at your beck and call.”

Bucky made sure that I never forgot how much he loved me, and I never thought I’d have that.

I also never imagined I’d be the Bonnie to someone’s Clyde either, with our own little found family, but here we were.

“Let me take care of you, dove,” Bucky murmured as he lifted me up off the counter to set me back on my feet. His forehead rested against mine, calloused fingers tugging down the zipper that ran down my back ever so slowly. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the heat of my skin, sending shivers down my spine and goosebumps along my arms. “I love you so much…”

“I love you more,” I said, in a daze as he brought me into the shower, washing away the stress of the day.

Bucky’s lips pressed against my shoulder as we stood under the warm water, his fingers intertwining with mine so he could bring my hand up to his lips. “First thing I’m gonna do with our new paycheck is buy you another Harry Winston piece to match your wedding ring,” he grumbled. The eye roll was audible in his tone as he kissed each of my fingertips. “Knock off Harry Winston… Who the fuck does she think I am?”

A laugh bubbled up in my chest as I leaned my head back against his shoulder. “Are you really this pressed about Nina thinking it’s a knock off?” I giggled, watching my ring glint in the dim light of the shower. “I’m surprised she even had enough knowledge to name the exact ring.”

“Yes! I am bothered by it!” He insisted with a huff. “She thinks I’m cheap!”

“To be fair, she thinks Sebastian Wood is cheap,” I pointed out, turning in his arms. My hands ran up his chest, tangling in his hair. “But I know my husband, James Barnes, is anything but… My husband is generous… sexy… funny… kind…,” I listed off, punctuating each word with a kiss along his chest. Bucky moaned, lip caught between his teeth. “Tell me more about this husband of yours…”

“He looks hot as fuck in a ski mask.”

His hand squeezed my ass, pushing my body up against his. “And don’t you forget it,” he said, giving a teasing nip to my nose.

The water was starting to turn cold, and we finally got out. My husband wrapped me up in a large, fluffy towel, the thirty second walk to the bedroom turning into a ten minute stroll thanks to his incessant kisses.

“I believe I promised someone hot cocoa and Disney,” he said after pulling one of his shirts over my head. Bucky sat me down on the bed, carefully going through my hair routine as my eyes fluttered shut.

My husband had insisted on learning my hair and skin routine so he could do it for me, wanting to pamper me every chance he could.

“Those pretty eyes shut?” He murmured after finishing with my hair, grabbing my serums and moisturizers and gently applying them. “Good girl… So pretty…” He finished with a kiss to the tip of my nose. “You pick out a movie and I’ll get your hot cocoa, okay?”

The movie played in the background as I laid back against Bucky’s chest, my cocoa in hand.

“If we… If we did get pregnant… what would we do?” I asked quietly, voice trembling. In truth, we weren’t really trying.

We were ‘practicing.’

“Are you… Are you wanting to get pregnant?” He asked, moving so we could look each other in the eyes. His eyes were bright, pupils dilated. “I know we’ve talked about it before. If you’re ready, I’m ready.”

“No, no,” I said quickly, cupping his cheek. “I’m not ready yet, and I don’t think I will be for a while. But… what will we do?”

Bucky’s eyes roamed over my face for a long time, leaning into my hand. “I wanna give our babies the life we never had growing up, dove. I think we should homeschool our kids, take them all over the world.” His arms wrapped around me in the sweetest embrace. “I can’t imagine us ever leaving our little family… so maybe we start investing in real estate and stuff like that… or start a business. Something that’ll let us stay with our kids, travel.”

It sounded like a dream, and I never thought that I’d be in a position one day where it could come true.

“Are you happy?” He asked then, surprising me. “With… With this life? I swore to you that I’d give you everything in the world, and I know that this isn’t the most conventional way, but I—”

“Jamie, baby, I have everything I could have ever dreamed of just by having you as my husband,” I said, letting my hand with the giant Harry Winston rest on his chest. “All of the money… everything could disappear into dust right now, and I wouldn’t care as long as I’ve got you.”

“I love you so much,” he breathed out as he stole a kiss, all the tension leaving his body. But as he pulled back, an impish grin came over his face.

I raised a single brow, knowing he was up to something. “What?”

“Dove, I really wanna fuck you on a pile of money,” He breathed out.

Snorting, I fell back against him. “We’ve done that so many times, James.”

“Is that a ‘no?’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright, Crime Whores, that’s the end of the Barnes’s story,” Caroline said as she read from her sources. “However, you can read Mrs. Barnes’s actual diaries online. We’ve got the link on our website, killerlove.com, under this episode’s page. And hey, maybe we’ll do a few Patreon episodes on more of their heists if our listeners would be into it.”

Lizzie raised her hand, a sheepish smile on her face as her best friend ‘called’ on her.

“Yes, Liz?”

“Is it bad that I kind of… don’t think they’re that bad?” She asked as she turned in her spinny chair. “And quite frankly, I would also kill that bank manager’s neck. Sorry, but… not really.”

“I agree!” Caroline rushed to say, her eyes bright. “It’s the Bonnie and Clyde that we deserved, quite frankly.” She then leaned in a little closer to the mic. “So that is it for this week’s episode. You all have a great week, and remember, stay crazy.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n

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wint3r-h3art · 3 years

Note

Omg why didn’t I think about Dad Shangqi!

I think he and the little kiddo preparing for their wedding anniversary to surprise reader (something like that!)😬

I think that’ll be cute hehe. But feel free to expand the ideas! Take your time and thank you! :)

Happy anniversary, babe | Shangqi & child!OC

A/N: I'm finally in fluffy mood now aha! Thank you for sending this <3 I do hope this is fluffy and warm enough! If you like this, please reblog! Any comments and like are appreciated.

Warning: None. Just fluffy, sweet domestic stuff

Your eyes crack open at the soft tapping sound. You’re greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and what’s this?! Bacon?!

You roll around, only to find an empty space next to you. Your brows pull into a deep frown, but that thought is soon gone when you find your 3-year old trying very hard to wedge herself in your arms.

“Morning, mama,” Li Mei greet you cheekily. Her forehead is a bit sticky and her breath smells like pancake syrup.

“Hi, baby,” you croak softly as you snuggle closer to her small, soft form. “You’re up early. What’s going on? Why do you smell like syrup?”

She blinks at you once or twice before she wiggles herself out of your grasps and runs out of your bedroom with a loud giggle.

“A-Mei, answer me!” you chuckle softly as yell out as you slowly get up and follows her into the kitchen.

“Baba! Baba!” you can hear your daughter calling out to Shangqi. “Baba, Mama comin.”

“It’s ok, baby,” you hear your husband says softly to your daughter.

“I’m gonna getcha!” you announce as you round the corner before you find yourself stunt at the layout in front of you. There are plates of food like waffles, pancakes, bacon, sausage links, scrambled eggs, coffees, orange juice, and of course the big bouquet of flowers.

Standing behind the table with the biggest and goofiest grin on his face, stands your husband in an apron, holding your daughter in one arm, while the other holds a spatula. You can feel your face grows warmer as your gaze meets with his. You can feel your heart fluttering slightly, just like it’s always is when you look at Shangqi.

You open your mouth to speak but find yourself speechless. It takes a couple of tries before the words come out.

“W-what are all these?” you ask, stepping forward before Shangqi greets you with a soft peck on your lips. You can hear Mei Mei giggles near you before you turn to kiss her too.

“It’s for you, Mama,” Mei Mei says proudly.

“Happy anniversary, babe,” Shangqi smiles at you, and you feel like you can fly.

“Oh my God, you made all of these for me?!”

He nods. “Mei Mei insisted on making you breakfast today, even though I booked us a nice reservation tonight already.”

“Did you really, baby?”

Li Mei nods proudly. “Mei Mei and Baba cook for you cuz we love you.”

