#My new job is going well but I’m going to have to hustle on the side

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #136 part 1

Danny felt disgruntled as he slowly came back into consciousness. He was in the middle of the Observants going over some of the new factions that have been growing since he became King. A sudden surge of power flung Danny through a portal and he tried to escape or make sense of what happened but he lost consciousness soon after. 

Coming too Danny was a lot smaller than what he thought he should be. His body had a different feel to it and he could tell he was turned into something that walked on all fours. He lifted his head and took in his surroundings. He was in a field, a field of wheat. He couldn’t even see anything besides the wheat and the sky. The portal that dumped him here was no where to be found either. He was going to have a hard time getting back home, especially in his new form. He could still feel his core but the transformation had done a number on him and he felt exhausted.

Suddenly he heard the wheat snap to his left and he whipped his head around to find a person carefully leaning down a few yards away from him. They seemed to analyze his body movements a little bit before he held out his hand that had a small piece of sausage in it. Danny knew not to take food from strangers but it honestly smelled heavenly and he doubted Sam would ever find out, so he hesitantly walked over and gave it a sniff. After he had taken it from them, they started petting Danny on the head. 

“You're an adorable little puppy aren’t you!” Ah so Danny was apparently a puppy, he probably should try to find a way back home but maybe being a dog for a while wouldn’t be too bad. He hasn’t had a break in a while and the Observants are so damn pushy sometimes. The stranger continued, “I’m going to take you to Damian, he knows a lot about pets. I feel like him and I got off on the wrong foot the other day and I think you’d be the perfect gift.” 

Danny wasn’t sure about being given away as a present but he supposed he had no where else to be and if Damian knew his pets as well as this guy said then Danny would be well cared for.

He was picked up and after a bit of walking they arrived at a farm house. Danny was better able to assess the size of the person holding him and they seemed around 10-12 years old. The kid ran excitedly into the kitchen of the house holding Danny out to an adult that, much like the kid, had black hair and blue eyes. 

“Dad! Look I found a puppy!! Can we bring him tonight to the Watchtower meeting so I can give him to Damian? I think he needs a friend and I want to apologize for how I acted the other day.” The kids dad seemed to give Danny a once over before responding.

“It’s probably fine but let me talk with Bruce first and make sure everything’s OK. We don’t want to force a pet on them even if Damian is good with animals.” He finally responded, he gave the kid a hair tussle and then continued, “Jon, why don’t you give him a bath upstairs while I give him a call, I think I still have some dog shampoo from last time I gave Krypto one.” 

The kid apparently named Jon ran up the stairs with Danny clutched against his chest. Soon he found himself wet in a bathtub, and then he was dried. He was finally able to get a good look at himself in the mirror, he looked like a miniature husky with white fur and dark black patches along his tail, back, and head. His icy blue eyes were piercing and he could see why someone would think he were cute, in fact he was down right adorable. 

After that Jon brought him to a bedroom he assumed belonged to Jon. It was a very basic kid’s bedroom and Danny found himself sprawled on the bed along with Jon. Jon spoke very fondly about Damian and the more he spoke the more Danny got the feeling Jon had a little crush.

Soon Jon’s dad came into the room to tell him that Danny could be given to Damian at the meeting tonight. Danny didn’t know what sort of work Jon's dad did but it sounded like Jon’s and Damian’s dads worked together. He wondered what kind of place the watchtower would be but he didn’t have to wonder for long. 

He also realized how different this world was from his own. Jon and his dad could fly and they wore these skin tight suits, honestly they looked like superheroes which was probably exactly what they were. They flew through the air and eventually they were in front of these tubes Danny honestly didn’t know what they were. Jon and his dad did though, and apparently it was teleportation. Danny was awestruck at the site in front of him, the Watchtower was in space and he could hardly keep in his excitement. 

Master Post:

Next:

[neoheros]

the miya household is always the go-to household for all kinds of celebrations alike. you name it: birthdays, anniversaries, friday night dinners – check, check, check.

atsumu has always grown up in a home where his mom would host the parties for all her grown-up friends, and he’d always be the type of teenager to hide away in his room until the last of the guests finally leave.

it was a silly thing to do looking back on it now, but that was the old miya household.

in the new miya household (population: you and your husband), the two of you can’t just hide away in your broom closet until the last of the guests leave — it is your apartment after all.

at first, it was the big things: msby jackal’s celebration of their first tournament win (where hinata broke a window because he claims bokuto pushed him into it) or akaashi’s job promotion party (where the champagne bottle was so unfortunately aimed that when the corkscrew came flying, it hit the other non-broken window).

two broken windows later, it eventually died down to the little things: small get-togethers, a friend too intoxicated to drive needing a place to stay, or one of your favorites: friday night dinners.

“we’re home!”

there’s the sound of shuffling keys and shoes being taken off at the doorway, rustling of brown paper bags and footsteps.

you pop your head out from the kitchen and it isn’t a surprise at all to you when you see all four of your best friends (one being your husband) standing by your door way, all adorned with cheeky smiles and chinese takeout.

you call to them, “coats here, everybody!”

hinata goes over to you first, still as sweet as ever, and gives you a tight embrace (the same one he gives you every friday night), and you take his coat with a light smile on your face.

bokuto gives you his coat next, paired with an embrace of his own, your smile widens as you immediately recognize the coat you bought him for christmas last year, well and taken care of.

sakusa isn’t wearing a coat or a jacket tonight but still, he approaches you next to the coat stand anyway, and he embraces you just for seeing you again tonight, saying “thank you for having us”.

when you married atsumu, you didn’t realize you weren’t only marrying into his family, but his friends as well.

“you guys just missed samu, he dropped by for a weekly restock.” you tell them, pointing to the plastic bag on the table filled to the brim with the onigiri you’ve learned to love so much.

shoyo plops down on his usual spot on the sofa, “man, i wish onigiri miya personally delivered to my house too.”

“not to mention free of charge.” you add – proud.

he sinks deeper into his seat, “that’s just not fair.”

you seat farthest from tv, on the edge of the table and by the armrest, a seat empty next to yours as you wait for your husband.

“sorry sho,” you shrug, not sorry at all, smug smile on your face and you say, “it’s simply the perks of having the owner of onigiri miya as your brother.”

“that is such a lie.” atsumu rolls his eyes, and he takes his assigned seat next to you, hand immediately finding yours once he gets close enough. “i am also his brother — twin, even! — and i do not get half as much the perks you get.”

“well.” sakusa sits across from you, “i can understand that.”

and bokuto, in between sakusa and hinata, nods, “yep.”

“i can’t believe i’m getting bullied in my own damn home.” atsumu grumbles, and he stabs his broccoli on his plate with a fork.

you tease him, “you can’t?”

the rest of the evening feels warm. the windows are open to let in the fresh air of the streets of japan, the hustling and bustling of the bypassers outside your apartment building easily drowned out by the warm conversation shared in the warm flat.

( “no more hoisin sauce?” bokuto asks, digging around the stack of empty paperbags, fork in his mouth as he talks.

sakusa replies, barely looking up from the movie on the tv set, “sorry, finished it.”

and bokuto says, casually, “i’ll bring some over tomorrow. you guys need a restock anyway.” )

the five of you, sat down on the living room in front of the television, sharing mindlessly stories about your day, laughter and insults and compliments shared as food is passed around.

atsumu takes the red peppers from your dish as you laugh at something hinata says, he remembers - always - red peppers make you sneeze, so it goes unsaid that he takes them.

he does this so often that sometimes he doesn’t even realize it. he does this so often that he’s probably done it over a hundred times by now — like it’s part of him, like a habit.

you take some of your chow mein and place it on his plate, he doesn’t ask you for any, but you give him some anyway. you don’t even look at him as you do so, like it’s completely second nature for your hand to give him some of his favorite noodles and you don’t even have to think about it — like it’s part of you, like a habit.

“so, what time’s the game tomorrow?” you ask, and suddenly he’s out of his thoughts and back on the living room couch.

hinata looks to you, excited, “are you coming? it’s been so long since you last came to watch us.”

“well, depends on the time,” you tell them, “i’ve got a study group tomorrow in the morning.”

“study group?”

“i know right,” your shoulders fall, “our gen chem professor had us divided into study groups so we could easily catch up on her lessons.”

atsumu shrugs, “so? ditch ‘em.”

“i wish.” you sigh, “they’re the kind of people i just know wouldn’t have let me sit with them at the lunch table in high school.”

“oh, i know those people.” shoyo shakes his head, “had those people everywhere i went in junior high.”

you look at atsumu, “but you probably could have sat with them, you’ve got an aura like that — like you could be cool — but you’re not.”

that makes him roll his eyes, “who’s not cool? i am the coolest one in this table — and for yer information, i wouldn’t sit at any table ya weren’t welcome at.”

(sakusa nods at you, and bokuto says, “same here!” and hinata says, “me too!”)

“matter of fact,” you husband, offended at your doubt for him, continues, “i would flip that goddamn table.”

(and sakusa nods again, and bokuto says, “yup!” and hinata says, “definitely!)

your face feels warm, and you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“you guys are silly.” you’re not as loud as earlier, but still, you say, “thanks.” and you bite back a smile.

“so…” shoyo grins at you, “ditch ‘em?”

“ditch ‘em!” bokuto repeats.

and for a second all of you look at sakusa, his turn to speak apparently, and he sighs, defeated, shoulders falling and he relents, and says, “fine. ditch ‘em.”

the three other guys cheer loudly and you roll your eyes.

“well, that makes four of us.” atsumu tells you, proud, “you’re outnumbered, honey.”

“fine.” you’re defeated, “i’ll ditch ‘em and come watch you guys play.” and the table erupts in cheers again, and you feel your heart become so full.

atsumu kisses your cheek and you swat him away.

“i’ll text natsu that you’re coming, she’s been pestering me over and over again when you’ll come next,” shoyo tells you, bright smile on his face.

bokuto nods, “i gotta tell akaashi too, maybe we can get everyone there like a reunion or something!”

and this makes you laugh, because, “you guys are acting like i haven’t come to watch you guys play in forever.”

and sakusa tells you, “it has been forever.”

“well, i guess a reunion or something would be kinda nice? we can have everyone come back here, bring out a few drinks.” you think out loud, relenting to the pleas of your oldest friends, and you can’t hold back a smile even if you wanted to.

