Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
romᥲᥒᥴᥱ oᥒ thᥱ sιdᥱ
Summary: Sam finds a part-time job to make a living and meets a sweet coworker who steals all his time and his heart.
Pairings: Fast food worker!Sam Winchester x coworker!reader. Set right before season 1, therefore Stanford!Sam. coworkers to lovers kinda. f!reader. height difference. Finally glasses wearing!reader.
warnings: fluff, use of (y/n), brief mention of body insecurity, not edited
word count: 3.6 k
-this is my first real oneshot because i haven't written fics in so long, bare with me and give me advice or comment. i love love this community so pls do mwah <3
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study, work, sleep. that's all you do at this point in your life. after moving out of your shitty household, away from your family to finally have the independence you always craved.however, you didn't expect this freedom to get you to be working the night shift in a fast food place on the side of the road, near your college dorms just to make 10 bucks an hour. your mother called it “honest work”, you called it bullshit.
the days blurred together; class, work, study, sleep – if barely 4 hours counted as sleep. you wake up at six, chug coffee (that never seemed strong enough), sit through lectures half-conscious, clock into a job you hate, go home, repeat. it's mundane, but you told yourself that this was adult life now. it's the freedom you had been craving right? so you didn't complain.
you thanked your lucky star every day that your parents begrudgingly paid for your studies. not many had that. they worked harder than ever to continue to pay for your tuition, extra hours and all. deep down, it made you feel kind of bad. it's one of the reasons why you signed up for that stupid job you hate anyway. to help them in any way you could, because you could see the dirty looks they gave you every time they paid for your studies. you hated being codependent so might as well show them you're not a complete disappointment.
after finishing your studies, you put on the flashy yellow polo shirt with the bland logo on your left pec; unconsciously tugging at its mid section that highlight the squish of your body in ways that make you feel uncomfortable. you scoot into your jeans and reach for your glasses on the nightstand, putting them on comfortably on your nose bridge. let's get this show on the road.
and sam, poor sam, he on the other hand was stressed the fuck out. he wasnt supposed to be here, he was supposed to be buried nose deep in law text books. or spending his nights in the library. maybe to prove to himself - or to his dad - when this was all over that he was still useful and independent like a normal person. but sam was far from normal and that was clear.
“you think life’s hard, sammy? Try hunting things that wanna rip you apart.” either his brother or dad would have said, but he didnt care. he wanted a family, but he didn't have the luxury of it. instead he was standing under the flickering fluorescent lights of the fast food joint he found to work, wearing a name tag with a name that barely felt like his own; ‘sam winchester’.
sure he was far from home, far from the stress of his family but deep down he still felt like he was running. running from what? maybe his responsibilities. no. it wasn't his responsibility to pick up after his father.
he wasn't looking forward to being the new guy at work, once again having to be thrown into something he'd just have to adapt to. but it wasnt so bad. he had friends in his university, the same one you happened to go to. he had jess, brady, zach, and luis. it wasn't all bad. he bet zach would have a laugh if he saw how ridiculous he looked in this awful uniform.
his boss was talking, but he was barely listening, his thoughts too clouded by sleep as they walk down the backrooms of the restaurant and towards the kitchen. where coincidentally, you just walked into. and oh boy the moment he spots you, its like a breath of fresh air, you looked around the same age as him and just as tired. maybe he wouldn't be such a sore thumb in this new job after all.
you clock into work, waving at your coworkers with a polite smile like you always do. according to your boss, this friendly nature and facade was one of the reasons you were always ‘employee of the month’; you almost scoff at the idea. you, a student doing the bare minimum to survive got you this title. It really shows how shitty this joint is, how little effort the employees put in. this ‘hard earned’ title is also the reason why you spot your boss and a tall young man wearing the employee uniform standing by his side walking towards you with purpose.
“(y/n), we've got a new employee joining our team. As an employee of the month, i want you to train him and show him the ropes, alright? good luck” he says without a breach for protest or a reply. you stand there for a few seconds, rather awkwardly as you and the pretty boy in front of you stare at each other. you push up your glasses, pursing your lips ever so slightly as you think of something to say. this was never asked of you, you were used to just keeping your head down and doing your job, now you were being asked to train a new employee. that's fine.
“Hi.” he greets first, extending his hand politely. this act made your shoulders relax, the warm tone in his voice was enough to break the awkward silence. you are quickly drawn to his eyes, sweet, puppy dog green-brown eyes. it was actually overwhelming as you instinctively look him up and down.
you clear your throat, jerking your hand forward and grasping his hand; shaking it ever so slightly. you hear him let out a quiet chuckle, your cheek flare in embarrassment as you realize he's laughing at your awkwardness. but it isn't mocking, it's genuinely sweet. “hi! uh-so…im (y/n)” you finally cut through the silence you allowed to linger for far too long.
“sam” he replies kindly, so kindly it made you want to squish him. cuteness aggression. “you'll…train me?” he adds, eyes darting down to your still joined hands. but he didn't pull away, surprisingly enough, but you do as to maintain professionalism even though every inch of you was begging for you to just hold this cute boy's hand.
“yup, thats what – yeah thats what im here to do – yes.” you stutter out, scolding yourself internally for acting like this. it made you feel like a weirdo. this boy walks into your life, and within a few minutes makes you feel nervous. you love it. “come” you add, swiftly, turning on your heels and walking down towards the staff down near the back of the building just for some basic instructions to get him on his feet.
the next 2 hours were actually fun. he made training feel like bonding rather than work. you help him with the basics; food safety, customer service, register training, efficiency, all the things that keep this crappy fast food joint up and running like the good employee you are. you two manage to talk so much about your lives during that time, that you don't think you've laughed that much in forever.
you wipe down the counters, the restaurant’s flow of customers slowing down just enough for you to do a general sweep of the kitchen and keep up with the health and safety protocols bestowed upon you. your wrist starts to hurt as you wipe down the counter next to the grill, eyes darting to sam as he readies to cook more of the burgers, which you had taught him to do. “this job is gonna kill me” you mutter, half joking and gently rolling your wrist around as it starts to get sore from all the effort being put into wiping the single smudge of grease on the counter. “feels like ill spend my entire life here, like i aint moving forward, you know?”
sam exhales a laugh, his hand pausing their movements on the grill as he takes in your words. he knew exactly how that felt, its how he used to feel every day living with his dad and brother. more his dad. john winchester was never known for being warm. “yeah, i get that.” he agrees, pausing for a beat to think. “i guess im just used to it, you know. moving, working, not really having the time for – you know, a life”
his words piqued your interest, putting the dirty rag in the water bucket to pay full attention to him. “yeah? how come?”
“my family business.” he shrugs lightly but it felt forced. “my dad mostly. he had me and my brother in the…hunting business since we were little, town to town, never settling down.” he scrapes crumbles of dried burger buns from the counter absentmindedly, thoughts consuming his head. “this whole…stanford thing is probably the longest i've settled down without him breathing down my neck”
his tone makes your heart clench, though you've only met today, it felt like you knew this boy more than most of the people in this job and your university combined. to be fair, you didn't meet many people. you walk over to the side of the kitchen, sounds of cutlery and pots banging in the background seemed to fade with the importance of your conversation. “thats why you got this job?” you ask cautiously
“yeah. mostly. i just wanted to do something normal.” he confessed, shifting on his feet and following your activity by grabbing the spatula sitting by the grill and going back to what he was practicing previously; flipping patty’s. “no hunting, no family to worry about…even if its –” he gestures to the air around us, glaring at the fluorescent lights above. “this. even if it kind of sucks” you stifle a chuckle, knowing he was right. it surprised you how much this boy and you were alike but also so different. it was a breath of fresh air.
you felt like you already knew a lot about him, not all the details, but enough to make you want to dig up more. he was struggling to flip a burger with the spatula. you were watching in amusement by the side of the room, admiring him as he sticks his tongue out and attempts to wedge the spatula under the patty one more time before giving up. “here, let me help” you call out loudly enough for him to hear you but not loud enough to be annoying; the unconscious insecurity of being heard after all. you reach him in a quick few steps, standing beside him and placing a gentle hand on top of his holding the tool.
with practiced precision, you help him push the spatula under the meat patty and swiftly flip it over. your eyes are locked on the food in front of you, not realizing the intimate position you've put both of you in. “ah yes, the mighty spatula is rather hard to work with” you muse lightheartedly, earning a laugh from Sam above you which sends a sense of pride through you.
“this is a weapon i cannot handle” he replies back in the same tone, playing along with you as you work the food for him. your grip on his hand was comforting, warm. it was rare for him to allow this kind of physical contact, but it just felt right with you. and you felt the same.
by the time you realized the position you were in, it made your heart skip a beat. eyes slowly wander up, finally taking in the prominent height difference between the two of you. your eyes meet and it just feels so sweet, warm. a flicker of understanding passes through the two of you, a desire to want to be around each other without fear of judgement or embarrassment. you remember the words he said earlier, feeling the need to speak, you do. “for what its worth, i think its impressive. your independence…and you're not half-bad at flipping burgers” you tease affectionately which sparks another genuine chuckle from him.
sam feels the tension on his shoulders melt away. “yeah you think so?” he purred.
“no, you still suck. but you’re getting there” you reply playfully, both of you laughing together. your eyes catch a smudge of ketchup on his cheek, you had no idea how it got there but you instinctively reach to wipe the condiment from his cheek with your other hand.
it makes him flinch for a split second, making you pause. but then he leans into your palm, your thumb continuing its previous motion and wiping the ketchup from his cheek ever so gently. your hand lingers for longer than necessary, but he doesn’t seem to mind. the smile on his lips growing wider, seemingly excited. it makes your face burn and you pull away, dropping both your hands to your side.
you slowly peel yourself from him, letting out a hearty laugh and fixing the tacky uniform; tugging at its collar as the air around the two of you seems to shift. sam’s eyes cast down for a split second, seeming almost disappointed that you had pulled away. “thanks” he mutters back, eyes back at you. he refused to look away, drawn to you so suddenly as if you were everything he ever needed.
but before either of you can acknowledge what was happening, you smell fire and hear sizzling. your gaze falls on the patty, gasping as you see it burst into small flames. sam yelps and instinctively pulls away from the grill, waving the spatula around before both of your gazes fall on the fire extinguisher.
“shit!” you hiss, taking a few steps back from the grill. he acts faster than you, reaching for it while you stand there wide-eyed. WHOOSH. the fire extinguisher goes off loudly, covering everything. by everything, you mean everything. the fire, the grill, and you. the fire was gone but so was the meat we were preparing and your uniform covered in white foam.
that was until the boss burst into the kitchen, looking pissed off but mostly worried for us. “what the hell is going on here?!” he shouts, rightfully so, to be honest, you think. his eyes fall on the charred patty, the grill and you covered in foam while sam holds the extinguisher like a weapon.
you look over at sam to gauge a reaction out of him just to see him already looking at you. a crack of a smile breaks his look of fear, your face mirrors his until you both break into quiet chuckles. these chuckles grow into belly laughs as you lose it, sam places the fire extinguisher on the floor as you laugh at the idiotic situation you found yourselves in.
you two didn't get into nearly as much trouble as you thought you would, it just put a microscopic stain on your reputation as an employee and put sam to a bad start. but it seemed to be alright with both of you as you walked back to the dorms of Stanford together at about 7pm.
the night was chilly, grey clouds coating the skies as you two walk side by side in comfortable silence. the moment he found out you go to the same university, he offered to walk you to your dorm building and you agreed without hesitation. skip out on this cute guy walking you? no way.
“i swear my feet are so tired, if one more person asked for extra pickles i was gonna lose it…” you murmur under your breath, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips which sparks a softer one from him almost in agreement. “today was so busy, how are you not exhausted?” you ask, adding onto your previous statement.
he shrugs ever so slightly, grinning down at you with a bashful expression. “guess im just built different” he muses, you bump your hip with his in return. “or maybe i just wasn't running around as much as you were, you were all like-” he mimics your stressed-out movements, working in an imaginary station which makes you playfully roll your eyes.
you nudge him with your elbow, biting back a soft grin. “hey, i'm not the rookie here, rookie” you emphasize, he elbows you back in return, his laugh is louder this time. the both of you were internally over the moon; proud you could make each other laugh like this not knowing the other was simply happy with the company.
it was like neither of you wanted to reach your dorms, steps trailing slower than normal. the silence between you two seemed to stretch out comfortably - but you decided to break it. “so stanford?” you ask calmly, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jacket. well, his jacket. the one he insisted you wear after he sprayed you with cold foam.
sam exhales, “well, i needed to get away from my family in some way. where i ended up didn't matter as much” he replied, eyes casting down at the ground as you walk.
“i can understand. your dad doesn't seem like the supportive home-y type” you sympathize, recalling the few things he mentioned about his dad back at the diner. this makes him deflate, guilt stinging your chest as you realize you might have pried too much. “hey, im sorry–” you add quickly, placing a comforting hand on his bicep
to your surprise, he leans into your touch, like hes been carrying this weight for too long. “no, you're okay.” he murmurs. “you're right. my dad isn't really the homey type” he agrees, eyes finally darting from the ground, up at you. well, down at you, again considering the man was a giant.
for a moment, he hesitates as if debating whether to keep going. wondering if you would even care. but the look in your eyes said you would. “my brother…wanted me to stay.” he mutters again, eyes staying locked in yours as you walk. ”i don't think he even knows if i’m alive.” he admits. for a moment it felt like you were the only person he could confide in and vice versa.