You can feel yourself tearing up as you take her from your husband. “Oh baby, thank you. Mama loves these so much. You’re the sweetest,” you say as you place an adoring kiss on her little chubby cheek. Li Mei giggles softly before you placed her on her chair.

Mei Mei is too occupied with dipping her small, cubby fingers into a bowl of fresh whipped cream and licking it. Her little feet dangling on the high chair as she pays no mind to you or your husband.

“And thank you too for all of these. You must have woken up on God knows when,” you say before kissing him.

Shangqi chuckles. “It’s all good, babe. Anything for my lady, obviously.” Then his expression shifts into something mischievous. “Since A-Mei will be sleeping over at Katy’s tonight, you and I can cook up something too,” he says quietly so that only you can hear him. “I’m thinking about wearing this again...just it of course.”

Your face grows hotter at this, and you cannot help but bite your lips. “Of course,” you smile before yelp out by the way he subtly pinches your butt. You narrow your eyes at him before taking a seat next to your daughter. Shangqi only replies with a wink.

#shang chi fluff #dad!shangqi #shang chi & child!oc #shang chi x reader #shang chi x you #shang chi x y/n #shang chi #katy chen #domestic fluff #shang chi fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Note

May I request a fluffy Kyojuro x fem reader modern au scenario? It's Valentine's Day and she's planning to give him chocolates due to her big crush on him. But before she has a chance to do so, she sees another woman offer chocolates to him and the reader backs out last second. Feeling discouraged, she begins to head home but Kyojuro sees her and runs up to her. Turns out, he was looking for her all day because he wanted to give her chocolates too! I love how you write, I'm a big fan!!

Awwww, thank you so much! Happy Valentine’s Day, dear!

‘life is like a box of chocolates’ / Rengoku K. x Reader

warnings: none

words: 945

Ah, Valentine’s Day – easily one of the most complicated days of the year.

You hate it.

For the entirety of the school day, you’ve seen couples acting more lovey dovey than usual, practically sticking together and refusing to leave each other’s side. It’s also a day well known for confessions, to spill your heart’s contents to the one you pine after. You figure that’s why you’re in such a bad mood; like man others, you yearn to reveal your true feelings, to have someone accept them and treat your heart with great care.

In your hands is a small box, the outside covered with pink tissue paper and a white ribbon. You slaved over the homemade chocolate inside, pouring as much love as you could into it. They taste delicious (in your opinion, anyway), and you hope that the person they’re meant for will enjoy them as well.

Your heart swells at the mere thought of your crush – Rengoku Kyojuro. He’s popular amongst the students, best know for his friendly demeanor and contagious excitement. He’s not the smartest, but his selfless nature and happy-go-lucky personality has made him an easy favorite. He’s just so nice, always willing to help others and encourage them to do their best. He also happens to be devastatingly handsome; blessed with broad shoulders and a strong build, he’s a natural athlete, so you know he’s jacked.

(Not that you care, but it would be nice to run your hands over his thick pectorals or the hard lines of his back.)

The thing is, with a guy like him being so popular, does he even know you? Luckily, the two of you are in the same class, but the point still stands. It’s not like you’re close friends – more like acquaintances, really – but you’ve always admired him. He’s friendly towards everyone, so you doubt that you’re the one who receives special treatment.

Glancing around the row of cubbies, you spot Kyojuro standing before his, shoving whatever supplies he needs into his backpack. It appears he’s a lone straggler, just like you. However, upon closer inspection, you notice the slight downward curve of his mouth, the furrow in his thick brows. Your heart aches at the thought of something bothering him; you want to reach out, tell him everything will be okay, maybe give him a hug while you’re at it.

The box of chocolates in your hands feels impossibly heavy. If you want to give them to him, now’s your chance. If he regrets you, at least it won’t be in front of a crowd.

“Rengoku-san?” a small, timid voice picks up. At the other end of the line of cubbies, a petite girl comes forward, her long ponytail swinging behind her. She’s pretty, no doubt about that. A lump forms in your throat as your breathe stills.

Turning to the girl, you can no longer see Kyojuro’s face, but the tension in his shoulders seem to ease a bit. “Ah, hello!” he chirps, just as loud as ever. “Is there something I could help you with?”

At that, the girl blushes, her pretty face adorning a shade of rose. “It’s just that… Well… I really like you, Rengoku-san! Please accept my feelings along with these box of chocolates!” With her proclamation, she pulls out the box from behind her back and offers it to Kyojuro.

Your heart drops to your stomach. Oh no, you’re too late. A stinging force lingers in the back of your eyes, but you will the tears to stay. All this time, you’ve been wanting to confess to Kyojuro like that, to have him smile and hold your hand in his. But now…

Glancing at the box in your hands, you wince. There’s no point in giving them to him now, not when a beauty like that is giving her own. With a sniffle, you turn away and take off down the hall, no longer caring if anybody catches you. A blast of cold air hits you square in the face as you step outside, the afternoon sun tinged a dull white. Curse February and its dreary weather; it almost seems to reflect your crestfallen mood, the lonely pang in your heart.

As you take off away from the school, you’ve only made it past the gates when there’s a call of your name. Turning around, you see Kyojuro hurrying up to meet you, his face tinged pink from the cold.

“Rengoku-san…?”

“Hey!” he greets, his voice cracking towards the end. He clears his throat. “I uh, I wanted to talk with you earlier, but I couldn’t find the chance…”

Hold on – he wanted to talk to you? What for? Cocking your head, you silently urge him to continue.

A sheepish smile cracks his face as he slips his backpack off of one shoulder and unzips it. He fishes out a bright red box in the shape of a heart, a white box adorning the top. Somehow, the blush on his face darkens. “I wanted to give you these!” he says hurriedly. “Will you… Will you be my valentine?”

Your eyes widen. No way.

Seeing the box in your hands, Kyojuro’s smile drops. “Oh… If you already have one, then that’s okay-“

“No!” you squeak, frantically shaking your head. You shove the box against his chest, your face feeling warm. “These are for you!”

For a moment, Kyojuro doesn’t say anything. A slight snicker passes through his lips before he full on giggles, his entire body shaking from it. Both of his arms snake around you, then, and he pulls you into a hug. “I got myself a sweetheart,” he says, his voice warm. “Thank you.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #kny kyojuro #request

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fragileizywriting · 3 years

Text

bad day blues

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 10,418 chapter: 1/1 rating: E summary: “How is it that I can sling myself across rooftops for years, day and night, but I can’t even walk in a straight line once I’m out of my suit and end up spraining an ankle?” “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mousey. That’s not good for you.” “I wish I wasn’t such a klutz.” “You’re not.” Luka kisses the top of her head as a punctuation to his words. “You just had a bad day, that’s all.” “One of the worsts in a while,” Marinette nods into his shirt. “Luka? Could you make it better for me?” He laughs. “And you call me the insatiable one, little mouse.” Her eyes sparkle. “Who was the one that jumped me when I was going to go shower after my pool trip with my friends? One look at me in a towel and suddenly my boyfriend’s hands are all on me— sounds pretty insatiable, if you ask me.” AO3 | Start Here To Read The Whole 'Out of The Closet' Series! | Previous Fic in Series | Next Fic in Series

Here's some more Lukanette! Don't worry, there's plenty more incoming, too. This series is so wonderful to write, I'm having so much fun!!! Especially since Luka is my favorite character 🥺

Enjoy <3

She’s having a bad day.

Like, a really bad day.

There is that whole cake ordering business that her parents live off of, that she helps out with. She’s rolled so much fondant out that her arms hurt, and they’re barely attached to her body when she’s rushing out of the door to get to her class when the second bad part of the day happens.

She spills coffee all over herself.

Well, it isn’t her coffee. Her dad’s been getting into the habit of walking around the bakery and the pantry with his mug she got for him for his birthday, a delicate piece of ceramic that is absolutely dwarfed by her father’s large hands. She’d knocked into him while scarfing down some breakfast of her own, where she’d tried to get bits and pieces of it into her mouth while rolling out fondant for that particular eight-tiered cake that is surely going to be the death of her that she still has to pipe and decorate when she gets back from class.