“if anyone breaks a goddamn window in my home, everyone is getting charged the repair bill.”

the night ends quicker than you want it to, suddenly it’s 10 pm and the warm night starts to get colder.

“thank you for dinner, miyas.” bokuto tells you, grinning ear to ear as you walk him to the doorway, a barrage of shoes laid out on the floor, reminding you what a full house you have tonight.

you hand him his coat and his hat, and he embraces you tightly, one that you will never not return.

hinata comes up to you next, “thank you for dinner and please please please come tomorrow.”

“yes sho, i will be there.” you tell him lightly, and he embraces you as well (the same one he gives you every friday night).

the last to come up to you is sakusa, his hands already in his pockets, eyes tired and all. he doesn’t have a coat or a jacket, but he comes up to you anyway.

“thank you for having us.” he tells you, like he always does, and he gives you a short kiss on your right temple, like he always does, “it’s good to see you.”

you pat his arm, “you say that every friday night, omi.”

“what? no kiss for me?” atsumu calls from the side, arms crossed over his chest.

and sakusa replies, eyes narrowing, “never.”

(they have this conversation every single friday night.)

and just like that, all three of your guests for the night have left, leaving behind only two pairs of shoes left by the doorway — yours and your husband’s.

atsumu makes his way to you, his arms finding your waist immediately as he pulls you into his embrace, hugging you like it’s all he’s ever done correctly.

the apartment is quiet now with just you and him, and he loves this as much as he loves you.

“finally,” he tells you, smiling wantonly, “just us two.”

you smile back at him, “we have so many kids.”

and he nods, “even more tomorrow.”

your apartment, your home, it isn’t anything impressive, really. it’s not big or expensive or fancy, but for some reason, it’s always been the go-to place for everyone to have drinks at, for dinners to be shared, for windows to be broken.

“you really okay with that? the reunion thing here?” your husband asks you, his tone gentle, “its okay if you’re not, we can just cancel on ‘em. have the night to ourselves.”

you raise a brow, teasing, “and do what exactly?”

atsumu gives you a knowing grin, “i’ve got a list in mind.”

you laugh, “i bet you do.”

he comes closer to your face, “i can cross one off on it right now.”

and he kisses you then, the same way he does every single day of his life, the same way he plans to for a million years more.

you feel his smile melting into his kisses.

then he pulls away, smiling at you, voice gentle, cheeks pink, and heart full, “thank you for dinner, miya.”

you laugh again, and with the same amount of gentleness, you say back, “thank you for dinner, miya.”

atsumu knows you could never be unloved by him — you are too tangled in his mind, in his soul that you might as well take his heart entirely — it’s already full of you anyway, it has been since the day he’s met you.

“and no, we are not cancelling on them.” you tell him, pulling away, “i miss our friends and i know you do too.”

he tells you, “fine.” and he pulls you back in, nose close to yours, wide grin on his face as he takes you.

he wants to kiss you again, but to be fair, he wants to do that all of the time.

you give him a smile, “i’ll let you cross another thing off that list of yours if you do the dishes.”

and he groans, “you know omi already did them.”

“man, we have got to get lazier friends.”

“well, we can always call that study group of yours.”

(the two of you say friends, but it feels a whole lot more like family.)

together you and atsumu create a home filled with flowers, kindness, cozy pillows, and loud music. in your halls there is rest, good sex, good sleep, books, and dancing. there is space to be you, there is space to be him, there is space to be be the two of you, and there is love, there is love, there is love.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Protector | Matt Rempe

wc. 2.1k

You decide to go on a first date on Valentine's Day but what happens when the date goes beyond horrible? You call your best friend to help save you from it.

warnings: really really mean date, mentions a concern for being drugged but nothing actually happens

So maybe going on a first date with a guy you’ve never met before on Valentine’s Day was not your best idea. 

The fomo of Valentine's day has been weighing on you ever since you were a teenager. You were far from the most popular kid in school and had little luck in the love department as you worked through college. Now freshly out of college, living in Manhattan and kicking off your career, you figured now was the time to start getting out there and going on dates. 

To say you have hated online dating ever since trying it would be an extreme understatement. It felt like you had been on hundreds of dates with zero success and tonight was no exception. 

Your date Paul was a bit older than you, unemployed at the moment and looking for a new relationship after just leaving his ex. He met up with you at this fancy restaurant you have never been to and has so far criticized everything about you. 

“Why would you order seafood?” Paul sneers, looking down at your dish. “It’s gonna make your breath smell and I don’t want to have to deal with that later.” 

You’re shocked at how you’re able to keep your face neutral, at least long enough to cough out some excuse that you needed to use the restroom. You grab your purse and your phone, excusing yourself before speed walking over to the bathroom. Once safely inside, you open your phone but pause directly afterwards. 

Who were you supposed to call? 

You were still fairly new to the city, your best friend still lives back home, college friends were either out with their partners or out at a bar, there didn’t seem like anyone could come to your rescue. You started to think through excuses to make to Paul but fall flat. 

Then, you do something you shouldn’t. You call him. 

Matt was just settling into his short break from the NHL. Granted he hasn’t played a ton of games, he still reveled in a break from the grueling schedule of hockey life in general. He knew he was due back to the rangers in less than a week but for now he was content in catching up on some reading and relaxing. 

Just as he’s settled into his couch, fantasy novel in hand, his phone goes off. He looks down, spotting your contact flashing on his screen and he sighs quietly. He remembers you mentioning a date for today but he can’t remember much past that. 

You and Matt have been friends for about a year now and Matt has had a crush on you for even longer than that. Damn near since he got drafted to the Rangers back in 2020. You had done some on and off work for the Rangers for a while now, a side hustle job that Matt wished was your full time one so he could see you more often. 

You were there the day he was drafted, stepping in for media/photos for the day and he had beat himself up for years following for not getting your number that day. When he saw you during his NHL debut it felt like fate was on his side and he made sure to introduce himself better this time. 

You’ve been close friends ever since but that only made Matt’s crush on you grow stronger. He always tried to play it off but time and time again of saving you, protecting you, was hurting his heart more and more. He promised he’d always be there for you but at what cost? His heart? 

Still, he picks up anyway. 

“Hello?” 

Your heart floods in relief at Matt’s familiar voice, a jump of butterflies adding to the mixture as well. 

“Oh thank god,” you release in a breath. “I really need your help.” 

Matt’s heart clenches at your words and he can’t help the way he’s already standing from his seat, walking over to where he keeps his keys. 

“This guy I’m on a date with is a total creep and now that I think about it I left my drink uncovered just now and I’m scared and he keeps making weird comments and-” 

“I’m on my way,” Matt interjects, anger flaring his words and you visibly relax at his response. 

You hang up the phone, shooting Matt a text with the address you were at and he tells you he’ll only be five minutes. You make your way back to the table where Paul is clearly unamused. 

“What? You have an emergency? You suddenly need to leave right this minute?” he asks sarcastically and you shake your head. 

“No I just-” you start but he’s quick to cut you off. 

“You know, a decent person would just tell someone that the date isn’t going well instead of making excuses. This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.” 

“Excuse me?” you snap, anger rising in your chest. You had been nothing but kind and polite this entire time and all he’s done is rip into you and you were done playing the sweet and demure girl. 

“Firstly, you pick this horrible restaurant. Then, you catfish me, lying about your weight and showing up looking like you just rolled out of bed. God and your personality! You-” 

His rant sends you into a spiral that causes you to freeze, unable to react in any way. Your brain blocks out his next words, not sure what to do next when the decision is taken out of your hands. You watch as someone steps up, grabbing Paul by the shirt and hauling him up from his chair. 

The minute Matt steps into the restaurant he spots you, your posture stiff and unwelcoming, something that sets him on edge instantly. He starts to walk over, his long strides making short work of the distance but when he hears your date's words it takes all of him not to start sprinting at him. 

“You are such an obnoxious little-“ Paul continues but Matt has him by the collar of his shirt and is pulling him out of his seat before he can finish the words. 

“Don’t you ever,” Matt’s voice snaps you out of your state and you stare as he pushes Paul backwards, effectively blocking him from you. “Speak to her or fuck even look at her again, or it will be the last thing you do.” 

Matt is breathing heavily like he just completed a 3 minute shift on the ice and is still staring down his opponent. He’s trying to tamp down his anger but he never realized what people meant about seeing red until this moment. This rat faced looking dick was saying these things to you? Oh Matt was gonna kill him. 

The restaurant is deafeningly silent after Matt’s words and you watch as Paul analyzes the situation before holding his hands up in surrender. Matt stares him down for another moment or two before turning towards you. 

Matt wants nothing more than to turn and lunge at Paul and beat him senseless but he knows you and your safety are the priority. He grabs your purse and jacket before taking your hand in his other free one and pulling you out of the restaurant. 

Matt drags you down the block before you finally pull him to a stop, the intensity of the moment still thrumming in your veins. Matt turns to face you, waiting for you to do or say something and you take a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. His heart leaps looking at you, wanting to pull you into his chest and hold you close so you know you’re safe but wanting to give you space to process what just happened. 

“Fuck darling you’re shaking,” Matt says finally and when you look at him you realize the adrenaline mixed with the cold February weather has you shaking like a leaf. He steps forward, wrapping you up in your jacket and his proximity makes you finally take a breath of relief. 

“Thank you for helping me,” you murmur quietly. Matt’s heart pounds at the words, a mix of anger, jealousy, and sadness rushing around inside of him. 

Matt lets out a heavy sigh and steps back with a curt nod of his head. His warmth leaves and you’re shivering again causing you to frown. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, “Let’s get you home.” 

It’s the only thing he can say at the moment, his heart and mind in turmoil. He would do anything to protect you, he knew that truth for the rest of his life. But he hates that that’s all he is to you. A protector. He needed it to stop before his heart gave out. He turns away from you and you can’t help but step back up next to him, wrapping your hands around his arm as he starts to walk. 

Matt wants to shake you off but the feeling of you next to him settles his heart in an instant and he steps closer to you as you make your way back to your apartment. The journey is short and your heart seems to have settled almost to a normal rhythm now that you’re home safe with Matt next to you. 

When you get to your door you unlock it and let Matt in without a word. He follows you slowly into the kitchen where you pour yourself a glass of water and just as you’re about to offer something to Matt as well, he starts to speak. 

“I should go,” he mutters awkwardly and you frown at his words. 

