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#you’re a pal and a confidant
sallytwo · 8 months
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trying to teach my friend how to salute less gayly. it’s not working
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hollyseb · 1 month
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I DO
Mob! Bucky x Reader - Forced Marriage AU
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Warnings: swearing, violence, misogyny?, sexual content (MINORS DNI)
3.2k words
Summary; Bucky, a member of the mob, and the daughter of his enemy find themselves entangled in a complex relationship.
No fucking way.
Your throat tightened. The reflection in the mirror portrayed a stranger—pale complexion, vacant eyes.
“You look beautiful,” Nat reassured you, placing her steady hands on your bare shoulders, but you’d never felt so appalled. She was trying to comfort you but fell on deaf ears.
Your gaze dropped to the dress. It fits you perfectly, especially with your hair trailing down your back.
You wanted to rip it all off.
“Nat”, your voice meek, tears threatening to fall.
"I'll be by your side through it all, and if that mystery man dares to step out of line, well, a broken nose wouldn't hurt," she attempted a smile, but it faltered. Your best friend gave your shoulders a final squeeze.
Today is your wedding day.
As you found out yesterday. Yesterday. You seethed, manicured hands clenching.
“How could this happen to me, Nat?”, you asked through gritted teeth, the reality of the situation setting in.
Nat's gaze softened, her eyes filled with a sadness you couldn't bear to meet. "We both know why," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, the truth of her words like a knife to your heart. Your father's illicit dealings had finally caught up with you, dragging you into a web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I be so naive?
And so, you became a pawn in your father’s game. An object to be bought, owned and sold off at will.
It was all a show of power. You cross me, and I’ll rob your daughter of the rest of her life. You were nothing more than collateral damage.
———————————
As Bucky adjusted his tie in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was that of a man with a steely resolve, a predator poised to strike. His jaw clenched with determination, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity.
“One last drink before you’re hitched?” Steve smirked, pushing a whiskey into his best friend's hand.
Bucky sent him a sharp look. “Come on Steve, you act like I'm not the one calling the shots here”, the glint in his eyes portraying a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
In a swift motion, he downed the alcohol and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat burned. He lavished the feeling.
“Marrying a woman you’ve never even seen?” Steve's grin widened, his tone holding a hint of scepticism.
Bucky dragged a hand down his face. “All part of the game, my friend” he responded cryptically, a flicker of anticipation glimmering in his eyes.
“You never know, pal, she might be a knockout”, Steve teased, a veiled reassurance towards his friend.
”Yeah. Fat fucking chance, as long as Pierce knows I can take everything he holds dear, I’m a happy man”
With a nod of agreement, Steve raised his glass in a silent salute. "I'll drink to that," he said.
———————
Deep breaths.
You felt nauseous.
You stepped into the aisle, honing your vision on the figure standing by the altar. He had his back to you but, he was tall, broad and masculine.
Ripping your eyes from the man and planting them on your feet. Just make it down the aisle without tipping over.
Bucky turned to face you. Holy shit. His surprise was palpable. He wasn’t expecting this. You knocked the breath from his lungs. You looked beautiful. Your dress moulded perfectly to your body, skin glowing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
You felt a cool hand press against the small of your back.
“Hey”, a deep voice whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
A response far too casual for the situation at hand.
His hand moved to your waist, guiding you to face him and look at him. Fuck him. You knew this was a stupid, stubborn attempt to maintain some form of control, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
That was until he placed a finger under your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle. Oh. He is gorgeous. Sculpted face, baby blue eyes, pink lips. His touch was far too gentle for someone so evil.
“H-hi”, you stammered, your voice portraying the nervousness you felt.
Bucky’s smirk only widened at your response, as if he found amusement in your discomfort. It was infuriating. He was drinking in your wide eyes and aloof expression. You were so innocent. He almost felt bad for inviting you into his world. Almost.
He wanted to devour you.
”Well…aren’t you a sweet little thing”, his finger tilted your head back as he unashamedly raked his eyes over your features, with an almost predatory hunger.
You forced a sweet smile, concealing the disgust you felt at his patronising comment, “get your fucking hands off of me”, you retorted sharply.
Bucky’s smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, before being replaced by amusement again. “Such a filthy mouth for a pretty girl… I’ll sort that out for you”, he replied, his grip on your chin tightening.
You snarled at him, resisting the urge to clock him in his cocky face.
It was almost humorous, the way the interaction looked like a loving husband whispering sweet nothings to his wife, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.
The vows went by in a blur, all words sounding muted and unreal, until the time came to kiss the man you met half an hour ago.
Bucky couldn’t look anymore gleeful, revelling in your discomfort.
“Come on honey, I promise I’m a fantastic kisser”, he taunted, arrogance in his smirk.
You opened your mouth for a retort, but his lips landed on yours before you could protest. You hated how he was so gentle, caressing your cheek while his tongue ran across your bottom lip.
Damn it, he is a fantastic kisser.
Pulling away, you forced yourself to compose, concealing the turmoil within. He was so gentle, as if he was afraid you’d break in two at his kiss. Bucky’s touch held a power over you. You despised it, but it was overwhelming.
The reception blurred into a whirlwind of congratulatory embraces and forced smiles. Every glance from Bucky sent shivers down your spine. He was everywhere. A hand on the small of your back, an arm draped across your waist.
As the night wore on, you found yourself cornered by Bucky, his presence suffocating. His whispered promises of a future together sounded more like threats, each word tightening the knot of discomfort in your stomach.
“Is it time for that broken nose yet?” Nat whispered into your ear as you snorted at her comment, your first genuine smile all day.
“I’m ready whenever you are”, you replied, before taking her into an embrace. Her presence was a lifeline in the chaos of this ceremony.
Even after your moment of solace with Nat, Bucky's presence loomed like a dark cloud. His eyes followed your every move, logging everybody you spoke to, as he watched with an adverse gaze.
Unable to bear his suffocating presence any longer, you slipped away from the crowd, seeking refuge in the quiet solitude of the garden.
The cool night air enveloped you, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind wedding. Sitting on the wooden bench, you closed your eyes, simply focusing on breathing, before being unsurprisingly interrupted.
With a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, Bucky leaned against the stone wall, the faint glow of a cigarette illuminating his features in the darkness.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with a hint of his streetwise charm.
"Yeah? Well, I’m fine," you replied curtly, refusing to show any vulnerability in his presence.
Bucky's smirk widened, the glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sure you are," he said, his tone teasing. "But just in case you need a hand getting rid of any unwanted guests, you know what to say."
“Nobody’s watching here, you know? You don’t need to keep up this facade”, you replied, more angrily than you’d expected.
Bucky’s expression darkened at your accusation, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “Facade? Come on, darlin’ you know me better than that”
”Do I?”, your voice echoed, not ready to submit to him.
He took a step closer, his movements fluid and deliberate. "Yeah, you do," he replied, his tone edgier now, devoid of its earlier teasing edge. "You think I’m doing this all for me?"
You found yourself unable to make eye contact with the mobster, “I think this is a game… where I’m being used as a pawn”, you confessed, a sadness in your voice.
Bucky was taken aback by your raw vulnerability. He lifted your chin with his forefinger, as he did in the ceremony, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were a cocktail of remorse and sincerity.
“A game? I won’t lie, doll, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of”, he swallowed hard, grappling with the actions that had led to this moment, “but I wouldn’t drag you into this twisted world simply to be a pawn”.
You fought internally, unsure of what to believe.
Bucky stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over your features as his finger drew an arc over your jaw. "I know this ain't the ideal situation for either of us," he began, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of regret. "But we're in this together now."
Your features softened and you let yourself relax into his gentle touch. The voice in your head stressing about how dangerous this man was began to quieten. You needed this comfort.
"I want you to know," Bucky continued, his words measured yet genuine, "that I ain't gonna let anyone hurt you. Not while I'm around."
"Thank you," you murmured, the weight of the day's events finally beginning to lift from your shoulders. "I appreciate that."
Bucky offered you a small, understanding smile before gesturing toward the door leading back to the reception hall. "Come on," he said gently, "let's get back inside.”
Bucky flicked his cigarette into the darkness, the ember glowing brightly before fading into nothingness.
As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day's events began to weigh heavily on you.
“You ready to call it a night?” Bucky asked, sweeping a stray hair behind your ear.
His eyes were fixated on yours until you replied with a simple nod.
You began saying your farewells to the guests, making sure to hug Nat especially hard. You eyed Bucky as he seemed to be having an enthralling conversation with a man you recalled being introduced to as Steve. You made a mental note to ask him about his friend.
You let Bucky guide you into his mansion, down the large halls, to the bridal suite. Everything was gorgeous, sophisticated and modern.
You hadn’t let your mind trail to what your wedding night would bring, you found yourself wondering whether he’d even stay in the same wing as you.
As you and Bucky stepped into the dimly lit room, the air was hot with anticipation, charged with the unspoken tension between you.
As you turned to face him, ready to bid him goodnight and retreat to your separate quarters, Bucky's gaze met yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a rawness that took you by surprise.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" His voice was low, almost hesitant, betraying the confident facade he often wore. There was a hint of uncertainty in his words, a vulnerability that made your heartache.
It was a bold move, really, you both knew it. For a request you were so sure you would’ve declined earlier in the day, you found yourself taken aback.
“Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "Yes, you can stay."
As the door clicked shut behind Bucky, you felt anticipation in the air. His gaze lingered on you, his eyes tracing the contours of your figure with a certain hunger.
“Let me take off that wedding dress," he murmured, his words laced with desire. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to resist him, daring you to deny the attraction that pulsed between you.
Your head was spinning, the way he bounced between sincerity and domination.
For a brief moment, you hesitated, the thought of shedding the symbol of your forced marriage felt like an admission of defeat, surrendering to the forces that had brought you to this moment.
The primal hunger in Bucky’s eyes convinced you, with a hesitant nod, you faced your back to him and pulled your hair over your shoulder.
Bucky’s fingers delicately worked the fastens on your dress, his gaze transfixed on your back. You felt yourself becoming conscious, truly realising for the first time that this man was going to see you at your most vulnerable.
Sensing your apprehension, the air shifted, “you’re doing great, sweetheart”, he murmured, “Tonight, it’s just you and me”.
You eased at his words, as the fabric pooled at your feet in a cascade of silk and lace.
With a tender smile, Bucky reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek with a feather-light touch. “God, you’re beautiful”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
His words warmed you from the inside out. There was something more than desire in his gaze. It ignited a fire in you that threatened to consume everything in its path.
In the dim light of the room, you could see the raw hunger in Bucky's eyes, the longing that burned like a fire deep within his soul. But beneath the hardened exterior, there was a vulnerability—a longing for connection, for intimacy.
You doubted he was some sort of blushing virgin, especially with the stunt he pulled at the altar, but it was hard to believe he looked at other women like this.
“W-will you… are you going to…”, you faltered, not quite knowing how to ask him the question.
”Going to what, doll?”
“You know… it’s an arranged marriage. Are you planning to…see other women?”, you ventured, your voice hesitant, uncertain of how to broach the topic.
Bucky's gaze softened as he sensed the gravity of your words, his expression shifting from one of intensity to one of attentiveness. He reached out, gently grasping your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.
“I understand why you might have doubts, especially given the circumstances," he began, his voice calm and reassuring. "But I want you to know that I take this marriage seriously. This isn’t a game to me. You’re my wife".
His words carried a weight of sincerity that eased some of the tension in your chest. "I won't deny that my past may have been... adventurous," he continued with a wry smile, "but when it comes to you, I'm all in. I won't be seeing other women. You have my word."
“O-okay”, a small smile playing on your lips.
“And just so we’re clear”, he added, a playful glint in his eye, “you’re not allowed to see other men either”.
You rolled your eyes at that, your smile widening.
Bucky's eyes softened as they landed on your lips, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his own. "You've got a beautiful smile, you know," he remarked, his tone unexpectedly sincere.
As you met his gaze once more, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored your own.
“Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling the electricity between you intensify with each passing moment. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own.
With a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you reach out to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you draw him closer. The air crackles with tension as your lips meet in a searing kiss, passion and need colliding in a heady rush of sensation.
His hands pulled on your hips, desperate to get you impossibly closer. Your head was spinning.
Bucky gently walked you to the bed, falling onto the sheets when your calves knocked the frame. He ate up the gasp that escaped from your lips hungrily.
“Fuck. I want to devour you”, he murmured against your lips, before taking your bottom one between his teeth. You could only gasp in response as he rolled it.
Bucky’s hands grabbed your wrists, gently placing them above your head. A stark contrast between his gentleness and dominance. His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, nipping and tucking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
You arched against him, a soft “B-Bucky” escaping your lips.
Bucky released a guttural moan as you bucked your hips into the muscular thigh positioned between your legs.
”Easy, sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “I don’t want to overwhelm you”.
Bucky's hands trembled slightly as he fought to restrain his desire, the urge to lose himself in the moment almost overwhelming. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to control the primal urges that threatened to consume him.
His hands, which had been so commanding just moments before, now moved with a feather-light touch.
"I need to slow down," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice strained with effort.
You placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch, “we can slow down, Bucky”, you whispered reassuringly, your eyes filled with concern.
Bucky's struggle was like a battle raging within him, the conflicting desires tearing at his very core. He was used to being in control, but with you, he felt a primal urge to let go, to surrender to the passion that threatened to consume him.
But he couldn't. Not yet. Not with you.
He looked into your eyes, his own filled with gratitude and longing. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice tinged with relief. "I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far, too fast."
He’d never cared for the women he’d taken to bed in the past. There was something about you, an innocence he wanted to preserve, but simultaneously fuck out of you, make it his own.
“I’m okay, I promise”, you reassured him.
“No…it’s me. I want to lose myself in you but… I won’t be able to control myself. I want to do this right”, he admitted.
You caressed his face with your hand, letting a silence fall over you and your husband. He traced circles on your bare skin with his fingertips.
Bucky's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Feeling the weight of the day finally catching up with you, you nestled into Bucky's embrace, allowing the rhythm of his steady breathing to lull you into a peaceful slumber.
Bucky drifted into a calm sleep, the calmest he’d had in months, until the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence. Groaning, he fumbled for the source of the disturbance, his hand eventually finding the cold metal of his cell phone on the nightstand.
"Steve?" Bucky muttered, his voice thick with sleep as he answered the call, his mind struggling to shake off the fog of slumber.
"Yeah, it's me," Steve's urgent voice crackled through the line, cutting through Bucky's drowsiness like a knife. "We got a problem”.
Bucky sent a glance to your sleeping form, the sheets pooling around your waist, with your chest lifting rhythmically.
He ran a hand down his face and groaned, not wanting to leave you. “How bad is it?”, he asked, debating whether to throw the phone at the wall.
“Bad enough”, Steve replied grimly.
——————————
Taglist!
@casa-boiardi @winterslove1917 @writingpastmybedtime @thealyrs @kandis-mom @blackhawkfanatic @scott-loki-barnes @mrsevans90 @melsunshine
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andersonlore · 28 days
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whats hers is mine | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, wlw, sexual content, gf’s roommate!abby, toxic!abby, cheating (don't go cheating on your partners this is for fantasy purposes babe), abby fr is menance in this.
an. yeah! i was horny so...this literally came out of my brain so smoothly. do i hate it? yes. but am i still going to post it nd fight my brain telling me not to? yeah! happy reading my h*rny pals.