Her blouse is stained, and it’s warm. It doesn’t seep far into her shirt, because her dad presses his apron right on the stain to soak up as much moisture as possible, but she yelps anyway out of sheer instinct.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine! I’m so sorry for making you spill your coffee, baba. Are you okay?” She waves him off with a little smile. These things happen, it’s okay. Besides, smelling like coffee isn’t the end of the world. It isn’t the smell of a particularly expensive perfume, but she can hardly say no to smelling like coffee when she’s lived at a bakery for the entirety of her life.

“I ran into you, sweetheart, not the other way around,” Her dad shakes his head. “Go change your shirt while I get you some packed food to take with you to school for you and Mullo.”

“Thank you! I’ll be right back.” She kisses him on the cheek, making sure to stay clear away from his mug. She rushes up the stairs, trying her best not to accidentally tear her skirt, but isn’t as delicate to her blouse as she could be. The side rips open. She squeaks while getting it off. “Oh, no! I just bought this!”

“Oh! Is everything okay?” Mullo peeks out from the little cubby Marinette’s made into her own little room.

“Yeah— I’m okay! These things happen, don’t worry. I’m just going to change my shirt into something better and then we can head out, okay?” She snaps open a drawer, tossing her soiled top into the laundry bin near her desk. She’s not opposed to wearing other shirts with this particular skirt, but… she really likes wearing that peter pan collar. This is fine. A normal button-up will go fine with the skirt, even though now she looks a lot more formal than she wants to be.

It’s a good thing her bra is nude-colored. She’s already in a rush as it is.

She hasn’t learned a single thing since school was at a walking distance, clearly, because she’s rushing to get to the metro, running back down the stairs, tugging her backpack over her shoulder with Mullo zipping into the pocket of her skirt, and kissing her dad goodbye and thanking him for the food— all the while trying her best to go over the list of things she needed to do before heading off to class.

Feed Mullo, though the little mouse can definitely go scavenging for blueberries whenever she wants. And yet… Mullo starts to whisper that she’s hungry the moment Marinette makes it down the stairs of the metro and goes pawing for her metrocard. She’s grateful that she’s placed a small container of fresh blueberries inside her backpack, with even a portion of small chocolate chips in the screw-top compartment of the container, just for the little mouse— and the small kwami is giggling and back to being happy before Marinette can even blink.

She looks for her metrocard. It’s on the inside of her phone case, which is good, so she’s able to go through the ticket booth with no problem— thank goodness. She doesn’t need another stressor for the day— but she needs to make sure she repays the bill for her monthly pass before the next month arrives so that she isn’t late trying to pay for it the day of, and hopefully she can remember this thought for long enough to write it into her agenda so she doesn’t forget during the week.

Oh, gooseberries. Hopefully she’s not late.

She checks the time on her phone once she’s safely situated inside a subway car, only to look at the turned-off screen with a confused noise. She tries turning on her phone but blinks with so much confusion when the black screen refuses to light.

Wasn’t one of the things on her list to make sure that her phone was charged last night?

What in the world happened to her phone battery?

She tries to think about it, pinning down that the only real reason it would be out of battery would be if Mullo wanted to use it to watch videos or listen to music while Marinette was asleep.

She makes sure to unzip her bag, peering down at the little mouse kwami with inquisitive eyes, trying to understand why her only communication device isn’t charged, speaking in a hushed voice to not alert anyone in the subway car with her. “Lolo, did you watch videos last night?”

Mullo is asleep. At least she remembered to put the lid back onto the container, which is some good news. Marinette can’t feel too upset, looking at the little creature. It’s a good thing she packed her bag and made sure to grab her portable charger— it’s not often that Mullo gets in the habit of overusing Marinette’s phone— but she’s always prepared, just in case. Mullo likes texting Sass, too, though all their texts look like gibberish to her and Luka whenever they try to reread it.

She opens the front pocket zipper with the cute little mouse charm attached to the handle and freezes.

This isn’t her school backpack.

She’s not sure how it didn’t dawn on her before, but this isn’t the right backpack at all.

The only thing it has is a plastic bag with her swimsuit she’d used during the weekend— it’s not exactly dry, given that it’s been in the baggy for at least four days since she’d come back from the pool with her friends. That’s strange— she’s not one to just drop her bag off to the side and not put away her stuff— so, what gives? She chews on her nail while she thinks about what could’ve possibly distracted her from hanging up her swimsuit and letting it dry, and stopped her from putting away this particular backpack, and squeaks to herself when she remembers.

Oh. Right. That’s right.

Viperion had shown up in her room just as she was going to go take a shower— having completed patrol on his own because he wanted her to have fun with friends and go swimming— and since her boyfriend is somehow allergic to learning how to swim, he’d happily shoved her out of the house with the pretense of keeping Paris safe while she relaxes for once in her life— no wonder she’d been so distracted and completely forgot about the backpack.

He’s so insatiable, nowadays, wanting to spend so much time with her that it’s completely pointless to try to keep clothes on around him. He’d taken one good look at her while she was making her way to her bathroom tucked into her towel and had decided to wash her himself— joining her in the shower without even taking his suit off.

She knows that their hexleather is water-resistant— but she didn’t know that it’s enough to keep water from completely entering his suit.

He’d cleaned her inside and out— pressed her up against the bathroom tiles, hopeful that she would keep quiet, as Viperion slicked two fingers inside of her.

The hexagonal grooves on their suits had never been something she’d even considered until now— it was obsession at first touch, in all honesty.

Her back is filled with love bites and possessive teeth marks that make her toes curl in her shoes when she thinks about it more, or remembers it whenever she brushes up against her shoulders. Not to mention she feels a comfortable full-body ache when he finally slips away to go home— she’d spent the rest of that afternoon in bed, curled up, dreaming of the day the two of them can always wake up next to each other.

She shifts in her seat, feeling damp and uncomfortable. She misses him already.

But all of that means… her school backpack is still at home. And she’s carrying nothing except her wet swimsuit, instead of her agenda and planner and notebooks and sketchbooks and pens.

Oh, sugarcubes.

It’s fine, though. These things happen. Sometimes no matter how much she plans and prepares, the universe sometimes throws her for a loop, and that’s okay. A good planner knows how to plan for things going wrong— even if she doesn’t want it to happen in the first place.

In all honesty, this is probably not what Luka meant when he said to let things flow and don’t let things bother her, but it is kind of hard to stop her tendencies to want to plan for the worse.

Okay, so how does she fix this?

She has a lecture that starts in about twenty minutes that she can technically skip out on and go back home to grab her things, assuming she switches subways at the next stop. Since she’ll be late, she might as well change out of her clothes, too, into something much more suited for her. She doesn’t like wearing button-downs— especially since, oh, gooseberries, it looks like she’s missed out on about three buttons and gotten her neckline skewed. There’s no point in even fixing it, as long as she’s able to tuck her miraculous back underneath her shirt without someone seeing it.

What else does she need to do?

Well, she definitely needs to make sure she gets the right backpack the next time she slips through the door. Make sure to bring another container of blueberries, too— she never knows when there’ll be another Akuma, and of all things to not be worried about, this is something she’ll never stop.

Everything will be okay. No worries. The lecture wasn’t that important, she’s sure of it.

The moment she makes that same thought, the subway car slows to a crawl. The lights in the car flicker, and she looks around to the other passengers, hopeful to see anyone who has any idea of what’s going on.

Everyone looks nonchalant. They probably assume it’s an Akuma, at this point.

“We are having technical difficulties,” The subway car emits a tinny, metallic little noise from the speakers near the doors. “Please stay calm and wait while we fix it.”