Matt knew that if he stayed here, comforted you, went as far as staying the night, the pattern would continue and his heart would stay stuck in this endless loop of hope and heartbreak. He had to get out now for the best. Even when everything else in him was screaming at him to stay. 

“Please stay?” 

“Why?” he cuts you off, stepping closer with an intensity that wasn’t there before. 

“Why?” you repeat, confused by his question. 

“I promised to keep you safe, and I kept my promise,” he snaps and your face twists to confusion. “I’m done here.”

Your heart splinters at each word, falling apart at the seams as he talks. Tears threaten to spill over, you watch as Matt takes in your expression, something unfamiliar flickering over his features before he turns away. 

Matt can feel that each movement in his body is beyond forced. He has to tell himself to turn, to take a step, take another step, not look back at you and so on. He can’t handle it. 

“Excuse me?” you snap and he pauses. “I’m not done with you.” 

You march over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to face you. He towers over you, his six foot nine inch frame should be intimidating but right now it’s just frustrating. He stands in front of you, motionless, his eyes finding purchase on something behind you. 

“Look at me,” you demand and his eyes flicker for a moment and you repeat yourself. Finally his chocolate brown eyes land on you and you instinctively take a breath. 

“You may think you’re keeping me safe and that you’ve done your job as my protector or whatever so now you get to leave,” you start and Matt stares at you with a blank expression. “But I only ever feel safe when you’re around.” 

“What?” he asks, shell shocked by your words. 

“I need you Matt,” you tell him quietly. “I need you here. I need you to keep me safe. I need you to help me I just, I fucking need you.” 

The look in your eyes is so vulnerable, so intense Matt can’t look away. He knows the underlying meaning to your words but he’s too scared to take the leap. He doesn’t want to be wrong. He can’t ruin this. 

“Matt,” you say, breaking his train of thought. “My love, you’re all I want.” 

That’s all Matt needs to hear before he’s finally stepping up to you, wrapping you up in his arms and hauling you to him so you’re face to face. His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss that has warmth spilling throughout you. 

Matt felt like he was flying. He knew he was always going to protect you, take care of you, keep you safe, love you. He never realized you depended on that truth as much as he depended on living it out. He was nothing if you weren’t safe. 

“I love you,” you whimper out quietly when you break apart. 

“I love you,” he responds, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His promise is everything to the two of you and your heart settles gently in his hands, him handing over his as well. 

[gojoidyll]

what if it wasn't a burden (it never was to begin with) | sung jinwoo x disabled reader

You didn't hate the idea of soulmates, not at all. However, being wheelchair bound wasn't exactly something you considered ideal for your fated to be to see. Even as you push your wheels forward, you deeply hope you never run into them. Seeing as how you'll never walk again, you hated the fact that if you did meet your soulmate, you'll just end up being a burden to them. That's what you hated. Well, until your soulmate proved you wrong, but that wouldn't be till much much later.

You wondered what different colors actually looked like instead of the monochromatic world that you are so used to seeing. The black, white, and grey hues shining through different tints and shades being as dull as your thoughts.

Much like what you would see in those romance manga, soulmates existed here. Though, you honestly hoped you never met yours even if it would two things happening. One, you would finally meet your fated to be and live happily-ever-after and two, the world would burst into color.

However…, your fingers absently tapped away at at the armrest of your wheelchair. Your legs weren’t exactly working right now. They did, at one point, but an accident had happened, and, well, you hoped that you never met your soulmate. You loathed the fact that you might be a burden to them, and you definitely didn’t want to see the sympathetic look on their face or the look of disappointment either.

“OW!”

You winced as you rubbed your forehead, your eyes squinting at the culprit as you furrowed your brow at her, “what was that for?!”

Your friend who was sitting across from you grinned as stirred her straw into her drink, “you were having those self-deprecating thoughts again.”

You frowned as you stopped rubbing your forehead and grabbed your own drink. The small café you both were in was quiet, but it still had a little hustle and bustle as everyone moved around.

“How can you even tell?”

Your friend took a sip of her too sugary drink before answering, “it’s that look on your face.”

“My look?”

“Yeah, you just.. look so sad. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe your expression sometimes. Like it’s a sad emotion I never felt before so I can’t exactly put into words? Does that make sense?”

“I guess?”

The conversation went from there. You too talked about all sorts of things. But work was usually the main topic you both settled on at the end as she stood up to toss her empty cup and then went over to grab the handles of your wheelchair.

“H- hey, you don’t need to do that! I can push myself!”

You hated being a burden to others.

“Oh, shut up and let me do this.”

You grumbled to yourself as you both left the café.

“Anyway,” she started, “how’s the life of being a famous author? Got any new book ideas swirling in that head of yours?”

“Not really? I guess I am just in a writer’s block…, but how about you? You’re a hunter…, your work must be far more exciting than mine.”

“The only exciting thing is not getting hurt and winding up in the hospital like this one E-rank I know.”

You know who she’s talking about but can’t place his name.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t get badly hurt-,” you were cut off when her phone dinged. It was same sound for when she gets a notification for a job.

“Dang it,” she said as she checked it once we got to a crosswalk.

“Something wrong?”

“This one is immediate and… I kind of need the rent money.”

You smiled and shooed her away, “better get going then, we can hangout again tomorrow if you’re free.”

“You sure?”

“You need the rent money.”

“R- right,” she said sheepishly as you took control of your wheelchair, “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, “see ya.”

She gave you a hug from behind before turning to jog down the street. Sighing to yourself, you turned back forward and waited for the crosswalk to turn green and by this point a lot of people started to form up at the line. And it wasn’t until it turned green and everyone started walking did you hear another notification, most likely for another hunter.

“Mann, it’s the other way-“

Your eyes widened as the man in front of you turned and accidentally bumped his foot against your leg and almost instantaneously did your world burst with color. Everything was so bright as you squinted. Your eyes were basically being assaulted by all the different hues affronting your eyeballs, “holy-“

“I’m so sorry-!”

You both stopped and looked at one another, it didn’t take a genius to know what just happened even as you both got your bearings.

“Come on! Move it brats!”

The man who hit your leg and made your world fill with color was pushed back the other way as you were forced forward, and once you both were on another sides of the streets both crowds seemed to move you two along. Neither of you being able to catch a full glimpse of the other before you found yourself alone and the man nowhere in sight.

“I wasn’t even able to open my mouth to ask his name…”

[redocity]

hi! i’m in love with your work. i hope this is not a strange request but i was speaking to one of my friends about how buck would subscribe to an OF account that turned out to be the new recruit at the 118.

bonus points if he recognizes them by their voice 🙏😝

GOIN’ BUCK WILD — E.BUCKLEY

you have a moment of introspection after realising that one of your new teammates already knows who you are. from your less… public form of income.

evan buckley x gn!OF!reader | 1.4k | nsfw | masterlist.

a/n — speed ran this request bc it’s actually hilarious. this is such a buck thing to do

18+ for nsfw mentions. MDNI.

You never expected this to happen. Not in a million years. You always knew there was a risk, a slim one, but still a possibility. The internet is vast, yet incredibly small at the worst of times.

You’ve been running your OnlyFans account for a little over a year now. It started off as a side hustle, a way to make some extra cash while working toward your career goals. You never showed your face, never revealed anything too personal—just enough to keep your subscribers coming back.

A few teases here and there, a sultry voice guiding them through whatever fantasy they needed. It paid well. Really well.

And then you got the call. The one you’d been waiting for.

The 118 had an opening, and they wanted you.

You worked your ass off to get here. The training, the certifications, the grueling hours. You deserved this. You earned it. And nothing—not even your little side gig—was going to get in the way.

Or so you thought.

Day one at the 118 is nerve-wracking, but you keep your cool. You walk in with confidence, shaking hands, introducing yourself to the team. They all seem great—kind, welcoming, like the family you hoped to find here. Bobby Nash, the Captain, offers you a warm smile. Eddie, all serious but friendly enough. Chimney, cracking a joke within seconds of meeting you.

And then there’s Evan Buckley.

Buck, as he introduces himself, is standing a few feet away, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to place you. You extend a hand. “Hey, nice to meet you,”

The moment you speak, his entire body goes rigid. His blue eyes widen, his mouth opens, then closes, then opens again like he’s trying to find words but they’ve all escaped him. And then, like a switch has been flipped, his face goes bright red.

Like, rivalling the fire-engines red.

Buck is a man who likes to enjoy himself—who can blame him? He works a dangerous job, sees things most people would rather pretend don't exist. So when he gets home, when he's alone in his bed, he indulges.

And god, has he indulged in you.

Or at least, the version of you he's seen on a screen. The one who teases and whispers, who lets out soft, breathy moans that have gotten him through more nights than he’d like to admit.

But none of that prepared him for this. For you standing in front of him in broad daylight, in full gear, looking so much better than his imagination ever managed.

You pause, confused. His grip on your hand is firm, almost too tight, and when you glance down, you can see his knuckles turning white.

“Buck, you good?” Chimney nudges him with an elbow, snapping him out of it.

Buck blinks rapidly, clearing his throat as he drops your hand like it burned him. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. Great. Fine,” His voice cracks on the last word, and you swear you see Chimney smirk.

“You sure? You’re looking a little…” Eddie gestures vaguely to Buck’s entire existence right now.

“I’m fine,” Buck insists, before turning his attention back to you. “So, uh. You’re the new recruit?”

“That’s me,” you say, still smiling. “Looking forward to working with you, Buck,”

He makes a sound. It’s almost a word, but mostly just a strangled noise.

“Cool. Cool, yeah. Same,”

Bobby starts introductions, and Buck tries—really tries—to focus. But every time you speak, his eyes flick to your lips, then away just as fast.

He is so screwed.

You arch a brow but don’t press. Maybe he’s just awkward. Maybe he’s nervous about new recruits. You don’t know him well enough to tell, so you move on, shaking Eddie’s hand next, then the others.

But even as the introductions wrap up, you can feel Buck’s eyes on you, burning into your skin like he’s just had a revelation of biblical proportions.

It doesn’t hit you until later.

Not until you’re in the locker room, shoving your gear into your assigned space, when you remember something—a very specific string of comments on one of your recent videos.

God, you sound so good.

Your voice is insane.

Do you take requests?

And the username attached to it?

BucksWild89.

Your stomach drops.

Oh. Oh no.

You spin around, catching a glimpse of Buck through the open doorway. He’s standing in the kitchen, gripping a bottle of water so tightly you think it might shatter in his hands. His eyes dart to you, and when he sees you looking, he immediately looks away, ears still red.