“you know…it's so easy to talk to you” sam adds warmly. you could sense the nervousness but genuine interest flowing from him like waves. your hand drops from his arm, brushing against his hand with a feather-like touch for a split second. that split second felt like fire, welcoming fire.
your nose crinkles ever so slightly at his words, pride and relief rushing through you at his reassuring words. you felt…excitement and triumph. the way he looks at you, his touches and his warmth are all signs that maybe, just maybe, this cute co-worker of yours actually likes you. and before you knew it, you were standing under the arched entryway of your dorm building.
you stop by the entry doors, turning your back to them and facing sam with a grateful smile. he returns it shyly, boldly taking your hands in his. his thumbs run across your knuckles, committing their soft surfaces to memory. he brings your hands to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on them. “thanks for letting me walk you…” he mutters, his voice blending in perfectly with the atmosphere. the crickets, the almost nonexistent breeze of the night.
“you're always welcome to do so” you reply, keeping the intense eye contact from before. you feel the thumping of your heart, growing louder and louder.
“i guess i'll see you tomorrow?...” he continues after a few moments of silence. your palms were clammy but you felt emboldened by his words, placing your hands on his shoulder and using it as leverage to reach his cheek. you hesitate for a few seconds but press up on your toes and brush a quick, warm kiss on his left cheek. his skin was so warm under your lips, you almost didn't want to pull away. but when you do, his eyes are wide with wonder as if he wasn't expecting it but it definitely wasn't unwelcome.
“...tomorrow” you agree under your breath, slowly pulling your hands from his and stepping back. your hands fumble behind you as you reach for the door knob without looking away from him. the way his uniform hugged his arms, the way it dipped to show the smallest patch skin just below his collar. you wanted to remember it all night. “night sam…” you call out, finally opening the door and stepping into the building.
sam steps back, eyes lingering on your figure as you walk into the building. a soft sigh escapes his lips, a breath he didn't know he was holding this entire time. it dawned upon him that maybe this whole experience didn't have to be forced. maybe work won't be completely unbearable, not when nights with you like this exist. and little did he know, you felt the same.
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MORNING BLOOM ﹒🌷
childe x gn! reader
waking up with childe will never get old ♡
cw : nothing really, sleeping in the same bed, kissing?, L word😒 (i love you). first fic, cringing so hard😭
waking up, smelling a florescent scent, the scented candle he had bought you not so long ago..
face stuffed into the silk pillow, you raise your head to see him smiling at you, his face all red looking as if he was trying to.. laugh?
“what’re you gonna laugh about?”
“i’m not laughing”
“yeah? ok”
taking the pillow underneath your head you throw it right it is face, cat hair flying off it.. your recently new kitten seems to have taken a liking to your pillow. he spits out the cat hair that landed in his mouth. Grabbing you seconds later, making you lay on top of him.
“acting childish now?”
“oh, like you wouldn’t do the same” looking up at him with a huge grin on your face
he takes his hands and delicately place them on the sides of your face, pulling you in for a small peck.
you can tell he brushed his teeth before you woke up, tasting mint a small hint of what seems to be coffee? maybe tea. doesn’t matter
“how long have you been awake for?”
“mm, around.. 2 hours now”
“oh”
“hm?”
“did you eat breakfast?”
“only coffee”
you rest your head on his chest, hair falling in front of your face. You blow it out of your face, the small wind hitting childes face, his eyes squint. Your cold breath was always going to be something new to childe no matter how many times you blow in his face for whatever reason.
You’re still feeling tired and lazy, you want to sleep again. You can feel your eyelids trying not to shut. you close telling yourself “Just close them you won’t fall asleep”.
You were wrong. Like always, you fell asleep.
Childe notices the faint snoring coming from your mouth, he sighs. Pulling the covers over the both of you, giving you small kiss. He knows you felt it when he sees you smile faintly. Closing the lamp with a small light coming from it.
“I love you”
﹒ . ⊹ ⁺ ₊ 🌷 ₊ ⁺ ⊹ . ﹒
here's a little one shot I made! (it's 2am...) ha! anyway! Dabi and Toga are like siblings in this, while Shigaraki and Dabi's relationship can be platonic or romantic. I wrote it so it can be completely up to you.
The league’s bar was rusty, sure, but all the members that didn't have another place to stay had figured out a way to divide the back rooms of the bar. There were a few small rooms on the sides of the hallway directly behind the bar section. Shigaraki had been stationed on the left side of the hallway, Toga and Dabi had stayed on the right. The hallway had 2 more empty small rooms being occasionally occupied by Spinner, and Twice. Toga and Dabi were 100% brother-sister related in a past life. They hung out all the time in Toga’s room, fought, made up, fought again, made up again… you get the jist.
Dabi had always jokingly teased Shigaraki behind his back with Toga because he knew how it distracted her from her bloodlust feeling that took over quite easily. She was still a child after all, and he knew how it felt to be left out of the family. Dabi, Toga, and Shigaraki were SUCH a family. Well, to him at least. As Dabi and Toga were harmlessly gossiping about the boss, Toga had brought up the question involving Shigaraki: what does he do in his free time? Does he have hobbies? I mean, we know he's sort of a gamer boy sometimes, but can he draw? Does he have the money to buy books? Does he care enough to paint his nails or take care of himself? What does he do?
“I bet he does his makeup! C’mon… we all know he's so picky about everything, he probably does it just to tell himself he's better at us then something ya know?” The precious, blonde-bunned girl said with a hint of playfulness in her tone.
“Hah. I mean, you're probably not very far off, Himiko.” The burnt boy said in his slightly tired, usually raspy voice, and smiled gently. He truly loved Toga and Shigaraki, and this was a time he felt incredibly lucky to know them. But, now he was even more curious. What could Shigaraki possibly be doing? Surely he doesn’t sleep this much, and no one has the attention span to play video games for hours a day, everyday. The man child must have man child hobbies, Right?
“We should go check!” The blondie made a real life ‘:3’ with a slight pout. Dabi, being the older brother he was, couldn't resist. He paused, then sighed, then smiled. Standing up, he held out his hand to help Toga up. She quickly landed on her feet then bolted out of her room down the hallway, almost slipping as she passed her doorway. Dabi quietly giggled under his breath then followed Toga.
The friends met at his door and knocked quickly. Before the shaggy haired boy could answer, “Shiga-!” was called out and his door was wide open by the time the blonde could finish calling his name. Silence followed.
Shigaraki’s face was a light pink color quickly turning into a deep red color.
“Why even knock…” Shigaraki had mumbled under his breath while Toga pouted.
There was an uncomfortably long pause. “Get out.” Shigaraki said now flustered and slightly frustrated.
Dabi had light pink cheeks and was unaware of his slight smile on his face.
“So this is what he does? Man, we were so off, Himiko.” The burnt boy chuckled quietly and looked the best dressed boy up and down. Shigaraki’s hobby was playing… dress up? Touya couldn’t even ask himself where shigs had got the vest or tie from. All he could think about is how amazing his pale haired boy looked.
“I said get out!” The flushed boy raised his voice, and playfully chased Toga down the hall back to her room. Dabi’s eyes followed the two. Amused, he followed behind them and saw Shigaraki and Himiko playfully fighting and teasing each other on the ground. Yes Shigaraki was more of a child than Toga, an actual child, but man was Dabi happy to have them both.
“Hey get off of me idiot!” “Not until you apologize for coming in without asking!” “No way, hehe!”
The banter lasted for another minute or so with Shigaraki laying off a bit, until- “You two idiots’ done yet?” A voice said smirking while leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.
“Shut your face before I decay your ass!” … Dabi chuckled, and was soon running for his life.
i started writing the fanfic about this post: https://www.tumblr.com/ireadfanfictionstuff/770987521978105856/alr-alr-so-hear-me-out-in-the-agni-kai-vs-azula
and HERE is a section of the first chapter which is now on ao3 @rrachulswrites ! this is my first fic on this account! also unbeta'ed and probably not too great, but ENJOY!!:)))
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(side note: would love a beta tysm)
Chapters: 1/?
And if Katara has to sign her life away to a humid country that’s as far away from as she can get, she would do it in a heartbeat for Zuko. If only that would work. If only.
She almost doesn’t hear the first part of what Azula says, but her brain grips onto the second part like a hook through a salmontuna. “Zuzu, of course, the only solution is evident. You’ve thought of it already, haven’t you?”
“You simply have to marry her.”
Katara might faint.
Arranged Marriage/Marriage of Convenience between Zuko/Katara (Aged Up Characters/Canon Divergent after the finale)
Aged up! No curse AU!Megumi Fushiguro x Jirai Kei! Reader
Summary : Megumi just turned 21, and has already received an invite from Gojo Satoru - to go drinking. It's Gojo, after all. He's seeing faces he vaguely remember from college, but fresh faces were uncommon, even in a Gojo party. You, dressed like an angel in pink, piqued his interest.
WARNINGS : people getting DRUNK, you can tell i've never been to a party and drank, mentions of addiction to host clubs, a smudge of angst maybe if you squint really hard, mostly fluff though
Word count : 1.4K (it's so short!!)
AUTHORS NOTE!!: Hello everyone... I started writing this like yesterday and wasn't aware today was his actual birthday..... ALSO this is my first time writing and i'm not 100% in my english..!! I'm not familiar with posting on tumblr as a whole, so with the layout and all that, i'm not quite familiar. Please give me some leeway with that kind of stuff. also, my laptop kind of broke while i was trying to post this, so im typing this from my touchscreen ipad. It's a little annoying, but oh well..
This was also LIGHTLY inspired by @lokissweater 's mlb megumi... i know its not anything close to their levels of writing, but i was kinda inspired to write megumi for my Landmine reader from her and how she writes Megumi.
I talked too much, i'll just let you read it already ^^"...
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
The club Megumi found himself in wasn’t particularly big, but it buzzed with energy. The space was packed with familiar faces—classmates, acquaintances, and a handful of people he’d crossed paths with at one point or another. As soon as he’d turned 21, Gojo had dragged him along to this club, boasting about it being owned by one of Geto’s many “connections.” What Gojo failed to mention was that it was a private party. Not that it mattered much; Megumi realized he wasn’t exactly out of his element.
Most of the crowd blurred together as people he vaguely recognized, but there were a few exceptions. Two were Shoko’s friends, chatting animatedly by the bar. The third was a girl—you—whom Megumi didn’t recognize at all. The strobe lights bathed the room in eye-numbing neon green, but even through the haze, the soft pink of your blouse stood out.
You caught his gaze from across the room, and when your eyes met, you offered a small, awkward smile accompanied by a polite nod. Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks warming with the faintest blush—thankfully hidden by the poor lighting. Still, he managed a curt nod in return, stiff and reserved as ever.
Nobara, watching the interaction from her spot by the bar, smirked to herself. She’d invited you along partly because she knew you enjoyed the club scene, but mostly because an idea had begun forming in her head. You… and Megumi… Yeah, that had potential.
While most of the party (including a very drunk Gojo and Shoko) had taken over the dance floor, Megumi stayed firmly planted at the edge of the chaos, arms crossed. He sighed, his gaze flicking between the reckless dancing and his untouched canned beer.
Adults.
Gojo, currently in a drunken dance battle with Itadori, was reason enough for Megumi to swear off drinking tonight. Witnessing the sheer level of intoxication his mentor had achieved was enough to keep him sober.
Lost in thought, Megumi didn’t notice you approach until he felt the chill of a bottled green tea press against his arm. He startled slightly, turning to find you standing beside him, a tentative smile on your face.
“Figured you might want this. You didn’t touch your beer all night,” you said, holding out the tea.
For a moment, he just blinked at you, caught off guard. Then, taking the bottle, he muttered a quiet, “Thanks. Uh…”
“Oh, right. Um, I’m Y/N.” You dug into your pink MCM bag before pulling out a similar bottle of green tea for yourself.
“So… you’re not a fan of alcohol?” you asked, idly adjusting the lace on your skirt.
Megumi shrugged, taking a sip of the tea. “Not when Gojo’s around. Someone’s gotta stay sober enough to drag him home.”
“Fair enough. He does seem… like a lot.” You cast a concerned glance at the “honored one” himself, doing the Worm on the floor.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Megumi said, the corners of his lips lifting subconsciously. For the first time, he felt like he was actually enjoying himself that night.
A comfortable pause settled as you both observed the other guests.
“You’re… friends with Nobara, right?” Megumi turned his attention to Nobara, who was on the dance floor with a cocktail in hand, her face flushed red from the alcohol she’d ingested, and a feather boa draped across her shoulders like something out of a ’90s movie.
“Yeah. She dragged me along tonight. Said it’d be fun. And I just figured I’d come over and say hi since you looked kind of… out of place.” You laughed softly, his plain shirt and baggy jeans a stark contrast to the vibrant, flashy outfits in the room.
“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a small sigh, running a hand through his hair he hadn’t cared to style.
“A little. You’re the only one here who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else.”
“I’m just not big on crowds. Or neon lights. Or drunk people.”
Another moment of silence passed as you nodded in understanding, observing the dance floor growing even more chaotic.
“You seem like you’re enjoying this,” Megumi said, cocking his head toward the unfolding disasters (Geto spilling his drink onto a very pissed-off Nanami).
“I, uh, I’m used to the nightlife. I used to frequent a lot of bars and nightclubs.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Used to? You don’t anymore?”
You hesitated for a moment, swirling the green tea bottle in your hands. “Not as much, no. I… got addicted at one point, I guess. I was filling a void in myself. But I realized it wasn’t healthy.”
Megumi’s expression softened, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to curiosity. “Addicted?”
You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Not just clubs—host clubs, mostly. I’d go out all the time, spending way too much money just to be around people who’d tell me what I wanted to hear. For a while, I thought it was fun, but… I guess I was filling a void. They hook you in, you know? They leave you alone, and when you start getting desperate, you spend more.”
He frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Host clubs?”
You glanced at him, gauging his reaction, and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know. It’s not the most… admirable thing. But when you’re feeling empty, it’s easy to get addicted to the attention. They make you feel special, even if it’s just an act.”
Megumi took a moment to process your words, his gaze steady but without judgment. “What made you stop?”
You smiled faintly, your expression a mix of self-awareness and vulnerability. “I realized it wasn’t real. I was paying for affection, not earning it. And honestly? It wasn’t making me happy—it was just a distraction. So I quit and started focusing on myself. It’s not easy, but… I’m trying.”
He nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “That… takes a lot of self-awareness. Most people wouldn’t even admit they were doing it to fill a void.”
You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks. I’m not sure if it’s self-awareness or just running out of money.”
That earned a soft chuckle from Megumi, and for the first time that night, the tension between you eased.
“What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus. “You don’t seem like the type to… well, pay for attention.”
He leaned against the wall, thinking. “Not really my thing. I guess I’ve always been more focused on the people I already care about.”
You nodded, impressed by his grounded perspective. “Must be nice. Knowing you’re enough without needing to hear it from someone else.”
He glanced at you, his expression softening. “I think everyone needs to hear it sometimes. Just… not in that way.”
A quiet moment passed between you, the chaotic energy of the club fading into the background.
Finally, you broke the silence with a teasing smile. “So, if clubs aren’t your thing, what is? What would you do for fun?”
“Honestly?” Megumi said, his lips quirking in a rare smile. “Probably stay home with a book or go to a quiet park. Somewhere peaceful.”
You grinned, leaning closer. “A book and a park? You’re a walking cliché.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t seem annoyed. “And you’re not, Miss ‘Host Clubs for the Guys’?”
“Touché,” you said, laughing softly. “But hey, if you ever get curious, I can recommend a few places.”
“Pass,” he said, shaking his head, but the amusement in his voice made it clear he wasn’t dismissing you.
“Your loss,” you teased, taking another sip of your tea. “But seriously, thanks for not judging me. Most people wouldn’t be so… understanding.”
He looked at you, his expression earnest. “Everyone’s got their reasons.”
Your chest tightened slightly at his words, and you found yourself smiling in a way you hadn’t in a long time. “You’re a lot deeper than I expected, Megumi.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but there was warmth in his tone.
And just like that, the club felt a little less overwhelming, and the two of you felt a little more connected. Fein by Travis Scott played in the background of the packed bar at 1:23 a.m. Gojo and Geto slumped over each other groggily as the alcohol took its toll. Itadori darted around, still inexplicably full of energy, while Nobara stood barefoot, heels in hand, complaining to Maki.
Somehow, amidst the chaos, this moment felt peaceful.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
(I hope everyone liked this... I probably will write a continuation or maybe make it a series when i have the time to.)
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Summary:
Monika stumbles into you after her computer science class and immediately falls in love after you helped her pick up her spilled belongings. Ever since, Monika made it her mission to get to know you through her computer science projects, and maybe to ask you to the school dance…
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[Find the full fic here on Ao3]
Preview:
Chapter 1 - Monika's Got a Cru-ush!
"Ugh, why'd I have to be so stupid?! I just... stared at them like a weirdo!" I covered my face with my hands in shame. "It just happened so fast!"
"Don't beat yourself up, Monika. I'm sure they paid no mind." Sayori patted me on the back supportively. "Besides, people like to be stared at by pretty girls."
I sighed, "I dunno... They were just so... nice, y'know?" I stared at the floor, "oh God..."
Sayori giggled, "Monika has a cru-ush!"
Yuri glanced up from her book, taking off her headphones. "Did I hear someone say 'crush?'"
"You sure did!" Sayori beamed, "Monika likes someone!"
"Ooh, who is it?"
"I'm not sure," I admitted, "I never caught their name."
"Maybe we can look around for them today?" Yuri suggested, "I need to head to the bookstore anyway. We could kill two birds with one stone."
"I like this new Yuri; socializing and open for adventure!" Sayori turned to me, "let's do that!"
"I dunno if I have the time... I have homework I need to finish."
"Homework, shmomework-"
"Guys!" Natsuki burst through the door holding a poster, "take a look!"
"What is it?" Asked Yuri.
"It's a poster for the school dance!"
Sayori's face lit up in my direction.
"No."
"Oh come ooon, Monika!"
"Huh? What did I miss?" Asked Natsuki.
"Monika has a crush!" Sayori explained, "and in order to be with said crush, she needs to go with them to the school dance."
"That's not a bad idea."
"I agree," said Yuri.
"But it's a fifty-fifty chance! What if they say no?"
"What if they say yes?"
"To a girl they just met? I don't think so..."
Suddenly, the bell rang, and a rush of students flooded the hallways. We stood in silence, till Sayori spoke.
"Bookstore, anyone?"
Y’all my story is up on AO3! My first story!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29259549
It is a Promised Neverland and MHA crossover. It is centered around the full score trio, but there are some MHA POVs too. There is manga spoilers for TPN. If you are interested please check it out.
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Emma wakes up to a bear-mouse thing looking at her. Her eyes open wide, but before she can panic she realizes Norman and Ray are sleeping next to her. She remembers the promise she made with Him. “You changed fate time and time again. You have suffered greatly. All you must do now is live an interesting life.” At the time Emma had no clue what he meant by interesting, but she was going to find out.
~~~~~~~~~
In other words, Emma wakes up in MHA and goes to school with the other A-1 students while looking for her family and dealing with a god in her head. This takes place right after Eri was saved and after the cattle children went to the human world.
James Wilson x Reader
No Smut
948 words
Please leave any feedback in the comments I live for validation (and critiques)
“Honey are you almost ready?” I hear James’ voice carry up the stairs.
“Uhm… almost!” I yell back as I try to zip my dress yet again, rather unsuccessfully.
I hear James’ footsteps as he makes his way up the stairs. I take a deep breath as he enters our bedroom, his eyes raking over me.
“You…look…breathtaking…” He says with blown pupils as a goofy smile makes its way onto his face.
I blush at the attention, 3 years later and the way James looks at me never fails to make my cheeks red. “Could you help me with my dress, dear?” I ask him sweetly, turning so my back, and the zipper are now facing him.
He walks over to me slowly. His fingers delicately caress the fabric. “Is this dress new?” He asks softly as he clips the top of the zipper. I nod as I suck in, making it a little easier for him to zip the dress. “It’s from House of CB, I picked it up when I was in London for a conference.”
He zips the dress slowly, I feel his eyes following the zipper up my back. My skin heats under his gaze. “It looks amazing on you, and hugs your hips perfectly. God, you’re gorgeous…” He mutters as he places his hands on my hips, turning me to face him. “I cannot wait to take that off of you tonight.” He whispers before moving his lips to my neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses down my throat. I moan softly as he does.
“Who says you’ll be taking it off of me, Dr. Wilson?” I question him teasingly, using his title to drive him a little more mad. He groans against my skin, now sucking gently at my exposed collarbones. “That rock on your hand says it for me…” He mutters cockily as smirk forms on his lips.
He grabs my left hand, making tantalizing eye contact as he delicately brings my fingers to his lips. “3.5 carat, princess cut, near-perfect clarity, all for my perfect girl.” I blush as he describes my ring and compliments me. Marrying a doctor definitely has its perks, but marrying a head of oncology who’s 10 years older than you comes with even more.
“I’m living a dream, do you know that?” I smile as his fingers graze my chin, tilting my head up to meet his curious gaze. “Oh? Why’s that, honey?” He flashes me a knowing smile as his head cocks to the side, teasing further. “Oh, I don’t know. maybe it’s my perfect ring, maybe it’s my perfect life, maybe it’s my perfect husband.” I place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I’m leaning towards the last one.”
James looks at me with possibly the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’ve ever seen. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “You have no idea how much that means to me.” One hand settles on my cheek as the other finds my waist. I wrap my arms delicately around his neck as he leans down to kiss me. His lips find mine with ease, as they have so many times before. He kisses me softly as if my lips are the only thing grounding him.
He pulls away, resting his forehead against my own. “We should get going, don’t want to be late for dinner.” He says with a sigh. I nod as I turn towards the mirror and start to adjust my dress. James steps behind me after a moment, wrapping his arms around my waist. He rests his head on my shoulder with a huff. “How are you so beautiful?” James asks as he gazes lovingly at me, his fingers dancing across the fabric of my dress.
I smile in response as I tease my curls. “I don’t know handsome, how are you so loving?” I tease as I turn to face him. I grab his chin and squish his cheeks. “I need to eat you up. You’re just too cute.” He blushes as a smile creeps onto his face. “What’s a cute girl like you doing with an old guy like me?” I laugh at his futile attempt at distracting me.
“What can I say I’m a sucker for an old man with a cute tie,” I say as I grab his tie and pull him in for a kiss. He groans into the kiss as his hand finds my throat, applying gentle pressure to the sides. I pull away briefly, much to my disdain. “Easy there, I don’t need any hand prints on my neck before dinner.” I joke as I leave a gentle kiss on his nose before walking over to my vanity.
“You’re no fun,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “Maybe I want House and Cuddy to know that you like having my hand wrapped around your throat. That you like when I-”
“James! That’s enough, we need to go.” I say with an eye roll as I stand up from my vanity and grab my clutch, trying desperately to pretend that his words didn’t have me soaked.
I glance in the mirror one last time before I leave. I adjust the strap of my dress when I notice a reddish-purple mark on my collarbone. I groan loudly as I turn to face James, who is sitting on the bed ‘innocently.’ “Did you have to leave a mark on me right before we leave for dinner with your colleagues?” I meet his gaze with daggers. He blushes as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oops…?” He says with a shrug of his shoulders, his big brown eyes melting whatever rush of anger I’d felt.
Too Sweet for a Sarge
Part 1(?)
(Hunter X F!reader)
My first!!
Might be a part 2 (?)
I have been working hard on this one shot or smt and hope you all like it❤️
Heads-up: Fluff, kissing, Hunter is such a dad, matchmaker Omega, helpless Hunter, thinking of you too much 😳, cringe(?), omega being more of an older sister she is to Hunter, might go into she or you, Sorry it’s my first! 😂
Summary:
Omega always noticed how Hunter looks at you, the way his lips would turn up and eyes twinkle a bit whenever you laugh or enter the room. So she decides to take matters into her own hands. 😈
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Song reference: Love me by Fia
It’s always brand new to me
See, the butterflies, my palms get sweaty
My thoughts and my heart stay heavy
You got this Kinda affect on me…
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——————
“Huntah?”
Hunters ears picks up as the little blonde girl Omega comes into the marauder after a visit with you, Omega would always be with you whenever he or the guys were too busy to watch omega as they help around the village of Pabu.
Ever since they came to visit Pabu months ago and during the Tsunami and rebuilding on Pabu Island they had met you.
You had given them a thank you gift of baked goods from your family’s bakery on upper Pabu which was greatly and safely unharmed from the Tsunami disaster, Hunter never thought you would come into his life, or even knew about it, there was something of you that made him think of you more often than a friendly relationship you both had grown. But he didn’t really overthink it that much
Omega would always go to your family’s bakery to make sweets and such, you always welcome her in as you both make a mess in the kitchen or either make a delicious treat to share with others. He once tried a treat yourself and Omega had created when he went to visit.
But whenever you would go visit them and hand him a treat, he would feel his knees numb up when his eyes would trace the outlines and contour of your face… the way the sun hits your eyes and skin making a soft glow over them… your smile… the light tint on your face when he compliments you… you…
You. You. You. You. You. You—
“Hunter?”
He immediately snapped out of his thoughts of you and felt his face flush red as he looked at Omega, he hoped omega won’t question.
“Yeah, kid?”
He asked the small clone girl as he runs his trembling hand over his flustered face, the face of a man being caught in his thoughts.
Omega raised a brow and step fully into the marauder, reading his face and seeing her brother in his state of embarrassment.
“I just came back from hanging around with (Y/n), are you okay? You look red…”
Kriff.
He rubs his face again and sighed before looking at Omega, he knew he was caught and regrets it.
“Nothing to worry about kid, you go wash up for bed, it’s already late don’t you think?”
“But it’s the afternoon—“
“You heard me.”
Omega groans and walks to the small room in the haul of the marauder to pick her clothes up and head up to the small refresher of the ship, making a sarcastic salute before saying.
“Sir yes sir…”
Hunter huffs a soft chuckle though his nose, he couldn’t believe of how long it’s been… Omega had changed and he wished nothing will ever change that.
———
“Come on Hunter!”
He looks around the area, a breeze of wind in his way as he watched Omega run with Wrecker through the beach, Tech and Echo talking about whatever they had in mind, the scent of the ocean filled his senses in is nose…
And a soft hand, smaller compared to his large and rough calloused hand brushing his.
He looked down to see you in a white dress, shoulders bare and feet against the sand, your sandals in your occupied hand as you weaved your hand in his, he squeezed your hand softly and smile down at you.
“Hunter…?”
“Yeah…?”
You look up at him and smile, your mouth opens to say something until he felt a jab on his side.
——
“HUNTER!”
He jolted up and saw that Omega was waking him up, he groaned and rubbed his face with his hand and look at Omega with a moody look.
“What kid…?”
Omega smiles and points at the small plate of treats on one of the built in tables of the marauder.
“She brought us food this morning, you should’ve seen her! She was wearing a pretty floral dress and she had a hibiscus in her hair! She was so pretty!”
His eyes went wide as she said of your visit, he missed a precious moment and you had already gone.