Marinette groans. Okay, maybe she’ll be late for a lot more than just her first class. This is fine. Things happen. Things like this just happen— she just needs to relax about it. At least it’s not an Akuma— and it’s not like she can be blamed for the subway being stuck.

There’s just nothing to entertain her, though. No pencil, no pen, no paper to doodle and keep her occupied. No phone to listen to music or keep her busy. Just her, the plastic bag with her swimsuit in it, a sleeping kwami, her breakfast, and half a container of chocolate chips. She might as well start eating now, since there’s nothing else to do— eat and think about her boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes.

-*-

She has— well, had— a pop quiz in her missed lecture.

Worth twenty percent of her grade.

She stumbles into the classroom after everyone’s starting to clear out, looking for the professor and her continuously bored glare she gives to the class on the regular. “Uhm, excuse me— sorry, I didn’t attend class today because of the metro—”

“You can’t make it up.” Her professor says, collecting a thick stack of paper into her briefcase. The only professor she’s ever met to actually use a genuine briefcase— it makes her look more like a lawyer and less like an introduction to fashion history professor.

“Make it up?” Marinette blinks, confused. “Make up— make up what, exactly? I wasn’t in class.”

“The quiz. Twenty percent of the grade, of course, because no one in class was answering my questions today for some reason.” Because Marinette’s the one who usually answers for everyone, of course. No one stepped in, probably, because they were most likely too comfortable with her answers to actually come up with one of their own. “You missed out on the quiz. You can’t make it up.”

“Oh.” That’s fine. Things happen. Sometimes the universe just throws curveballs— her grade in this class won’t suffer. “Uhm. Is— is that all I missed?”

Her professor gives her a good look. There’s something in her dull, tired eyes, like she registers who Marinette is in the class— and what she brings to the lecture hall. “I’m going to give you the homework, even though I technically shouldn’t. You’re a good student— you’ve never been late to class— and definitely never missed an entire lecture. And today, without your questions, it was completely and totally quiet.”

“Oh.” She repeats. “Th— uhm. Thank you.”

She pulls out another stack of papers, handing her a stapled group of paper from the top. It looks ridiculously thick— as in— maliciously thick. Maybe at least thirty pages. “Here’s the homework. Make sure to finish it by next class.”

One week to finish the assignment. No problem. She can do that.

“Of course,” Marinette breathes, slightly overwhelmed, looking over the title of the assignment. She has no idea where to begin— the lecture today must’ve been all about it. Maybe she can find one of her classmates and ask about it? Although, she’s never really made a friend here before… “Thank you very much.”

“Don’t make it a habit to skip,” The professor calls out to her as she leaves through the door.

“Understood,” Marinette mutters under her breath. The strap of her kitten heels breaks when she runs her foot too close along the doorframe as she leaves behind her. She trips, falling into her second person with a coffee today, spilling all over her shirt again. This time, it’s cold— it’s an iced latte, of course, and ice cubes fall down her collar and into her shirt, and pain blistering up her ankle.

She tries to walk it off, she really does, but it ultimately just collapses back onto the floor the moment she tries to put pressure on it. Mullo comes out of hiding when she makes sure that there’s no one around, asking if Marinette’s okay— and all she can do is just smile at the little kwami, trying her best not to wince.

Today just isn’t her day, is it?

-*-

By the time an Akuma actually comes around, and tries to do damage in the city of Paris, Multimouse is running on fumes from how close she is to breaking down.

She’s weaved and dodged most of the attacks, relying on her rope to get out of the way. Her ankle doesn’t hurt as much when in the suit, of course, because the magical properties of the miraculous make it so that they focus on the fight first than anything else. She can put her weight on it, which is the good news— and that’s enough for her to walk and run and jump rope when she needs to.

Seeing Viperion is such a blessing. She hasn’t been able to text him much all day, aside from the vague ‘good morning’ text she sent when she finally managed to get her phone to turn on— she’s been too busy to respond to all of the texts he’s sent throughout the day.

Hopefully, she can talk to him after the fight is over. She needs a little bit of downtime.

But she can’t exactly focus on how thankful she is to see him when she’s in the middle of weaseling out of the Akumas grabby hands. She tucks and weaves, snaps her rope out like a whip when she needs to, and does her best to roll out of the way of the Akuma that falls into their trap using the Liberty that sends him spiraling across the city with it. Viperion is nearly on the other side of the city taking care of the sentimonster when she feels her ankle start to blister in pain again, indicating that she’s putting far too much stress on the ankle for even magic to make it stop hurting.

By the time they’ve got the Akuma purified, the sentimonster dealt with, and the victim is in safe care with the social worker from the workforce that’s been assigned to assist people who have just been Akumatized— Multimouse can barely stand up. She chooses, instead, to keep sitting down on the lip of the sidewalk between a couple of parked cars, her legs spread out in front of her, trying her best to seem like she’s just out of breath. She keeps her right boot completely straight, hopeful to not put any more strain on her ankle, but lets her left boot sag against the asphalted road, and tries her hardest not to hide her face in her hands.

Viperion makes his way back to her after he’s done talking to the social worker.

“Mousey?”

“Hi, Vai,” She speaks into her gloves. Some battles are just too difficult for her to focus on, and trying to keep herself from doing something just isn’t worth the effort anymore. “That was a tough one, huh?”

He sits down next to her, shoulder to shoulder. There’s probably not enough space for him in between the cars, since his shoulders are wide, but he makes the effort anyway. Besides, if it’s truly that bothersome, all he has to do is give a gentle push to the car next to him— the miraculous suits give them extra strength, after all— but even without the suit, he’d probably be able to push it forward. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” She leans into him. “I missed you so much.”

“You didn’t text me today like you usually do,” He murmurs into her hair. He’s a thick wall of heat right next to her, and she’s so thankful for him like usual. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is— it’s fine— I’m sorry. I forgot to charge my phone last night, and Mullo was watching videos while I slept, so my phone just went kaput.” She smiles in her hands when he makes a noise meaning that he understands exactly what she means. “I only got to text you when my phone was back on. I’m just tired, really. I’m not having a good day.”

The road is going to be populated soon with whatever foot traffic it usually has, now that the Akuma’s been taken care of. They need to probably get up to higher ground before the people of Paris come out to ask for autographs or selfies— and, okay.

She wants to give everyone the best treatment possible, of course, but she’s in absolutely no condition to do that like this. Definitely not like this.

It’ll be better for everyone’s comfort if she doesn’t stay around to listen to what people have to say about the fight— she’s Paris’s sweetheart, she knows, but if anyone says anything remotely negative in her direction, she’s pretty sure she’ll start crying.

Not to mention that if she hears anything bad about Viperion, she’ll start crying while beating civilians off with a ten-foot pole. She’s not in the mood at all to continue behaving like the sweet little Parisian Princess today— she can’t do it.

“Are you stressed out?”

“Yes. Very much. Ironically, the Akuma was my break from stress. Imagine that?”

He laughs. It’s a loving noise, usually, but there seems to be an edge to it this time. “Do you want me to help you with that? I think I saw an alley over there. Let me help you relax.”

She steams red behind her gloves. Oh, she knows exactly what he means— and, well, the answer is always yes. “Yes— but maybe not here. People are going to show up, soon, and I’m already in pain as it is—”

Viperion looks at her. She can tell because her face starts to prickle underneath her gloves. “Pain?”

She takes a deep breath, looking up at him. His hair is starting to curl around his neck, it’s so lovingly him that she can’t help but comb her fingers into his hair and smooth it back. The confusion on his face morphs into contentment as she takes her time brushing his bangs back, getting a good look at what the top of his domino mask looks like. “Nothing’s wrong— things are fine. Everything is fine. Sometimes things happen, and we can’t control all of it.”