Shit.

He knows.

The realisation settles over you like a weighted blanket, suffocating and oddly exhilarating at the same time. You should be mortified. You are mortified. But there’s also a tiny, traitorous part of you that finds this hilarious.

Evan Buckley, firefighter, hero, and apparently one of your most devoted subscribers, is currently having an existential crisis in the middle of the firehouse because he just put two and two together.

And now you have to work with him.

—

For the next few weeks, Buck does his absolute best to avoid you.

It does not work.

Not when you’re both part of the same team, constantly thrown together in high-stress situations. Not when you’re running drills side by side, when you're jammed into the firetruck together, when you’re passing each other in the kitchen at the station.

And definitely not when you start leaning into it.

Nothing obvious—nothing anyone else would notice. Just little things. A brush of fingers when you hand him something. A knowing look when you catch him staring. Lowering your voice just a little when you talk to him, just enough to remind him exactly where he’s heard it before.

It’s driving him insane.

He tells himself to just act normal. To pretend he doesn’t know what you sound like when you’re gasping out his name (well, not his name, but a name). To not think about the way your body looked stretched out in those videos.

It does not go well.

Especially not tonight.

He’s in the locker room, leaning against the metal doors, taking slow, deep breaths. Trying to will away the flush on his face.

“Hey, Buck,”

He groans. “Oh, come on.”

You laugh, stepping inside and letting the door shut behind you. “What? Something wrong?”

He gives you a look. “You know what’s wrong,”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“You—” He cuts himself off, rubbing a hand down his face. “You have to stop messing with me,”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He drops his hand, looking at you like you’re the single most frustrating person he’s ever met. Which, fair.

“Because every time you talk, I hear it,” he mutters, voice strained.

You step closer. “Hear what?”

His jaw clenches. His eyes flick to your lips. “You know what.”

Your smile curves slow and wicked. “Oh Buck,” you murmur, voice dropping into that soft, breathy tone he knows too well, leaning in just enough that he can feel the heat of you. “Am I distracting you?”

He makes another one of those strangled noises. You love it.

“I hate you,” he mutters.

You grin. “No, you don’t,”

He swallows hard. “You can’t tell anyone,”

You place a hand on his chest, right over his racing heart. “I won’t,”

His hand catches yours before you can pull away.

There’s a beat of silence. A shift.

The teasing fades, just a little. Enough for something else to slip in.

Something that makes the air go thick between you.

“…What now?” Buck asks, voice rough.

You look at him. Really look at him.

“Depends,” you say softly.

“On?”

You let your fingers trail up, just a little. Over his collarbone. To the side of his neck. You feel the way he shivers.

“How committed you are,” you murmur.

His hand tightens around yours.

And oh.

You are so not done with him yet.

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care

Take care of your body

Why You Should Take a Break: The Importance of Rest and Relaxation

I Think I Need to Go the Emergency Room?

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist

Ask the Bitches: Ugh, How Do I Build the Habit of Taking Meds?

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back: How (and Why) to Protect Abortion Rights

Ask the Bitches: How Can I Survive in an Apartment with No Heat?

The Expensive Difference Between Recreation and Recovery 

Take care of your mind

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos and Your Big Brain

Everything Is Stressful and I’m Dying: How to Survive a Panic Attack

Stop Recommending Therapy Like It’s a Magic Bean That’ll Grow Me a Beanstalk to Neurotypicaltown

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

Ask the Bitches: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed

Update: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed

Ask the Bitches: How Can I Absolve Myself of Financial Guilt Over My Pricey PS4?

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

Take care of your time

Stop Measuring Your Time in Beyoncé Hours

Help! I’m Procrastinating and I Can’t Get Up!

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

Actually, Fuck Big Goals

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

I’ve Succeeded at Every New Year’s Resolution I’ve Ever Made. Here’s How.

Romanticizing the Side Hustle: When 1 Job Isn’t Enough

8 Free Time Management Systems To Try in the New Year

My 25 Secrets to Successfully Working from Home with ADHD 

I Am So Over Productivity Porn 

Take care of your career

High School Students Have No Way of Knowing What Career to Choose. Why Do We Make Them Do It Anyway?

The Actually Helpful, Nuanced, Non-Bullshit Way to Choose a Future Career

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

My Secret Weapon for Preparing for Awkward Boss Confrontations

Freelancer, Protect Thyself… With a Fair Contract

I Hate My Job and I Don’t Know How To Leave It: A Confession

A New Job, a New Day, a New Life, and I’m Feeling Good

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

How Abusive Workplaces Mirror Abusive Relationships 

Take care of your space

How to Successfully Work from Home Without Losing Your Goddamn Mind (Or Your Job)

Leaving Home before 18: A Practical Guide for Cast-Offs, Runaways, and Everybody in Between

Ask the Bitches: I Want to Move Out, but I Can’t Afford It. How Bad Would It Be to Take out Student Loans to Cover It?

How To Maintain Your Car When You’re Barely Driving It

Take care of your people

How Dafuq Do Couples Share Their Money?

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

Ask the Bitches: I Was Guilted Into Caring for a Sick, Abusive Parent. Now What?

Love in the Time of Coronavirus: How to Protect Your Community and Your Soul from COVID-19

Be Somebody’s Eliza with a Simple Yet Life-Changing Act of Kindness 

The Ultimate Guide to Helping a Sick Friend 

Learning To Reverse the Golden Rule

I Have Become the Rich Relative I Always Wanted  

Take care of your financial well-being

Ask the Bitches: How Can I Make Myself Financially Secure Before Age 30?

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Ask the Bitches: Is It Too Late to Get My Financial Shit Together?

Slay Your Financial Vampires

Should Artists Ever Work for Free?

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Financial Math

Share My Horror at the World’s Worst Debt Visualization

Stop Undervaluing Your Freelance Work, You Darling Fool

A (Somewhat) Comprehensive List of Fun Job Perks that Won’t Pay Your Rent

We will periodically update this list with newer articles. And by “periodically” I mean “when we remember that it’s something we forgot to do for four months.”

Bitches Get Riches: setting realistic expectations since 2017!

Join the Bitches on Patreon

[kteezy997]

and btw could u maybe start an series with an assistant x Timothée ?

Beyond Business-part one//t.c.

Warnings: cursing, mention of alcohol and drug use

“Timothée, you have the power to end this, any time you want to, so why don’t you?” you asked, waking into his home with him.

“You don’t get it, okay? It’s more complicated than you know.” he grumbled, heading to the fridge, opening it up to grab a bottle of beer.

“Timmy you reek of alcohol, do you really think you need more?”

He gulped down some of the cold liquid, stopping to glare at you, “As if it’s any of your business. You’re not my mother, y/n, just go home.”

As harsh as he was, he was right, he was your boss, and you weren’t friends. Your concern could only go so far before it was too personal.

Neither of you said anything more, Timmy left the kitchen, you assumed he was headed to crash in his bedroom after nursing on the brown bottle.

You left his apartment, reflecting on the past year of your life as Timothée Chalamet’s personal assistant. As you drove home, you remembered how goofy and lively he was when you were first hired. Now, he was becoming a hollow shell of that man.

He had been in a relationship with Kylie Jenner for nearly a year before you met him. But as time went on, after spending time with him, you wondered to what extent the relationship was real, or if it could qualify as a relationship at all. It seemed, to you, more of a situation-ship.

For the last six months, you saw Timmy become more dependent on alcohol and weed to help his moods. These days he was working crazy hours, traveling all over promoting his latest film. He was skinnier than you had ever seen him, and he was obviously tired as well. You, along with other people in his life, were worried about him.

The bad thing is, he is a grown man and he is going to do what he wants. He cannot be controlled any more than any other adult. So, for the most part, you felt as if you were watching him destroy himself and you were powerless to stop it.

.......

Timmy was bright and early with his apology text the next morning.

"hey, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have been such a dick to you. especially not you, you don't deserve that. Let's have a good day together, yeah?"

You knew that he did not have the energy to hire a new assistant if you were to ever quit. He needed you, you both knew that. So you answered just a moment later.

"Okay. Want coffee after I'm finished running errands this morning?"

"Yes please! Thank you." he texted back immediately.

A couple of hours later, you made it to Timmy's place after picking up his dry cleaning, some groceries, his mail, and two coffees, one for him and one for you. You let yourself in with your copy of his key.

As you carefully carried the armfuls of items, you saw him drying his hair with a towel in the living room. "Hey, let me help." he said, dropping the towel on one of the couches and hustling over to you.

"Thanks." you said, and together you set all of the bags and the coffees onto the kitchen island. Carefully, you lay his garment bag flat on the surface.

"No, thank you for doing all of this." Timmy insisted, taking his attention from the items on the counter to look in your eyes.

You felt like his green eyes were piercing into your soul. This was the real Timmy. He had showered and sobered up from the drunken night before. "Well, it is my job."

“I know, but I’m still really grateful for you. Not everyone would put up with me for as long as you have.” he smiled.

You returned a smile to him, then said, “I should get these groceries put away.” you grabbed one of the bags, “But go ahead and tell me what’s on the agenda for today.”

As you started taking items out of the grocery bag, he cleared his throat, saying, “Oh, um, I just got some calls to make, so if you’d go through and answer emails for now that’d be great. After you’re done in the kitchen of course, I mean, no rush.” Between his sentences, he was also unloading the bags.

“Okay.” you giggled at him trying to help you, “I can get this, Timmy, you go make your calls.”

"Yeah," he set down a can of coffee, "yeah, okay." He gave you a soft smile before turning to leave the kitchen.

To you, he seemed almost...nervous? The vibes with him were different today. Not bad, just different. You didn't know what was up with him, but it was not your place to pry.

.......

A little bit later, you sat at his dining room table, replying to his vast number of emails on his laptop. In between calls, he would look through a script and read over his business contracts.

It began to feel like a normal workday again. Every once in a while, you would ask him a question and he would answer you and vice versa. He was himself.

"Alright, thank you, bye." Timmy ended another phone call. He sighed; it had been hours since he started. You knew that he was exhausted from talking to people for the day.

You peaked up from the laptop screen, still expertly typing your email message. Timmy made his way over to you.

As you typed, you heard his footsteps coming closer, until he was right next to your chair. You hit 'send,' and went on to another email, as nonchalantly as you could.