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abby being your girlfriend’s roommate who you harbor a slight attraction towards. it’s nothing big, you have this under control, or at least it’s what you tell yourself. she’s hot, gorgeous, so incredibly muscular it makes you see stars. it tears you apart thinking of all the ways her strength could make you submit to her will.
make you hers.
fuck. but you have a girlfriend.
it’s a reminder you have to repeat over in your mind anytime you catch yourself being too flirty with her, but then she gives it to you right back. now, every night you dream of her milky skin, stunning blues looking right at you, and those soft lips caressing every inch of your skin, leaving marks in their path as abby stakes her claim. yet, you wake up with your girlfriend’s arm around you with your chest feeling warm at the fantasy of someone else. you have to avoid abby before you do something completely idiotic.
yet, she’s the first one to make the first move.
abby knows you’ve been avoiding her like the plague, so when she’s presented with a perfect opportunity, the conflict at hand is met with absolutely no resistance.
“abby, you’ve blocked my car in. can you move yours?” you ask through the shut door. she gives you a soft yes and when you’re two seconds from walking downstairs to meet her in the driveway.
she opens the fucking bathroom door.
water drips down sunkissed freckled skin, glistening from the shower she obviously took. her blonde hair darker than usual, falling down her back. the smirk there is vile, begging you to look further than her blue eyes.
with the way abby is looking at you, there’s no fucking way she doesn’t want it. clearly, she’s more patient than most, waiting for you to drop the eye contact.
“well?” abby lifts her left eyebrows, cocking her head to the side as she waits for you to react, crumble, cry. you’re not sure what exactly she’s looking for. the confidence radiating from her is irritating just as it is enticing.
when you shake your head silently, repeatedly too, the tall blonde takes a one step forward, the pad of her thumb places pressure on your chin, guiding your gaze where she wants. happily, you comply.
jesus fucking christ, you’d fully believe she was made just for you if someone told you.
the auburn towel is secured around hips loosely, her toned abdomen on full display, her small breasts sit beautifully, nipples hardened from the cool air. it’s not fair how fucking perfect she looks. there’s not a damn thing you want more than to wrap your lips around her pink nipples and suck.
“now, are you going to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck me, baby?” abby taunts, her voice light and airy but it shoots right to your core.
“i-i, abby, this is wrong we shouldn’t be doing this. you need to get dressed.” you try to great some distance but abby pulls you towards her as you enter the bathroom with her, left arm shutting the door as she locks it.
“mhm, you’ve been dating for what? two months? don’t be stupid baby, think with that pretty pussy of yours. know she wants me and you do too, babygirl.” abby grabs your hand placing it on her towel, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
“you can take it off if you want. do you wanna see my pussy baby?”
shit.
your fingertip plays with the fibers, before you can process what you’re doing, it’s unraveling off her strong hips exposing more of her built physique for your greedy eyes. quads are flexing as you take her in, the muscle rippling as you feast on her.
you have never been so truly and royally fucked.
meticulously, she removes each piece of clothing you’re wearing as her lips attack your own. as if she’s been planning this moment since she laid eyes on you. she bends you over the sink, your pretty ass in the air for her and her fingers smooth over your delectable cunt, enjoying the inconsistent twitching your taut body provides.
“now, be a good girl for me and let me fuck my baby, yeah? ‘m gonna fuck you better than she ever would.”
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reblogs are appreciated! ♡
DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.
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lovebugism · 1 year
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Play wrestling with bff Steve and getting giggly when he just straight up manhandles you 😭😭😭
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✶ ┄ SORE LOSER !
summary: steve harrington doesn't like to let you win until he realizes how good it feels to lose. pairing: best friend!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 1.6k warnings: a lil bit suggestive towards the end, but nothing crazy a/n: i got super carried away with this lol i kinda just took this request and ran with it and well... here we are :) enjoy!
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Steve never lets you win. 
He thinks it’s letting you off too easy.
The boy’s competitive to a fault. He can’t stomach a loss, even if it’s in something as meaningless as a carnival game you only wanted to play for the giant dinosaur plushie that’s half the size of you. 
He always ends up giving it to you when he inevitably wins, wearing a big smug smile on his pretty, pink lips. You take it from him with a pout. The childlike scowl is quelled only by the funnel cake he buys you after.
It doesn’t matter what it is — a game of monopoly, trivia questions on the ends of popsicle sticks, taking in the groceries — Steve finds a way to make all of it competitive. He wants to have the most fake money and little fake properties, he wants to shout the answer before anyone else can, he wants to carry more heavy plastic bags than everyone else. Just to say that he did it.
If you put this much effort into school, you’d be in college right now, Harrington, you’d tease.
Not my fault you’re a sore loser, he’d retort. I’ll let you win the next one, sunshine. Promise.
He never does.
You and Steve play-wrestle like a couple of kids. It usually comes out of nowhere. You’ll make fun of him, he’ll shove at you, and you’ll shove back harder. Then it just turns into a game of who’s stronger than who — and it’s always him. Obviously. 
You try your hardest to prove your strength, pushing at him with nimble fists and wriggling something fierce in his hold, but you come out red-faced with a participation ribbon laced within his taunts. And even though he’s got several inches on you and quite a bit more muscle, he never lets you win. Ever.
He manhandles you, perhaps a little too rough at times, but it wasn’t like he had to be kind to you. You weren’t dating or anything, you were best friends — this is what a couple of pals do, right?
They play fight on the carpet of the other’s movie room after being told their closest confidant would murder them in a game of fuck, marry, kill between Anthony Michael Hall and Robert Downey Jr. with zero hesitation.
Friends totally force the other onto the ground by grabbing at the bottoms of their thighs before kneeling over them, wrenching their wrists in their grip and pressing their hands to the ground on either their head.
It’s the definition of being best buds. Truly.
For the first time, you manage to get the better of him. You’re pressed beneath his weight, breathing heavy and rapidly tiring, and you wave the white flag of surrender.
Just when Steve's letting you up and swiping a hand through his mussed hair, you force him onto his back and straddle his waist — like he always did to you — and giggle with mirth at the idea of finally beating him.
He doesn’t find a similar enthusiasm in it, though. His tune changes almost immediately.
You beam down at him, the words of a taunt on the tip of your tongue, and you notice how his cheeks flare pink. His honey-colored eyes widen and his mouth falls softly agape. He glows red in embarrassment and you think he’s just upset that he lost, but he sounds like he’s panicking. The words rush out of his mouth — “Alright, shit, fine— you win, sunshine. Get off, alright? Off, off, off.” 
His hand swats at the side of your knee to hurry you off him.
“Alright, jeez!” you concede with the roll of your eyes, halfway annoyed that he just can’t let you win anything. “You don’t have to be such a sore loser about it, Harrington—”
You understand his haste in that moment, when you feel him brush your inner thigh. Like, all of him — as in, the boner trapped in the sweatpants he’s wearing, all rock hard and raging in its cotton confines.
Suddenly, you’re just as bashful and panicked as he is. 
Your eyes lock at the rock hard realization but neither of you can think of anything to say.
Do you apologize? Do you act like you didn’t feel anything? Do you trust your voice to make a stupid joke so you can move on and forget any of this ever happened? You’re not quite sure.
And in the five-second silence, Steve just wants to die. Internally, he’s praying for a strike of lightning to take him out on the spot because he’s never been more embarrassed in his life.
He’s certain that he’s grossed you out, or worse, made you irreversibly uncomfortable.
In the mess of thoughts running through his head, he tries to rush out some apology that might soothe the awkward air. Your laughter does all the work for him before he can.
It bubbles like sunshine from your mouth, filling the silence and allowing Steve to breathe again. He finds himself chuckling under his breath with you, though he’s still red-faced about it.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep laughing, sunshine,” he chides with the roll of his eyes, though a smile hints at the edges of his mouth. He rises on his elbows to look at you. “What was I supposed to do? Your tits were in my face and your ass was on my dick— sorry for being human!”
“Sorry, alright? I’m sorry,” you manage through hearty giggles. You settle finally at his side and look over at him, still grinning. “Want me to leave so you can… take care of it or whatever?”
He knows you’re joking but he shakes his head anyway. “Nah, it’ll go away. Let’s just… finish this stupid movie.”
“Stupid movie? You picked it!”
“Yeah, so I could see Kelly Lebrock in a bikini!” he argues back, more thankful for the familiar bickering than he ever thought he’d be. “But you made me miss it!”
“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“Watch it, sunshine,” he grumbles, half-heatedly. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I think you’re the one who needs to worry about finishing, Harrington,” you joke and giggle when he shoves you.
You would’ve helped him, if he wanted you to. You know it’s uncomfortable and that it’s partially your fault. You also know that all of those are just excuses to cover up the fact that you’ve always wondered what his cock looks like.
He’d need only ask you, but you know that he won’t.
Even if he did like you in that way, it’d just make things all complicated. And that was totally the opposite of the effortless relationship you’ve developed with him. The kind of effortless where he can be rock hard next to you, and you’ve both decided to just move on from it.
Steve, meanwhile, spends the rest of the movie not watching a single damn minute of it. He’s too busy trying to calm himself down like a teenage boy and figuring out he can get you on top of him again without being too obvious about the whole thing.
He decides he might just start swallowing his pride and let you win sometimes.
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What You Like
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Marc Spector x F!Reader x Steven Grant • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •
Summary: Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: There was a post about Marc talking Steven through his first time with reader, which I adored and couldn't stop thinking about. And then my brain went... but what if... the other way around? (I'm so sure I reblogged the post, or maybe it's in my queue, but I cannot for the life of me find it. Please if you know the one I'm talking about, let me know! I really would like to link it here. Also I'm so sorry I forgot who wrote it as well.)
Warnings: oral, fingering, so much swearing, some self loathing from Marc, I have used 'mate' far too much, as well as 'yeah?', kind of Marc being sort of into Steven talking to him, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 2213
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“She doesn’t like it so much like that, if you tilt your head to the side a little and-”
Marc snaps his eyes open and glares at Steven in the far-off mirror. “Fuck off.” He thinks hard, and Steven doesn’t have to hear him to read his expression.
“I’m just trying to help, mate.” He holds up his hands like all he had done is hold the door open for him or something. 
Marc glares harder, about to flip him off when you pull back from the kiss. 
“You okay?” 
Marc swallows, “Sorry, I, erm…” He hadn’t realised you’d noticed his distraction.
You smile at him and stroke his cheek. "You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you shift a little on the bed, giving him a fraction more space.
“No, no, that wasn’t…” he gives you a small smile in return and leans forward again to kiss you. “Steven, I need you to be quiet now, okay?” 
“I was just-”
“Steven.”
He tuts. “Okay, okay, I promise.” 
Marc inches a little closer, recovering the space you’d previously offered up. His thigh nudges against yours and you let out a little moan into his mouth as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip. 
He didn’t know why he felt so nervous, anxiety like eels swimming in his belly, you were Steven’s girlfriend (and technically, his now? Or was that too forward?) you’d been in this bed, with this body before. And strictly speaking, Marc had looked in on you and Steven a few times in more… intimate moments. Accidentally, of course. 
This should be fine. Practically second nature. 
He tries to clear his head, to be more in the moment, and runs his hands down your back as he presses closer, leaning into you slightly to urge you to lay back onto the mattress. 
You move with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him against you. Parting your legs slightly so that he can situate himself between them. 
He nips lightly at your lip, licking softly but confidently into your mouth as he just grinds his hardening cock against your core. Oh, and your barely muffled moan is delicious, the way you dig your fingers into his shoulders makes his head spin, if-
“Oh, that’s a good move. She definitely likes that.” 
“Steven! For fuck’s sake! I trusted you to be quiet!” 
“Sorry!”
Marc tries not to let the interruption show, but he jumps a little when Steven speaks and it’s impossible for you to have missed it. A small thorn of anxiety settles in his chest, piercing between his ribs. 
“Kiss her neck, she really likes that.” 
“Steven-”
“I’m just giving helpful tips!” He can feel more than see Steven shrug his shoulders. “You’re the one without any game.”
“Without any game? I’ve got more game than you.” 
Steven sorts. “Unlikely. When’s the last time you got laid? God only knows. I, however, had sex this morning.” 
“Steven.” 
“Just saying.” 
“Yeah, well, I'm gonna be having sex in a minute, so shut up.”
There was a moment of blissful silence and Marc let out a breath of relief. 
You hooked your legs over his hips, urging him closer and bucking up so that you could grind against him. The heavy drag of his jeans sending sparks of pleasure along your spine. 
He slips his left hand down, sneaking the tips of his warm fingers under your top and stroking at the soft skin of your side. 
“She’s ticklish there.” 
“Steven-”
You can’t help but giggle a little, squirming away from his touch and breaking the kiss. “Sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m sorry, it’s just-”
“You’re ticklish.” Marc finishes and you nod smiling. 
“Sorry.” You mouth again. 
Marc shakes his head and smiles as he leans back down. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He moves his hand away from your side. 
He’s barely pressed his lips against you for a second before Steven speaks again. “Told you.”
Marc inwardly grunts, rolling his eyes as he kisses along your jaw to your neck. He nips lightly at your skin, before sucking gently.
“Bit lower mate, that’s the spot.”
Marc scowled but followed the instruction, hatching onto the spot Steven suggested and you moan loudly, arching your back off the mattress. 
“See, she really likes that. Now if you just move your hand down and-”
Marc clenches his jaw instinctively, letting his frustration bubble over. Unfortunately, your neck is still between his teeth when they snap shut. 
You let out a little gasp of pain and Marc nearly blacks out from panic, instinctively moving to jerk backwards and away from you. But your arms tighten on his shoulders, your thighs clenching around his hips. 
You whimper and buck against him instantly. “Marc, fuck, please do that again.” 
He relaxes, tension easing out of his limbs as he growls faintly and does as you ask. 
“It’s okay mate, really. She’s not made of glass.” 
“Steven. I’m fucking gonna-”
“Hey,” Steven protested, “look, I don’t mind when you’re watching us go at it all the time, yeah?” 
Marc flushed. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. And don’t think you’re being sneaky about it either. I can tell.” 
“I don’t mean to, it’s just…”
“Just what mate?” 
“It just… happens.” 
“Yeah, right.” 
Marc stays quiet, knowing that whatever he says won’t make him look good. He tries to ignore Steven, to just focus on you. To grind against you just right. But he could feel Steven hovering just in the background. 
You run your hands through Marc’s hair, pulling highly as you writhe under him and he can’t help but risk a sneaky look up at you, at how your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes closed in pleasure and…
Was it real? Or was it just for show? Did you always look like that when Steven…? He thinks back trying to recall the memories of watching in as much detail as possible. 
“Marc.” Steven’s voice is soft. 
But he doesn’t answer.
“Stop getting in your head about it, yeah? She’s here with you. She likes you. She wouldn’t pretend to be into something she doesn’t, ‘kay?” 
Marc swallows, trying to take Steven’s words on board and calm his quickly spiralling thoughts. 
But it doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right, it’s all stiff and unsettled. Like his joints are just a fraction out of place. 
You can tell. He’s so sure that you can tell. Even if you are moaning and writhing against him, you must know. Must sense it. How out of alignment he is. How much of a failure. 
“Steven?"
There’s a fraction of a pause before he answers. “Hmm?” 
“What does she like?”
He can feel Steven’s frown. 
“What does she like? What should I do? You were full of tips a second ago, don’t lea-”
“Move your hand down,” his voice is a little softer than before. Compassionate. And Marc knows his emotions have bled through. “Slower.” 
Marc slowly runs his hand down your body, careful not to tickle your side, stopping just short of the top button of your trousers. 
“Kiss lower on her neck, just above her collarbone... that’s it.”
Marc feels a little warm at the praise, giddy even. 