Liquid golden eyes look back at her when she’s done petting through his hair and, he— he smiles at her. Really smiles at her— he knows that she’s trying to repeat the quotes and virtues that he usually says to himself. His smile makes his domino mask crinkle, the scales on his hexleather shimmering turquoise and green, and it’s not exactly a front when she smiles back at him. “That’s true. Sometimes things happen that we can’t control, even if we really try, but sometimes we can fix whatever is hurting us. So what really happened, Mousey?”

“Just a bad day,” She uses her left foot to brush against his, taking her hands back from his hair to follow the scale pattern on his chest. The muscles underneath are no illusion— he’s truly that filled out. She likes physical contact with him, just as much as he loves physical contact with her— and she finds a certain kind of sweetness in the way he leans just slightly into her touch as she traces his collarbone. “I’m not kidding— I’ve been having a really bad day.”

“The Akuma didn’t help all that much, huh?”

She cups his cheeks with her palms. She can’t feel him, because her fingers are covered in protective hexleather, but it means all the same to her when she presses their foreheads together, smooshing their bangs against one another. “I don’t know about that. I’m getting to see you, after all— I love being able to see you, Vai.”

His eyes twinkle as he laughs, giving her a kiss. “Stand up for me? I want to check if you’re missing any body parts.”

“What? I’m not missing anything.” She finds herself laughing at the strange request. “See? Look: I have my two arms, my two legs. Tail is still here, and so is my miraculous.”

“I don’t know about that,” His face is oddly serious, even as she continues to giggle. “Wiggle your fingers for me so I know they’re still there.”

“Vai,” She makes a face as she laughs. When he implores her, she rolls her eyes, twiddling her fingers in the air. “Told you.”

“All ten fingers?”

“I think so,” She breaks into a grin. What is this man on about?

“Let’s see.” He takes her hands in his, bringing every single finger up to his mouth so he can count them with a kiss. “One. Two.”

“Oh my gooseberries. Vai,” She giggles hard enough for her shoulders to shake.

“Don’t make me lose count, Mousey, this is important. Three, four—”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?”

“I think it’s the other way around, honestly. Five, six— how did I get so lucky to have you?”

“By treating me like this,” She can’t help but bite her lip when he makes it past seven and eight. “By treating me so sweetly.”

“Sue me, little mouse. I like treating my girlfriend well. Nine, and ten.” At the tenth finger, he kisses where her fingernail would be, then her knuckle, then the back of her hand. He kisses up her arm, too, all the way up to her shoulder as she snorts and giggles, until he tilts his head and kisses her against the jaw, finally completing his quest and kisses her softly on the lips— she melts. He keeps the kiss soft, though— and if her ankle wasn’t rolled, she’d honestly climb into his lap for more than just something so chaste. She deserves it, after this horrible day— and he always makes her feel loved and comforted. “I think your hands are okay.”

“You think so?” She feels a little dopey from the kiss.

“Move your feet, too, so I can figure out if your legs are still attached.”

She moves her left foot only, letting her right boot rest. Instead, she pulls up her right leg, hoping to look like she’s just switching up her sitting position, but that’s enough for Viperion to break eye contact with her and look at her knee. “See?”

But he’s smarter than that. “Ah, there it is. So you did injure yourself during the fight?”

“No. I— uhm— no. Not during the fight.” She’s not lying, but her smile dies down as a quiet contemplation morphs on his face. “It’s— I’m fine, Vai, honestly, I’m okay. My ankle will be fine after some ice, I’m sure—”

“Oh, Mousey.” He looks hurt for her, immediately swiveling in his seat to look her over. He grabs gently for both of her legs, lifting them up to place in his lap, and gently starts to move her foot at the ankle back and forth.

The first leg is the good one, so she barely even reacts— let alone blinks— to him swiveling her ankle around and testing the elasticity. But her bad ankle— oh— it’s enough to make her start to squirm.

His eyebrows pinch when she continuously flinches, her half-sentient tail batting against the asphalt behind her as she tries her hardest not to cry out in pain. He supports the back of her ankle with his palm, and doesn’t let her foot rotate when he puts her leg back in his lap. “When did this happen, baby girl?”

“It happened at school,” She hides her face back into her gloves. “Just the cherry on top, honestly. I fell and twisted my foot. I thought I was okay, but— I can’t walk in my civilian form.”

“School? And you fought the Akuma while injured? Oh, Mousey— I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have let you stay alone with the Akuma if I had known. What else happened? Tell me what’s wrong.” She feels the gentle pressure of his thumb against her calf, even through the hexleather. “Maybe I can help you. I sure want to try, at least.”

Why is he so gentle with her? Why is Viperion always so sweet and soft to her— kind and loyal?

She knows why— there is the whole ‘they’re dating’ part of the answer— but honestly, how did it get this way? When did Viperion become the boy she fights crime with, day or night, live or die— to the man who snags her just before her showers, who makes it a habit to make her toes curl every time he sees her, who is happiest when she cuddles and routinely hides in his bed with? How in the world has she gotten this lucky?

How? How did she get so lucky to have a man so conditioned to care about her?

Why did he ever fall in love with someone like her— someone who needs everything to be in its place or else she has a nervous breakdown? Someone that loses her demeanor when there’s even a slightest mistake, because everything needs to be perfect or it’s not worth doing at all and— and— why would he even stay with someone like her like this? Why? She’s completely the opposite of him— so— why does he stay and deal with someone so completely different than him in every single aspect?

The thought is enough to make her cry— and— oh— that’s it, really. That’s what makes her push over the edge and start hiccuping into her hands, tears falling down her cheeks. “Oh—”

“Mousey, it’s okay. Shh. Your ankle will get fixed up in no time, okay? We can fix this.”

“I’m sorry,” She says, more to herself than anything else, gesturing to her leg before hiding back in her hands. She sags against him so easily when he pulls her onto his lap. “I’m sorry— I’m so sorry, Vai. It’s not just— just the ankle— I’m just—”

“I know.”

“And— such a bad day—”

“Breathe, Mousey,” He traces circles against her back.

She gasps for breaths between sobs. “And I just— I really did try to not let it get to me— I really tried—”

“You did very good. You are doing very good.”

“It really hurts, Vai, I’ve never rolled my foot before, it’s so painful— and I know I’m going to be in more pain when I’m out of the suit. I’m so exhausted, Vai— today has been so difficult.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Where does she begin? “So much coffee on my shirt, I smell like an espresso machine—”

He listens to her ramblings, even if they don’t make any sense without the full context. He’s gentle when he shifts her even closer, making sure that her foot doesn’t hit up against the car next to them, tucking her in next to his collarbone and letting her cry it all out. His chest is so warm against her. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“And then the subway— and I don’t have more blueberries for Lolo right now because she ate them all already, even after I went back home and refilled her cup—”

“We can get more in my house, it’s okay. All the blueberries Mullo could want.”

“And I was also stuck in the subway for two full hours with just a swimsuit—”

“You went on the subway with only a swimsuit on?” He makes a face. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“In my bag,” She explains, even if it doesn’t make much sense, sniffling around her gloves. “I mean— I picked up the wrong backpack— the wrong bag— before leaving the house and it was just my swimsuit in there— the subway got stuck and I thought it was because of an Akuma so I was just—”

“Take a breath, Mousey.”

She sucks in a breath, trying to fill her lungs in all the way, before the inevitable fresh wave of tears that she continues to border on. “And I— I couldn’t— even text you. I couldn’t, because my battery was out— and I was underground— and— oh, sugarcubes, I was so bored— I just kept coming up with more and more ways to sneak off the train without being seen because there was nothing else to do and I ended up overthinking everything.”

Everything. All of it. Every single thing. If she’s doing well in school— if what she’s trying to get a degree in is even worth it— if she’s wasting her time not focusing on defeating Hawkmoth— if Viperion even finds her necessary in fights. After all, most of what she does is just a distraction for him to get close and defeat the Akuma— but there’s not really a genuine need for her since all he has to do is move his ouroboros miraculous over to the side and turn back time and do whatever needs to be done, right?