He leaned down, his hands on the table, his arms caging you on either side. You stopped, turned your head slightly to look at him, your heart was beating so fast.

January 5, 2025

Happy New Year, guys! Let me know if you’re excited for this new story!❤️

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[ladycaramelswirl]

It Happened in Texas

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader❤︎

Chapter 2 : five year olds are better than you (at making friends)

series masterlist

A/N: Yet again I’ve written an unrealistic scenario for the plot. And I’ll do it again. This is just crack plot and some fluff. The team having a good time. Use of y/n a few times.

Fun fact for context: most handcuffs used by law enforcement have universal keys

word count: 2.8k

Enjoy! 🤍

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

You make it through the next few months without any issues. You go on a case, report to Strauss and decline any of the team’s non-work-related invites. The team is polite, but you (deservedly) feel like an outsider. And Hotch still ignores you most of the time. You’ve both managed to somehow do your job and pretend the other person doesn’t exist. The team pretends not to notice. Your days start to seem cyclical, but at least unlike Houston, no one refuses to work with you. 

“Hi!”

You startle from your paperwork to see a child smiling at you. He’s sweet looking, with blonde hair and big brown eyes. How did a child get in here?

“I like your hair. Are you daddy’s new work friend? Are you also a superhero?”

It’s an odd lineup of questions. You try your best to answer them.

“Thank you. I like your hair too. I’m not a superhero, I think. Your dad is a superhero?”

The child nods seriously.

“He’s not a real superhero like Spider-Man, but he’s a superhero to me”, he tells you. 

Your heart melts. His father must be a really great dad.

“That’s so cool! Are you here to visit him?”, you ask.

The child nods. “But he’s busy right now”.

You don’t remember anyone on the team mentioning family visiting today. 

“What’s your name? 

“Jack”.

“Hi Jack, I’m y/n”.

Who was this kid?

“Uncle Spence!”

You watch the young profiler hug the child. 

Jack tries to hustle him for candy, but Spencer apologises and says he doesn’t have any. You offer him a chocolate from your drawer which immediately makes you Jack’s favourite. He decides to take residence on your lap. 

You look at Spencer. 

“Uncle?”

He looks flustered. 

“Oh that’s just what he calls us. He’s Hotch’s kid”.

What? This little angel?

“Jack? Jack where are you?”

You look up to see Hotch come out of his office looking distressed. 

“I’m here!”, the boy shouts.

Hotch makes his way over.

“Sorry buddy the meeting ran late I - ”

He notices where Jack is sitting and looks at you apologetically. 

“His school suddenly closed today and I couldn’t get a babysitter. Sorry if he bothered you”.

Oh? So he’s not ignoring you if it’s in front of his kid. Noted.

“No that’s okay. Sorry for giving him chocolate. He said he was hungry”.

Hotch picks him up from your lap. 

“It’s not a problem”, he tells you. “Sorry for making you wait Jack. Let’s go have lunch”, he tells the child. 

Jack looks at his dad. 

“Can she come to my birthday party?”

Hotch looks between you and his son hesitantly. 

“Buddy it’s in three days. She might be busy”.

Jack looks devastated.

“Please?”, he asks you.

“That’s okay. I can come”, you tell him.

“See dad!”, Jack tells Hotch.

“I’ll text you the address. And thank you”, the older Hotchner tells you.

“No problem”.

————————————

You make sure to enter the party late and wait until you see Hotch talking with a parent to sneak in. The BAU are all in one corner, drinking and laughing together. You steer clear of them and leave your present on the gift table. When you’ve run out of moms to talk to, you start clearing up garbage and washing dishes. A little blonde head pops up beside you.

“Hi!”

“Jack! Happy Birthday!”

He opens his arms for a hug and you bend down to oblige.

“Why are you tidying up?”, he asks.

“Well I didn’t really have much to do and I wanted to help out”, you tell him.

Jack frowns.

“So you don’t have any friends?”, he asks, deeply concerned. 

“No, I have friends. I-“, you think to yourself. You had uprooted your life to move to D.C. for this job. The only people who you knew in the city were your coworkers. Who you avoid because technically, you’re spying on them. Jesus Christ, the kid is right. You have no friends.

Jack sees you come to the realisation in real time and pats your arm like you’re a dog.

“That’s okay. Sometimes people have very little friends. Like my dad. Uncle Dave always says, that’s why you have no friends Aaron”, Jack tells you, imitating the older man.

You choke on air.

“Auntie Pen says dad would have more friends if he smiled more. Do you smile?”, Jacks asks you seriously.

You nod. 

He seems satisfied. “Then you can prob’ly have friends”, he tells you. “But if not, it’s okay because you can be my friend”.

You smile. How did such a grumpy man raise this kid? 

“I’d love to be your friend Jack”, you tell him. “You’re my favourite Hotchner. But don’t tell your dad”. You didn’t need him thinking that you were trying to get closer to the team by befriending Jack.

“Don’t tell me what?”

You turn to see your scowling unit chief.

You feel your stomach drop, but his face causes Jack to giggle. 

“It’s a secret!”, he tells his dad, jumping into his arms. Hotch picks him up and gives him a soft kiss on his head. He whispers something in Jack’s ear which makes his eyes light up and he scrambles to the backyard. Hotch looks at you for an explanation.

You shrug you shoulders. “A secret’s a secret.”

Hotch stares at you like he can somehow read your mind if he looks at you long enough.

“You’re very loyal”, he says. 

His tone is accusatory, and you’re certain he’s talking no longer talking about Jack.

I don’t want to be, you want to say. But you need your job.

“I care about my friends. That makes me loyal”, you say.

He scoffs. “She’s not your friend”.

You try not to roll your eyes. Obviously you don’t think Strauss is your friend.

“And are you?”, you ask. “My friend”.

Hotch stares at you like you’ve sprouted a second head, but he doesn’t have time to answer because Jack tackles you into a hug. 

“Thank you thank you thank you!” 

You’re thrown off balance by the force of the child and almost fall over. Hotch grabs your arm to keep you steady then quickly lets go. Jack holds up the Lego set that you bought him. 

“Dad this is the one I said I wanted! The limited edition one!”, he says excitedly.

Hotch smiles at his son. “That’s so great buddy”.

Jack runs off to show everyone else. Hotch looks at you gratefully.

“I’ve been looking for that everywhere. I can’t believe you found it. You got it in two days?”.

After overhearing him asking JJ about it in the office and had scouring the internet for one, you had used your day off yesterday to go to some sketchy seller in New York because they refused to ship it to you for some reason. You had technically bought it to get on Hotch’s good side, but the hassle was worth it to see Jack’s face light up. 

“I care about my friends”, you shrug.

Hotch stares at you again. 

“Well I’m sure Jack appreciates it. Thank you.”

You nod and he looks like he might say something else, but he just grabs a bag of chips and moves to head back to the party. You move back towards the sink.

“You don’t have to do that”, he tells you. “The dishes, or tidying up - you’re a guest. Thank you for everything you’ve already cleaned. But you should enjoy the party”, he tells you before leaving the kitchen. 

You don’t want to go back outside yet so you clean what’s left in the sink and then walk back outside. Jack immediately spots you and makes his way over. 

“Thank you for the present”, he tells you. 

“You already said that”, you laugh. 

“Yeah, but my dad said I have to say it again properly”, he tells you seriously.

Oh. Had they talked about you just now?

“Well you’re welcome. I hope you like it”.

“I like it”, he grins. And then he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the BAU. 

Shit.

“Auntie Emily! Auntie Pen! Y/N is super awesome but she has no friends! You should be friends!”

Nononononono. 

The whole team stares at you and you feel yourself turn bright red. Thank God for foundation. You need to fix this, now.

“Jack, that’s um very nice of you, but-“

“What do you mean Jack?”, Emily asks. “She’s our friend already. We even sleep in the same room on trips. I don’t do that with non-friends”, she adds. She’s talking to him, but she looks at you. 

Thank God for Emily Prentiss. You shoot her a grateful look.

Jack looks at you sadly. “Does this mean we can’t be friends now? Because you already have grown up friends?”

“No way! Of course we’re still friends”, you tell him. Jack beams. He’s so cute, you think. You wish Hotch smiled this much.

“Ok! Then I’m going to play Star Wars now”, he tells you, running off. You’re immediately reminded that you’re standing beside your coworkers who are all grinning at you.

“I am so sorry-“, you start.

“She refuses to come out for drinks, doesn’t talk to us outside of work, but she tells a 5 year old that she needs help making friends”, Derek teases.

“I don’t need help making friends! I-“

“Name one time you willingly came for drinks with us”, Emily says.

You both know it’s none.

“I-“

“Leave the kid alone. She’s probably scared of all of you hounding her with all your questions”, Rossi chides. 

“This is so great!”, Penelope tells you. “I mean you’ve been avoiding us so we thought you didn’t want to be friends, or Strauss was telling you things about us, but if you’re just freaked out, we can be totally be normal!”

Spencer coughs. “That last part may prove difficult”.

Penelope smiles at you and lightly smacks him.

“So? You want to have drinks after this?”

You should say no. But Penelope was right. If you kept saying no, it sent the wrong message. You did like them.

“Ok”.

The group raises a glass to you and you smile. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

—————————

This was bad. When they said ‘have drinks’, you thought they meant at a bar, talking over drinks like colleagues. Turns out they meant drinking games and shots. At Hotch’s house. Post birthday party, which meant everyone was already a couple of drinks in when you started. 

“Truth or dare!”, JJ shouts.

“Dare!”, Penelope yells.

“I dare you to… wear one of Hotch’s ties and pretend to be him for the next round!”

Derek grins. “Good luck baby girl. Don’t let the boss man kill you.”

Penelope makes a point of furrowing her brows. “Don’t call me baby girl. That is inappropriate for the workplace”, she huffs in a deep voice. The whole table erupts in laughter. Then Emily turns to you. 

“Truth or dare!”

You’re not sure you can handle any questions at your level of inebriation.

“Dare”.

Emily looks like you’ve handed her a briefcase full of cash. Oh no.

“I dare you… to kiss the person this bottle lands on!”

God, if you’re there, help me, you think.

Hotch huffs. “Prentiss, she’s your junior, and we are not teenagers. That’s just harassment. Change the dare.”

Thank all that is holy.

Emily pouts. 