“Why didn’t you wake me? I could’ve said hi or something”
Omega shook her head and picked up a cupcake from the plate with a white and blue frosting covering the vanilla cake under, with a small coat of pearl candies on it.
“I was about to when she came over, she said it was okay and she didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”
Hunter felt his face grow a light shade a pink.
You’re too sweet for me…
As Hunter thought Omega started to notice signs…
Her brother was in love with you.
She smirked after she finished her cupcake before throwing it in the trash, she began to head to the ramp of the marauder but Hunter spoke up.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Omega shrugged her head and adjusted her blue jacket and took a step out before running out. Hunter sighed and shook his head before standing to stretch.
As he stretched his back he spoke.
“What is she up to…”
——————
Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Cult of the Lamb (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Chemach (Cult of the Lamb), Original Cult of the Lamb Character(s), Original Follower Character(s) (Cult of the Lamb) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Mirror Universe, Original Character-centric, My First Work in This Fandom, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Tags Are Hard, Anthropomorphic, Constructive Criticism Welcome Summary:
A young moth boy and his sister set out to try and get an apple from the village leader. Things get complicated however when they come across a strange blue duck.
Just wrote my first Sonadow fanfic! Well, at least the first chapter. It’s an idea I’ve had in my head for a while, and I finally just wrote it out lol. Here’s the summary below if anyone is interested!
Slow burn Sonadow :) Sonic finally convinces Shadow to open up a little more, which ends up going a long way over time. The first chapter is kinda like a long prologue that leads to the beginning of Shadow and Sonic getting closer. Each chapter after will be little one shot-type stories in the same storyline that all lead up to, y’know, relationship and feelings lol. While Sonic and Shadow are young adults in this, there will be no sm*t. If anything there may be some tension, but mostly few and far between. I’m expecting about 4-5 more chapters before the romance really blossoms, but don’t worry, there will be a lot of cute and romantic things building up to that point. Also, final thing. While I try my best to write the characters as accurately as possible, I will be inserting my own head canons ofc. Anyways, hope you enjoy! And feel free to comment tips or suggestions!
Is the title still a work in progress, or are the hedgehogs a work in progress? You decide :)
Sex, Drugs, Etc.
Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. Possible smut in the future. SH. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2022
I got a lot of inspiration and motivation from @whoopsyeahokay series called October Sun if you haven't read it yet I recommend you do its amazing, you can find it on tumblr and Ao3. October Sun
(This is very self indulgent and based on things ive been through and how I could have very easily ended up as a ghost. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness. This is a judgment free zone so I want no bullying or hate on anyone. I'm not the best writer so be nice)
1.9k Words
Enjoy :)
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Two days, two fucking days you’ve been rotting and no ones come to find you. Well no one alive at least.
It started off normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Just another boring school day with the same washed out boring people. Tired eyes and even more tired souls. So what changed? A little slip up on the same thing that had almost claimed your life many times over the years except this time no one was there to save you.
You were 14 when you first learned the only way for your brain to stop spinning, trying to find a new way to obtain peace was with a very simple little thing. Weed, this wasn't what was deadly, no it was what started the cycle. First it was weed, then it was alcohol, then it was late night parties, until one day it fell into the palm of your hand. A simple little pill, how could it cause so much damage? Things were fine until one pill turned into two then two turned into three and then you ended up on the patio of a stranger's porch foaming out the mouth. 4 days in the hospital and 2 weeks in rehab was enough to scare you for a while, but not enough to make you forget about the relief that came with it.
That's how you ended up here, sitting in a circle sharing stories about life and death, a group of highschool boys who had no idea you were even there, playing basketball behind you. Should have just gone to group like you were told to, at least then you would have been with people who understood addiction. Now judgmental eyes fall upon you because you caused your own death. As much as you wanted to find someone, something to blame you knew you couldn't, this was your fault. The spinning hasn't stopped. At least ghosts couldn't go through withdrawal, doesn’t change the fact that the empty feeling you tried so desperately to fill is more presint than ever.
The sweet voice of Mr.Martin fills the room. Like white nose until you heard him call your name. Head shooting up to look up at him. “Have you started working on your obituary?” Ah yes, ghost homework. you would have never thought that you would have been asked to write your own obituary yet here we are. Not as easy as it sounds.
“I’ve got some ideas” Like when you got so drunk you threw up on your friends cat, or when you were so high that your brother convinced you the plane flying over your house was a UFO, fun memories. Apparently you were supposed to write about the good parts of your life but that's kinda hard when the only good memories you had were caused by what put you in this situation to begin with.
“Take your time, if you need to im sure some of the others wouldn't mind telling you about what they wrote, for motivation.” You give a simple nod, wanting all the prying eyes around you to look away. And they do, except a certain pair that had been watching you since you got here.
Wally Clark, a sweet boy, bright future, died to soon like everyone else in this fucked up version of your own personal hell. He asked too many questions, it wasn't a secret how you died, just something you didn't want to talk about. He respected that, like most of the others, most. Doesn't stop him from prying, staring with curious eyes.
“I think that's all for today, don't forget tomorrow's movie night as always our newest member will be picking the movie.” You give an awkward smile before standing up and turning to leave along with the rest of the group. Heavy footsteps creeping up behind you and the sound of your name being called stops you as the tall boy catches up.
“So um do you need help with your obituary? not to brag but I think I did a pretty good job on mine.” Wally was quite attractive, tall, with big brown eyes, and slick back brown fluffy hair. No doubt having made girls fawn over him during his lifetime. You and him weren't exactly friends but the idea of having a little help writing… well, a self obituary wasn't bad.
“Sure, we could go to the library.” An excited grin grew on Wallys face, not expecting you to say yes.
“Yeah, yeah the library sounds great” It was kinda cute how he acted sometimes. Not like a typical jock, a pure golden retriever.
“Cool” You stand there kinda awkwardly, hands in the pockets of your red zip up hoodie as you gave him an expecting look.
“Oh like now?” He was somehow the most confident yet most awkward person in the world. “Um okay yeah that works”
You tilt your head sideways towards the door leading out the gym, indicating for him to follow you out. Taking the lead and making your way out, opening the door for him. “Ladies first” He let out a small chuckle at your attempt at a joke, considering it was the first time you really talked to anyone since everything happened. It wasn't that you didn't like people, you just didn’t understand the point of friends. It might sound depressing but having a small group of people that you know will stick around is better than hanging around people that barely know you. Yet here you are, stuck with strangers for eternity or until you finally move on, however long that’ll take.
The hallway was filled with loud teens, some rushing to their next class others going out the back door, more than likely skipping. “So how does this work?” You look over at him.
“What? The afterlife?” He looks at you, a little nervous. “I don’t think im the best person to explain it to you, that's more of Charley's thing.” Charley was sweet, the first person you met when you woke up. Some sort of after life guide.
“No, a self obituary.” The words felt weird coming out your mouth. “I know I'm supposed to write about all the great things in life but I don't think huffing nitrous in my uncles bathroom on thanksgiving really counts as a good memory.”
“Nitrous? like the shit in whipped cream?” He gave you a sideways look, a concerned but humored smile on his face.
“Yes, the shit in whipped cream, I don't recommend. I passed out and almost had a seizure.” As we reach the library he opens the door, allowing you to go in first.
“Okay, maybe don’t include that in your obituary, how about” He thought for a second. “Write about your friends and family, I'm sure you have some good memories with them.”
You let out a frustrated sigh as you sat down at a table, Wally sitting down across from you as you take off your backpack, pulling a pencil and the folder Mr.Martin had given you. “That's too much work, do you think Mr.Martin would notice if I just copied yours?” Wally laughs a little, his straight white teeth showing.
“No, he’ll totally believe that you played football and lost your virginity in your moms car.” Now you’re the one laughing, his sentence coming out way too casually.
“You lost your virginity in your moms car?” You take a few seconds to process before you look at him judgmentally. “You included how you lost your virginity?” Though the smiles’ still apparent on your face.
“Happy memories, remember?” And there's the jock attitude you were waiting for, somehow a bit surprising but not unexpected. “You could just write your feelings.” You have a whole journal for that from when you got sober… soberish.
“This may come as a shock to you but I'm not exactly a feelings person.” Not totally true, it was just easier to not feel anything at all, especially with the situation you're in right now.
“Really? I couldn't tell” The sarcastic tone in his voice very apparent. “Alright fine, if you were happiest when you were high then it's worth writing.”
“Great, so high stories, got it” Though it wasn't the best idea, you had to write something so Mr.Martin would get off your ass about it. Reminiscing was a slippery slope, you were holding up decently so far but contrary to what all the others think it hurt deep down. “How about the first time I tried molly?” Probably one of the best ‘happy pills’ you tried in your lifetime.
“What was it like?” He clearly had no intentions of finding out first hand, just curious of the experience.
“It made me really aware but like in a good way.” There was no real way to describe it without going into depth. “And kinda trippy I guess, does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He knew he could never truly understand, no one could unless they experienced it themselves. As you begin to jot down the memory Wally peaks over, looking at the page though it's not very useful due to the fact that he doesn't possess the skill to read upside down.
“Nosey” You laugh a little at his attempt to get to know you better. “You know if you want to get to know me, maybe there are better ways to do it then helping me write my own obituary” Yep, still didn't sound right.
“Oh um yeah, this is probably a really weird first hang out.” He laughs awkwardly at the realization that this is still new to you. It wasn't like he had never been around a new ghost before, he knew he was supposed to be slow, supportive, ease them into it but with the way you acted sometimes made him think you were more used to this than he was. In a way you were, death was something that you had imagined so many times so when it actually came the idea of being trapped wasn't one you hadn't thought of before. “How about after we're done with this I could take you down to the pool?”
You smile, the sentiment was sweet. “Thanks, but I don't know how to swim.” You were never taught and it didn't seem important in life so you just never learned. The surprised look on Wallys face was priceless.
“How the hell are you 18 and don’t know how to swim?” It wasn't judgmental, just a little surprised, but the grin on his face indicated that he had an idea.
“Oh god, what are you thinking about?” You knew what was coming, he wouldn't be him if he didn’t jump at the opportunity to help a new friend. Wally was very readable and you didn’t know if that was a good thing yet.
“I could teach you.” And there it was, of course he wanted to teach you. “It could be fun, plus you don't have much else to do.”
“You know what fuck it, you’re right there isnt shit else to do.” Especially with your body still laying cold in the old abandoned locker rooms aka ‘the brain cave’.
“Great, you should keep writing, the faster you get it over with the less weird it feels.” And that's how it started, you were never the friend type but as much as you hated to say it you needed someone. Sure that someone is very attractive and the idea of seeing him in nothing but swim trunks was a nice image but who could blame you? The afterlife is lonely.
Pt.2
Yeosang pouted, ignoring Seongwha when he sat next to him on the bed.``Come on, Yeosang, are you rot going to get ready? We're going to be late, and you know tonight is an important night! You're supposed to…” He doesn't get a chance to finish because they were interrupted by Hongjoong, knocking on Yeonsang's bedroom door.``Are you guys ready to go? Could we have a drink before we head to the party? We are going to need it!” He says as he hands the other two shot glasses and pours them a drink. As they down their shots Seongwha again tries to convince the younger to dress up and wear a mask. "Come on, Yeo! It's just a company party! It won't be that bad!"Mingi chime in. Yeonsang huff; by this point, Seongwha's grown so annoyed. And decides to take matters into his own hands by picking the younger up and carrying him to the limo.``You're going!”So help me, Yeonsang “Songwha chides as he puts the other in the car and gets in
“ Bored” would be how he described his feelings, as he sits at the bar trying to find some distraction to pass the time. As he readjusts his mask, for what seems like the millionth time, he thinks, “Geez, another boring New year's eve party that his parents were throwing!” Disappointed, knowing that besides Yeosang, there would not be anyone here to keep his interest. And he wasn't even sure the other would come?”He thinks as his best slips into the seat next to him.”Find anything or anyone that has caught your attention? You know since you seem so delighted to be here?”He teased as he ordered himself a drink and waited for Wooyoung's response.``You know I can't play this game! I'm supposed to meet Yeosang tonight, and my parents will kill me if I fuck this up.” I'm offended you would think so little of me.``I was going to suggest that you slip behind the bar pretending to be the bartender. When he spotted a man's face that has been in his mind since he had found out about the arranged marriage, however, when the other approaches the bar, Wooyoung smiles and winks as he asks him,” Can I make you drink, your hundredth patron, so your drink is on the house?” He jokes as Yeosang rolls his eyes. Wooyoung could not help but laugh at the brunette sassiness." Sorry, I'm not interested! In whatever game you're trying to play! I'm supposed to meet someone!" He hears the other confess with a slight tone of annoyance. A few minutes later when the brunette looked down and noticed the drink in front of him. Unapologetically, the other says. “Ummm, what is this? I know for a fact that I didn't specify what I wanted to drink? So what is this??” You have So many questions! That I might have the answer to, "Woo says. "While you wait for your date, how about we play a game? For every question that I answer, you have to answer one of mine, okay?" He suggests hoping that the other takes the bait. Thankfully after a few seconds of thinking, “ Okay, but only till my date gets here.” The other buffs as Wooyoung smile. "I'll go first! Now to answer your first question, the drink I made you was called "Love potion!"TIn other words, Yeosang spits out his drink.”I should have known; you would say something stupid! And totally. "He sighed. Without giving the other a chance, surprised when he hears Yeosang fire a question at him "So What is the name of the person you're supposed to meet tonight?"He curiously asked, even though he already knew the answer. " Umm, he's my boss's son, and his name is Wooyoung." The other says Woo noticed the other being hesitant about the information to a stranger. It's funny because Wooyoong knew the answer, yet to hear those words made this whole thing real. Now feeling impulsive, he ran around and took the other hand."Your board: I'm bored. We both know this party is lame, and you seem nervous and uninterested in meeting ”Wooyoung'' so let's go make our party?" He suggests before the other could answer him,m he was in the elevator taking it to the rooftop.