“I thought about how you’re so much better without me during Akuma battles— I thought how much of a klutz I am— I thought about how I always have these nervous breaks whenever something goes wrong and you always just deal with them and I wish I could just stop worrying about every little thing without making it into a thing— and— and—”

Gentle hands make it to her wrist, and she looks up, sniffling and biting her lip. Viperion’s smile looks soft on his face as he wipes away her tears— golden eyes looking at her like she’s the most important thing in the world. He kisses her forehead, her cheeks— her nose, too— all in favor of getting a smile back onto her face. “None of that is true, okay? There’s no need to overthink about any of it anymore. You’re okay, you’re here— exactly where I need you to be. You are the entire reason why Paris is safe every day— I’m just here to keep you company, in all honesty. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, little mouse, and I absolutely cannot do any of this without you.”

Amazing woman? Has he met his own mother before? “But— what about your family—”

“I’m aware of what I’ve said,” He smiles. “I don’t deal with your problems, we deal with our problems. You getting worked up about something is something we both work on together— I’m not going to let you suffer alone when you’re nervous about something.”

She blinks slowly at him, her lashes damp and full of tears, only being able to offer him a watery and a heartful: “Oh.”

He nods, encouraging her to smile back. “Everything’s going to be fine, just like it always is, okay? You’re not a klutz. You’re doing great. Everything is going to be fine.”

“But—”

“Breathe, Mousey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She looks at him in the eyes, her breath slowing down, looking around them to see just how empty the street is. It’s an unpopulated street to begin with, so there are only a couple of shops at the corners, nowhere near them where they sit in between the cars, catching their breath from the battle. “I’m— I’m going to be okay. I am okay.”

“You’re okay.” He nods, smiling gently, taking her hands in his.

“I’m— I’m fine.” She takes another breath. She still feels watery, still feels like a wet sponge, but it’s a little easier to breathe. “Sometimes days just don’t go my way, no matter how much I plan for it.”

“Good, good— but you’re forgetting the second half of that.”

“The second half?”

“For every day that it happens, whenever your days don’t go right, I’ll be right here for you to cry on because you and I have always been a team.” He kisses her bangs, smoothing his gloves at the back of her head, behind the buns in her hair. “As much as I don’t like seeing you cry, baby girl, I know that I’d rather see that, than have you bottle it up inside.”

She sniffles, giving him a little smile when he pulls away to gauge her reaction. “Thank you, Vai.”

“I love you.” He kisses her on the lips again.

“I love you, too.” She ducks her head as a blush stains her cheeks underneath her domino mask. “Oh, I’m— I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For crying on you and turning this into a mess.”

“My girlfriend seeking out comfort from me— what a scandal, little mouse,” He teases with a flash of his fangs. “How dare my Mousey want reassurance from me.”

She has the reflex to giggle, even though there’s a bit of tears still trying to make its way down her face. “It’s probably not what you had in mind for today, huh?”

“All I had was work today,” He wipes at her cheek again. “The Akuma is always unpredictable, but it’s not like your parents don’t know why I have to leave the register when our phones start to ding with the Akuma notification, right? And I’m always thinking of you, so, in a way this is sort of what I had in mind.”

She kisses him. It’s not as quick as it should be— it definitely isn’t as innocent as it has to be, given that they’re in public and they haven’t technically told the public yet that Viperion and Multimouse are more than just a duo, not to even mention that they’re a lot, lot more than a duo now, if her wandering hands are any indication— but she breaks away just before she has the urge to shift her position on him, laughing softly when he narrows his eyes at her. “We should— uhm— probably go back, right? Your mom is probably calling your phone right now, asking why in heaven’s name you picked the Liberty for the trap location— Alya will be here any moment now to ask things for the Ladyblog.”

“Hmm? What did you say? I was too busy living in the moment of hearing you laugh again. Such a sweet melody.” He looks back up to her from looking at her ankle. She has no idea what’s going on in that head of his— and it bothers her, because she so desperately wants to know, even as he gives her a wink and a smile.

She’s so thankful for this man. So ridiculously thankful.

She bites her lip to stop herself from smiling harder. “We need to go. Out of here. And I need a favor.”

“I’ll do whatever you need, Mousey. What is it?”

“I need you to marry me.”

His eyes widen, completely caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean— I mean carry—” She gasps, hiding her hands behind her mouth. “Oh gooseberries— I’m so sorry. Sorry! I meant carry, I promise! Slip of the tongue, oh sugarcubes— I’m so sorry— that’s not what I meant at all.”

“Breathe, Mousey, come on.” He snorts so hard that he has to hide his face behind his hands, shoulders shaking in mirth. “Obviously I’ll carry you. That’s without question— I’m not letting you walk like that. Come on, let’s get you back home.”

-*-

Marinette’s finally sleeping by the time he’s back into her room.

They’ve wrapped and bandaged her foot, kept it elevated and out of the way for her. She sleeps soundly, even as he struggles with her trap door to not make any noise. He’s not good at being quiet when he really tries— the universe is always out to get him whenever he tries to do something quietly. Or maybe he just gets too self-aware of himself.

“How’s she doing, Sass?”

“She’s been sleeping for the whole time since you brought her home,” The little kwami answers just as softly. There’s a couple of doll-sized lounge chairs on her nightstand, as well as a small little dining table with a couple of cushioned seats— it looks like a playset, in all honesty, but they’re the perfect size for the two kwamis to sit and eat away at their food.

Sass looks like he’s finished with his eggs, which is good to see. Mullo is still working on her blueberries, chewing through each one almost anxiously as the two kwamis watch Marinette rest. He’s never known just how many blueberries is enough for Mullo, so he’d grabbed a heavy container full of it and put it in a small basket to keep her entertained.

“Is her foot going to be okay?” Mullo squeaks out.

“She’ll be fine,” Luka sits on the floor to be at eye level with the kwamis. He takes a couple of berries in his hands to snack on in order to have something to do. “She’s never hurt her ankle before, so it’ll heal up fast. Master Fu wrapped it up for her, after all— her uncle wouldn’t lie, would he?”

Both kwamis nod in agreement.

“I feel like this is all my fault,” The little mouse makes a face. “I should’ve helped her today, I shouldn’t have been quiet the entire time. Maybe things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. Maybe I could’ve told her she was taking the wrong bag— or maybe I could’ve remembered to plug in her phone. I fell asleep watching videos on mermaid history, I’m pretty sure— I don’t think the videos were worth her twisting her foot.”

Sometimes kwami and holder are really alike, huh? Even the face that Mullo makes is so reminiscent of Marinette, it’s incredible— he tries his best not to smile lovingly but can’t help himself. “It isn’t your fault at all, Mullo. There’s no point in thinking about what you should’ve done— all of it has already happened. It’s okay.”

“She’s never gotten injured like this before for as long as I’ve known her— and you said earlier that she hasn’t torn any muscles since I was given to Luka. Her ankle will heal before you know it.” Sass is quick to pet his friend’s arm. “But until then, she definitely won’t be able to act should an Akuma arrive.”

The room goes silent again as the three of them settle back into what they were doing. Sass is curled up, of course, enjoying the luxury of the little doll chair that is stuffed to the brim with cotton and sewn expertly shut. The dollhouse furniture looks well-loved, though— he’s under the assumption that Marinette most likely bought second-hand miniature sets for Mullo to play house in when she had first been given the mouse miraculous. There’s no dollhouse in sight around anymore, but the bookcase near Marinette’s bed still has two cubbies empty in favor of a little curtain pulled open to reveal two fake little rooms.

There’s a little closet rack full of little clothes. There are hats lined up against the bookshelf wall with two slits on the sides to make space for Mullo’s ears. There’s a doll bed with a blanket and a cushion— there’s a couch and potted plants all made out of felted material in order to decorate the space. A rug, too, underneath all the furniture.