“And just start to undo her trousers, yeah?”
He flicks the top button open and you whine, bucking up against him. You urge his face up with your hands so you can kiss his lips and slide your tongue into his mouth. A deep shiver runs along Marc’s spine, forcing his hips to buck mindlessly. 
You pull back for a second, just to lift your top up and over your head before dropping it to the side and his breath catches in his throat. 
“Trousers.” 
Marc all but jumps despite the soft tone of Steven’s voice and he quickly snaps his eyes away from your skin to focus on undoing your pants.
You grin at his eagerness and help him by wiggling out of your trousers and kicking them off your feet. You kiss Marc’s neck, your hands moving desperately to his jeans. 
“Touch her.”
Marc lets out a little moan as you suck on his pulse point. “Wha-”
Marc’s left hand moves under Steven’s control, slipping his fingers under the elastic of your panties and pressing two thick fingers inside of your heat. 
You gasp in surprise, your thighs twitching at the sudden intrusion, shifting wider to allow him easier access. 
Steven strokes two fingers languidly against your walls for a second, enjoying the little tremors and flutters before placing his thumb on your clit. “Can you feel that?” 
Marc nods inwardly, “fuck.”
“See how wet she is?” 
“So fucking wet.” 
Steven smiles, continuing the long, slow strokes for a second before retreating back and leaving their hand once more completely under Marc’s control. He falters for half a second before he quickly resumes the tortuous pace set up by Steven. 
You gasp and whine, flinging your head back against the pillow as you arch up your hips towards him, trying to buck and urge him to move faster. 
“Go nice and slow… yeah… like that…” Steven whispers in his ear and there’s something strangely comforting about it, something exciting at having him there, right with him. 
Marc bites his bottom lips between his teeth, watching your face with rapt attention. 
“Nice slow circles and nice slow strokes.” 
“Slow circles.” He mutters under his breath, almost inaudible. He glides his fingers back and forth, barely leaving you before pushing back in, revelling in the sound of your wetness. 
You buck and whine, grabbing hold of his forearm like you were hanging onto a lifesaver. “Marc- ah, please!” Your words are cut off by desperate half choked sobs. 
He continues to circle your clit gently, barely allowing any pressure so that you can only just feel the slightly calloused glide of his thumb. Your thighs started to shake, your movements becoming sloppy. 
“Take her panties off completely, yeah? She’s gonna cum in a second, you’re gonna want to see.” 
Marc obeyed without thinking, using his free hand to pull them down and groaning softly when you lifted your hips as best you could to help him. 
Fuck you looked so pretty laid out all before him- before them. 
You moaned particularly needily, already looking fucked out of your head and Marc hissed, unable to stop himself as he hurriedly leant down and flicked his tongue along your clit. 
Your little high-pitched cry made him go light-headed. 
“Fuck, god yeah, give it to her.” Steven’s arousal bled into his own, making him dizzyingly high. “God, make her cum, make her cum in our mouth Marc, please.” 
“Marc, oh god, please!” You whine at almost the same moment, your and Steven’s voice blending together in a harmony that made Marc’s dick throb. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth for a moment before running board, flat licks over it, continuing his fingers slow pump as he brought you maddeningly close to the edge. 
Steven moaned loudly, “fuck Marc, please, please, need to taste her cum. Then we can fuck her together, yeah? She feels so good, she makes the best little noises,” he groaned again, “she tastes so sweet doesn’t she?” 
“So sweet,” Marc mumbled against your pussy as he kept moving, kept sucking and licking and practically humping the mattress with his eyes pinched tight in pleasure. 
“Marc,” you whimper and pull on his hair with your free hand, urging him on, “you’re so good at this, so good, ‘m gonna cum-”
“Fuck, Marc, yes.” 
He couldn’t help himself, simply couldn’t. Found himself opening his mouth and letting the words spill out before he had even registered them. “Steven’s here too.” 
“Oh shit!” You gasp, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm crashes into you, seizing your limbs in pleasure and whiting out your vision, before leaving you boneless and breathless. 
Marc stops moving slowly, trying to prolong your bliss for as long as possible. He bites his lip nervously as he sits up, your release and his spit covering the lower half of his face. Fuck, why had he said that, why had he gone and fucked this all up-
You smile up at him, still trailing your fingers through his thick curls. “Steven’s here too?” 
He nods as heat rises to his face. He stares down at your knee. 
“Look at her, mate.” 
He doesn’t move until you gently tilt his chin up with your hand. 
Your soft smile makes his heart ache. 
“I’m sorry…” he whispers. “Is that… okay? That he’s here?” 
You nod, your grin widening as you sit up and kiss him. It’s messy and deep, and Marc just melts into it. He whines against your lips as you wrap your arms around him, stroking your tongue with his own as you lick into his mouth. 
“Now, how about,” you say between kisses, your fingers tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt. “I get you out of these clothes and suck both of your dick.” You pause and pull a silly face at the odd-sounding, but technically correct singular use. 
Marc giggles and nuzzles into your neck. 
“Say yes mate!” 
“Yes please.” He mumbles as he sucks a love bite into your skin. 
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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441 notes · View notes
3xen · 3 months
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you should marry me; i. r he wants you bad, he’s just loves sugar coating things.
n. ahhhh! long awaited oneshot, i hope u like it ale <3 @kaisersheart
c. established relationship, crack, fluff, wrote this w one eye open
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as you pranced around your bedroom—rin watched you from the bed. he laid down on his side, his head up and watchful. you entered the bathroom, leaning towards the counter—still unaware of the pair of eyes watching you. “rin, what time is it?” you kept yourself distracted by looking at yourself through the reflection of the mirror. 
“rin.” you didn’t turn to him. 
“you should marry me.” he declared loudly in a sense of confidence. 
his eyes shifted dreamily to every inch of your form. he had been caught in your beauty and remained frozen. 
god, rin really was a natural flirt without even trying. whenever his words were safe behind walls, he just couldn’t contain his composure. both his actions and words showed just that. 
you stared back at him with an flustered smile—a frantic giggle leaving your lips. 
“rin, you’re really flirty, aren’t you?” 
“what? im just suggesting it. that’s not flirting.” rin grumbled and turned away from you now that he’d been caught flustered himself. 
“no no, that was like,” you approached the side of the bed, poking his back with one of your fingers. “actual real flirting.” 
“no it was not.” he quickly yanked the blanket over his head before letting you catch a glimpse of his face. 
“and like, that’s a big proposal there buddy.” 
“what? just go to sleep.” you began laughing hysterically—hurriedly sliding into bed besides him. “you sound like a crazy woman.” 
you tapped on his shoulder once. “i won’t fall for you tricks.” you whispered. 
with a scowl, rin turned back to you. “what? you aren’t even going to consider?” you shook your head, meeting his eyes. 
“if you let me tell all your pals what a flirt you are, ill greatly consider.” 
“shut up,” his nose dug into your chest, an action of pure gentleness. “just consider. no telling about what a flirt i am.” his long arms squeezed your waist using it as leverage to pull you closer. 
your response resulted in laughter. “okay okay! fine.” 
rin hummed in victory. finally, you would consider. he’s been waiting forever. 
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© 3xen
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simpforrooster · 6 months
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someone like me.
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Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: rooster gets jealous at the attention the bartender keeps giving you.
t/w: mentions of alcohol
“Can I get you another?” the bartender asks you.
You’re seated next to your best friend, Bradley Bradshaw. Callsign, Rooster. Jake talked the squad into heading to the town over for line dancing.
The bartender in question was definitely easy on the eyes, and had been meeting your gaze all evening. You answered his smirks with a few of yours, before returning your attention back to Bradley.
You raise a brow at Bradley, silently asking him if you aught to continue drinking. He answers with a quick shrug of his shoulder.
“Why not,” you tell the man.
A few moments later, he places an appletini in front of you. “On the house,” he smiles.
Your cheeks redden. As he walks away, Bradley chuckles.
“Got somethin’ to say, Bradshaw?” You turn in your seat towards your friend.
“Oh come on, y/n. You and I both know what he’s doing.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think Rooster was a little jealous.
But you do know better. You and Roos are nothing but friends. Something you’re still coming to terms with.
Of course you felt an immediate attraction to him the first time you met. He peered over his Ray Bans at you and gave you the most delicious smirk you’d ever seen. It was like something out of a romance novel.
But he’s never made a move.
“Are you jealous, Rooster?” you ask. Rooster quickly diverts his eyes.
“Of course not,” he says to the counter. The hand holding his beer tightens around the neck causing the veins in his biceps to appear.
Before your mind can go to places fit for a smutty romance, Rooster speaks. “I just don’t think he’s your type is all.”
“I’m sorry?”
Rooster shrugs a broad shoulder. Mischief sparkles in his eyes underneath the neon. He brings his beer up to his mouth, taking a long swig. Some residual beer hangs back on those lips, and it takes everything in you to not reach out and trace your thumb along the line.
“Well, you can’t leave me hanging. What’s my type? My love life certainly isn’t booming.”
Rooster’s hand falls onto the stool, in between your legs. Never taking his eyes from yours, he pulls your stool until it hits yours. The heat from his hand radiates. His legs have you trapped in, his broad thighs on the outside of yours. He still hasn’t moved his hand from your stool.
Your breath hitches at how he’s pinned you in. He hears it and answers with a smirk. A smirk identical to the one he gave you that first day.
A thoughtful look falls on his handsome face. He casually shrugs, feigning casualness.
“I just thought you’d always fall for someone like me,” he says. As the words leave his mouth, that false confidence is replaced with the look of boy afraid of being rejected.
You slide forward on your stool, almost into Rooster’s lap. One hand finds purchase in his sandy hair, and the other grips the wrist of the hand that was on the stool. Not giving it a second thought, you bring your mouth to his.
Pulling back slightly, you whisper, “Looks like you thought right.”
Rooster smiles against your lips and pulls you in for another kiss. Pulling back, you begin to place kisses along his neck. Rooster flags the bartender down.
“I need to close our tabs please,” he tells him. You don’t stop your kisses to see the look on his face, but you know Rooster is relishing in it. Rooster tosses a hundred onto the bar. “Keep the change, pal.”
Rooster gives the bartender a wink, and grabs your hand, pulling you out the bar and toward his Bronco.
a/n: i’m baaaackkkkkk. thanks for hanging with me through all my hiatuses! i hope yall like this quick little fic!
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the-anxious-youth · 6 months
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Bubbles II
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Pairing: Buggy x gn!Reader
Summary: Now that Buggy has agreed to help you find Nami, the two of you get closer, and shenanigans ensue.
Warnings: none, general flirting but nothing too spicy, the reader is written as gender neutral but Buggy does call them pretty, some talks of insecurity but it's more comfort than hurt
Word Count: 4.7K
Author's Note: Here's the highly anticipated part two of my Buggy fic! He's quickly become one of my comfort characters so writing about him has been fun. Also, I made some major changes to the plot in regards to rescuing Nami because I felt I couldn't do it justice since I haven't seen episode 7 yet and didn't want to mess up such an emotional scene. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy! (Up next is a Shanks fic, so keep on the lookout for that) banners by cafekitsune
Part 1
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Luffy’s eyes brightened when he saw you, a cheerful aura surrounding your captain. His smile triggers your own, and you walk up to him, holding Buggy in your hands. Luffy looks down at the clown’s head, and his smile grows even wider.
“Did you give him a makeover? It looks great, Y/N!” says the enthusiastic man, always in a good mood. You chuckle and nod in response, thanking him softly. Out of everyone in the crew, Luffy had always been the most supportive and you’re glad his reaction was the polar opposite of Zoro’s. 
“Good news, I got him to tell me how to get to Arlong Park so we can rescue Nami!” Your tone is cheerful, and your Captain’s face reflects how you feel.
“Really? That’s awesome! How’d you do it?” Luffy leans against the side of the boat, visibly impressed by the way you’d been able to tame the beast, considering that a few hours ago, they all thought they’d have to torture it out of him. Looking down at Buggy, you smile softly, debating on whether or not you should tell the whole story. Before you can answer, Buggy lets out a laugh and responds for you.
“Guess I just have a soft spot for them,” he says, sending a wink in your direction. By now his flirtatious confidence is fully restored. Luffy watches the two of you making eyes at each other for a few seconds, before breaking the silence.
“Well, I’m glad you worked it out.” Luffy notices how your eyes sparkle when looking at Buggy, but he decides not to comment on it, instead moving to pull out a map. Spreading it across a table, he gestures for you to come closer.
“So this is where we are right now, approximately.” Your captain points to a spot on the map, and you recognize it as part of the East Blue. You gently place the clown’s head on the table, allowing him to look at the map. “And this is where we think Nami is,” utters Luffy, pointing his finger to an area adjacent to where he said you all are.
“You’re heading in the wrong direction, pal.” Buggy chuckles as he says this, not surprised that your crew wasn’t good with directions. After all, Nami was the navigator, the impact of her absence being very visible. Not waiting to hear what Luffy has to say, the clown continues.
“Arlong Park is on the other side of the East Blue, next to Cocoyasi Village, which is along the coastline.” Since he doesn’t have hands, he tilts his head to gesture towards the location of your desired destination. Your captain nods with a smile.
“I think I know where that is. See, was that so hard?” Luffy says teasingly, looking down at Buggy with a cheeky smile. The clown just glares in return, his smile not reappearing until you gently pick him up in your hands.
“Need me to go tell the others or do you want to do it?” You ask softly. Luffy smiles at you before responding.
“I’ve got it. I am the Captain after all.” He says cockily, though you know he means no harm. You chuckle and nod, finding his happy mood contagious.
“Yes, you are.” He pats you on the shoulder before heading off to inform the rest of the crew of the new developments. You look down at Buggy, his amorous grin causing the heat to rise to your face.
“Now what, sweetness?” He says, his tone smooth. Cocking your head at him, you hum while thinking.
“How about some food? I’m getting pretty hungry and I bet you are too.” You smile at him softly, to which he admires your face.
“You have no idea,” the clown mutters, excited at the prospect of food. Carrying him in your arms, you head to the kitchen, which incidentally is where the rest of the crew seems to be chatting. 
As you walk into the room, everyone turns to look at you. Luffy smiles at you gently, Zoro’s face is humorless, and it seems like he’s still irritated about earlier, Sanji’s eyebrows furrow, confused to see you so happy with the clown, and Usopp wears a look of amusement as if he’s just along for the ride. For a moment, everything is quiet, before you decide to walk over to the pantry to find something to eat. Snapping out of his daze, Sanji walks over to you, the others resuming their discussion.
“What can I get for you, dear?” says the cook, gazing at you with a suave smile. 
“Just a snack please, enough for two.” Your tone is soft, and you don't miss the look of surprise on Sanji’s face when he understands what you are referring to. You don’t notice it, but Buggy’s face is smug, enjoying watching the other man squirm. Sanji is silent for a moment, his face turning concerned.
“You do know he’s a bad guy, right? Remember what he did to that town?” asks the chef, leaning closer to you, to which Buggy scoffs.
“Lighten up, blondie, you weren’t even there.” Spits out the clown. His tone reads annoyance, not wanting the chef to impact your view of him. Sanji glares down at the head, crossing his arms.
“Yes, I remember. I just figure you get further with people using kindness.” Sanji’s eyes soften at your words, internally reminding himself that this is just who you are. He sighs, before meeting your gaze.
“Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting taken advantage of,” he says softly, and you smile at his words in an attempt to comfort him. 
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Chuckling softly at the blonde man’s concern, he nods his head, doing his best to smile back at you. He opens one of the cupboards and pulls out some snacks, handing them to you carefully. 