“Fine. I dare you to … handcuff yourself to the person the bottle lands on for the rest of the night. Except for when you go to the bathroom”.

What?

“Prentiss-“

“No! If she’s not comfortable, she’s capable for speaking for herself”, Emily says. “Right?”

You nod. You’re pretty much already sitting together with everyone - it won’t make much of a difference anyway.

“It’s fine.”

Emily beams and spins the bottle. I mean it might not be so bad. Being cuffed to Penelope or Spencer could be kind of funny.

“Hotch!”

You had to be cursed.

“Prentiss, this is -“

She ignores him and cuffs his wrist, and the other one to yours. 

“Okay! Now everyone give me your keys so they don’t secretly uncuff. I’ll keep them, so let me know when you need to use the bathroom”.

Hotch glares at her, but everyone hands her their key. Then they move on to bother the next person.

JJ moves over so that Hotch can sit next to you. You hadn’t realised how little space there was on the couch until it’s his thigh touching yours instead of hers.

“I’m sorry about this. Usually they’re less… chaotic”, Hotch tries to explain.

“That’s okay”, you tell him. 

It’s nice. The team reminds you of James, your best friend from your previous job at the Houston field office.

“Can Jack sleep with everyone shouting like this?”, you ask.

Hotch nods. “He’ll pretty much sleep anywhere if I tuck him in first.”

That’s sweet.

“He’s a great kid.”

“Thank you.”

You manage through the next few hours. It turns out that Hotch is a great conversationalist when forced to not ignore you. You’re actually enjoying the way the team somehow ropes him in to things because he’s not great at saying no to them. But it starts to get late. 

“Prentiss? Can you uncuff us please?”

Emily sways and giggles drunkenly. “You’re so nice and polite. Why can’t everyone else say please when they’re asking for things? Derek is rude”, she pouts. “And don’t call me Prentiss. It makes me feel old. Call me Emily.”

“Ok. Emily, please can you give me a key?”, you try again.

“What key?”

“To the handcuffs?”

“I don’t have a keys, I gave mine to Penelope”

What?

“Prentiss, this is not a joke. We all gave you ours. Just give us one”, Hotch scowls.

She leans in to whisper, but in her drunkenness it’s quite loud. “I don’t have any keys. But he’s so mad”. She looks at you excitedly. “Do you have a key?”

“No Emily. I gave you mine”, you tell her patiently. Hotch finds Penelope.

“Garcia! Prentiss says you have the keys to the handcuffs”. 

Penelope stares.

“No I don’t?”

“Emily?”

She looks devastated.

“That’s too bad. He looks mad. Hehe. Bad, mad”.

You and Hotch looks at each other in exasperation. 

“Do you have any spares?”, you ask. 

He shakes his head. 

“My spare is in my car, but I left it at the office yesterday”.

Neither of you can exactly drive to the office handcuffed. And everyone else is highly intoxicated. 

“So we have to just wait until they’re sober?”, you ask.

Hotch runs is free hand over his face.

“Unfortunately”.

You watch everyone else settle down in the spare bedrooms or go home. Then it’s just you and Hotch in the living room.

“I’m sorry, I’d offer to sleep on the couch, but…”, you both look at a happily sleeping Emily. “I’ve only got my bedroom left”.

“Oh.”

“Or we could not sleep? Just drink coffee and wait for… however long it takes them to get up?”, he offers. 

That’s not going to work at all. You don’t function well after staying up all night. Or after too much coffee.

“No, it’s fine. We should sleep and I’m sure you’re tired after the party today”, you tell him. 

“Okay”.

You both reluctantly make your way up the stairs. He offers you a toothbrush and you both brush your teeth in silence. You can’t exactly change handcuffed, so you get into bed with your regular clothes. Hotch turns off the light and you both lie there in the dark. 

“Good night”, you say quietly.

“Good night”, he says back. 

Somehow you both fall asleep.

————————————

You wake up to the smell of cologne and a soft fabric pressed to your face. It’s warm, and you snuggle into it to get closer. Then you feel something poke your shoulder. You blink open your eyes to see big brown eyes on a tiny face. 

“Are you and daddy friends now?”

What?

You look up and see that the warm thing you’re cuddling is actually your boss. You immediately yank yourself back, but forget the handcuff. It yanks him on top of you and the jerking movement makes him wake up.

“What?”, he mumbles sleepily.

Then he realises what’s going on and tries to scramble away.

“Oh, I am so sorry-“

“No, I forgot we were handcuffed and I pulled too hard-“

“That’s my fault-“

“Dad can I have pancakes?”, Jack asks.

You both turn to look at him.

“Of course buddy. I’ll be right down. Can you give daddy 5 minutes?”

“Okay”.

Jack saunters out of the room.

Hotch groans. “I am going to kill Prentiss”.

You giggle, but the sentiment is pretty much the same. 

“Let’s go find her”.

It turns out Emily had hidden the handcuffs under a plant “to be safe” and she apologises profusely as she uncuffs you both. 

“Next time I say no to a dare, it means no”, Hotch tells her.

“Okay”, she tells him. And then looks at you and grabs your hands in supplication. “I am so so sorry. Please forgive me. And don’t let this stop you from going out with us next time, because I promise it’s usually not as bad”.

Hotch glowers at her from beside you. But he seems pleased that at least you’ve been apologised to.

“I have to make breakfast for my son, so go home, or help set the table”, he tells her. 

She rolls her eyes at you.

“Yes sir”.

Hotch stomps away.

Emily and you lock eyes and start giggling. 

Maybe having friends in the BAU won’t be so bad.

Chapter 3

[bekkathyst]

This month and the next couple of months are really going to be crunch time for me. I need to clear out all older inventory, focus on growing my customer base (esp local/European customers) and get in a new shipment. I have to make up for all the lost time from being sick so much last year (it ended up wiping out almost half my income).

We have to go renew Antonio’s residency permit in a few months and I need to basically double our income before then to show them, so I’m in super hustle mode until then. Antonio has also been looking for a local job and when he finds one he’ll be less involed in the shop, but it’s been difficult because no one likes to hire in the winter here and his German skills are limited so I’m just doing what I can myself. This never gets easier it’s so insanely stressful knowing that one random government worker can just kick him out of the country despite having a wife and kid here and it makes me really mad whenever I have to think about it.

I’m just letting you all know in advance because you’re probably going to be seeing more of my posts. I used to do sales weekly and I don’t plan to go back to that, but I’ll have to figure out something better.

I’m going to try out doing live sales on TikTok and maybe again on Instagram, just to see if that can gather some new people as well.

I’m also going to offer custom wire wraps and possibly open up the option for custom copper jewelry as well.

I am aiming to open a physical shop here next year and I have debt to clear out first and then I need to save up several thousands in order to rent a storefront (sometime I can talk about the insane realtor fees they charge here for renting and how you have to pay some rando like 3,000 euros just because they’re facilitating the signing of a contract but I’ll save that for another post lol)

I am deeply motivated to improve the circumstances here and I owe it to my family to keep trying to fix this and make things better because I moved us here. So that’s what I’m going to keep trying to do. If you read my rant, thank you for the support 🙏 I appreciate it so much when you all share my work and my shop, and I’m going to take some better pictures for posts that can be shared! 💜

[rustbeltjessie]

I haven’t made a pinned post in a while, but since it’s my birthday month and I’m struggling right now, I figured it’s a good time to make one.

First, let me introduce myself. I’m Jessie Lynn McMains, aka Rust Belt Jessie. I’m a writer (poetry and prose), artist, zine-maker, spoken word performer, occasional musician, small press publisher, and general jack of several creative trades. I’m queer—bi/mspec and nonbinary (I use they/them, she/her, and he/him pronouns). I’m disabled and neurodivergent, and the parent of two kiddos. Politically? Well, I consider myself an anarchist at heart, but I still vote in every election. I think everyone should be able to have enough food, and a safe place to live, and yeah, even a few ‘unnecessary,’ fun things, just by virtue of being alive. As for the rest of my beliefs, you can probably garner a general idea if you peruse my blog even a little.

Now, onto the nitty-gritty. We had about ten days between when our last month’s food money ran out and when this month’s came in. It has been refilled as of today, so I don’t have to worry about that for the moment, but because of that gap, I had to spend money I’d set aside for other stuff on food. I paid our rent and energy bill for the month, but I’m a couple months overdue on our Internet bill, and I don’t want to risk that getting shut off. And then, well, it’s December. I’m trying to buy my kids some Christmas presents, and it’s not just my birthday month—my youngest kiddo’s birthday is four days before Christmas. Because of all this, I’m also way behind on writing stuff. I owe my zine subscribers a new issue (I didn’t send anything at all in November), and I’m trying to finish up some pieces to record for my new spoken word EP, but I’ve had to focus on day job and side-hustle stuff that’s more immediately lucrative, so I haven’t been able to dedicate much time to finishing these projects.

If you’d like to throw some $$ my way so I can get some gifts for my kiddos, keep my Internet on, get back to my writing, and maybe have a less-stressful birthday month than I did last year, I have V*nmo (JessieLynnMcMains) and P*yp*l (coeur.de.fantome [at] gmail[dot]com).

But hey, hey, I’m not just asking for something for nothing! I have a lot of stuff available on Ko-fi (rustbeltjessie), including print books and zines, ebooks and zines, and pins, and you can also hire me as an editor or commission a custom mini-collage. And almost everything is sliding scale/pay-what-you-can, some with a minimum price, others starting at $0.

And that zine subscription? It’s still not too late to get in on it, even though the year is almost over. If you sign up now, you’ll receive all previous issues, along with this month’s when it’s finished, and the final two will be mailed out in January.

Or perhaps you’d like to buy or commission something I don’t officially have for sale. Maybe you’d like to buy one of my existing pieces of art? Or commission a custom pin, designed by me, based on the band/film/fandom/whatever of your choice? Or commission a custom postcard poem/art piece, on the subject of your choice? Or have me write you a custom mini-zine, on the subject of your choice? I can do all those things! DM me, and we’ll work something out!

Oh, and I mentioned above that I was working on a new spoken word EP? Go check out my full-length spoken word album, Self-Portrait With Ghosts and Trains, which was released by Hello America Stereo Cassette in July 2021. You can find it at helloamerica.bandcamp.com. (I do get royalties from that release periodically, but it’s not as immediate as if you purchase something directly from me.)