All of these little trinkets and toys, so loved and cared for by a young girl and the love she has for her mouse— now something cherished by a young woman. “You know, I’ve always wanted to ask— how long have you two known her?”

“The Cheng family has always kept the miraculouses safe,” Mullo bites into another blueberry. “We’ve been passed down for generations.”

“Well, usually. Master Fu is the guardian right now, but he’s making sure that Marinette is the next guardian.”

“I know that, yes— but I meant Marinette specifically. How long have you two known Marinette?” He turns to her, wondering if she’s in any pain. The inflammatories must be working well in her system because there’s nothing on her face that indicates that her foot’s been wrapped and bandaged to stay still.

“We’ve known her ever since she was little. About eight years old, maybe? All of the kwamis loved playing house with her— the little princess was always so sweet and lovable. Growing up an only child was really lonely for her, so we played with her whenever we could.” The dollhouse furniture makes a lot more sense now. “You name it, we played it. Hide and seek, dollhouse, tea time, dress up— princess and the knight, too.”

Of course Marinette would’ve made them little clothes, how could she have resisted? The idea is adorable.

“Kaalki would frequently run away from Master Fu’s place in order to come play with her. Who could blame him? I for one loved it when it was tea time. Princess always made deviled eggs, just for me.” Sass slips his eyes shut to sleep. He always gets tired after eating his share of eggs following an Akuma attack— Luka’s thankful he works at a bakery, where eggs are plenty.

Sass is out like a light.

Mullo giggles to herself, holding a giant blueberry between her two paws, turning to him in her little chair, speaking as quietly as possible. Marinette may be asleep for longer, but Sass’s hearing is always so sensitive— they don’t want to wake either of them up. “I just ended up being the lucky one that got to stay with her. All of the other kwamis were really upset when they heard that I was her permanent friend— especially Kaalki. They all loved playing with her. We’re sure that Plagg and Tikki will love her, once we find them again.”

So much history between Marinette and the kwamis. No wonder Sass was so happy when they’d finally revealed their identities to one another. “Hey, Mullo— how come she didn’t tell me about her ankle?”

“She didn’t want to worry you.” Mullo replies in her soft, tiny voice. “You both needed to focus on the Akuma first.”

But in the end, she’d hurt herself. What he wouldn’t give to second-chance her ankle back to normal— but it’s been hours, not minutes, since it happened.

He takes his time eating the handful he’s picked from Mullo’s basket. The blueberry is sweet in his mouth, and tasteful, and something quiet to do while he looks at Marinette’s sleeping form. She’s working herself too hard, isn’t she? Trying to keep up with all the things at university— and trying to keep up with everything at home— and definitely trying to keep up with Akumas on top of it all. They haven’t technically even been on dates together, if that’s something she even wants, because her life is so full. It’s commendable, but watching the girl of his dreams get pulled in all different directions makes him understand entirely why a multitasking miraculous is the perfect one for her.

“You should rest, Luka. It’s getting really late.”

“I don’t know if I should— I don’t want to accidentally wake her up.”

“She’ll be more upset if she wakes up and you’re not in bed with her,” Mullo argues. He smiles, because he can’t help the humor at the sincerity of her words. “You should join her.”

He’d have to take off his jeans, and go pawing for one of his shirts she’s stolen from his room in order to not get flour all over her bed, but it’s doable. Her parents already know he’s up here, after all— he’s said he was going to check up on her once his shift ended. Her parents had let him go without barely any warning gaze— in fact, Mrs. Cheng had implored him to spend the night and make sure Marinette didn’t attempt to run off, in case another Akuma were to pop up.

They trust that he’s a good person and will actually stop her from leaving the house. And he doesn’t want to disappoint.

The last thing he wants to do is go back home and listen to the absolute earful he’ll be getting from his mom about using the Liberty as bait, so he’s going to camp out in Marinette’s room after sending about a billion and one heart emojis to Juleka, hoping she’ll try to keep their mom out of trouble.

Maybe it’d been a bad idea to tell his family about his identity— just his family in general. It’s safer this way, now that his family knows, so there won’t be any nasty revelations down the line and his family won’t turn into Akumas (and if he has to fight Reflekta or Captain Hardrock any more times in his life, he’s going to quit) but now there’s the added bonus of his mom knows why he disappears all the time.

So.

Heart emojis sent to Juleka it is.

“And what about you? Won’t you be going to bed?”

“I’m still hungry, so I need to dip downstairs and get some more food, if that’s okay. Or, better yet— do you want me to take Sass downstairs with me when I go?”

He raises a brow. Surely she doesn’t mean to imply… “She’s— Marinette— come on, Mullo. She’s injured.”

“I’m not sure she needs her ankle for that!”

This doesn’t top the weirdest conversation he’s ever had, but this is definitely up there. “And she’s asleep— I’m not comfortable with the idea.”

“She’ll wake up soon. You should ask her then, obviously.”

“Mullo.”

“You’re two aren’t our first holders, you know, we’ve done this so many times before.” Mullo giggles behind a paw. “So, do you want privacy? If you don’t, I’ll stay right here. Mari likes to tell us that we’re as scary as actual dolls, sometimes, with our beady little eyes.”

No one has to tell him that. He learned the hard way when he’d woken up the first time with Sass looking straight at him. Beady little eyes indeed— it’d scared him shitless and almost caused him to scream at a bleary five in the morning. Sass is a terrifying little creature when he wants to be.

“Maybe it’s a good idea to give us a bit of time.” He tries not to blush when Mullo tilts her head in acknowledgment. “I don’t think she wants anything except sleep, but, who knows.”

“We’ll give you all the time you two need,” The little mouse nods. She grabs Sass’s sleeping form by a paw, taking one last bite out of the remaining blueberry, before the two of them phase through the floorboards down below. Sometimes kwamis are weird little creatures with all of their powers, honestly— he’s gotten used to Sass appearing out of thin air in his attempts to scare him, but it’s always so concerning to see it happen without that context.

He lifts himself up from the floor, peeling open some of her drawers in search of one of his shirts. She’d taken his pleading to heart, and now has a steady collection of his clothes starting to grow and multiply in her closet— he’s running out of his own clothes, honestly, but he can’t say no when she smiles at him like she always does before squirreling away a new shirt into her bag when she wants to keep a piece of him with her.

He should probably take some of these shirts home with him, though. If the point was for her to smell like him, well, he should probably make it happen.

He folds his shirt and jeans. Marinette doesn’t have piles of clothes everywhere unlike him, so he makes the executive decision to stack his clothes on her desk chair. By the time he’s going back up the ladder over to her bed, Marinette’s shifted onto her side, facing him— she wakes up the moment he tries to shimmy his way under the covers with her.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi.” She has pieces of her hair catching in her eyelashes— he brushes it away, shifting closer to her. Her entire bed smells of faint traces of lavender, what a nice scent. “How are you feeling, Mousey?”

“A lot better,” She’s quick to smile, even as she’s groggy from sleep. Adorable. “Probably because of the amount of pain killers I’m on right now, though.”

He laughs. “Master Fu told me you don’t usually take painkillers. You must just completely relax under it, then, since your body isn’t used to it.”

“I don’t think I tore anything, did I?”

“No, I don’t think so. Your uncle said you’re fine, after all, but you should just stay out of commission for this week until you can put weight on that foot again.”

She looks so disappointed. “Where’s Lolo?”

“Downstairs. She’s probably eating through your entire pantry at the moment.”

“And Sass?”

“Went with her. Mullo took him to give us privacy. Are you okay?”

He should’ve known better than to relax his guard around her. The moment he’s completely at ease in bed, she grabs for him, pulling him so close to her that they’re perfect puzzle pieces. “How is it that I can sling myself across rooftops for years, day and night, but I can’t even walk in a straight line once I’m out of my suit?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mousey. That’s not good for you.”

“I wish I wasn’t such a klutz.”