“Let me know if you need help, alright?” Sanji’s eyes still hold some worry, but his easy-going smile is back on his face. You nod in response, thanking him for the food before heading to the top deck, wanting to get some fresh air.
Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the crew watched your interaction with Sanji, teasing him as soon as you were out of earshot.
“Is someone a little jealous?” teases Usopp, to which Sanji shakes his head, brushing him off.
Back on the deck, you take a seat on a blanket, putting Buggy’s head down next to you. He looks up at you with a sense of wonder, admiring your features.
“So what sounds good, apples? Crackers?” You gesture to the pile of snacks in front of you, a soft smile on your face.
“Just give me whatever you don’t want,” says the clown, his smile widening at the surprised look on your face.
“I thought you were this tough guy who only cares about himself?” Your voice is gentle, with a hint of curiosity. He chuckles at your words, shaking his head softly.
“Don’t believe everything you hear, doll.” His eyes twinkle as he speaks. “Who knows, maybe I just like you.” Feeling the heat rise to your face, you look down bashfully, not sure how to respond.
“Apples it is then.” Reaching over to grab one of the apples, you pull out the knife Sanji gave you and start cutting it into smaller pieces, slipping one into your mouth every so often. The clown just watches you, taking the opportunity to admire you while he can. Secretly, he plans to charm you so that you’ll leave with him once this is all over. 
After cutting the apple into enough pieces, you move to give one to Buggy, when an idea comes into your mind.
“Here comes the choo choo train!” You say teasingly, waving the apple slice around like you would for a toddler. His eyes narrow at you, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if they were with him.
“Very funny,” he says unamusedly, though there is still a hint of a smile on his face. Chuckling at his response, you finally give him the apple slice, and he watches you while he chews.
“I didn’t pick these apples out so if they’re bad it’s not my fault.” You smirk at him cheekily, and he just shakes his head before swallowing.
“It’s fine,” he says, still smiling at you. “Trust me, I’ve eaten much worse.” Taking an apple slice for yourself, you pop it into your mouth, taking a look at the view around you.
“The sea sure is pretty,” you comment, admiring the fluffy clouds above you.
“Not as pretty as you.” Buggy’s statement makes you turn your head toward him. Searching his eyes for insincerity, your eyebrows furrow as you find none. By now you’re sure you’re blushing, and you look down at the apple to hide the apparent flush on your face. 
“You’re quite the flirt, aren’t you?” Anxiety fills your chest, wondering whether his words were truthful or just a way to lower your guard. You fiddle with your fingers, sparing glances in his direction. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, the clown speaks up, his tone softer than before. 
“I’m being serious, you’re gorgeous, babe.” His eyes scan your face, hoping you’ll believe him, the corner of his mouth upturned into a soft smile. You just shake your head softly, his cheeky smile prompting your own. Gaining some confidence, you respond in a pert tone.
“Yeah, well you’re quite the looker yourself. I bet the girls go crazy for you.” Buggy’s cocky demeanor falters for a second, used to giving compliments rather than receiving them. He laughs nervously, thankful for the makeup on his face for hiding the blush on his cheeks. 
“Depends on how you define crazy,” he says, tilting his head slightly. Even though you can’t visibly see the flush on his cheeks, his demeanor tells you enough. Chuckling to yourself, you reach for an apple slice, observing the clown as you chew.
“I guess we’re both not used to compliments.” Timbre hushed, you watch as he nods, silently agreeing with your statement. The two of you exchange friendly conversation, slowly opening up to one another. Before you know it, the sun is setting on the horizon as the day comes to a close, and all the snacks you got from Sanji are gone.
“If your captain correctly follows my directions, we should arrive at Arlong Park within a day.” Buggy’s tone is kind, something unusual for him, though there’s still a hint of playfulness. Nodding in response, you move to pick him up, being careful as always. He always gets a weird look on his face when you treat him with such fragility, and you assume it’s because being treated in such a way is unfamiliar territory for him. 
Walking down the stairs, you head towards your room, smiling at your crew members as you pass them. Stopping by the kitchen to get some fresh water, you run into Sanji, who seems to be writing something down in a notebook. Probably his meal plan for tomorrow, you think to yourself. The chef turns to you as you enter, surprised to see you still with the clown. 
“Aren’t you getting sick of watching him? Why don’t you let one of us take a turn, you’ve been on clown watch all day.” He says with a concerned smile. 
“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” Sanji looks at you as you speak, his eyes scanning over your face as if it were a puzzle to be deciphered. His eyebrows furrow, revealing his confusion. To him, watching a pretty person choose to hang out with a homicidal maniac was like watching a scientist write poetry, it made absolutely no sense. He narrows his eyes for a moment, debating on what to say.
“Well, if you’re happy I guess.” His tone indicates that he wants to say more, but is restraining so as to not upset you.
“I’ll just get some water and I’ll be out of your way,” you say mellowly, the awkward tension becoming uncomfortable. At your comment, Sanji sends a flirty smirk in your direction.
“You’re never in my way, darling.” Feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, you nod quickly and head to grab the water. You couldn’t see it, but if looks could kill, the glare Buggy was giving the chef would have knocked him dead. After finding the water, you make a beeline for your room, not wanting to deal with more problematic interactions. As Sanji watches you leave, he wonders to himself how the clown has caught your interest, clearly not understanding the appeal.
Shutting the door to your cabin, you let out a sigh, gingerly placing Buggy on your bed, and moving to sit next to him. He notices the change in your mood, already missing the smile on your face. 
“Everything okay, dollface?” His tone is the gentlest it’s been in years. The last time he could recall speaking in such a manner was with Shanks, and that was quite a long time ago. Nodding slowly, you start to fidget with your fingers, signaling your uneasiness.
“There’s just something about the way he looked at me like I was doing something wrong. It just reminds me how I don’t fit in with the rest of the crew.” You bring your hand up to start picking at your lips, the anxiety in your gut triggering the habit that appears whenever you get nervous. The action does not go unnoticed by the clown, and he tries to think of a way to calm you down.
“Hey, don’t do that. You’ll get scars,” Buggy says gently, wishing he had his body with him so he could grab your hand and pull it away from your face. Pausing your movements to look at him, you notice how concerned he seems, which ignites a strange feeling in your chest, comfort perhaps. You chuckle softly before replying, watching how his eyes never leave your face.
“It’s a little too late for that, I’m afraid.” He doesn’t match your laughter, aware of your attempt at deflection. A deep pit of sorrow seeps its way through his chest, which feels strange considering it’s not currently attached to him. It’s at this moment when he realizes how much he cares for you and decides that when you find Nami and the rest of his body, you’re coming with him. He’d be damned if he let anyone make you feel anything other than happiness. For a few minutes, you just watch each other, deciding what to say. In the end, Buggy is the one to break the silence.
“I know what it’s like to not fit in, but trust me when I say you’re a treasure, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot. This crew is lucky to have you, they should be making you happy, not sad.” He smiles at you, his usual teasing nature completely gone in exchange for raw sincerity. 
“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I meant it when I said I had a spot for you on my crew. You’d be treated like royalty, which is exactly what you deserve.” Unlike the first time he said it, you actually consider what it would be like to join him, the thought bringing a small smile to your face. 
“There’s that gorgeous smile. You’re too pretty to be sad, angel.” His words may be flirty, but he means each of them wholeheartedly. You chuckle and blush breaking into a full smile.
“How are you so sure your crew will like me?” You ask softly, tilting your head at him.
“They’d be stupid not to like you. And even if they don’t, their Captain does which means they don’t really have much of a choice.” He smirks up at you, enjoying the little giggle you let out. “At the end of the day, they’re below me and you’d be beside me, so at the very least they’d respect you. Knowing my crew though, I can pretty much guarantee they’ll like you.” 
You listen to him speak with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like someone actually understands you, even if that someone is technically your crew’s rival. He grins as you nod, observing you with an almost wondrous look.
“We have to find Nami first though, okay?” You declare, pointing your finger at him playfully. Buggy laughs and nods, swearing that neither of you will leave before the redhead is found. A yawn slips out as you chuckle, the fatigue from the day reappearing like a weight on your shoulders.
“It’s late, we should get some sleep. Besides, tomorrow’s the day we rescue your friend and I’d rather you didn’t fall asleep on me.” He says with a smirk, and you nod, giggling softly to yourself. Pulling back the blanket, you move to lie down, placing Buggy’s head on its side on a pillow in front of you.
“Good night, Bugs.” The clown smiles at the nickname, gazing at you fondly as you snuggle up with the blanket.
“Good night, darling.” He says softly, watching you close your eyes. He takes the opportunity to study your features, afraid that if he looks away he’ll forget them. After a while he hears your breathing even out, signaling your unconscious state. Only then he closes his eyes, hoping to dream of you.
—---
The next morning goes by quickly, everyone preparing for the rescue they’re about to attempt. Buggy’s directions were correct, and Arlong Park was visible just on the horizon. The energy is full of excitement and anticipation, with everyone looking forward to seeing Nami again. Right now, you’re sitting on the deck surrounded by the rest of the crew as they discuss the game plan.
“You know the layout of Arlong Park, don’t you, clown?” Zoro’s tone is harsh, and Buggy has to physically resist rolling his eyes. He’s placed on your lap, something that keeps catching the eyes of Sanji, perhaps with a hint of jealousy. The only person who isn’t actively glaring daggers at him is Luffy, though that doesn’t say much considering the pirate is always happy.
“Yes, but I won’t be much help as a head, so we need to find my body first. Then we can go after your navigator.” If it wasn’t for your gentle touch on the sides of his neck, he would’ve gone off by now, annoyed at being treated like a prisoner. 
“I can help with that,” you pipe up, and everyone nods in agreement. The group discusses some more, everyone being assigned various roles to assist in the operation going smoothly. After that, you all gear up, your goal being to reattach Buggy’s head to his body before you can help the others. Soon, the boat is docked a little away from your destination, not wanting to signal Arlong’s men of your arrival. 
Trekking through the foliage, you finally make it to the gates and split into groups, deciding that it’ll be easier to cover more ground that way. Your group consists of yourself, Buggy, and Sanji, as the chef didn’t trust the clown being alone with you. The blue-haired pirate directs you towards a hidden entrance along the side of the park, one in which you hopefully wouldn’t be spotted. Following his directions, you come across a small clearing in the trees, Sanji following right behind you. 
“Where do you think your body is being kept?” You ask quietly, hoping your voice doesn’t tell Arlong or his men of your locations. 
“Probably somewhere amongst the carnival games. Since he’s taken it I’ve noticed they’ve been throwing something at it, probably darts based on the sensation. Arlong likes to mess with people anyway, so it would make sense.” Nodding, you head towards that area, allowing Buggy to tell you where to go since he’s the only one who’s been here before. Not long after, you stumble upon what you’re looking for, Buggy’s body pinned up against some balloons. Breaking out into a large smile, you look down at Buggy, and he grins back up at you.
“Wow, you were actually right,” Sanji comments, his words full of surprise and bitterness, his distaste for the clown painfully obvious.
“You say that like it’s a miracle.” The clown says in rebuttal, sharing the disdain for the chef. Suddenly, Buggy’s head flies out of your hands as the various parts of his body reattach themselves. Once he’s back to being a whole person, he hops down from the wall, running towards you with joy written on his face.
“It feels better than I even remembered!” Says the clown, running his hands up and down his arms. He turns to you with a grin.
“Now let’s go find your friend.” You nod at him, his happiness triggering your own. 
While searching for Nami, you run into the rest of your crew, who seem to be in a bit of a hurry.
“What’s the matter? Did you find her? Is she okay?” Right as Usopp is about to answer, a familiar voice rings into the air. 
“Miss me that much?” You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and a huge smile breaks out on your face as you see Nami running towards you. She smirks at your expression before continuing. “We need to get out of here before the rest of the Arlong pirates find us, we can catch up later.” You nod quickly, picking up your pace, and start running behind the others, Buggy at your side. 
Once you all are far enough away from Arlong Park, the crew stops to properly greet Nami, yourself included. You can tell she’s not much of a hugger, so you make sure your embrace is short. As you all talk amongst yourselves, Buggy stands a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt the moment. After everyone had a chance to talk to the red-haired girl, she finally notices the clown standing awkwardly a few steps away and furrows her eyebrows in confusion. 
“What the hell is he doing here?” She asks shortly, starting to walk in his direction. You quickly move to stand in front of her, preventing the two from fighting. 
“It’s okay, he’s okay,” you say quickly, and are met with a confused look from the girl. “He actually helped us find you. I mean, we had no idea where we were going until he showed up, considering you are our navigator.” She scoffs at the idea of Buggy willingly helping someone who isn’t part of his crew.
“Oh yeah? How’d you get him to do that? Torture him or something?” Nami looks at Buggy suspiciously, not believing that he actually did something nice for once. You shake your head, chuckling nervously, not sure how to explain the whole ‘I gave him a bath and we kinda connected’ thing. Lucky for you, Buggy speaks up.
“Your crew member here is very convincing.” He takes a step forward, gesturing to you with a cheeky smile. She just watches the two of you for a moment, finally connecting the dots between Buggy’s friendly attitude and your flustered demeanor. 
“Huh. Well, that’s something I didn’t expect to see today,” says the redhead, her timbre nonchalant.
“What didn’t you expect to see, Nami?” Sanji quickly asks. Now that she’s back, Sanji is taking every opportunity he can find to speak with Nami.
“Y/N hooking up with the clown. They didn’t seem like the type but I guess we all have secrets.” She looks at you with a smirk, a deep blush blossoming on your face. The rest of the crew looks surprised, especially Usopp, now that your little fancy has been blatantly stated.
“Wait, you have a thing for the clown captain? How am I only finding out about this now?” Usopp asks with a smile on his face.
“You really haven’t noticed? Even though I can’t possibly fathom why, they’ve been spending every second together the past few days. I mean, they’re always blushing around him, and that’s a sign of only one thing.” You’re surprised that Zoro seems so calm now, especially considering the way he reacted in the beginning. There’s no smile on his face, but he doesn’t appear to be upset. “You really need to be more observant of your surroundings, Usopp.” The swordsman shakes his head, baffled at his crew member’s ignorance.
It’s Sanji who turns to you next, a mix of emotions on his face. “So you two are really a thing?” he asks hesitantly, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. By now you’re sure your face is deeply flushed, not used to being put in the spotlight.
“Let’s just say I’m pretty fond of your crew member,” Buggy looks at you cheekily, enjoying the blush on your visage. Sanji stays silent for a moment before nodding, leaning closer to say something to you.
“Just be careful, darling, okay?” His voice is gentle, and he backs away as soon as he sees the glare the clown is giving him. Suddenly Nami walks up to Buggy with a tough look on her face.
“If you hurt them, I’ll make sure you’re just a head, permanently.” He immediately puts his hands up in surrender, knowing that she fully means the threat.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, they’re too precious.” The look on the clown’s face shows his fear of her, a sight that almost makes Nami’s lip quirk. 
“Good.” She turns back to you, the smile returning to her face. 
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ll actually miss you.” You knew this was the closest Nami got to being sappy, and you moved to give her one last hug.
“I’ll miss you too, Nami. Keep the boys in check for me, will you?” The navigator chuckles at your question, letting you go from the hug.
“Oh I will, you don’t need to worry about that.” Despite not knowing you for long, Nami secretly always liked you, finding you the most enjoyable to be around, unbeknownst to you.
Turning to the rest of your crew, you can tell they’ve already figured out your decision. You walk up to Luffy first, who’s beaming at you like a little boy.