Once they reached the roof, he laid his jacket on the floor,or and he gestured to the other to come over laughing when the other looked annoyed but still joined him. The two of them could hear people counting down the whereas 2 minutes till midnight. " So if we're telling the truth i,'m surprised you came with me! Especially since you're supposed to be meeting some?"He confessed and got nothing but a noncommittal nod leaving them in silence that lasted a few minutes. " 10, 9, 8, 7, 6,5,4,3 2,1! Happy New year, Yeosang!" The words slip from his mouth and quickly kiss him as they get interrupted by someone clearing their throat.” When were you going to tell me who you were?” Yeosang asks, clearly feeling betrayed
And that's when he hears someone behind him.” Excuse me!!We were in the middle of something," Woo says as he looks up and notices it's his best friend.” Don't hi, me? You left and I had to cover for you! It's 9 am and if I don't get you home,you won't have time to change before your dinner date with Kane's "He jokes as he guides him out the door and into his car.
Here y'all go ya lovely people, my first ever fic, this will count as the first chapter of this series that is based off of gt-abby's wonderful idea (tiny-Omega). I hope y'all enjoy! 🐀❤️
Here is the link to her Tumblr- https://www.tumblr.com/gt-abby
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(setting/introduction) It had been about 2 months since the fall of Tantis. In this world, Tech survived the fall and was found during Omega and Crosshairs first escape, said fall had resulted in him losing a leg and needing spinal implants. Now, in their present time, they live on Pabu, their new home dubbed “Marauder #2”. Echo still helps Rex with finding their brothers and rebelling against the Empire, but he makes a point to visit when he can. Wrecker helps around at the docks, Tech has taken up on improving the education of the island, Hunter helps with the town's trades and shipments, and Cross has taken up tsunami/weather watching. During Omega’s time stuck on Tantis, Hemlock took an interest in conducting an experiment, one that Omega hardly even remembers and practically forgets altogether. But, it would have an ever-present effect on her life, she just won’t know till it is too late…. Or is it?
_Chapter 1_
Today was a normal average day on Pabu for their family, or as normal as you can get in a household full of ex-military men. They had decided to settle permanently on Pabu after Tantiss. They knew that they couldn’t take any more chances, too many close calls and near deaths had left a sour taste. Now they were safe and living peacefully. Echo still worked with Rex, but he made as much time as he could to be home. It was nearly mid-day, Hunter was running a few errands with Batcher in tow, and Tech and Cross were working outside on a speeder project. Leaving Wrecker as her current company.
“Ay ‘meg, wanna watch a holo ‘fore I leave?” Wrecker offered in his usual loud manner.
Omega had almost forgotten that Wrecker had an appointment for his back, something about a possible damage from overuse? “Oh, um, yea sure. What do you have in mind?” she responded timidly as she sat up straighter.
—Time Skip—
About halfway through the holo, Wrecker had to leave or else he’d be late. He pulled Omega in for a quick hug, figuratively squeezing the life out of her.
“Be good will ya? Don’t cause trouble while am gone.” He stated as he set her back on the ground, a joking smile creased his face. His hand came up and ruffled her hair.
“No promises Wreck, trouble is my middle name.” Omega giggled, a pointed finger raised as if to make her point.
Wrecker's eyes lit up with mock confusion, playing along with her joke “you have a middle name? Since when?!” He boomed, his face crinkled in amusement.
“I kid, I kid Wreck, I’ll try my best, but no promises. I’ll see you soon Vod.” Omega smiled as Wrecker turned to leave, waving bye as he exited. Omega sat back down on the family couch as she continued to watch the holo.
—Time Skip—
After a bit, Omega reasoned that she should get something to snack on, Hunter wouldn’t be all too happy if she skipped a meal, again. So, she picked herself up and waltzed over to the kitchen. She took stock of what was available and decided on her meal. As she reached into one of the cupboards, nausea bristled in her head, pulling her hand back to smooth out her creased forehead. All too soon, black spots dotted her vision till it took over completely.
More to come soon!❤️
Pairing- Daryl Dixon x GN! Reader
Summary- Quiet memories and flowers
TW- none really, curses once or twice
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The pair looks across the open field, memories flooding back of when they had first met- you, half-dead all on your own, but alive. And Daryl, his crossbow pointed to your head and his eyes guarded as they always were. You both just stood there, tension crackling in the air as one waited for any sublte movement from the other. Your breath had caught when he shot, of course expecting the worst from this strange, roughed-up looking man. A muffled thud and rustle of grass behind you convinced you to breath again, noticing- wow. You weren't dead [somehow]!
It was quiet now, the air stinging with a sharp cold and the rotting smell of walkers that had passed through the area.
Despite the almost dead air, the sight was a needed break from the crumbled buildings and long-forgotten cities and towns you'd see every day. Wildflowers- pops of yellows and hazy blues grew with an enviable freedom, and the sun caught on the tips of the dense grass. The earthy scent in the air was noticable, subtle touches of wild mint and freshly watered grass. As if the world hadn't gone to shit. As if folks weren't dying everyday in horrific ways.
"I thought you were some fallen angel when I first saw 'ya," you tease quietly, the soft hush of wind a soothing whisper for peace, even if fleeting.
"I thought you were alrea'y dead," Daryl responded gruffly, his eyes on the horizon.
You give a soft chuckle. That was fair. Your body was caked in mud and blood- both yours and of walkers. Being all out on your own, focused on the slightest shuffle of feet that could mean life or death, you weren't exactly putting a lot of effort into lookin' pretty.
"Still," You continued, your eyes following the other's to the fading sky. "Why didn't you shoot me then?"
Silence once more draped the pair like a weather-worn blanket. You glanced at him, trying to figure out why he didn't answer. Did he just not hear? Was he ignoring you? Or maybe he just didn't have an answer?
You didn't get a response, as Daryl then began making his way back to the grazing horses you two had arrived on. You blinked, unsure if to be slightly offended or just sum it up to Daryl's odd personality, though followed him anyways. It's not smart to be out at night.
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A/N~ agrhagrgabsg haii! Thank you for reading! This is my first fic, so... wow! I got unneedingly nervous posting this.
I'm not entirely sure if this is just a drabble or the start to a fic, because, to be entirely fair, I am winging all of this [as I'm sure many of us are]. I also was trying to add images, but I couldn't figure out how to make them smaller. Sorry chat 😔. Hopefully more works like these soon, though [and taking less time]!
One shot based on my headcannon that wan visits every avatar when they are born and that his biggest regret is how much they suffer because of what he did.
One Shot:
The sound of a cooing baby fills his ears as he slowly makes his way through the hut. He knows that he is a stranger here and what him being here will do. But he can’t bring himself to leave. Not when this was the only chance he had to meet her.
Quietly making his way to the bassinet in the corner he gazes down at little bundle inside. And just like it had every time before, his heart melts at the sight. She was precious, so small and innocent. He loves her so much. Just as he had loved all of his babies before her.
Gently reaching down he lift her up and cradles her to his chest. His heart melts even more at feeling of her soft, baby skin in his war roughened hands. He never forgets this moment. He will never forget how soft his babies one where or the way they had fit so comfortably in his arms as he held them for the fist(and only) time. He hasn’t forgotten how grouchy his feisty fire ferret Seto looked when he held him, or the adorable way his sweet sky bison yangchen sneezed, nor how strong his cute little cub Kuruk’s grip had been. Just like how he hasn’t forgotten the way his precious panda Kiyoshi cuddled up to him, or the way his darling dragon Roku looked so curiously at him, nor the way his wonderful winged lemur Aang smiled at him.
He remembers every single second holding them. It’s the most precious memories he has and now he can add the way his newest baby tries to grab his hair to those treasured memories. Looking down at her a silent chuckle moves in his chest as he watches her futility try and grab his hair. His proud little polar bear dog pup was going to be a stubborn one, he just knows it.
Carefully he begins to bounce her a little and starts to hum a lullaby. It was an old song lost to time but he had sung it to all of his babies before he… His heart clenches at the reminder of what he came here for. This was the part he hated because he knew that once he did this any chance of a normal, peaceful life was gone for good. That he would be putting a target on her back forever.
Not for the first time he cursed the spirits for making him do this. For making him give his babies a destiny that would lead to them suffering for the rest of their lives. He also curses himself in the process, if only he hadn’t prevented raava from defeating vaatu all those centuries ago. Then he wouldn’t have caused this cursed cycle in the first place. If only he had just a little more time.
A small tug in his mind pulled him out of his thoughts. It was reminder that his time in physical world was short so he must do this now. Tears begin to burn his eyes as he prepares for what he must do, never stoping his bouncing or humming. Mournfully he places his proud little polarbear dog pup back in her bassinet, dreading what comes next. Slowly he leans down and places a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears burning his eyes as he feels raava passing from him to her. As he always does he silently begs raava to be gentle as she transfers to his little one.
Now that the deed had been done he could feel himself start to fade out of the physical world. Knowing he didn’t have much time he gently stroked the infant’s head, not yet wanting to leave. Tears falling on his face as a quiet whisper begins. “Oh little one I swear to you I never wanted this. If I could take back my mistake I would but I can’t. Now you must bare my burden, just as your previous lives had before you. I’m so sorry my proud polarbear pup,” he cries softly gently kissing her head again. “Before I leave I want to know that you are loved so dearly and that you are never alone.”
His eyes glow softly as he disappears. “Remember from this moment on we are one. I wish you the best of luck avatar Korra and I pray that your life will be a good one,” he whispers as he fades away. Leaving only a sleeping babe, unaware of the destiny that now awaits her.
My first one shot. Hope you all enjoy it❤️
Okay, so. I remember having to write a small creative thing for my English class, so I figured why not do it on one of my favorite things, that being Uncle Rick’s (Rick Riordan) camps of trauma.
I also found that on the fan wiki it said an adorable little fact about Leo childhood, probably like my favorite character (tied with Percy, Apollo and Nico of course. I will NEVER be able to decide who I like more) “ He once got in trouble after turning a cross-section kidney and some skeleton legs into a kidney monster and scared the school nurse.”. It also said his named was shortened from Leonidas so, ye.
Now, I couldn’t ignore that. It was to adorable of a concept. so I wrote the write and now I have smol fic. I’ve recently found it again so I decided to post cause yes.
Please note that the characters most likely aren’t well in character, and that this is smol fic with not a lot of writing. It is also in Leo’s POV.
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‘’Yes sir?’’
I don’t understand. All I did was make a cool toy out of the stuff the nurse had in her office. Her reaction to my little monster was pretty funny, everyone else thought it was hilarious. So I don’t understand what I did wrong.
‘’Leonidas Valdez’’
‘’Do you understand why you’re here?’’
‘’No sir, I don’t could you tell me, sir?’’
The principal frowned at me, I must of done something really bad then, but what? Either way, he looks funny. His grey, porcupine-like hair swayed gently in the breeze that was being emitted from the minuscule fan that sat on his desk. I could make a better fan though. I could make a fan that could pinpoint where you are in the room and then rotate to that direction, and on summer days it could spray a cloud of mist in your face to cool you down, and when it’s winter it could convert into a heater to warm you up, and-
‘’Leonidas Valdez! Are you listening?!’’
‘’Uh, y-yes sir! I’m listening!’’
The principals frown contorted into a frightening scowl, damn it, I’m really in for it now. I look down at my feet, mi Madre isn’t going to be impressed. A loud bang sounded out causing me to look up only to have an oddly shaped blurring thing shoved in my face.
When the strange object finally moved away from my face and started to solidify, did I realize what it was. It was my kidney skeleton monster toy!
‘’As I was saying Leonidas’’ he paused to give the scariest of death glares ‘’ you have destroyed valuable school property, turned it into a monstrosity and then used it terrorize a member of the staff!’’
As the words left his mouth I felt anger boil inside me, like a bomb ready to explode if someone cut the wrong wire. How DARE he accuse me of making something ‘monstrous’, how DARE he accuse me of ‘terrorizing’ a staff member! I did NEITHER of those idiotic things, the only thing I did was create one of the most coolest toys to ever exist!
‘’Sir, with all due respect, I did NOT do any of those awful things! I just made use of the resources around me and the toy I made just so happened to give the nurse a little scare! I’ve done nothing wrong!’’
‘’Leonidas sit down in your seat and be silent!’’
What? I hadn’t even realized I was standing up, I should sit so I don’t make him even angrier.
‘’Now, Leonidas, seeing as giving you a multitude of detentions isn’t enough, I’ve decided as punishment you will be given a week-long suspension as well as calling your mother about this issue, which I have already done, and she has asked to speak with me personally’’
‘’W-what?’’
‘’You heard what I said Leonidas, now be quiet’’
I stared down at my feet not believing what he just said, not taking notice of anything that was happening around me, not noticing the door open and close, not the small exchange of words or the chair next to me being filled with a familiar figure.
I only looked up when I felt someone else’s hand sweaty hand grab mine.
Mi Madre’s hand.
This is gonna be a really long afternoon.
. . .
‘’Mijo, look at me please’’
I was sitting on a chair next to one of mi Madre’s newer projects, fiddling with a few pieces of metal and wire. I don’t wanna have this conversation but I’m gonna have to at some point, right? Oh well, here goes nothing.
‘’M-mum look I d-didn’t mean to get in trouble a-and I’m sorry’’
Madre was silent. Why? Why wasn’t she saying anything? Is she that mad at me? I feel tears build up at the corner of my eyes. I. I need to look up…but. I can’t. If I look up I’ll only see a disappointed face, I don’t wanna see that.