All that said, I know times are tough for most people right now, so please don’t feel obligated to purchase anything or otherwise send money my way. And, as always, even just a few dollars helps, as does reblogging/boosting this post. 🖤

[allwaswell16]

🔔 It's December! That means it's One Direction Advent fic season! Advent fics are generally posted daily from December 1 to December 24/25. Don't forget you can subscribe to the author to get a daily email reminder to read their Advent fic! 🔔

🌟 Baking In December by Itstilliswhatitis

Louis can't believe it! His sisters signed him up for a competition at some bakery and they won! Now he has to spend every day of December baking something with a random dude. Except, the random dude is named Harry and he's hot! Louis realises that this Christmas might be extra special!

🎁 Be Merry All by @justanothershadeofblue {Fic post}

there is a specific sort of oppression that comes with a miserable so-cal christmas, when it’s dark and dirty and rainy or else it's too hot and too bright and everyone’s hustling, and your family is all far away and the laundry machines in your building are broken and you’ve eaten too much take-out and all you want is two seconds of quiet and maybe a morsel of holiday joy.

🕯️ Can I Fly Home by @sadaveniren {Fic post}

“Nothing? A seventy-eight year old woman just gave birth. It’s clearly supernatural stuff at work. How could you say no?” “No.” “Come on, the mystery has to be getting to you just a little.” “Granny being horny isn’t a mystery, Lou. We’re supposed to be on a break until the new year. The real mystery is why you aren’t content to just stay in one place. We’ve hunted everything imaginable to hunt.” “And yet weird shit still ends up happening, fancy that.” He saw Louis change tactics, sticking out his lower lip, pleading. “Please? Check it out with me and then maybe we’ll come back here for Christmas.” AKA Louis and Harry have been hunting together since they were teenagers and it's beginning to take a toll. Harry wants to retire. Louis plans to die hunting. Maybe a "Christmas Miracle" is just what they need. An advent fic.

🦌 Christmas Advent Calendar by enchantedlandcoffee / @alarrylittlechristmas {Fic post}

A collection of holiday drabbles written and posted leading up to Christmas. One posted per day.

🥁 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 {Fic post}

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

⛄ the holiday remix - choose ur adventure advent series by warmcuppatea / @hlplease {Fic post}

“I love you so much, yeah? And we’ve talked about moving in together when my lease ends. And we’ll be spending so much time together for the holidays, and you know, we get on so smashingly-” “Louis-” Harry laughed. “Spit it out!” “-So I was thinking,” Louis laughed, rubbing his face. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m so nervous!” He laughed. “I was thinking we should test-run living together this month.” Harry and Louis are very in love, but moving in together feels huge. So, naturally, Louis has the idea to do a holiday test-run.

🔔I'll Be Home For Christmas by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {Fic post}

Harry's life seems to be going well. He has a great job working at Festive Furnishings, he has an amazing three year old son called Danny, and his favourite time of the year is approaching. Just as Harry thinks everything is finally going to plan, he finds out that he is going to be losing his home just before Christmas. Louis Tomlinson is happy enough with his lot. He's the CEO of a company he started years ago, Festive Furnishings, he has great colleagues, especially his assistant Harry, and he has the best nephew in the world. But the thing is, Louis is lonely. He has a beautiful house but it's too quiet, especially at this time of year. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. While struggling to find somewhere warm and safe for himself and Danny to stay, Harry makes a decision that might just change the course of everything... and bring himself and Louis closer together as well...

🍪 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {Fic post}

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on now, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype. It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

 🎄 kay's 25 days of smutmas by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow {Fic post}

Starting on December 1st, I will be posting a new smut fic everyday until Christmas! These are all one shots of varying lengths and content. As they are posted, I will add the links to this post, summaries and lengths will be included under the break! All fics will be Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson.

💌 Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 {Fic post}

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

❤️ Love Actually [L.S.] by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass {Fic post}

Louis Tomlinson has just became Prime Minister of the UK. Harry Styles is a housekeeper at 10 Downing Street. Louis can't help but be enthralled with Harry. But, unfortunately, love has a funny of fucking punching you in the gut.

🎅 Neondiamond's 2023 Christmas Ficlet Party {Fic post}

If you know me at all, you’ll know that two of the things I enjoy most are writing fluffy ficlets, and Christmas. This year, I decided to combine the two and create my own little Christmas ficlet party all throughout December! 8 ficlets, 4 different pairings, many different tropes—all short, fluffy and festive! Perfect for a quick reading break with a warm drink!

☃️ Snow In Love by @lululawrence {Fic post}

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny. People thought they were already dating. Weird. An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

🌲 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {Fic post}

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

🔔 they're singing 'deck the halls' (but it's not like christmas at all) by doesanyonehearrunningwotah

Louis Tomlinson is no fan of Christmas. Between his douchebag ex-husband/co-parent, his two teenage kids, and the awful fact of his torn-apart family, the holiday season isn't looking to be all that festive. But maybe a boy's trip with his closest friends will lead him to something that'll make the season a little more bearable. Or the one where Louis' a bit of a grinch, Harry's a gorgeous present, and there's more weight to the past than either of them would like.

❄️ We Can Roll in the Darkness by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {Fic post}

Top and Bottom Construction Co. - “We’ll get the job done, however you prefer it!” Louis looks up from the flyer, and back at Niall. “You must be joking?” Niall shakes his head, his mischievous grin only going wider. “Nope! I already researched them. They have glowing reviews AND they’re affordable. It’s perfect!” He pauses then to give Louis a cheeky wink. “Besides their website says they’re full service.” (Or the one where Louis and his best mate Niall decide to take the plunge and open a pub. The goal is to open Christmas Day, but the building renovations are proving trickier than expected. Insert: a construction company with a questionable name, a certain curly haired builder who catches Louis’ attention, and a little festive chaos along the way).

✨ You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Fic post}

Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is. Oh, and the guy who works in conservation at the other end of the building is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen, even when wielding a hot iron as a weapon. Happy Christmas, here's to many more.

[winchester-24]

Imagine You couldn’t save everyone on the last hunt, and Dean is there for you.

You and the boys had been tailing this Shtriga for two weeks. You would get close to it, then it would escape, and then it would hop somewhere different. It has already put a total of 14 kids in the hospital, and you were hoping it would be greedy and try to get one more kid before it disappeared again for who knows how long. It was now in a small town and had already taken the younger sibling of two girls, and you are betting it would be going after the oldest tonight.

At the motel room, you, Dean, and Sam were finishing up packing the gear you wanted to take and going over the plan one more time. You were acting as a detective earlier that day and were able to set a camera up in the girl’s room. You three would sneak in and wait for the Shtriga to come and then kill it before it could escape again. Everyone was on edge; this thing has been escaping you guys for the past two weeks, but everyone is determined not to let it get away this time.

“You okay?” Dean asks as you look out the motel window, lost in your thoughts as they load up the car. You turned to your boyfriend of just about six months and smiled at him.

“I’m good; I just really want to get this son of a bitch and go home.” Dean came over and wrapped his arms around you and then gave you a quick kiss on the lips, which you returned to him immediately. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he hugged you.

“We will get him, and then 15 kids will wake up, and we will get to celebrate a job well done.” You smiled at him before Sam coughed and muttered, “We are good to go.” You giggled and kissed Dean one more time before hurrying out to the Impala after Sam.

Hours after you guys arrived at the house, you finally noticed movement in the window. You hit Dean softly on the arm and pointed to where you were seeing the Shtriga. All three of you took the safety off of your guns and were waiting for it to start feeding. Your heart was beating, and nerves were beginning to kick in. There was an 11-year-old girl in the room, and her safety was a top priority. Your job was to get to her while Sam and Dean would shoot at the Shtriga. You would have to crawl quickly, but you would be able to make sure she stayed down and out of harm's way.

Dean squeezed your hand before letting go and slowly standing up, and you and Sam followed suit. You were the first to go in that way. You didn’t have these two men blocking you from getting to the girl. You three watched as the Shtriga began feeding.

“Now, now!” Dean whispered and yelled. You hustled to the door, slammed it open, and quickly dropped to the floor to get to the girl. The Shtriga looked up as Sam and Dean let off rounds. The girl screamed, and you pulled her down to the ground with you.

“It’s okay; I’m going to get you out of here.” You say to the shaking girl. “I need you to stay low to the ground and crawl with me, okay?” The girl crying nodded, and you two began to make your way across the room. Something grabbed your ankle and pulled you back; you let out a little scream and tried to turn to face what was pulling you.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled. You tried to kick at the Shtriga, but it wouldn’t let go of you. It grabbed your shirt and flew you against the wall. Your vision got hazy as you hit your head. You heard the little girl scream for her dad while you tried to stand up. Between trying to focus your vision back, you see Dean on the other side of the room groaning, holding his side, and Sam knocked out by the door. You see the Shtriga quickly move towards the little girl, pin her down, and start to retake her life force. You groan and try to get up quickly.

You hear a new voice. “Hey! Get off my daughter!” The dad comes in, trying to push the Shtriga off of his daughter, who takes hold of his shirt and flings him into the other room. You hear a bunch of clattering and hope the dad is okay.

On your feet, you yell for the Shtriga gun already raised. “Hey, bitch!” You yell. The Shtriga slightly turns towards you, still feeding on the girl. You shoot. The Shtriga’s head jerks back as you shoot straight in the forehead, and it stumbles away from the girl and falls on its back on the floor. You run to the girl and immediately put your fingers to her neck, trying to find a pulse. It’s faint. You let out a shaky breath; she is safe. You look up to Dean to celebrate this, but he isn’t in the room. You look around frantically, thinking something happened that you missed, but you catch a glimpse of him in the other room. He is kneeling by the girl's father. A pit forms in your stomach. He looks up and makes eye contact with you, then shakes his head. Fuck.

The ride back to the hotel room was quiet. The death of the father weighs on everyone. For you, you take it personally more than the boys. It was your job to get the girl to safety. If you did your job and got her out of the room like you were supposed to, then there was no reason for the dad to be there. He would be holding his little girl right now instead of a paramedic trying to tell her that her dad is never coming back. Were you being irrational with yourself? Of course. But this is what you do. You take it personally when you can’t save everyone- especially families. Dean’s jaw was clenched the entire time back to the motel; you knew he was upset. You couldn't guess whether he was upset at you or the hunt in general, but if you were him, you would be mad at you, too. You messed this up; you couldn’t do the one thing you were supposed to do, and a father paid the price. Sam kept glancing at Dean and you. He was upset, but he knows how you and Dean are when a hunt is not perfect. You either take it out on each other or yourselves. Sometimes both.  It was one of the many things you had in common, but this trait was the most toxic one you two shared. He was waiting for the bomb to blow because the fuse had already been set.