“We’ll miss you too but I can tell this is what you want.” Your lips tug upwards at his statement, appreciating the way he values your wants and desires. “You know you’re always welcome on the straw hat crew, right?” His question makes you smile, and you nod in response. Stepping closer, you give him a tight hug which he happily reciprocates. ‘Always so touchy’ you think to yourself fondly. After pulling away, you say goodbye to the rest of the crew members, even getting a small “good luck kid” from Zoro. 
“Until we meet again.” You say to all of them, nodding as a sign of respect. They wave at you as you walk away, following Buggy to go find his crew. As you’re walking, he stops abruptly and turns to you.
“Oh! I forgot something.” Raising your eyebrows, you start to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, when suddenly he carefully grabs the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his. Your eyes widen for a second out of surprise, but you quickly close them and kiss him back, moving your hand to his bicep. He grins at you after you pull away, taking pleasure in the shy look on your face.
“Cat got your tongue?” The blue-haired man says softly, referring to the conversation you had the day you first met. You giggle and shake your head, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around you.
“You’re too cute, you know that? Now come on, I’ve got some people to introduce you to.” You look up at him as you pull away, smiling as he grabs your hand to lead you to his crew. 
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queenimmadolla · 22 days
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Do you think some of Eddie peers are jealous that he’s got wife and 3 kids at home, sure Eddie feel into the rock and roll lifestyle but he didn’t let partying, groupies or drugs consume him, he’s got a loving wife and adorable kids waiting for him and they see that all of eddies love and devotion is for his family and music. Eddies just like “I do my job, rock out and go home”
Say he got invited to a big after party where he’ll party with Ozzy or Metallica but he declines because he just found out his kids are having their own Wrestler Mania back at the hotel room and he can’t miss that again
Or Eddie takes you to the party and y’all are getting approach and people like your relationship vibe and yall are getting hit on that you get both get a invitation to go to a “different party” in a hotel room and it goes over your head like “oh actually we aren’t staying long we gotta get back before the new Simpsons episode start”
Or when the band gets interviewed we see the kids in the background and the world gets to see Eddie being the best dad and loving husband. Every 80/90’s musician in the rock/metal scene are single, loves to party, and is reckless so Eddie was a change they weren’t expecting.
Sooo….You’re not gonna be very happy with me. Let’s go through this together and hopefully you wont hate me too much because it does get better.
Yes, Eddie’s peers do experience a little jealousy at the family he has, the constant love surrounding him—but he does succumb to the partying, drugs….and almost a groupie (THIS WILL BE TOUCHED ON MORE IN THE FIC IM PERFECTING, DONT THROW THE TOMATOES). He does his job, rocks out, and sometimes he craves reaping the rewards (drugs and parting and soaking it all in—not the groupies, that’s a related situation but not a part of what he craves) of his success. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, he gets caught up in it. And it eats at him because he also knows his wife and his beautiful kids are also a once in a lifetime opportunity. That’s what kicks his ass back into gear.
It’s a life that you enjoy sometimes, love being on his arm, at his side, watching him glow underneath all those flashing lights. That confident smirk on his face, he belongs. It’s completely his element, what you knew he was always meant to do. And for the most part, you love being his wife, the wife of a Rockstar. How he’s always ravenous for you, the way he handles you when he’s fresh off the stage—be stadium stage or a some big fancy hall stage for an award ceremony—the parties he takes you to, the material things, not having to work your ass off to survive anymore, not having to work at all. You hate how women literally throw themselves at him, constantly expose themselves to him (the amount of flashing is INSANE, you see more titties than you ever did in the girls’ locker room back in high l when you’re tucked under his arm) but he only ever has eyes for you (shhh, we’re not talking about the groupie rn, that will be explained and you will understand).
And sometimes, being the wife of a Rockstar is hard. The tabloids are relentless, he tours the world and you stay with the kids, he’s doing coke with his pals and their gals while you’re washing the dishes halfway across the world. He’s partying after tour nights, you’re reading bedtime stories. You’re the wife of a Rockstar alright, and while he doesn’t have a mistress, sometimes the world acts as one. Sometimes the world gets him more than you do and he forgets that. Sometimes you don’t want to be the wife of a rockstar. You just want to be Eddie’s wife.
He gets there though, he gets to the points you’re talking about. Maybe not all of them, but he doesn’t become that messy playboy the world wants him to be. Still looks like a bad boy, but interviewers always note in articles they write, about the toys lingering around the house. Empty spaces on the walls, tables and shelves that had no doubt held picture frames prior to the journalists’ arrival, he was intent on keeping every precious moment and memory with his family private and away from the vicious prying eyes of the public. It’s interesting for you to read, because the first thought of an outsider’s mind is maybe something along the lines of Eddie not being sentimental or ashamed of the family, when it’s the entire opposite.
He starts ditching parties early to go back home and party with his favorite people before their bedtime (and then party with you all night long), starts having you and the kids closer during his shows again (you used to come to a few when Corroded Coffin made it bring, would bring the kids, until the shows got even bigger somehow, rowdier and fans get invasive). its difficult, especially with having to wrangle Maple—but Eddie doesn’t mind it when she runs onto the stage. if he’s feeling particularly nice, he’ll share her with the crowd for a song—but not much longer than that. He’s stingy with his family, protective, doesn’t need people thinking they can throw their unwanted opinions about his own damn kids out there—he’s assaulted people over it. And that’s not to say he hasn’t flaunted all of you, either. Fame is such a bittersweet accomplishment, he wants to show you all off to the world and sometimes he does, but the world is not kind, so he’s gotta keep you close and away from the cameras. He struggles with the back and forth a lot.
Again, the media is not kind to him, even while watching him be a father. But a couple of years from then, when his kids are older, the media/internet/etc. will pull up the photos/videos of him from the past with his kids, being so tender and playful with them. Loving. And he’ll be properly appreciated by them then. The two of you will have risen to be one of Hollywood’s golden couples, by then too. Heavily romanticized—and they’re not wrong.
It gets messy, gets cleaned up, gets messy, gets cleaned up, stays relatively clean. That’s the late 90s and Y2K, baby 😎
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dragonmama76 · 9 months
Text
Eddie and Corroded Coffin are back in Indy for the last stop on their first national tour.  It’s been a whirlwind and they are grateful to have a night off at home before their last concert.  Even though they are physically exhausted, no one wants to sit in the hotel.  Gareth calls down the desk and asks the concierge to suggest some up and coming places they might take in a show and a list is sent up right away.  Looking it over, they decide on Greener Pastures which has a drag cabaret.  The concierge made a note that it was a new break out hit with a wildly talented headliner.  
Fame will get you everywhere, so their manager, Chrissy, calls the club to make sure they won’t be standing in line to get in and they are assured that they will be able to slip in before the official opening of the night.  
Robin Buckley generally loves her job as the weekend floor manager at Greener Pastures.  Even though in real life she is still a bit socially awkward, here she plays her part with ease.  Dressed in a fashionable, tailored suit with her hair slicked back and some heavy eye makeup she has a confidence that she fervently wished she could carry into her personal life.  But when she gets the call from the manager of Corroded Coffin she can feel the facade slipping a bit.  Assuring her that getting them in quickly and quietly is no problem, her brain starts to go into overdrive.  But this is her job and she knows how to execute.  First stop is the doorman.  “Harry, we have some VIPs coming in soon.  You know Corroded Coffin?  Well we are hosting all four of them tonight.  Please walkie me when their car pulls up and go ahead and let them in right away.”  “Sure thing, Rob!”  Harry replies, nodding agreeably.  Second stop is her lead waitress.  Robin instructs her to sit them at a front table and make sure they get the best service.  And then finally, well, she has to tell Steve.   
Steve stares at Robin, his mouth open just a little.  “I’m sorry, what?  It sounded like you just said that Eddie was coming to see the show.  You can’t possibly mean our Eddie.”  
“I do.  I do mean our Eddie.  Eddie Munson.  Corroded Coffin front man and our old pal Eddie.”  
“How?  I mean….do you think he KNOWS??”
“How should I know??”  Robin throws up in her incredulously.  “Their manager called and said they were coming and could we make sure to have space for them and maybe let them in early and I just said great and of course and no problem and now I’m here talking to you.”  
“Okay, Rob, breathe.  I’m sorry.  Don’t get stressed.  You just go out and do your job and I’ll do mine and it will be totally fine.  We’ll see him and he’ll probably recognize us and it will be just fine.  It’s not like what we do here is a secret, we just haven't seen him since he left.”  
Robin nodded.  “I know you keep saying it will be fine and I’m sure it will be.  Fine.  Of course it will.  I mean, look at us!  He may be a rockstar but WE are fucking amazing ourselves.  You’re practically famous in this town as it is.”  
Steve smiled big, “That’s the spirit!  Hey!  Let’s do the VIP number tonight for his table.  Make sure Maria sets it up, ‘kay?  Love you Rob, but I have to get ready!”  
Eddie and the guys are having a great time enjoying the show.  The singers are all fantastic and the performance is top notch.  Plus the service is some of the best they’ve ever had.  Their waitress is attentive and friendly.  He makes a mental note to thank whoever it was that suggested they come out here tonight. 
Suddenly the lights go out and the announcer’s voice booms out,  “And now, our very own, the lovely Miss Stevie!”
The music starts with a quiet riff and suddenly the spotlight shines in front of Eddie.  Miss Stevie is sitting on a stool that’s been placed right in front of Eddie.  She gives him a big wink and sings,  
The minute you walked in the joint, I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender.
Eddie sucks in a breath and can feel a blush rising.  He enjoys a man in drag, but he wouldn’t say it’s normally an attraction for him.  This is a definite exception.  
Good looking, so refined. Say, wouldn’t you like to know what's going on in my mind?
Miss Stevie was something else.  Gorgeous brown eyes and a teasing smirk.  Tall sparkly heels, fishnets, babydoll slip dress.  She reminded him of someone, but his mind couldn’t hold on to a coherent thought.  She was singing right at him and he never wanted her to stop.  
So let me get right to the point, I don’t pop my cork for every guy I see.  Hey big spender!  Spend a little time with me.
As the chorus of ladies came in to pick up the song, Steve leaned down to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “Hey man, if you want to come backstage later and say hi,  just let Rob know” Indicates Robin with flourish and a wink, and hops gracefully back on stage to continue the song.  All the while flirting with Eddie for everyone to see.  
The song ends and Eddie applauds enthusiastically, wanting it to never end, but also hoping it would end quickly so he could go meet this beauty.  
A couple songs and an encore later and Miss Stevie finally struts off-stage for the last time that night, blowing a kiss to Eddie as she leaves.  
Robin heads over to Eddie.  “Mr. Munson, Miss Stevie mentioned you might want a private tour backstage?”  The guys hoot and holler while Eddie blushes, but he eagerly agrees to go. Turning to the guys he shoos them out the door,  “Okay, alright, I guess I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow!  Don't get into any trouble on the way back to the hotel.”
Robin is already moving at a brisk pace, so Eddie picks it up, never quite managing to catch up to her as they move around tables and down a dim hallway past open doors with performers kicking back after the show.  Finally, they get to the last door and Robin knocks once and enters.  
Steve is at his makeup vanity, wig off, carefully wiping his face when he catches a glimpse of Eddie trailing behind Robin. He turns grinning, and in his best Southern accent says, “Why, Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe!”
Eddie does a double take, “STEVE HARRINGTON??  What the HELL, man??”
Steve and Robin collapse in a fit of giggles while Eddie just stares.  
When the fit of laughter eventually subsides amid comments like, “Your face, man!  I wish Jonathan was here to capture this all on film!”  and “I thought you would have at least recognized Robin, though!” 
 “Yeah, what’s up with that one??  Have I changed that much since high school??” Robin demanded.  Eddie sputtered,  “It was dark in there!  And no offense, Buckley, but you were NOT who I was paying attention to.  Christ, Steve, how does the King of Hawkins High become the reigning Queen of Indianapolis?”
“Couldn’t take your eyes off me, huh, big boy?”  Steve purrs, and enjoys watching Eddie turn a delectable shade of red. 
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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i'm thinkin heavily on our rival jayj n rafe au where the kook has dragged you to some rager of a party at another sprawling mansion n just maybe you drank a little more than used to - or even pressured into a few pills you don't know the name of n rafe is coked out somewhere. obvi gonna call jayj to the rescue, havin him search the grounds of this place n dodging random chicks til he finds you hazy eyed n confused in some corner - 🍓
✧˖°.🩷✧˖°.
you don’t remember having texted jj, because it’s a pleasant surprise when you see him — somewhere in the back of your mind questioning why on earth he’d be at a party like this.
rafe had dragged you here, and briskly disappeared into the night as business called to him, surrounded at a coffee table by rich folks with the urge to vacuum powder up their noses. rafe needed the money, even having complained about this ‘barry’ character on the way to the party — hence why he was just so eager to ditch you to make some. you clutch your arms in the corner, feeling simultaneously cold and boiling hot. you don’t remember what you’ve ingested, if anything at all — maybe you just took a red solo cup of alcohol to the head too many — but you were certainly feeling it, whatever it was.
your vision of jj prying a drunk girl who had thrown herself towards him off his torso with a wince, distorts suddenly to the blonde squatting right infront of you, and you blink a few times before you realise you’re not just watching him through a lens, and that he was infact looking right back at you.
“jayj, what are you doin’ here?” you smile, eyes soft and full of fondness — that’s how you feel anyway, to him you look totally out of it as you shiver in an abandoned corner.
“i’m uh— i’m here for you cupcake. texted me, remember?” his eyes dart up and down you, trying to suss out what sort of state you were in. your glossy pout presses together in a blissed out smile and you shake your head slowly, displaying zero recollection. “alright well, i’m gettin’ your lil ass out of here.”
you’re walking suddenly, no — not quite, being guided with a firm hand on your waist. jj is driving you through crowds of people, his voice is clear, the blonde in the cap confidently barking out commands to make way.
“kook princess comin’ through. valuable cargo. beep beep, thank you.”
his familiar goofiness sends you into a spell of giggles as you arrived on the lawn, jj allowing you to drop to sit on the step on the quiet porch. he’s wearing a zip up hoodie, but it quickly ends up around your shoulders as you sniffle happily at the night sky, turning your cheek to gaze your hazy eyes into his own.
“you look after me, jayj.” you observe obviously and he blinks, shrugging a shoulder and shuffling on his ass as he gets situated beside you.
“think i’m just gonna leave a lady in distress when she texts me to come get her? hell nah. kie told me that’s like, fuckin’… bad karma or whatever.” he chats, looking you over once more as he watches your body rise and fall with slow breaths. “what’d you take?”
“dont remember. jus’ remember rafe leavin’.” you hum, detached.
“babe, he’s — he is a total asshole. why the hell do you hang with him? enlighten me. i’m beggin’ for some clarity here.”
you turn and look at him again, really look at him this time like it’s the first time you’re seeing him. your voice is detached and yet totally present at the same time, the harrowing realisation of your evening weighing down on you.
“i… dont know, jj.” after a pause he breaks the silence, not wanting to throw you into a bad mindset— he was everyone’s favourite trip-sitter after all.
“s’alright, sunshine. you were lead astray tonight. it happens. lucky for you, your ol’ pal jj is here to save the day.” he chuckles uneasily, craning his neck round to look back at the house party in motion. where could he find a bottle of water to feed you?
“you’re more than a pal, jj.” you sigh and his head snaps towards you.
“y— say uh— say that again, sugar?” he frowns, needing to be sure he heard that correctly. in an instant, you’re distracted by a stain on your skirt and you tsk, tugging at the material.