‘’Mijo’’
I felt her cup my check in her hand and gently force me to look up at her. Her emotionless face is kinda scary.
‘’Mijo, I’m not mad, I’m proud of you’’ she looked at me with soft and caring eyes ‘’you stood up for something that you made in front of that horrid principle, and for that I’m proud’’
I can’t believe it she’s not mad, not even a little. I felt a smile form on my face.
‘’Now seeing as you have a week-long suspension Mijo, you can help me out in the shop’’
‘’okay’’
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: On your night shift at the mortuary you discover a fresh mutilated corpse that isn’t supposed to be there, prompting the FBI’s arrival.
Content: Dead bodies, like lots of dead bodies (you're a mortician), stalking, murder, dark humour, reader is a little gothic and macabre, first time reader and Spencer meet, Spencer thinks she’s weird at first but his curiosity leads to him finding her endearing, reader is not used to socializing and has questionable coping mechanisms
Author's note: I’ve literally had this idea for months and needed to get it out of my system.
3,038 words
part two
masterlist
The hum of the mortuary’s refrigeration units was usually a comfort, but today, it felt unnervingly loud. The body wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and the one in its place looked like something out of a horror film—freshly dead, blood-soaked, and carved like a grotesque work of art.
You leaned back against the counter as the FBI agents filed in, their presence slicing through the eerie silence. The group was sharp, purposeful, and clearly used to handling chaos. Among them, one man immediately stood out.
He was tall, maybe six-foot-one, with tousled brown hair that looked like it had lost a battle with a comb. His dark blazer was slightly too big for his lean frame, and the way he adjusted his satchel strap every few seconds hinted at his slight nervous energy. But it was his eyes that caught your attention—warm and endlessly curious, darting around the room like they were cataloging every detail. He looked like he’d stepped out of a library and into a crime scene.
“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he said, his voice soft but deliberate as he approached you. His eyes lingered for a moment on your dark hair, the chipped edges of your blood-red nail polish, and the subtle skull pendant hanging around your neck. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he formed some unspoken observation.
“I’m the one who found the body,” you said, crossing your arms. His gaze flicked to your black long-sleeve shirt, noticing the faint wrinkles near the cuffs from where you’d been tugging at them earlier.
Spencer tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were just as much a puzzle as the case itself. “You work here?” he asked, though the answer was obvious.
You raised an eyebrow. “No, I just hang out in mortuaries for fun. Great ambiance.”
His lips twitched, the hint of a smile betraying his otherwise serious demeanor. “Right.” He glanced at the body, his tone growing more professional. “You said you found the body when you came in for your night shift?”
“Yes,” you replied. “This drawer was supposed to have a heart attack victim I was preparing for burial. Middle-aged woman, very boring. When I opened it today, this was waiting for me.” You gestured toward the bloodied body on the table, your voice calm despite the grim subject matter.
Spencer’s eyes followed your gesture, narrowing slightly as he examined the victim. “You’re certain this wasn’t here yesterday?”
“Dead certain,” you said without thinking, then winced. “Sorry. That wasn’t—I cope with dark humor. Occupational hazard, I guess.”
Spencer glanced at you, his expression softening. “I understand. It’s… not uncommon in this line of work.”
You studied him for a moment, noticing how his slight awkwardness seemed at odds with his sharp intelligence. He had an air of vulnerability about him, but there was also something strikingly self-assured in the way he analyzed everything around him. You wondered how someone like him—bright-eyed and endearingly earnest—handled the kind of darkness he must face every day.
“Do you recognize him?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the body.
You shook your head. “No. Never seen him before. And no one else has access to this section of the mortuary after hours. I locked everything up before I left last night. Whoever put him here must’ve known what they were doing to sneak it in.”
Spencer nodded, his gaze flicking between the cuts on the victim’s body. “The precision of these wounds… they were made deliberately. Whoever did this wasn’t in a hurry. They wanted us to notice the details.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” you said dryly, folding your arms. “They’ve got everyone’s attention now.”
Spencer glanced at you again, his expression unreadable but thoughtful. “You seem very calm for someone who just found… this.”
You gave a small shrug, brushing a strand of black hair out of your face. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen something gruesome. Probably won’t be the last.” You hesitated, then added with a wry smile, “Though I’ll admit, finding a surprise corpse is a new one, even for me.”
Spencer studied you for another moment, his head tilting slightly as if he were piecing together something about you. “You said you locked everything last night. Did you notice anything unusual before you left?”
You thought for a moment, absently tapping your nails against the counter. “Nothing out of the ordinary. But then again, ordinary isn’t exactly a guarantee in this job.” You paused, your eyes flicking back to the body. “If someone’s messing with me, they’ve got a pretty sick sense of humor. And that’s saying something, coming from me.”
Spencer didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before he turned back to the body. “This wasn’t a joke. Whoever did this wanted to send a message.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and you found yourself wondering just how deep this case would go. You had always been fascinated by death, but now, for the first time, it felt like death was staring back at you.
After the FBI had concluded their search and cameras were packed away and evidence collected, the usual silence you were used to began seeping back into the cold, sterile atmosphere of the mortuary. The body had been carefully documented and removed, leaving behind the faint antiseptic smell of bleach and cold steel. You stood by the counter, gathering your tools and preparing to get back to work once the team left.
You could feel the day's weight pressing down on you, but you refused to let it show and tried your best to keep your movements steady. You snapped on a fresh pair of gloves and reached for your notebook beside your workstation. The slight tremor in your hands betrayed your calm exterior.
Across the room, Spencer watched you. He stood near the doorway with his satchel slung over one shoulder, fidgeting with the strap as he lingered. He didn’t know why he hesitated to leave—there was something about you that held his attention. Maybe it was the way you handled the situation earlier, calm and composed despite the horrifying scene. In a way it may have seemed suspicious to someone else. Or maybe it was the way your dark humor revealed cracks in your otherwise detached demeanor. Whatever it was, he found himself walking toward you before he could think better of it.
You didn’t notice him at first, focused on arranging your tools in neat rows. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat softly that you looked up, startled.
“Oh,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “Still here?”
Spencer hesitated, not knowing how to handle your straightforward behaviour, his hands awkwardly stuffed into his pockets. “Yeah, um… I just wanted to check in with how you’re coping... After everything earlier?”
Your first instinct usually would have been to shrug the concern off, but the question had caught you off guard. You blinked at him for a second, unsure how to answer. “I—” You paused, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. “Oh I’m great,” you replied, your voice laced with sarcasm. “Finding a bloodied corpse someone snuck into my mortuary? Best day I’ve had in weeks, really.”
You winced at your own words, immediately looking down after saying them. “Sorry. That was—I shouldn’t have said that.” You fumbled for an excuse, your voice tight. “I just… I don’t talk to people much. I guess I don’t know how to… be normal in situations like this.”
Spencer’s expression softened, his voice gentle. “It’s okay. People cope in different ways. And after today, sarcasm seems pretty appropriate.”
You studied him for a moment, your eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. “You’re weirdly nice for someone who spends his days chasing psychopaths.”
The comment seemed to amuse him, though he didn’t quite smile but instead pursed his lips slightly. “And you’re surprisingly calm for someone whose workspace just turned into a crime scene,” he countered lightly.
You almost laughed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Guess we’re both a little weird.”
For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the hum of the refrigeration units filling the space between you. Then Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card.
“If you find anything else,” he said, his voice deliberate but kind, “or if you think of something that might help the case, call us. Here’s my number, just in case.” He held the card out to you, his fingers brushing yours as you took it.
You stared at the card for a moment, surprised by the gesture. It was small, routine, even, but it felt like more than that. You looked up at him, your usual stoicism softening into something almost vulnerable. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice warmer than before.
Spencer smiled, the kind of smile that was barely there but sincere. “Take care,” he said, adjusting his satchel as he turned to leave.
As he walked off, you couldn’t help the slight giddiness bubbling up inside you. It was a new sensation, as you tended to dislike most people, however, there was something about this handsome stranger that had you way more interested than you would've liked to admit.
It had been approximately 2 weeks since your ‘corpse surprise’, and work at the mortuary carried on as usual. There had been no leads or updates from the FBI regarding the mysterious body. No one had come forward to claim it, and any investigative efforts seemed to have hit a dead end. The unsettling memory lingered in the back of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to focus on work. The thought of someone managing to sneak a corpse into the mortuary without being caught still made your skin crawl.
You had just finished up with the cremation retort, the faint heat from the machine still lingering in the room, and had begun sweeping and cleaning up the crematory floor. The rhythmic swish of the broom against the tiles filled the quiet, accompanied only by the faint hum of the ventilation system.
As you moved toward the far corner, you noticed something out of place—a faint scuff mark on the otherwise spotless floor near the entrance. You frowned, leaning closer. It looked fresh, like someone had dragged something heavy through the room. A casket, maybe? No, you’d been the only one in here all morning, and the retort was prepped before your shift.
Brushing it off as nothing, you returned to sweeping, but a prickling sensation ran up the back of your neck. The kind of feeling you got when someone was watching you. You stopped mid-sweep and glanced over your shoulder, scanning the empty room. Nothing but sterile counters and a row of sealed urns waiting for pickup.
The ventilation hum seemed louder now, almost deafening in the otherwise silent space. Shaking your head, you muttered, “Get a grip,” and went back to cleaning.
Then came the noise.
A faint shuffle, just beyond the doorway that led to the preparation room. Your hand tightened on the broom handle, your heart thudding against your ribs. It wasn’t uncommon for sounds to echo strangely in the building—pipes groaning or metal trays shifting on counters—but this sounded different. Like a footstep.
“Hello?” you called out, your voice echoing back to you. No response.
Setting the broom aside, you stepped cautiously toward the preparation room, your shoes squeaking faintly against the tiles. As you approached, the air seemed colder, though you couldn’t tell if it was the room or just your nerves.
The door to the preparation room was slightly ajar, just enough for a sliver of shadow to spill into the hallway. You could’ve sworn you’d closed it earlier. Pushing the door open slowly, you peered inside. Everything seemed normal—the stainless steel countertops, the neatly arranged tools, the faint smell of disinfectant in the air.
And yet, the feeling of being watched persisted.
You turned to leave, but your eyes caught on something—a small object sitting on one of the prep tables. It hadn’t been there before. Approaching cautiously, you realized it was a photograph.
A photo of you.
It was grainy, taken from a distance, but unmistakable. You were outside the mortuary, standing by your car, looking down at your phone. Your throat tightened as you stared at it, your pulse roaring in your ears.
A faint creak sounded behind you, and you spun around, your breath catching. The door you’d left ajar was now fully closed.
Your hands trembled as you stared at the now-closed door. Despite every instinct in you screaming to leave, to run, you couldn't move. It was as if your entire body had been drenched in ice water and no longer wanted to respond.
When you had finally regained control of your movements you reached for your phone and fumbled through your bag without thinking. Your fingers brushed against the business card Spencer Reid had given you after your first meeting, his handwriting neat and precise on the back: Call if anything comes up.
You hesitated. Would he think you were overreacting? Maybe. But the photograph on the prep table stared back at you, a tangible reminder that this wasn’t just paranoia. You tapped the number on your phone and pressed it to your ear, your breath shallow as it rang.
After what felt like years, you finally heard Spencer's familiar voice on the other end, calm and professional, "Dr. Reid."
“Hi, uh, it’s… it’s me,” you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the prep table for support but still refusing to take your eyes off of the door. “From the mortuary? The weird body situation a couple weeks ago?”
“I remember,” Spencer replied, his tone softening. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not exactly,” you replied, but your voice cracked slightly on the last word, betraying your attempt to keep your composure. “I mean, nothing urgent, I don't think. I just… thought I should mention something odd that happened. Probably nothing.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “You don’t sound fine,” Spencer said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. “What’s going on?”
You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table to ground yourself. “It’s just… someone left a photo of me in the preparation room. Like, an actual printed photograph. I’m not sure how it got there.”
Spencer’s end of the line went silent for a beat, then: “A photograph of you? Where was it taken?”
“Outside the mortuary. By my car, I think. It’s grainy, but it’s definitely me.” You tried to laugh, but it came out weak. “I know it’s probably just someone messing around. But um..." You paused for a moment, wondering whether you should tell him about the odd noises from before and risk sounding paranoid.
“The photo wasn’t the only thing. I thought I heard footsteps earlier, and there was a mark on the floor like something was dragged through the crematory. I… I don’t know, I was sure it was clean this morning when I came in for work, but maybe I’m just spooking myself.”
“You’re not spooking yourself,” Spencer interrupted, his tone more insistent now. “This is serious. Are you still in the mortuary?”
“Yes,” you admitted, glancing toward the door as if expecting it to move again.
“Okay, listen to me,” Spencer said, his voice steadying you. “I need you to leave the building. Lock it up if you can, but get somewhere safe. I’ll notify the team and come to check things out.”
Your chest tightened, a mix of relief and apprehension at his words. “You really think it’s that serious?”
“I don’t take chances with things like this,” Spencer replied. “Neither should you.”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and pushed yourself off the table. “Okay... Okay, I’ll leave now.”
As you ended the call and pocketed your phone, your eyes darted around the room one last time. The photograph still lay on the table, a grim reminder that whoever had taken it might still be nearby.
You moved quickly now, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Grabbing your bag and coat, you threw them over your shoulder and cast one last glance around the dim room. The photograph still lay on the prep table, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pick it up. Your fingers trembled too much anyway. You just needed to get out.