“You’re not.” He kisses the top of her head as a punctuation of his words. “You just had a bad day, that’s all.”

“One of the worsts in a while,” She nods into his— hers?— shirt. “Luka? Could you make it better for me?”

He laughs. “And you call me the insatiable one, little mouse.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Who was the one that jumped me when I was going to go shower after my pool trip with my friends? One look at me in a towel and suddenly my boyfriend’s hands are all on me— sounds pretty insatiable, if you ask me.”

How can she blame him? She has such soft and delicate skin. Everywhere.

He loves touching and feeling her up whenever she lets him and asks him to. Not to even mention her ass— god— he could write so many songs just about it— he likes biting her everywhere he can, and he’s sure he’d done exactly that while sneaking his way into her shower box. Marinette always takes to bruising really well when it comes to him teething at her, she blossoms into hickies whenever he has his mouth on her. Not to even mention just how excited and turned on she was when he’d finally fingered her to completion.

“I don’t believe you were complaining, were you? Besides, I was just giving my girlfriend what she likes the most.”

She snorts and giggles. “And what is that?”

“Word is around here that she really likes Viperion. Has lots of fantasies about him— and, hey, I’m a pretty understanding guy. If my girlfriend wants to call out his name instead of mine, I get it.” He loves it when she laughs this hard— it’s always so much better to hear her laugh than it is to hear her stay quiet and in her thoughts. “It’s a good thing he likes helping out, too. The guy’s taken a real liking to my girlfriend, even though I’ve heard that him and Multimouse are a thing.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She smiles against his mouth. She’s feeling a lot better now, he can tell, because her hands disappear under his— seriously, hers?— shirt, teasing all of the skin available to her. Her fingers are ticklish against his chest and abs— she’s just as handsy as he is, most of the time.

“Insatiable,” He kisses her before pulling down the covers.

Her sleepshirt is soft and stretchy in his hands, and it’s easy to pull it up enough so he can kiss her stomach and hip at the waistband of her panties. He’s careful with her leg, of course— he doesn’t want to move it, just to make sure the wraps on her ankle don’t come undone by accident. He helps her out of her underwear slowly and gently, pulling the cute panties off so he can get her completely bare.

Such cute underwear. But then again, he’s always a little biased to anything green or blue— and the mint green color is adorable on her pale skin. The cut is cute, too— he doesn’t know enough about women’s underwear styles, but these are a lot cuter on her than he’d imagined. They rest just at her hip, with a pretty little scalloped edge that is just a smidge too Marinette for him to reasonably handle.

But he likes her better naked, of course.

“You’re already this wet?”

“Don’t tease, Luka.” Her hands disappear under her shirt. He doesn’t get to exactly see what she does underneath with her fingers, but it doesn’t take much brainpower to recognize the arching of her back like she always gets whenever he’s pinching at her nipples.

He follows the line she’s made with her body with an appreciating gaze, kissing up and down her thigh so slowly that she makes a frustrated noise. “Awh, don’t be like that, Mousey. Tell me why you’ve soaked through your underwear, I’m curious.”

She groans. “I thought of you the entire time I was in that stupid subway.”

Oh, did she? “No wonder you’ve been so tense today.”

She makes eye contact with him after a little flinch and a little exhale— she must’ve pinched herself just enough to make it count. “I was thinking about what you did to me in the shower. You’re such a glutton, Vai.”

He grins at her. Oh, he loves it when she calls him that. “I’m not so sure about that.”

And gives her what she needs.

He takes his time licking between her legs, even though she’s wet enough that it wouldn’t take much effort at all to slip his fingers into her. He likes this part, personally, even to the point where he shifts his hips down into the mattress to alleviate some of the pressure building at the base of his spine, starting to get desperate himself. It’s always so satisfying to go down on her— the noises she makes are always so attractive, and he loves making her come without much regard to himself. Marinette isn’t loud when she vocalizes her likes and dislikes, but not because she doesn’t want to be— she always hides her mouth behind her hands— and it always feels like a contest.

Today is no exception.

Her ribs heave under her shirt as he licks and licks, swirling his tongue at the place she loves the most. Her sighs are soft and sweet, even as he pulls her good leg up and over his shoulder, burying his face into her cunt as she makes a noise halfway between an exhale and a laugh.

“Who’s the glutton now?”

He makes a humming noise, not exactly interested in answering her question— he’s more in favor of showing. He’s glad to help, after all— pulling noise after noise from her when he licks his way into her, digging his tongue in as far as he can possibly reach. Her hips lift, using his shoulder as an anchor, and she moans— but still, again, it’s so soft and nearly quiet like she doesn’t want anyone to know what they’re up to. Always so considerate of others.

Cute.

By the time he’s got two fingers dipping into her, she’s wound up tight already. He can tell by the way she twitches, how she bites the fleshy part of her thumb— and how she bites harder when he uses his free hand to cup her ass and give her a squeeze. Soft. Soft soft soft.

God, so deliciously soft.

“Luka,” She whispers, trying her absolute hardest to stay quiet as he curls his fingers into her. Her free hand makes it to his hair, brushing it back so sweetly— she’s more cuddly this way, than an actual sexual deviant, like she’s desperate for reassurance. “Please please please?”

He loves it when she starts to beg for more and asks for more physical touch whenever he makes a home between her legs.

“Easy, Mousinette. Take a breath,” He kisses her thighs, liking the way how her thighs get sticky and messy with it. She sucks in a breath at his suggestion, looking at him with her hazy, pretty eyes. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“Yes—” She cuts herself off with a particular sigh that makes him piston his fingers more into her. She reaches down with the hand that was in his hair, gesturing for his hand underneath her to join her. “Could you— oh— please—”

“There you go. That’s it. Come whenever you want, baby girl.” He intertwines his fingers and clasps hands with hers, giving her one last swirl and flattening of his tongue, before he feels her start to come on his fingers.

“Luka—” He doesn’t let up once he recognizes the exhale, or the squirming— especially not when he feels the attractive fluttering of her walls. She squeezes and squeezes, milking his fingers desperately.

He can deal with his erection later. For now, he slowly eases his fingers out of her, and kisses her thigh again when she complains about the loss of his hand between her legs. “How are you feeling, Mousey? Better?”

“Always am when I’m with you. Sex or no sex.” And— oh— if he wasn’t so desperately hard in his boxers, he’d fall in love with her on the spot all over again. She’s always so honest with him— it’s always such a shock, even when he knows that’s just how her personality is. He watches her eyelids struggle to keep open, even as she raises her hands up in an attempt to coerce him to bed— barely clothed, with a sleep shirt that covers nothing except her chest and her shoulders at this point. “Come cuddle? ‘M tired. I want my boyfriend.”

“Probably not a good idea. I’m going to end up dry humping you— I’m so fucking horny.”

“Vai…” It’s so heartbreakingly cute that she tries to be stern even while falling asleep. “Cursing.”

“Sorry,” He laughs, gesturing to himself even though she’s not really looking at him. “I’ll be right back. I should probably go take care of my di— uhm, I mean, this— in your bathroom, and wash my hands too.”

Her face unpinches. “But what about cuddling?”

“I will after I clean you up,” He kisses the lines of her abs— pulling her shirt down enough to get comfortable. “If you fall asleep can I still towel you off? You know I don’t like it when you’re left messy.”

“Always take good care of me.” She mumbles, completely oblivious to the way he hides his steaming face behind his hands. She nods a confirmation, patting the spot next to her. “And then after cleaning come cuddle. Please.”

By the time he’s made himself orgasm while thinking of her, and washed his hands clean of her, and made sure that she’s no longer sticky between the legs— Marinette is still bravely putting up a fight with sleep. He helps her put on some new underwear, making sure that she doesn’t move her ankle as much when he does it— but he’s completely caught by surprise when she pulls him in for a hug— and, honestly— he should know better by now.

He loves it, though.

So much.

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