“ohh, what happened?” you whine, rubbing at the muddy splatter on your clothes. he’ll pocket that comment for another time.
✧˖°.🩷✧˖°.
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seungkw1 · 2 months
Text
the truth is out there — csc
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♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ wc: 8.2k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.
‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡
When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.
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10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.
taptaptap
The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted. 
“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.” 
Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.
“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your annoyance.
“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.
The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.
You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”
Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head. 
The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the two months you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed. 
Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses. 
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”
The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette. 
“I’ll spare you the bullshit, Y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”
You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.
“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”
He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional. 
You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues. 
“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”
You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true. 
“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”
Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…
“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”
“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”
Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response. 
“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”
You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”
Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”
You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished. 
“Alright then, so when do I-”
“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure. 
“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster. 
“Great. We’re counting on you, Y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent. 
“Dismissed.”
You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator. 
X-files, here I come, I fucking guess. 
—-
Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good ten minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside. 
“Come in.”
You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40. 
The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.
In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you. 
“I presume you heard me coming,” you state. 
“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing. 
You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.
Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.
You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent Y/ln, I’ve been-”
“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor. 
“They told me you’d know that,” you admit. 
The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately. 
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours. 
“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.
“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”
An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.
“I’m so glad you asked.”
You quickly skim the details: a series of disappearances in a small town, all teenagers. So far, no bodies have been found. Local law enforcement has compiled a list of suspects, but they don’t seem to have many leads.
“Okay, so we have a potential serial killer.” 
Choi shakes his head. “That’s what the local police think. Which seems reasonable, unless you’re familiar with the location.”
You glance back at the file. Spirit Lake, Iowa.
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s a known UFO hotspot. Sightings have been reported for decades, most notably in 1967 when there were three different sightings - one of which was caught on camera by two different witnesses.”
He hands you a stack of old polaroids. You flip through the grainy photographs, which all appear to showcase an ambiguous but distinct saucer-shaped object in the night sky.
You stare at your new partner. “Choi, this could be anything. Most so-called UFO ‘sightings’ are nothing more than aircraft that are very much from Earth.”
“The U.S. Weather Service officially stated that it was a weather balloon, however no weather balloons were launched within 500 miles that day. There were also no flights - civilian or military - on record for the area that night.”
“And have you considered that this could all just be a hoax?”
“Sure, it could be. But what if I told you that in 1967 there were also three recorded disappearances, all coinciding with the UFO sightings?”
He hands you a separate case file on the 1967 disappearances. All of the cases are closed, as the three who went missing eventually turned up again - unable to account for what happened to them, but otherwise unharmed.
You close the file, setting it on the desk. “So let me get this straight: you think these people were all abducted by aliens. And you think the exact same scenario is happening again, this year?”
“There have been three recent UFO sightings in the area reported, and we have three missing teens. It all matches up.”
You stand there in silence, at a loss for words. Guess everyone was right, you think to yourself. The man is insane. 
“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” you finally respond. “How exactly are we supposed to contribute here? Looks like they’ve already exhausted all leads. Why the hell do we need to fly out to Iowa?”
Choi gives a knowing smile. “They found the first girl this morning. Alive. Barely remembers anything, but unharmed.”
“And you want to go catch some little green men.”
“Actually, ‘little green men’ is a misconception - known encounters have widely reported extraterrestrials to be gray-skinned and not that much smaller than us. But anyway, more or less - yes, we’ll be in search of evidence that alien life is making contact with humanity.”
You stand there in disbelief. So this is where you’ve ended up - in the basement with a madman on a wild goose chase. As you’re thinking about quitting on the spot, Choi goes back to his computer.
“Anyway I’ll get us booked for the first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he informs as he resumes his typing. “Want me to pick you up?
“No, that’s quite alright.”
“Suit yourself.” 
You wait for him to say something further, but he doesn’t. You turn to leave. As you approach the doorway you hear the creaking of his chair once more. Looking back, Choi is facing you.
“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Y/ln.” 
His expression is sincere. You may be stuck with a madman, but at least he’s not a complete asshole.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
You feel Choi’s eyes follow you as you exit the room.
11 September 1993 Spirit Lake, Iowa
The gravel driveway crunches loudly as the rental car slows to a stop. Your partner shuts off the ignition and turns to face you, his left hand still resting on the wheel.  
“Ready?”
You glare back at him. “You’re acting like this is my first case, Choi. I’ve done this before.”
You open your door and exit the car before he can reply. You’ve barely gotten started on this investigation, but he’s already on your nerves. 
You approach the cottage-style house and ring the bell. A disgruntled-looking woman in her 40s opens the door.
“Mrs. Miller? I’m Agent Choi, and this is my partner Agent Y/ln.” You both raise your badges. “We’re here to speak with Alexandra, may we come inside?”
Mrs. Miller practically scowls at you. “She’s already spoken to the cops three times, leave us alone.” The door slams shut in your face.
You and Choi shoot a look at each other. You hear a voice shouting inside, followed by loud arguing. The door reopens to a young girl, high-school age, with jet black dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, and a nose ring.
“Ignore my mom, she’s a huge bitch,” the girl says as she steps outside, slamming the door behind her. She marches past you. “I’ll talk to you, let’s walk.”
Choi raises his eyebrows at you as he turns to follow the girl. You join him.
“You must be Alexandra,” he says to the girl, who is still walking.
“Alex,” she corrects. The girl finally stops, turning around to face you. “Are you going to take me seriously or are you just going to laugh in my face like the cops did?”
“I believe you,” your partner assures her. 
The girl turns to you, arms crossed. “I take it you’re the skeptic then?” Before you can respond she continues. “Trust me, I am too. I’ve always heard all the stories growing up about the abductions in this town, but I thought it was all bullshit. But I don’t know how else to explain what happened to me.”
“Can you start from the beginning?” Choi asks.
The girl sighs. “Yeah, sure. I was driving home from my friend Becky’s house, by myself. It was pretty late, like around 9pm. I was on Campbell Road, I had just passed the old schoolhouse. It was dark as shit and nobody else was around. Then suddenly there was this crazy bright light, it was all around me and I couldn’t see anything. I remember slamming on my breaks, but I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how long I was out, but I do remember waking up a few times and I swear I was in some like laboratory or something. I was laying down but I couldn’t move - I could just barely make out some figures standing over me. Then, next thing I know I’m walking down the road again, right where I was driving. No fucking clue how I got there. A deputy found me and took me to the hospital. They told me I was gone for six days. I had to talk to the cops like a hundred times, but there was nothing else wrong with me so they sent me home. And now everybody thinks I’m fucking crazy.” 
“Nobody believes you, then,” your partner empathizes.
“The cops think I’m lying and that I ran off with my ‘boyfriend’ for a week,” she scoffs. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. But of course that’s what my mom believes now, so now I’m fucking grounded.”
“I’m sorry,” Choi tells her sincerely. 
“Do you have any connections to the others who have gone missing?” you ask.
Alex shrugs. “I mean, we all go to school with each other, but I don’t really know them.”
Choi finds a piece of paper and a pen in his jacket pocket and scribbles something on it, then hands it to the girl.
“This is where we’re staying, if you remember anything else give us a call.”
On the drive back, Choi appears to make a wrong turn. 
“You were supposed to go left,” you tell him.
He shakes his head. “I want to check out the location where Alex was taken from.”
“Why?” you ask, “There’s nothing there. When they found the car they towed it.”
“Just want to check it out.”
You can tell you’re not going to get any further answers out of him, so you just sit there in silence, listening to whatever is on the local radio playing quietly in the background. Your stomach starts to rumble, so you glance at the clock: 4:54pm. No wonder, you think to yourself. You hadn’t stopped for lunch, so you were well overdue for a meal. You made a mental note to look out for restaurants on the way back.
“There’s the schoolhouse,” Choi points out a few minutes later. “We must be close.”
The sound of static fills the car as the radio cuts out. You fiddle with the knob, trying to find something else, but nothing is coming in. Guess we’re out of range.
Suddenly, the car goes silent as the engine dies. You’ve barely rolled to a stop when your partner jumps out of the car and starts running back the way you came.
“Where the hell are you going??” you shout after him. No response. With a sigh you exit the car as well. You see him standing in the road, looking at the ground. He turns as he hears you coming, pointing down to the road. 
“See the tire marks? This must be where Alex hit the brakes.”
You look at the ground to see the black marks, indicating a car had braked abruptly.
“Our car shut off right as we passed this exact spot,” he says excitedly, jogging back to the rental car. As you follow, you hear him trying the ignition a few times, until the car finally turns back on. 
“Look,” he commands as you re-enter the passenger seat. He points to the digital clock on the dashboard: 5:11pm. “What time do you have?” 
You glance at your watch: 4:56pm.
“Many instances of alien activity result in residual electromagnetic fields. It’s often been reported that those visiting such sites will experience ‘missing time’, a phenomenon we appear to have just experienced.”
The look on his face is energized - borderline excited. You stare back at him, unenthused.
“Choi, just because my watch is wrong doesn’t mean we time traveled.”
“Then why did the car turn off in this exact spot?”
“It’s a machine, cars malfunction sometimes,” you respond, nearly exasperated. “You’re trying to connect dots that aren’t even here.”
“These events happening in tandem indicate that something abnormal is going on here, Y/ln. You’re choosing to ignore substantial evidence.”
“Oh my god,” you mumble, holding your head in your hands.
Choi shifts the car into drive and makes a u-turn. “Let’s get something to eat.”
“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said all day.”
He smiles, but says nothing.
On the drive back into town, you subtly watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drives in silence, but you can tell he’s deep in thought - about what, who knows. Despite his ridiculous antics and asinine beliefs, you admit that his passion is oddly inspiring. You find yourself starting to grow fond of your new partner for some strange, inexplicable reason. 
You push that thought to the back of your mind.
13 September 1993
“Can you hand me the Ramos case file?”
You look around for the requested file, to no avail. You joined Choi in his motel room early in the morning to review case files, which is proving to be incredibly difficult as he is apparently one to haphazardly leave shit all over the room while he is working. 
You finally locate the folder and toss it over to him. “You know, this might be easier if the entire place wasn’t an absolute disaster zone.” 
“I like to call it organized chaos,” he says proudly.
It has been six days since the second kid, Mark Ramos, disappeared - and Choi is convinced that he’ll be “returned” today, given that Alex was found after the same amount of time. So, much to your displeasure he planned for you two to stake out the location where he was last seen: the parking lot of the gas station corner store where the boy works.
“Wow, that sounds enthralling,” you told him, deeply sarcastically. 
As you are wrapping up prepping for the stakeout, the landline on the nightstand rings.
Your partner reaches and grabs the phone, stretching the cord across the room and placing the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he continues working. 
“Choi,” he answers curtly.
You hear a muffled voice on the other end utter a few sentences before he stops what he’s doing. A tired look washes over his face.
“God fucking dammit. Alright, thanks.” He slams the phone back onto the base.
“They just found the kid. We missed it.”
You’re secretly relieved that you don’t have to go sit in a car for hours now, but you keep that to yourself. He’s clearly peeved, and although you’ve never witnessed his bad side you’re discerning enough to know that you don’t want to be on it.
“I’m sorry,” you say finally.
To your surprise, he walks over to the bed - where you’re sitting - and plops down onto it, holding his head in his hands.
You sit there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to do.
“Are you okay?” you finally ask.
Your partner sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just thought we had this one.”
You feel the urge to ask the question that’s been on the back of your mind since you met him, but he seems really dejected - and you don’t want to upset him. Fuck it, you decide.
“Can I ask you something?”
He lifts his head up, resting his chin on his interlaced hands as he looks over at you.
“Sure,” he answers. You find yourself starting to get lost in his big brown eyes, but you force yourself to snap out of it.
“Why are you so obsessed with aliens? I mean - it seems like more than just an interest for you. It seems… personal, almost.”
Choi exhales, closing his eyes. He sits up, leaning back onto his hands, staring into the distance with a sense of sadness in his expression.
“When I was 12, my younger brother and I were very close. We were three years apart, but we had so much in common.
He pauses, lost in thought for a moment. He continues.
“Jinsang and I always shared a bedroom. We had a bunk bed, he slept on the top bunk.” He smiles wistfully. “He loved it up there. Always called himself ‘king of the world’. Even as he got older, he never lost his childlike wonder. He was the definition of pure at heart.”
You listen solemnly. You honestly were expecting some off-the-wall answer from him - you didn’t anticipate that it’d be anything so serious.
“Late one night, I was supposed to be asleep, but I was reading a book under the covers with my flashlight. Suddenly there was a blinding light that filled the room, and a deafeningly loud whirring noise that made me cover my ears. I pulled the blanket off me, but the only thing I could make out was some dark figures standing in the room. I couldn’t see who it was, so I assumed it was my parents. I called out for them, but the figures didn’t move. It was so loud and so bright. I was terrified.
Then - I heard my brother scream. He was screaming for help, but I was paralyzed. Suddenly everything stopped. The light and the sounds disappeared in an instant. I looked where the figures were standing, but nobody was there. I didn’t hear my brother anymore either. I jumped out of bed to check on him - but he wasn’t in his bed. I started to panic. I told myself maybe he had run out of the room, but I knew I didn’t see or hear him climb down. I ran to my parents crying, ‘Jinsang’s gone!’ They searched the house, but he wasn’t there. They searched the neighborhood, thinking he had run away, but he wasn’t anywhere. The police investigation went on for months. They never found him.”
He rests his head back on his hands. You sit there silently, not knowing what to say. Your mind races, trying to process his words: So, he believes his brother was abducted by aliens? He may be strange, but he’s not mentally disturbed, I really don’t believe he would just make something like that up… But what can the explanation be? Is it a false memory created as a trauma response to his brother disappearing?...
“I’m so sorry,” you finally tell him. Without thinking you place your hand on his shoulder - but after a moment you realize how awkward that might be. He’s your assigned work partner - you met him three days ago. But, you feel his tension slightly ease - your touch seems to be relaxing him. Choi lets out a deep exhale and sits up - you quickly drop your hand back to your side. He rests his palms on the bed, just barely grazing your pinky finger. You hold your breath as a spark of electricity rushes through your body - you ignore it.
“Thanks,” he says sincerely. “I know how it sounds to other people. But that’s why I get so invested in these cases. I have to know the truth, Y/ln.”
You sit in silence for a few moments. 
“Well,” you finally speak as you get up, returning to the scattered files, “if your theory is correct we have one last chance.”
Choi perks up, a surprised look on his face. He stares at you for a moment, then grins as he processes what you just said. You grin back at him.
“Let’s go catch these sons of bitches.”
— 14 September 1993
Your stakeout plans are back on - this time you’ll be surveilling in the middle of the woods, by the lake, where Mark had disappeared when camping with friends. Choi wakes you unnecessarily early with rapid knocking on your door. You answer in your pajamas, half asleep still. He invites himself into your room as he brushes past you and slams more files on the table. Turning to you earnestly, he begins to recant the game plan. 
“Choi,” you interrupt, trying to shut him up. He doesn’t hear you. He rambles on - practically bouncing with excitement.
“Choi,” you repeat, this time louder. He stops, his round eyes animated with enthusiasm. 
“Yeah?”
“It’s 6:30 in the morning. We’re staking out the location tonight.”
“And?”
“You could’ve at least let me sleep in til 7.”
“No time to lose!” he says eagerly as he turns back to his work, picking up where he left off. You let him yap for a minute before interrupting him once more.