Sliding your phone into your pocket, you tightened your grip on your keys and made your way to the door. Your footsteps echoed in the stillness, each sound magnified in the empty mortuary. Every shadow in the room seemed alive, every creak of the floorboards sending a shiver down your spine.
“Just get out, just get out,” you muttered under your breath, your voice barely above a whisper.
You reached the door, exhaling shakily as you reached for the lock. But just as your hand brushed the handle, a cold, sharp sensation pressed against your throat, freezing you in place.
“Don’t move,” a low, raspy voice growled behind you, the words sending a bolt of terror down your spine.
Your breath hitched, your mind racing as you registered the unmistakable feel of a blade pressing against your skin. You didn’t dare turn your head, every muscle in your body locked in place once more.
“You scream, and you’re dead,” the voice continued, so close you could feel the warmth of their breath against your ear.
Your keys slipped from your hand, clattering loudly to the floor. The sound echoed in the silence, a cruel reminder of just how alone you were.
“Good,” the voice murmured, the knife pressing ever so slightly harder against your neck. “Now be a good girl and do exactly as I say.”
Your pulse roared in your ears as panic clawed its way up your throat. You had no choice but to comply.
And that was when the lights in the mortuary flickered and went out, plunging you both into darkness.
First fic! Jason x Salim. Not beta read, sorry for any mistakes <3 Basically, the events of House Of Ashes didn't exist, Different meeting ☺️. The Marines go to a pub after being deployed in the UK and all decide to play some children's games. Read here on Ao3 if that's what you prefer. "Truth or dare?" His best friend, Nick had asked him in turn. They'd all had a long day settling into their new temporary base, and the Marines decided to head into the city and find a bar. What better way to blow off the days steam than a tipsy game of truth or dare? The pub was small and simple. Country style wooden interior and decor, potted greenery around some of the walls and jarred fairy lights along the ceiling, offering a warm yellow glow. It wasn't too late in the night, and the place wasn't too packed but still held a good amount of occupants for the hour. "Truth." Jason answers, taking another small sip of his beer. "Aw, come on, you've said truth 3 times in a row! Quit bein' a pussy!" Merwin piped up from the end of the table farthest from him, his usual damn cocky smile plastered on his face."Alright, fine! Dare, then." The Lieutenant throws up his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes at Merwin's remark. Nick looks around, thinking for a moment before replying, "Dare you to go talk to that guy over there." And nods towards a man leaning over one of the tables against the window.
There was a bit of distance between them but Jason could make him out pretty well despite that. He had warm olive skin and pitch black hair, laid back from his forehead, aside from a few loose curls that didn't want to follow the flow of the rest of his hair. Dark eyes that seemed down cast, lost in thought in thought. He was adorned in a dark green button up shirt and well fitting khaki pants.
Fuck, he was hot brooding against the wall like that.
"I'll even buy your drinks the rest of the year if you can get his number." Nick adds with a wink.
Who was he to turn down a challenge?
"Alright, deal." Jason steps back from the table. "But don't act like I don't know what you're up to." He accused, pointing playfully at his friend who only held up his hands innocently. He turns on his heel, making his way over to the other man, feeling the looks of everyone behind him go straight into his back.
The Marine was unsure if this was another one if Nicks attempts to matchmake again or just Nick pushing him out of his comfort zone, although he was definitely leaning towards the former. Either way, he had to admit that the lonesome man was rather attractive. Worth a shot, right?
"Could I buy you a drink?" Jason offered as he approached, resting a hand on table and leaning on his hip against the edge of it.
"I don't drink." The man replied cooly, not looking up at the lieutenant. He had a thick accent that Jason couldn't quite place, but it wasn't like any of the English accents he'd been hearing.
The brunette faltered for a moment. He hadn't heard that response before. "That's definitely a new way to be rejected." He half joked.
"I am Muslim." He finally looked up at the younger man. Despite the deadpan tone in his voice, he didn't appear to be upset or bothered by his offer.
Jason mentally slaps himself. Right. Idiot.
"Shit, sorry, I- I wasn't trying to..." He trails off awkwardly, waving a hand around uselessly. All his previous confidence had now appeared to be gone from his body.
"It's alright. It happens quite often, Considering this is a pub." The man cuts him off gently, entertaining him with an amused smile.
The man was pretty, Salim observed. Warm brown irises, light freckles dusted across his pale skin that now looked stained pink from embarrassment, and short cropped dark brown hair.
Salim remembers seeing the group of men come in, all dressed similarly to the man; a fitted black t-shirt that hugged his torso and arms nicely, as well as tan fatigue pants and combat boots, the laces tied up haphazardly.
"Name's Jason." The Marine speaks after a moment, feeling the other mans gaze burning into him.
"Salim. So, military man I see?" He notices the tattoo on his forearm, taking note of the other one peaking out from being hidden under the sleeve on his right arm.
"Yes, sir. USMC. First Lieutenant." The American states proudly.
Jason opts to sit down on the stool beside him, body facing the other man with one elbow on the table and the other on his own thigh. "So, whatta you doin' at a bar if you don't drink?" He asks, tilting his head to the side a bit, resting it on his palm.
"I do not know." Salim states honestly. Simple as that. "My wife left us 3 weeks before we moved here, for my son to go to university. I think, maybe, I come here intending to drink but never can commit. But it doesn't matter, I am here to not think about that." He shuffles his body towards Jason. "Tell me about yourself?"
"Well, what do you want to know?" The latter asks, straightening up a bit.
"Whatever you'd like to tell me. Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?" Salim proposed.
Jason shrugs, thinking on it for a moment. "No, not really. Jus' my sister, I 'spose. Dad's just a mean drunk, Mama passed not long before I joined the military." He explains, shifting his gaze elsewhere. "No other family, really."
"No girlfriend, then?" The Iraqi questions aloud before he can think about it, immediately regretting the decision.
However, if the other man was off put by the question he didn't show it. Although his eyebrows raised slightly, surprised. Keep cool, Kolchek. "Na, don't really have any time to go after that anymore. Sometimes mess around with the guys on base, but nothin' official." He shrugs.
Guys?
"You make it sound like a challenge, I'm surprised. You're rather attractive." Salim says with a knowing smile, resting his cheek on his knuckles. He'd already been pushing a little too far and the Marine didn't seen bothered, why not push a little bit more?
Jason's face flushes lightly, caught off guard by the comment. "You're not so bad yourself." He finally replies, looking back up at the other man, giving him a lopsided smile.
"What about your son? You said he's here for university, right?" The brunette moves the topic along, not letting his mind think on the man's words.
"Yes! My boy, Zain. He's earned a scholarship to University. Studying folklore and mythology. He's made me very proud." Salim smiles fondly at the thought of him, gaze sweeping the floor in thought.
"I can tell his mother leaving on him has made him upset, but he seems a little happier now, studying what he enjoys." He brings his eyes back up to the American, and Jason just melts at the pure joy his eyes are full of.
The men talk for a bit, going back and forth with questions, and trading their own stories. Salim shares some stories from Iraq while Jason shares some about his travels while in the Marines, Finding comfort in each other's presence, Jason allows himself to open up and share some other things he hadn't even come clean about with the people he's close to. Salim shares more about him and his son moving to the UK, and ex-wife and her leaving them both suddenly in Iraq.
"What made you join the military?" Salim finally asks in turn.
Jason thinks on it for a few moments. He'd had been expecting the question sooner or later, but it was a somewhat touchy subject for him. Fuck, the other man had been so open about his life since the get-go, So why shouldn't he? He had nothing to hide, anyway.
Right?
"You really wanna know about that, huh?" He shifts on the stool. Let him understand. "My life wasn't goin' nowhere fast." He starts after a pause. "From a small town in Georgia, kids killing each other for a fuckin' nickel. Rich getting richer and the poor gettin' poorer. I jumped at the chance to sign up, to get away from it all." He answered honestly.
"And I guess I honestly couldn't care less if I got shot dead in the midst of all of it. At least I'd've died for something more worth it." The Marine just shrugs limply, trying to put on an unbothered facade. But it did bother him. He hadn't even explained it to Nick, his best friend, honestly. Just some patriotic bullshit reason.
Why was it so easy to be so open with this stranger?
Salim leans forward and places a hand on Jasons knee in an attempt to ease him. "Well, I'm glad you haven't. I quite enjoy talking to you." He pats his knee gently.
Jason just gives a small smile
"I've enjoyed talking to you too, however these seats are getting rather uncomfortable." Jason chuckles and shifts his hips. Salim moves his hand away and Jason misses the warm touch immediately. Wait, why?
"You know, we can always take a bit of a walk." Salim offers, "Get some fresh air? Unless of course, you'd like to get back to your friends," The older man leans back away from Jason, giving him a teasing smile and a small shrug of the shoulders.
"I think I like that idea. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to get rid of me for a bit longer." Jason gives a crooked smile.
"Let me just tell them." The lieutenant stands up and offers the man his arm, Salim holds onto his bicep and nods in acknowledgment.
"Well damn, Kolchek, I guess you earned those free drinks, huh?" Joey comments before Jason can speak, being the first one to notice them walking towards the group, as he turned around halfway to look at the pair of them.
"What does that mean?" Salim asks, turning his gaze from Jason to the younger man in front of them.
"Nick over there dared him to get your number. Seems he went above and beyond." Joey eyed their linked arms and Jason just gave him a look warning him to be quiet now.
"Is that why you came up to me?" He raises his eyebrows in uncertainty, looking back over at Jason as a flash of dejection written across his face.
"Well, yes but I-"
Salim cuts him off.
"I'm sorry, Jason, I think I'll just leave for the night. It was nice talking to you." He releases his hand from the others upper arm, turning on his heel towards the door.
"Fuck- Salim! Wait!" The lieutenant glares daggers at Joey, who just gives a nervous apologetic smile, before he turns to chase the older man outside, ignoring the burning looks from the rest of his friends going straight to his spine.
"Salim!" Jason catches up to the older man quickly, as he didn't make it to far in the short amount of time. He catches his forearm and Salim stops, but doesn't turn around to face the other man. "Please, wait."
"Let go of me." Salim entreated, but still made no attempt to get free, face cast downwards.
"I'm sorry. Jus' don't run off!" Jason releases his arm, hand still hovering in case Salim wanted to try to bolt off again.
"And let me explain." Salim stays put and turns to face him after a pause, but refuses to look up at meet his eye.
"Listen, Jason, You could have just asked. You didn't have to act interested to prove a point to your friend." He sighs, shaking his head before continuing,
"You just wanted to get some drinks. I get it, my friend, truely." He finally looks up, giving a sad but genuine smile. And Jason just gawked silently. Did the older man really think he was just using him for his own benefit?
"I enjoyed talking to you, Jason, Thank you." Salim continues when the American didn't respond, and starts to move away again, but the Marine takes both of the others hands in his own, grounding him in place.
"Shit- Salim, Will you stop talkin' like we ain't ever gonna see each other again?" He exasperated
"Yes, that was why I bothered talkin' to you in the first place." Jason drops his hands to move up and hold either side of the Iraqis face.
"But I really enjoyed our conversations. I wasn't about to leave my friends to go with you just for some damn drinks or to prove a point!" He hisses through his teeth without any real venom. "I wanted to talk to you more."
Salim just stares, shifting his gaze from Jason to the ground. He stays silent for a few moments, thinking over the Americans words. "I hear you thinkin' in there." The brunette runs his thumb along his temple.
"I'm sorry." He reaches up and grabs onto Jason's wrists, just holding on and keeping the man's hands where they were. "I just-"
"I understand. No biggie." Jason cuts him off, just giving him a crooked, closed lip smile. Why was he so forgiving?
"I overreacted." The older man states obviously.
"You were just scared. I get it." The Lieutenant interjects and Salim just sighs, but this time it's more fond. " You're not going to let me win this, are you?" He looks down at the man holding him in place. "Nope." The latter pops the 'p', goofy grin still plastered on his face.
Salim just shakes his head affectionately, moving his hands to link them around the others back while he moves his arms to rest on Salim's shoulders.
"Are you sure about this?" Jason asks after a few moments as the other man pulls him closer with the arms now looped behind his back.
"About what?" The Iraqi looks back down at him, tilting his head a bit to the side.
Jason gives his shoulders a small shrug. "Whatever this could be. I know you jus'..." He trails off.
Salim thinks on it for a moment. "Yes." He decides. "As long as you are as well."
The Marine smiles at this. "Yeah. Whatever pace you need." His eyes soften a bit. "I appreciate that." He starts to move his arms away, but Jason's next question catches him off guard and he stays right where he is.
"Can I at least kiss you?"
Salim bows his head, smiling, and shook his head. Not in rejection but in acknowledgment of this man's bluntness. "Only since you asked." He teased, looking back up and reached a hand up to cup Jason's jaw, turning his head slightly and pulling him closer with the other hand still on his back.
Salim leans down and presses his lips against Jason's pouty ones, the kiss soft and sweet. The American lifts his hands up to cup the other mans face gently, stroking his cheekbone with his thumbs, while Salim keeps one pressed on Jasons back to hold him close and the other holding underneath his jaw. The kiss was languid and gentle, both afraid to move too fast for the other.
"I'd've thought it would take more than that." Jason pulled away just enough after a few moments, and just smiled against the others lips. The man who just gives a small chuckle and pulls away, resting his head on the brunettes shoulder. "Ahmaq." He mutters into the junction where his neck and shoulder meet. "What's that mean? Some kinda pet name or somethin'?" Jason quips, moving his arms to rest on either of Salim's shoulders, hands locking behind his neck.
"I believe it translates to 'idiot'." Salim pulls his head back to look down at the other man, his eyes full of mischief.
"Oh." He just says dumbly.