“Can I at least get some coffee first?” 
You head to the nearby shitty diner together, Choi of course working through breakfast. You can tell through his excited state that he’s on edge. This has to go right - it is, according to him, the best chance he’s ever had. You spend the day going over everything, reviewing every last little detail - cooperating with whatever he needs, whether it be tactical or simply supportive. Before you know it the sun starts to go down, and you’re on your way to the middle of fucking nowhere together, to find some aliens.
Choi parks the car on the rocky path near the shore, killing the engine. It’s quiet out here - peaceful. The lake is bigger than you expected, and surprisingly beautiful as it reflects the painted colors of the sun-setting sky. 
“Romantic, isn’t it?” 
You turn and look at your partner, intending to make some snide remark, but all thoughts in your mind vanish when you see him. The golden tones of the dusk sunrays bring out a beautiful glow in his skin, his brown eyes radiating in the light; you knew he was good-looking, but seeing him this close - he is absolutely stunning.
The logical part of your brain starts setting off alarms - you know you should be feeling uncomfortable in the intimacy of the whole situation (he’s your coworker for gods’ sake!!) but it couldn’t be more opposite. The other part of your brain simply has the urge to lean in and kiss him.
“Mhmm, sure,” you reply, feigning sarcasm, veiling your true feelings.
You chat informally with Choi (“You can call me Seungcheol,” the memory of his words flashes through your mind), conversation flowing naturally as you both talk about whatever comes to mind. You find yourself laughing more often than not, and you find yourself relating to your partner more than you ever anticipated. It’s easy being with him.
Logical brain is absolutely screaming at you right now. There’s no fucking way you can allow yourself to develop feelings for your work partner - you know this. 
I’m allowed to like him as a friend, you say to yourself. You’re gonna be working with him for god knows how long, of course you need to get along. But you’re not convinced.
Conversation wanes into the night as darkness falls over the lake. You feel your eyelids grow heavy. Choi notices.
“You can sleep if you want,” he tells you. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”
“I’m fine,” you assure him. But it’s quiet, dark - and soon you feel yourself beginning to drift off.
VRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
You jolt awake, instantly blinded by the overpowering light surrounding you. A deafening booming noise permeates the air - you don’t know what it is, but it sounds like the rumbling of a thousand jet engines.
You can’t see shit, but you can tell Choi isn’t in the car. You heave open the passenger door, straining to push it open against the rush of wind engulfing the vehicle. Once your eyes adjust somewhat you find your partner about 15 feet away, camera in hand. You look up, but you can’t make out the massive object hovering over the lake - all you can see is five giant blinding spheres of light in the sky.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” you scream to your partner - but he doesn’t hear you.
Suddenly, everything stops.
The lights, sound, and wind disappear in an instant. Disoriented in the dark, you stumble over to where Choi was standing, but you realize he’s gone - your eyes adjust and you see him sprinting down the lakeshore. In the distance you see another figure, laying on the ground. Choi approaches the figure, kneeling down next to it. You head toward them, but he turns to you and shouts from afar.
“CALL FOR BACKUP!!”
The figure on the beach indeed had been the missing boy. The ambulance rushed him to the hospital - but just as the previous two missing kids, he was okay. The next day you and Choi were able to get in and talk to him briefly before being shooed out by the nurse. It was the same story as the others - he didn’t remember anything, but he was completely unharmed.
Three out of three missing people now returned, safe and alive - your business here is done. You can finally get the fuck out of Iowa.
You’re pretty thrilled about leaving, but Choi is ecstatic. You remind him neither of you actually solved anything, but he doesn’t care. He got his photos of whatever the fuck was above the lake that night - it doesn’t answer all of his questions, but nevertheless he got what he came for.
It’s dark by the time you depart from the hospital, driving back to go pack up your things so you can leave first thing in the morning. 
Choi parks the car, and you walk back to your rooms. As you approach the motel, he suddenly swings his arm out in front of you to stop you - the door to your room is slightly ajar, the lock broken. Choi draws his gun, and you follow suit. Holding up his fingers, he silently counts down from three. He bursts through the door, sweeping the room. You follow, turning on the light to see the entire room has been utterly ransacked - the contents of your suitcase as well as all the files from your briefcase are strewn everywhere. 
Choi pops out of the bathroom. “All clear, but the bathroom window is open - if they were just here, they still might be nearby.” He sprints out of the room, pausing briefly and motioning for you to wait. “You stay here, I’ll sweep the area.” He’s gone in a flash.
You turn around and grimace at the absolute mess left behind by whoever the fuck was here. With a sigh you begin to clean up the mess, starting by gathering all the documents. As you sort through them all to put them back in some sort of order, you note that everything seems to be there. Your personal belongings all seem to be accounted for as well. Whatever they were searching for, they clearly didn’t find it.
Choi reappears in your room, sweating and breathing heavily. He shakes his head in disappointment. “Nobody in sight. Asked the manager if he saw anything suspicious, but he clearly didn’t know shit.”
He removes his suit jacket and throws it on the table before plopping down in the singular chair. He runs his hand through his sweaty hair as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anything missing?”
You shake your head. “Not a single thing.”
“Shit,” Choi mumbles under his breath. “They were probably looking for my room.”
You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who-”
He waves his hand at you, interrupting. “Don’t worry about it.”
You are worried about it, but you know he’s not going to elaborate even if pressed. 
“Okay. Well, I want to shower and go to sleep, so kindly get the fuck out.” Your tone isn’t angry, you’re just exhausted. 
Choi gets up, but instead of leaving he deadbolts the door and returns to his seat.
“Absolutely not, what if they come back? I’ll keep watch.”
You give him the most exasperated look. “Are you shitting me? I don’t need you to keep guard, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not taking that chance,” he insists as he crosses his arms. 
You’re stubborn as hell, but in the short time you’ve known Seungcheol Choi he’s done nothing but give you a run for your money in that department.
You roll your eyes. You’re too tired to argue with him. “Fine, whatever. Just give me some privacy, alright?”
Choi salutes you as he turns his chair around. “Roger that.”
You shower and make your way back to your bed. Choi is still sitting in the chair, facing the locked door, his gun and holster sitting on the table right next to him. 
“Are you going to be able to sleep in that chair?” you ask. “Looks uncomfortable.”
Without turning, he replies. “I won’t be sleeping.”
“Seriously? You don’t need to stay up all night just to-”
“I’m not sleeping, Y/ln, it’s not up for debate.”
You stare at the back of his head. Sighing, you pull the covers up and go to turn off the lamp, but you pause.
“Choi?” you call out in a soft voice.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
He turns his head ever so slightly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Goodnight, Y/ln.”
With a swift click you pull the chain on the lamp, and the room is flooded in darkness. As your eyes adjust, the moonlight seeps in past the closed blinds, and you can just make out Choi’s shadow as he keeps watch. Protecting you. 
Within seconds, you are fast asleep.
You open your eyes, the bright early morning sun rays peeking in through the window. You lay there, contemplating going back to sleep, when you remember the events of last night. You sit up abruptly to see your partner still in the chair, still facing the door, awake.
“Did you really stay up the whole night?” are the first words out of your mouth.
Choi turns around, his eyes tired but still alert. He nods.
“Did you know you snore in your sleep? Very quietly - it’s cute.”
“Oh, shut up” you grumble as you get out of bed.
Choi rises and grabs his jacket before heading toward the door. “Get ready, we have to be at the airport in an hour.” The door shuts behind him before you can respond with something snarky.
As you make your way to the parked car with your suitcase, you see your partner waiting for you - zoned out in the driver’s seat. 
You yank the driver’s side door open, startling him as he nearly jumps out of his seat. 
“Absolutely not,” you tell him sternly. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, I’m driving.”
“I’m fine, Y/n.”
You go to yell at him when you pause, realizing he just called you by your first name for the first time. He must be delirious, you think to yourself. 
“No, you’re not. And I’d like to make it back home in one piece, thank you.”
“Y/n-”
“Seungcheol Choi get your dumb ass out of the fucking car NOW.”
The expression that washes over his face looks like that of a scolded puppy. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to shout at him. 
“Okay, okay! Fine, you win.” He gets out of the car, walking around to the passenger side. As he opens the door he looks at you, trying to conceal the grin spreading across his face, but failing. 
“I like you like this. You should yell at me more often.” 
You stare at him, exhausted. “You’re insane.”
“So I’ve been told,” he says with a wink as he disappears into the car. 
You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time this week. After a few deep breaths, you reluctantly join your partner in the car. 
“And since when do you call me by my first name?” you inquire as you turn the ignition. The car engine comes to life with a rumble. 
Choi looks at you, his eyelids heavy. He gives you a sleepy smile as you back out of the parking space. 
“I told you you can call me Seungcheol,” he reminds you. 
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He gives no response, but shrugs, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. You stare at him for a brief moment. His black curls lay unruly against his forehead, brushing against his long eyelashes. A faint shadow graces his jawline - the result of not having shaved today. The top few buttons of his shirt remain undone; he didn’t even bother with a tie. Once again, you find yourself stunned by how handsome he is. You push that thought away as your attention returns to operating the vehicle. You shift gears and pull out of the lot. 
“Take a nap, dummy,” you tell him softly. 
Not five minutes have passed into your drive before the sound of gentle snoring greets your right ear. You glance over to see Choi positively zonked out in the passenger seat. A grin involuntarily appears on your face - he may be a headstrong pain in the ass, but even the toughest agents eventually fall victim to the cursed necessity of sleep. 
The “highway” out of town toward the airport is nothing more than a vacant country road. You drive for at least fifteen minutes without seeing a single other car. In the absence of Choi yammering on about some off-kilter conspiracy theory, or recounting a tale of a previous case that seems too fantastical to be true, your mind starts to wander. The events of the past week replay in your head. Unlike your partner you don’t quite believe you saw an alien spaceship, but whatever it was certainly is making you question a lot of things.
Your musings are cut short when Choi suddenly jolts awake, nearly making you jump. 
“Jesus, Choi, you scared me.”
He blinks dully a few times, the gears in his head creaking back to life as he tries to reorient himself. After a brief moment of mild panic he regains lucidity, slumping back into his seat with a groan. He yawns as he rubs his eyes. 
“Sorry,” he responds drowsily. 
“Did you know you snore in your sleep? It’s cute,” you jest, repeating his words from earlier back to him. After a moment, he realizes. 
“Fuck off,” he mumbles - but out of the corner of your eye you see him grin. 
You turn the radio on low volume, tuning into the rock station the dial was already set on. A few minutes pass without words, the crooning voice of Mick Jagger supplementing the conversation. Suddenly, Choi perks up, looking in the rear view mirror before turning around to peer out the back window. You glance in the mirror to see a dark car in the distance. 
“Finally, some sign of life,” you remark. “I was beginning to think we’d entered The Twilight Zone or something.”
Choi says nothing, but you notice the concern on his face. I wish he would stop being so paranoid, you think to yourself. He turns back around but keeps his eye on the mirror. Not even a minute later he snaps his head back to look out the rear window again. 
“Shit,” he exclaims, his voice disgruntled. 
You look in the mirror again to see the same car, rapidly approaching as it speeds toward you. Your eyes dart forward again, only to see another dark car up ahead - parked in the middle of the two-lane road, creating a blockade. 
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says through gritted teeth. 
“Choi, can you please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on,” you ask nervously. 
“Fucking SHIT,” he shouts, not elaborating. 
“CHOI.”
“Stop the car,” he gripes, his head in his hands. 
You apply the brakes, as you couldn’t keep going even if you wanted to. The car ahead is blocking the whole road, and the trees on either side are preventing you from being able to swerve around it. 
The car following you parks, also blocking the road behind you. Two men in dark suits emerge from each car and casually surround the rental. One of them, from the car in front, walks over to the passenger side of your rental - he knocks on the glass twice. 
“Get out of the car.”
Choi unbuckles his seatbelt, taking his time, before reaching for the door handle. He pulls the latch and opens the door slowly. 
“Both of you.”
Your partner turns to you. “Do what they say,” he says quietly.
You follow the mystery man’s orders. It’s early, but the sun already stings your skin as you step out of the car.
You look at the men, trying to get some sense as to who they are, but you’ve never seen any of them before - you presume they would have nothing on themselves that would give any sort of identification anyway. The men’s guns remain in their holsters, but their hands rest on the frames. You don’t doubt that they would shoot you in a heartbeat if you made any funny moves.
“Open the trunk,” the same man orders to neither of you in particular. His tone is stern, but not overly aggressive.
You make eye contact with your partner. He gives you a slight nod.
You take the keys from the ignition and walk to the rear, inserting them in the lock and turning the key. The trunk lid gives a loud clunk as it pops open. The man signals to the two men that came up from behind you - they approach the trunk, pushing you out of the way as they open it. Choi’s hands clench into a fist, but he doesn’t move.
The men carelessly rummage through the trunk’s contents until they find what they were apparently looking for: Choi’s camera bag. The man opens it and pulls out the chunky Nikon, removing its film. 
“Hey, be careful with that!” Choi shouts angrily. 
Once the other man finishes fishes out the remaining film canisters from the bag, they put the camera back. They signal to the ringleader - he nods. The other men immediately return to their car.
The man in charge claps his hand onto Choi’s shoulder forcefully. 
“Thank you, Agents Choi and Y/ln - very much for your cooperation,” he says smugly. Choi shoves the man’s hand off his shoulder, teeth clenched. Without another word, the man heads back to his car. 
“You won’t get away with this forever,” Choi shouts after him. 
The man keeps walking. He doesn’t even turn his head as he replies mockingly.
“Keep up the good work, Agent Choi.”
You watch the cocky bastard enter the driver’s seat - both cars immediately take off. It was over as quickly as it had begun. 
You know Choi is infuriated, but more than anything he looks absolutely dejected. He leans onto the car, his head resting on his arm in defeat. 
“Who were those men?” you ask him quietly - but you suspect he doesn’t know either.
He takes a few moments before he lifts his head, resuming his posture. His saddened eyes lock with yours. 
“They’re the sons of bitches who make sure nobody knows the truth. Lying to the public, hiding information even from us - destroying all evidence that UFOs exist.”
He lets out a deep sigh. “I really thought I had it this time. Turns out, I was just really fucking stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” you tell him firmly. Softer, you add, “And I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you about… well, everything I guess.”
He laughs softly. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I’m the crazy alien guy in the basement, after all.”
He nudges you with his elbow, his voice friendly. “You know, you’re alright Agent Y/ln.”
You smile. “You’re alright too, Seungcheol.”
His face lights up at the sound of his first name. He smiles back at you warmly.
“Now, let’s actually get the fuck out of Iowa,” he says with vigor.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”
20 September 1993 Washington, D.C.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Have a seat, Agent Y/ln.”
You sit in the sturdy oak chair across from the Assistant Director’s desk. You are, once again, joined by the nameless man - smoking his cigarette silently in the corner of the room.
“I read your report on the Iowa case,” Bergman tells you as he flips through the open file on his desk.
You wait for him to continue.
“It is certainly… of lower quality than your usual work.”
You hide a grimace. “What exactly was the problem with it, sir? I was very thorough.”
He gives you a tired look. “Yes, of course - but the report itself is not what I take issue with. What I take issue with is its contents. I assigned you to the x-files as a voice of reason - to rein in Agent Choi, not perpetuate his outlandish theories.
“With all due respect, sir, I followed standard protocol. My report gives no indication that I agree with Agent Choi’s conviction that what we saw was indeed a UFO, and that the government is responsible for some larger conspiracy - I simply detailed everything that I witnessed in Spirit Lake objectively as I experienced it.”