The Iraqi just laughs tenderly, pressing another light kiss to the man's lips, simple and quick. "Still up for that walk?" Salim asks as he straightens up, the hand resting on his shoulder returning to the small of Jason's back. "Yeah, why not?" The latter responds with a smile.
"Are you going to tell your friends, or-?" Salim asks, releasing the other man. The lieutenant glances back in the direction of the pub, thinking on it for a second before ultimately deciding against it and looks back up at Salim. "Na, I guess I'll just let them place bets on what they think happened." He smiles playfully.
Salim just shakes his head fondly, grabbing Jason's hand and pulls him along to walk with him, which he gladly complies.
Jason looks down at their joined hands as they walk, and he enjoys the warmth of the other mans hand enveloping his own. It felt nice.
It felt right.
"For whatever poor soul is coming next"
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader
3k words
Tags!: No use of y/n, fluff, down bad Johnny MacTavish, not completely canon accurate Soap, first fic! 😎👍
A/N: This is based on Hozier's song Jackie and Wilson - I'm thinking I want this to be the beginning of a collection of one-shots based on his songs, depending on my free time! But again, first fic so please any comments would be greatly appreciated! Was nervous to post but ya only live once Hope you enjoy!
The cushion on the back of the booth wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. The deep red bump didn’t do much to help an aching back, more of a thing that somewhat fixed the posture of those who sat at it. But who goes to a bar for comfort anyway? Dingy bars aren’t the first place most people would think to go back to after nearly dying halfway across the world.
The sticky floors, the mesh of posters and old mementos hanging on the brick walls. The neon lights, the potent smell- its headache inducing and you don't even have a hangover yet. And there are too many people in here, crowding pool tables and the small dance floor, (if you can even call it that), to be called someplace one would go to calm down and relax.
This is a fact that is true for most people.
But most people aren’t military. Even fewer are SAS.
And absolutely none are John MacTavish.
The man who idolizes the chaotic ways of the world above all else. That’s what has him still in the job quite frankly. The chaos, the ability to live and thrive in an insane environment. For someone like him, these things never truly bothered him. In an odd sense, the smell of alcohol, sweat and far too many bad ideas feel closer to home than he’s been in a few months. A comfort that most don't understand. But he does.
So even as exhaustion tries to take hold, the scott wears a signature giddy smile, adds a seemingly impossible pep to his step, and he drags the 141 into a back table, somehow always energetic. Even after practically wasting away in a desert for the past 3 months, he has energy. It’s honestly absurd.
Even worse is that he always finds a way for that energy to become contagious. As much as his teammates joke and grumble about it, Johnny was their way of restoration, to push forward. He would choose a shitty bar, and even shittier alcohol over a quiet apartment or the pile of paperwork that had to get done at some point. And so, the boys would too. Even if they hid it behind the facade of “babysitting” the grown man.
So now, here they sat, against the trashy cushions, with crappy music, in the dimly lit bar, with smiles and a sense of belonging. They call it a “celebration” of a mission well done, a nod to their success. Definitely not an excuse to just drink the night away, to get the mission out of their heads for a bit. To laugh with comrades and just be… domestic? Is that right? Close enough.. Yeah? Finding their small slot back into normal society.
Don’t get him wrong, Johnny loves his job. Loves what he does, but who doesn’t want to just have a drink at a bar with his mates every once and a while? And that's why he has his third beer in his hand and is snorting and a story Gaz is telling about one of his most recent hookups. A lady who was.. “Bloody crazy! I mean it. Seemed nice at first but don't be fooled, she was insane!”
Yeah, this is home. It’s where he belongs, where he wants to belong, he thinks. With his men, in the middle of nowhere chatting about anything and everything. Confiding in and teasing each other. He trusts them with his life, he can trust them to listen when need be. And yet… there is always that ache. The strange pull in moments like these like something is still missing. It’s been happening more often lately. And it's like an itch Johnny can't scratch. A puzzle piece he can't find but is still absent mindedly searching for. The only issue is he doesn't know what it is, that it just- isn't.
The chatter fades to a muffled sound in the scotts ears for a moment as he lets out a small, genuine smile looking at his group, sipping at the drink in his hand as his forearms lay themselves on the table, hands clasping. Taking a moment to truly thank whatever may be pulling the strings. Bringing him and his boys to safety. And maybe even a small prayer to tell him what the odd nagging in his brain is about. He takes a breath and relaxes, just for a moment. Looking around the bar, truly just admiring the world around him, the bustle of it all, the people with their own lives and ambitions.
How was he supposed to know that was a fatal mistake on his part?
He couldn’t. He didn’t.
He found out a second to late, registered it after he knew he was done for. It was one moment, a mistake, a pause, that would stick with him for as long as it dared. It was a magnet, an invisible force that pulled his very being toward it. The moment he nearly drooled his drink out from his now slack jaw.
Because when his eyes connect with the woman walking through the door, he swears time stopped.
Suddenly, the crappy bar didn’t smell as bad, the music wasn’t too loud, the cushion no longer made his back ache, the room got brighter just from her smile. The very ground shifted, and not in the drunken haze way. He warmed up, eyes wide. A thought process that if he opened them more he would see more. God, it felt like getting a cavity by now, she felt too sweet to even look at.
In a single moment the world shattered around him, everything he knew was thrown out a window, as his mind was occupied by one thought only.
It was only a moment… but by then he knew he was fucked, utterly and completely.
Fate or destiny, call it what you may. An answered prayer, an utter coincidence. It didn’t matter. The bar turned into a museum, a place to observe and admire as his eyes widened impossibly more as his head tilted watching her move. A giggle slipped under his breath as he thought he could be mistaken for Ghost at this point, with his starring.
But your pull, it was undeniable. Even the thought of looking away would cause you to vanish in a blink, never for Johnny to see again. And he couldn’t have that. Not when it was astonishing in the way you simply were.
It only got worse as your group got closer to theirs. A mere table away. When you first walked in it was a trap, a line that was cast into his pond and he was falling for the bait. Confidence is something he is used to in his line of work, but it was usually the cocky kind. The kind that made him want to kick a recruits teeth in for. But you were something different entirely. You demand attention, even if you didn't know it. A high held head, a testament to the world that you were there, and you were aware of it. Thank god it was his attention it demanded, because it was nothing short of a miracle.
The air you lived in became breathable, spreading to his little corner of the bar as he had to remind himself to actually inhale and exhale as he took in the sight over and over again. Committing it to memory. The world became a movie, a fictional place where he wasn’t. One he could only watch and revel in. It was the type that you knew was going to be good before it even began. The one you had been anticipating for and knew wouldn’t disappoint. His heart rate picked up, the same way it would in the field, but in a much less stressful manner now. Jesus, what was happening to him? You must have cursed him. That’s it. The only explanation. Bewitched by not only the view, but the melody of your laugh flooding his ears now at the closer proximity. Leaning against a standing table with a glass in hand, head slightly tilted enough that a stray hair fell to cover your face.
It was comical the way his heart sped up, watching as you chatted with your own group. Something so normal, something you see every single day, was making the big strong man’s hard race like it life or death. And he knew life or death.
Romeo had nothing on him.
Absolutely nothing in the way his brain knew he was to be yours. It had to be, he had to be. It’s how the story will be written, and he will play his role. Stealing your hear that way you have entranced his own. He wouldn’t be able to tell you when he got up. He can’t tell you how his body moved on its own, knowing what needed to be done but not conscious enough to alert his brain.
What he can tell about how perfect it felt to so much as stand there by you. Soaking in your presence was one thing, standing in it next to you was another entirely.
And that's how he found himself face to face with you, who turned to him with a puzzled look, but a kind smile.
He was a goner.
“Oh… umm- Hello, can I help you?” Is all you had to say to him to confirm his every thought. This woman could heal every wound with her voice alone. And her eyes so much as finally looking back at him felt like he was seen for the first time in his life.
“Uhh.. sir? Are you alright?” Your voice rang out again, pulling him back to reality as you hand waved in front of his face slightly. A flattering smile on our lips and your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost concerned. What came over John MacTavish in that moment is unexplainable.
“I seem to have lost my number—can I have yours?”
Her eyebrows raised. She blinks. Then tilting her head slightly.
He could die right then and there.
Leaning against the table next to her with a stupid, crooked smile and a raised eyebrow, as if he didn't just embarrassed the hell out of himself. A pick up line? That's the best you could do, John? Really? Welp, there goes every chance you had, cut your losses and- Laughter chimed in his ears like wedding bells. And that’s when he froze, every negative thought draining him as he became light. You laugh was intoxicating more than any drink or drug. The kind that was unapologetic and genuine. The kind that has the back of your palm finding your lips as you cover your giggles, nose scrunching and eyes squinting due to the smile. One that made both of you have pink cheeks for different reasons. A joke that probably shouldn't have been laughed at, but coming from the man before you, it eased the tension in the air.
It must have been the prettiest sight Johnny had ever seen.
He doesn’t know how he did it, probably because it wasn’t him at all. Must have been pure luck that after that horrible entrance she seemed kind enough to humor him that night. He bought you a drink and hung on every word you so much as muttered in his direction. You laughed at every joke, good or bad. He made it his mission to make sure he always heard that laugh from then on. To produce it from you.
Oddly enough, it turns out you were one of few words when it came to the actual conversation. And yet it was never rude, ore quiter nature. But more like you were always listening. Every word John rambled on about you picked up, asking questions or simply nodding, expressing your thoughts in your facal expression. Because of this, it seemed like he never looked away from you either, not that it was a bother, it was strangely alright. It wasn’t judgemental, only observant.
He thought he might go buy a ticket for the lottery after you agreed to give him your number by the end of the night. He was more smitten than he’s ever been, and on the dates to follow the swooning only got worse.
Every moment with you felt exhilarating, like he found that missing piece finally after a long search. And that piece loved him back He was insufferable, always gushing about the woman he has the opportunity to take out on a date. And the dates where nothing less of spectacular. The pair was stupid like teenagers in love, but more sentimental, understanding the weight of things better. Arguments never lasted long and if they did they were cleared up before any damage was done. She understood what his job ment to him, and told him she would never make him change that about himself. It was his passion, she can share.
“Just so long as you promise to come back to me.”
And from that day forth he would make a pinky promise every time he left. He was to come home. Time passed quickly, in flashes. It felt like his life went from downtime in between missions, to missions in between downtime. His heart ached for you in the days he was gone, but he always knew he would be home. He would see you again. He found a want to live, even more now that he found his world.
And as time passed them by, he found out she was perfect in the all the ways he could dream of. Especially in the impossible task of calming him down as well. Rough mission? She already had his favorite meal ready and was soothing him over. Nightmares? She was there either on the phone or more recently next to him to hold him and run her fingers through his hair. To much energy? To rowdy? You always found a way to settle him down. His anchor. And he would do the same for her if the day presented itself.
Another plus that made it all that much more, everyone liked you.It wasn’t hard too of course, but it proved even moreso how lucky he got. His family adored you, his sisters taking you in as part of the family already, much quicker than any of his other past relationships. It made him well up with pride.
Even when he officially introduced you to the 141, it was with open arms as well. If he wasnt a unit before, he absolutely was one now. Maybe just a tad bit more annoying with his bragging but of course he brags. Those boys knew how much you were doing for him, and you knew they were keeping him safe. It was a harmony that both sides respected.
A part of him knew that even if all of those people didn’t like her, (an impossible feat if he does say so himself), nothing would change for him. You were his, he was yours. Irrevocably and absolutely. If the world didn’t want them, the world wasn’t for them. Simple as that. Life became sweeter, dreamlike as he fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was almost unbelievable, no, it was unbelievable.
One day, as he was laying on the couch, laying gently on you, nearly dozing off. Then he felt your hand on his shoulder, a soft pat that made him stir but not move as he hummed in response. “Johnny?” You said, soft enough that he had to stir slightly closer to your voice. But he didn’t look up, kept his heavy eyes shut as he mumbles a small “what?”
“Earth to Johnny..” Hmm, that's odd. It mde him sit up the slightest bit more. Must have been laying on his ear wrong, your voice sounded weird. And another pat on his shoulder, a bit harder this time.
“MacTavish!”
And then he blinked. He was sitting up straight, eyes wide as he made eye contact with his Captain across from him, in the same place he left him at the bar. The bar? His cheek stung from the movement of no longer resting on… his palm? His? No that’s not right. His head hurt slightly as the smell of bar flooded his nose. What was he doing in a-
“Soap, you alright? You were out for a bit. Staren’ at nothing.” Gaz said with a smile, slightly concerned.
He looked around, baffled as he took in the same dingy bar he had met you in. In fact in the same spot exactly, same clothes, same drink. Hold on, that can't be right. His head swung back around as he took in the table next to them was, empty. Bottles and cups discarded to the side, napkins crumpled. He heard the bar door shut as his eyes flicked over and spotted the same woman walk away outside, smiling the same as she was before. Only then did it make sense.
His mind filled in the blanks for him as he rubbed his face with a groan. When something is too good to be true, it's probably because it is. Gaz was patting his back as Ghost and Price shared a look that had Price hiding a smirk. But it didn’t matter to Johnny.
What mattered was she’d already left.
The boys decided that's where the night should end, Johnny's head almost embarrassingly hung low as they paid their bill and called a car to take them back to base. This is the first time Scott has sulked in a while, running his hands through his mohawk as he kicked himself for being so stupid. Caught up in a daydream of a random woman at the bar, what a stupid fantasy to get caught in. he was practically mourning something he doesn't even have, never did have. And now something he wouldn’t have either.
The moment changed his life for sure, a memory of fake memories that will haunt his little brain every once in a while when he's bored and remembers this night.