Bergman sighs before closing the file. “Alright, Agent Y/ln. You do good work. But next time, maybe try to prevent your partner from chasing after little green men.” 
“They’re supposedly gray, actually. According to Agent Choi,” you inform him matter-of-factly. 
Bergman stares at you, incredulous. He opens his mouth to say something, but gives up. He waves you out of his office. 
“Dismissed.”
[to be continued…]
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mars-and-the-theoi · 9 months
Text
Deity Letter Writing
Deity letters are, in my opinion anyways, a wonderful alternative to traditional prayer if praying is something you struggle with for whatever reason! Sometimes praying can be uncomfortable for me-for personal reasons, and also formality kind of squiks me out-but writing is something I’m very confident about! And it tends to come much easier to me than praying. I started writing letters about 3 years ago on a whim because I was just frustrated with praying not always working for me. And it’s worked wonderfully ever since! It’s a great way for me to be able to get whatever thoughts or feelings I’m having off my chest! It’s really no different than say if you were writing to a pen pal, or a friend, or whatever. It follows the same format and generally includes the same content (with some differences of course).
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When it comes to formatting I keep it to, like I said, like a traditional letter. I start it with ‘Lord/Lady [insert deity name here]’ sometimes I’ll precede that with ‘dear’ but that’s totally up to you! (Which is another amazing thing about this, you can tailor it to your and your relationship with the deity you’re writing too!).
Then I follow it with a quick ‘introduction’ paragraph, I just say hello, tell Them how I’m doing, tell Them that I hope They’re doing well, little things like that. And again- you can tailor this to you and your deity! You can completely omit this section or add to it. Whatever you want.
I don’t always write to Them when I need something from Them but if you do I usually include it in the second paragraph. If I don’t I usually just tell Them what I’m up to, or that I saw something that made me think of Them, etc.
In the last paragraph I thank Them for well…anything really. Maybe for being in my life, or like with Zeus I may thank Him for any rain we’ve had, etc. to me this is the most important part as it kind of builds this certain…reciprocity (idk if that’s the right word but it’s the best way I can describe it) and also it’s just kind to do! I may also ask if There’s anything in particular they want from me or anything like that. But again- you can omit or include this as you please. It’s not a must.
I don’t always do a like…’sincerely Mars’ part but if you wanted to you totally could! Sometimes I’ll just do a little doodle or maybe a funny joke that I think They’d like, or a book quote that made me think of Them, etc. whatever you want really!
Now I know a major concern is ‘do They receive these?’ And my response is a resounding yes, at least in my experience. If you talk while you write you could totally treat it as a prayer! But I usually don’t and just like…’hear’ the words in my head as I write which is good enough! I usually just call whichever deity it id I’m writing to beforehand in the same way you would before praying or giving an offering! I usually just say ‘Hear [insert deity name] as I write this letter to you’ then go for it! And of course, you can alter this to whatever works best for you. I also may light (or turn on, I use electric candles) their candle and bring it over to wherever I’m writing or listen to Their deity playlist. Just whatever I need to do to ‘get in the zone’.
As far as ‘disposal’ goes, I have a little wooden locked box that I have that they go into! Then when my aunt and uncle do a bonfire I just take it over and toss the letters into the fire. But this part totally depends on you and your situation. You could rip it up, or shred it. Or set it on their altar. If you wanted to you could just write them in a notebook and keep them in there. Or you could do it on your phone! In your notesapp or whoever else.
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nikolaiar · 4 months
Text
COD Men and how you met (TF141 + Alex)
Gn reader but like I’m a guy so idk that may come across
TW: mentions of racism, murder, disgustingly wholesome meetcutes….
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Price:
•You two definitely met at a bar.
•One day after a rough day of training on base, him and his liberty buddy decided to get some drinks at a bar around the area.
•They we’re drinking some whiskey, trading stories when he saw you.
•You we’re with some friends, looking bored. Bars were never your scene but you’d tough it out for some bonding time with your pals.
•Price’s friend sees how he looked at you and teased him a bit, all but daring him to talk to you. So, he takes one last sip of his whiskey before walking over.
•He was flustered, admittedly. He tripped over his words, was flushed in the cheeks, and had an awkward smile on his face…luckily you found it charming.
Gaz:
•High-school sweethearts oh my god.
•Gaz has been a bit of a nerd in high-school (his name is Kyle, idk what to tell you) and always kept to himself.
•He was a person of color in the UK, and didn’t feel particularly accepted by his white peers, so he turned all that energy into his studies.
•Until you came along.
•You didn’t want to admit it, but you used to be a little punk. Wearing leather, running around with a wild yet close knit group of friends, having fun.
•You were a bit of an outcast too, and when you first saw Kyle, you knew you wanted to break him out of his shell.
•After hanging out with you for a few months, he was a changed man. He was confident, happy, and most importantly, in love. He’d only ever admit it to you, but you’re the one who gave him the balls to join the military.
Soap:
• Childhood friends????
•Soap grew up in a small town in Scotland, the place where everyone knew everyone…and that includes you. You would play in creeks with each other, ride bikes, make mud pies, all that good stuff.
•As you both grew up a bit, he would tell you all about how he wanted to be in the military, even trying to join before he was of the legal age.
•At 17, he got in. He promised to stay in touch, but over time you slowly became more distant.
•Years later, you both were invited to a wedding of a mutual friend (as all your friends were to some extent) and he saw you.
•He couldn’t deny how great you looked, and when you looked back at him, he could tell you felt the same. He grabbed two glasses of champagne and walked over, just to see what you’ve been up too, that’s all…
Ghost:
•You’d have to meet on base as a military member or veteran; it’s forced proximity or no proximity I fear.
•You we’re friends with Soap at first. You were only in the military because of financial hardships, so you didn’t take it as seriously.
•This initially pissed Ghost off, but after getting to know you, it grew on him. You could joke back with him but when it was time to get serious, you got serious. He appreciated that.
•I feel like you’d get drunk at a pub and he’d have to carry you back to base. You’d ramble on about how cool he is and how his mask is badass…He will never admit he was blushing that night.
•You will have to be friends a long while. He would never do anything to sacrifice his career in the military, and you respect that.
•After you get discharged, he’d keep in contact with you, getting drinks from time too time…maybe more.
Alex:
•He’d have like a legitimate meet cute.
•Alex just walking into a coffee shop and running into you. But, due to his fast reflexes, he caught both you and the coffee. Like, full on dipping you and everything.
•Alex would help you stand back up and you’d blush before thanking him, and he’d smile sweetly, handing you your coffee…but not before reading the name on it.
•’Y/N…right? It suits you.’
•This is a bit short but like, I don’t have much else to say. The baby boy had a meetcute idk.
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queenie-official · 5 months
Note
Okay so you’re one of the only ones I’ve seen mention AJ recently so I wanted to come to you with this thought. You know the ‘write a prisoner’ website it went around tiktok for a little? Well I was thinking, in a universe where his ending is different (no spoilers just in case your other followers haven’t watched it) reader finds him on the write a prisoner site and they become penpals. You’re able to develop a genuine connection with one another and he’s able to talk and vent to you about everything that’s gone wrong/right in his life and you’re able to do the same thing. He ends up writing you sappy little poems and love notes eventually cause he realizes you are more than just a penpal to him. At some point you end up surprising him with an actual visit and it just solidifies his feelings being able to finally see you in person. If we’re going off of the mafia!au for him, then maybe he ends up having some of his men on the outside start to keep tabs on you..solely for protection purposes of course not because he wants to make sure he’s the only guy you’re talking to. There’s a couple videos I saw where the girls were still able to be surprised with flowers on the doorstep somehow by their penpal and I definitely feel like he’d do the same thing. There’d be a line in one of his notes afterwards of like ‘Did you get my little surprise, sweetheart? Just wait till you see how much I can really spoil you once I’m out of here.’ Ahhh maybe it’s just me that gets all giggly at this idea. Idk just a little thought 😅
main masterlist
OMG STOP I LOVE THIS SM!!
okay so ima break this up a bit because it’s easier for my brain to focus 😭 will start with looking at it from Aj’s character and then from if it was Mafia!Ani
(i’d also like to state idk how the ‘write a prisoner’ website works exactly but i feel like it’s pretty self explanatory so ima just roll with how it works in my mind)
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Aj: becoming pen pals with a prisoner and bonding is a lot easier then you went into the website thinking, you only really go in with the fact you’ll be speaking with a criminal. once you see his photo your interest is peaked (i mean how could it not look at him)
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anyway you guys start off with simple topics when messaging like favorite hobbies and Aj mentions to you that he has a love for playing the piano- (idk about you guys but there’s nothing hotter then a man who can play an instrument and play it well) maybe he even makes a promise to you that when he gets out he’ll play for you.
and Aj is such a sweetheart he so would write you poems maybe he starts off with something simple and sweet that can be interpreted in a friend way because for as confident as a guy he is you make him nervous. he only started writing you poems once you two where close enough for him to feel safe and be open with his thoughts and how he got into this situation. and honestly you don’t think he’s to bad of guy after all he never went out of his way to kill anyone during a heist and he always made sure to donate a percentage to charity organizations, so you’re able to push the fact he’s a criminal aside.
as your relationship with him progresses and his friendly poems slowly turn into something more you realize how badly you want to visit him. to see his pretty face in person (even if it is behind a glass frame) and to hear the voice you’d been imagining in your head. so with all the courage you can muster you do some digging and make plans to surprise him. Oh boy are you grateful you went through with it- seeing him in person was almost surreal. somehow he was more handsome in person and furthermore his gravely voice was definitely hotter then you ever could of imagined. he’s a smooth talker, seemingly more bold in person then he was through a screen (which shocked you since with most people it’d be the opposite). oh and when he sees you… sees your smile- the way you flutter your lashes when listening to him speak- he knows he’s done for, knows that there’s no one else he wants more in his life and even more importantly he cannot wait for his release date.
you make the effort to visit him as often as you can…
Mafia!Anakin: we all collectively agree Ani is a possessive man- even if he doesn’t always show it but Mafia Ani, oh that man isn’t afraid to show he’s possessive in fact as far as he’s concerned he owns you. so to no one’s surprise he 100% has men on the outside looking after you. making sure you’re safe, single unbothered by those around you.
Anakin has connections everywhere, i mean he’s the top boss. so if he wants to surprise you with something he will, and he’s got the money for it so honestly what’s stopping him?
waking up and getting ready to start your day only to here your doorbell go off, opening your front door to see a huge bouquet of flowers. it really confuses you at first- i mean you don’t really talk to other guys (probably because every time you did they suspiciously disappeared- if you had their number and messaged them all they’d say is they moved away) so who are they from. taking them inside and seeing a note on the ground that must of fallen out of the bouquet your question is answered.
‘Hope you like them Pretty girl’
it’s not even signed but you know exactly who it’s from. of course you confront him at your next visit, and once you do all he does is give you a sly little smile through the glass as you both hold the phone next to your ears.
‘just wait till you see how much i can really spoil you once i’m out of here’
ugh that resonantes with me sm 😩 he 100% would say that and then swiftly move the conversation along as you blush silently, something about how he said it or maybe it’s the look in his eyes that leaves you flustered.
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i think i ranted a bit to much about this 😀 my apologies huns 😭 but anyways you’re so real for this and thank you for dropping it in my asks 🫶🏼
you’re actually my first ask too so 🤭🤭 thank you for the absolute serotonin boost this gave me Xx <3
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yandere-writer-momo · 9 months
Note
Baki boys meeting their pen pals since childhood??
THANK YOU FROM SAVING ME FROM THE LACTATION ASKS. I owe you my life
I’m drawing a blank on this one so you’re only getting Katsumi and Retsu
Yandere Baki Head Canons
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Meeting their penpal in real life
Katsumi Orochi
Katsumi had originally signed up for a penpal out of boredom but he had become extremely attached to you. Your letters became one of his reason to look forward to each day. You’re the only person he’s ever had romantic interest in since he’s so busy with karate.
The two of you sent letters to each other for almost a decade. He couldn’t get enough of you. Sometimes he swore he could smell your scent lingering on the letters and it made his imagination go wild… could you love him? He invited you to come see him in real life
Katsumi nervously waits at the gate at the airport. He’s pacing back and forth, he is so anxious
He recognizes you as soon as you walk through the gate. This golden retriever of a man hurdles toward you to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace as he swings you around. Your laughter filling the gate at his action.
Katsumi excitedly chats with you as he takes you to the baggage claim to get your baggage. He’s surprised you packed so lightly when you finally came to be with him (your future husband). Katsumi carries all your bags for you (he won’t let you lift a finger)
Katsumi then excitedly shows off Japan to you throughout the week. You love Japan. It’s a beautiful country and there’s so much to do. Katsumi shows off the dojo he runs and even tries to teach you some basic karate. You tell him how cute he is (it goes straight to his head)
Katsumi loves to take you out to eat and he loves taking pictures of you. He insists it’s to immortalize your memories together but it’s to add to a photo album to show his future kids how prettier their parent was (he’s delulu)
The karateka gets clingier as the days go on. It isn’t long before you figure out he’s trying to date you. You were taken aback at first but with how genuine he seemed with his feelings, you weren’t bothered by it. Katsumi was such a sweet guy… he must have been lonely
Katsumi shyly asks for permission to kiss you and once you do, it only furthers his delusions. His kisses are so soft and sweet. You can tell he’s new to all of this
Katsumi is a bit shy in all of his touches but once he’s more comfortable, he gets more confident. And it won’t be long for him to confess to you and ask you to be his spouse
If you do say no and try to leave, he will hide your passport from you. He won’t let you leave, he knows you’re in love with him. He’ll just have to make you realize it
Kaioh Retsu
He because your penpal due to his peers pressuring him to talk to someone. So he decided to do it the old fashioned way, sending letters to a random address in a foreign country. It must have been fate that there was someone living at the address… and even more so when the two do you were compatible. Years ticked by and he still found you to be the most amazing person in the world. He wanted to meet you…
Retsu adores you. You’re witty, funny, and so easy to talk to, he wants to meet you. He’s a bit weirded out with how sweaty his palms get when he receives a reply from you but he masks his nervousness well from his peers. Katsumi is the first to notice Retsu’s flustered appearance, the karateka encouraging Retsu to go for it.
So here he is waiting nervously at the airport and he’s in awe when he sees you. You’re even prettier in person
Retsu comes up to you and politely greets you. He then offers to carry your suitcase for you to the car
Retsu is extremely polite to you and he’s very respectful of your boundaries. You’re amazed a man like him is single. He’s the whole package!
The two of you share playful banter and a few laughs. You’re very comfortable around each other. It’s like he’s your platonic soulmate… a shame Retsu saw you romantically.
Retsu took you on long nature walks and through museums. He showed you all of Japan’s beautiful nature and took you out to have some of the best tea of your life. And don’t even get you started on the restaurants! Retsu knew how to relax you in ways you didn’t think were possible. It almost made your heart flutter
Retsu was also an amazing cook. You’ve never had such exquisite Chinese cuisine. And he loved your cooking as well. The two of you would cook together as you stayed at his place. It was so similar to domestic bliss, you almost caught yourself staring at his lips once or twice.
And Retsu noticed his tactics had worked. The older man pressing his lips to yours in a quick kiss. Your cheeks a bright red. The man then confessed his heartfelt feelings for you. He said he’d understand if you didn’t want to be with someone long distance which only plucked at your heartstrings. How could you not say yes?
You accepted them with a smile as he pulled you into a hug. A victorious smile on his lips. He had your wrapped around his fingers…
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