Dean got out of the Impala quickly and quietly. Sam waited a second to see if you would do the same, but when you didn’t, he turned around to face you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked you. You looked up at him.

“No, Sammy, I’m good.” He knew arguing with you would get nowhere, so he just nodded his head and got out. You sat there for a few minutes alone in silence, letting the demons take over your thoughts about how you fucked this up. It was your fault that family is torn apart now and that their lives are changed for the worse because you couldn’t manage to kick an old hag’s hand off of your ankle. You tilted your head back, not daring to let one tear fall, and let out a shaky breath. You closed your eyes, trying to regulate yourself, when the back door on the other side of the impala opened. You smelt him before he was even in the car.

Dean slid in the back and looked at you. There was tension as you both waited to see if this would be a conversation or an argument. You made the first move.

“I fucked up, I know.” You said, finally looking over at him. His gaze on you was intense as if he were trying to read you to figure out what he needed to be and do at that moment. When you said that, his gaze softened, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t on you.” He said.

“It was my job to get her out of there. If I had done my job right, the dad would have never come into that room,” you said.

“You don’t know that; he could have come back in there to try to take care of the three intruders in his house for all we know. He was protecting his child, something any good father would do.” You looked out the window and mumbled.

“It’s our job to protect them.” Dean grabbed your hand, and when you didn’t pull away, he laced your fingers together. You looked back over at him, tears threatening to spill, but you'll be damned if you are weak right now; you don’t deserve it.

“I know I’m a hypocrite saying this because I do the same thing,” Dean started, “but we can't save everyone; you did everything that you could do at that moment, and when you didn’t get up at first, I was scared for a moment that you hit your head a little too hard, and I lost concentration on what we were there for. My only thought was to get to you and ensure you were okay. I could have grabbed the girl and taken her out, but in my moment of weakness, it grabbed me and threw me. I am as much to blame for that father as you and Sam. We take this blame together, learn from it, and move on. You are a damn good hunter, but it's insanity to think that we can save everyone from everything.”

You let one tear slip, then another, then another, until you were full-on crying but not daring to make a sound.

“Oh, baby,” Dean said, pulling you to him. He twisted himself on the seat so you could lean your head in his chest as he held you close. He rubbed your back with his hand as he kissed the top of your head. You two sat there in this position until the tears stopped, and the only thing you could hear was each other’s breathing. You looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You said as you wiped your runny nose with your sleeve. He gave you a soft smile.

“I know I’m not perfect, but I promise I’m always going to be here for you, sweetheart. You mean everything to me.” You leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on his lips.

“Let's go inside and get some rest, okay?” You say as you scoot away from him. He nods his head, and you both get out. You meet at the front of the Impala, where he grabs and holds your hand as you walk to the motel room.

Not every hunt will be perfect, but at least you have the best comforter to help you through it.

[tacticiandrafts]

Source D'espoir ; Kunikida Doppo

Using your ability pushes you to exhaustion. Which Agency detective will take pity on you?

Having successfully completed a solo job, you were expected back at the Agency to report the day’s happenings. Unfortunately, the journey there was becoming increasingly more arduous as your legs wobbled beneath you. You nearly passed out standing up in the elevator but somehow managed to pull yourself out as you reached the fourth floor.  

“I’m back,” you called, tired eyes surveying the office.

Ranpo cheered around a lollipop, probably saying ‘welcome back’. Naomi shot a bright smile in your direction and Atsushi waved. Kunikida grunted without turning around, evidently hustling to stay on schedule as his fingers tapped away urgently on his keyboard. 

You made your way toward your desk at a snail’s pace, wondering how you were going to convince him to take a break. That probably wouldn’t happen, so instead you sat down and stared straight ahead with bleary eyes, attempting to summon the mental fortitude to either eat or finish your work. You heard a panicked squeak and realized that you were squinting aggressively at Atsushi. Well, time to give up.

You paused for a moment, then folded over in your seat and slipped your head under Kunikida’s arms, resting on his lap. He sputtered a bit.

“You were gone for less than two hours. You can’t possibly be this tired,” he groaned.

“The job actually took me an hour. But then I wanted to try a new place for lunch and I ran into a shootout.” Your words were muffled as you turned your face into his leg.

“Was it the Port Mafia?” Atsushi’s eyes widened sympathetically.

“Mhm…I think the restaurant was a front for a rival gang…that old guy from the Port Mafia walked in right behind me and raided it before I could even order…” You whined as Kunikida started grinding his knuckles into the top of your head, irritated. “Kunikida,” you cried, “I’m so hungry!”

“Stop making it my problem and go do something about it,” he insisted roughly, but he made no move to push you away.

Tomorrow, you’d definitely be embarrassed by your clingy behavior. You tended to be quiet and cool-headed, but using your ability often tired you out to the extreme. Your fatigue obscured your typically reserved behavior, and every once in a while you ended up bothering Kunikida like this.

You felt slightly guilty for interrupting his workflow, but you really needed help and you only wanted it from him. Kunikida flung harsh words at you, but his motherly instincts betrayed him. No one else would have let you get away with this much, opting to send you to the couch before you had the chance to complain.

You sat up for a moment to grab his arm, stopping him from attacking your head and pinning it beneath you as you laid back down. “I have two reports to write now, but I wasted all my energy…”

He groaned, slamming his book of ideals down on the desk and pulling you up with him. 

“Oh?” Dazai’s eyes glinted as he strode in. “How forward of you, Kunikida!”

You felt his chest puff with rage as he shouted at Dazai to stop wandering around and get your work done! You craned your neck a bit to watch his ears turn red as he began dragging you into the kitchen, ordering you to sit still.  

You stayed silent, staring at his back as he rummaged through the fridge and started ranting. He was no doubt scolding you into oblivion, but you barely heard what he was saying.

“You’re the only person I know who’s so incompetent that you can’t even control your own ability. And if you weren’t so responsible most of the time, I’d tear you a new one for acting like such a damn baby when you’re tired. I already have to deal with that shitty waste of bandages coming in late every day, so why do I have to deal with you and your moods too?!” 

You sighed contentedly. Kunikida missed the happy note in your voice.

“Good,” he sighed back, “you should feel remorseful.”

Your satisfied smile grew wider as you rested your head on the kitchen counter, closing your eyes to the sound of his voice lecturing you on nutrition. 

Ranpo passed through for a moment, digging through the cupboards for a snack. He snickered at the sight of your smile as you dozed off, noting the affectionate, dutiful tone that Kunikida often took with you. Fukuzawa had been looking for you a moment before, but he supposed he could keep his mouth shut. You’d owe him a soda later.

[onlymurdersintheafterparty]

OMITB S4:E6 “Blow Up”

YOU GUYS I AM SHOOK. THIS EPISODE WAS A WHOLE ROLLERCOASTER AND SINCE THE EPISODE ENDED MENTALLY I FEEL LIKE I’VE STEPPED OFF THE RIDE WITH MY LEGS FEELING LIKE JELLY

There are so many things to unpack that I’m just going to focus on the top 2 moments that had me shook and then a new theory after the reveal in the last few minutes of the episode.

Spoilers Ahead (I’m serious watch the episode first because of all the episodes to get spoiled this one will really have you messed up)

“I’m Watching You” / Double Murders

This is what had me mentally screaming because what do you mean Dudenoff has been dead this entire time and Sazz was right about there being another murderer in the building?! And the handwriting in the texted pic is the same as the one in the first season that appeared before Winnie was poisoned. Now before this episode a LOT of people theorized this very plot about a unsolved murder or cold case so I’m sure they feel vindicated after this episode. Many people think that it’s Lester who is the mastermind and I’m sure are even more suspicious now because he used to be an actor while others think it’s Uma. I agree with the first group and think it's Lester and I think his accomplice is Marshall P. Pope the writer.

Evidence Against Lester

He was homeless and out of work when he started working at The Arconia; After being hired he could have met Dudenoff in the lobby at some point and while talking film/acting, he could have mentioned being homeless and was brought into the $200 rent scheme and temporarily lived in the West Wing; It would also give him free reign of The Arconia after hours

As doorman, he has access to the different units; delivering the wrong mail gives him a chance to snoop or bug apartments because anyone passing him in the halls will just assume he's doing his job

As an actor, he could have worked with or was taught by Dudenoff

His son is an actor and Lester paid for the classes so where did the extra money come from?

He could be resentful of Charles because he's a successful actor living in a fancy building meanwhile he's stuck as a doorman; Charles being awkward could have been read as rudeness adding to that resentment (Vince thought Charles hated him because of their awkward window encounters)

People constantly bring up Lester returning Charles' hat in season one and it makes me wonder if he's ever impersonated Charles. They both have white hair, I'm not sure about the similarity in physical builds and height because of Lester's uniform and hat, but I've always had a sneaking suspicion someone has been posing as Charles here and there; Plus Charles doesn't really interact with his neighbors like that so if Lester disguised himself as Charles and wore a hat and hid his face no one would know or be shocked at him not saying hi back. And because Charles is friends with Oliver and Mabel, that would allow him to bug their apartments as well because they'd expect Charles to randomly visit his friends

In the 70s after the brothel got shut down, I'm sure the rent prices dropped drastically making it affordable for Dudenoff to purchase the entire floor

Lester killing Dudenoff would give him access to all those apartments and with the money from his side hustle, he can afford to pay off the police or whoever else he needs to keep the trio off his trail

Being homeless would have allowed him to meet some interesting people and if the alcoholism ever led to him serving any period of jail time he could have met criminals that became friends and allies to help do footwork behind the scenes over the past few seasons

This could also be how he got access to the poison in the attempt to kill Winnie

He could have killed Dudenoff out of revenge because he was promised a role that was rescinded or in a parallel to Ben and Charles, he was unfairly fired and held a grudge

Evidence Against Marshall

The biggest theory is that Marshall stole someone's script. I do agree with this theory but I don't think it was Sazz he stole it from, I think it was Lester

Marshall is a fan of the podcast so maybe at some point between seasons he went to go see the Arconia for himself; To get inside he'd have to go through Lester; If they got to talking about the podcast and films/screenwriting in general, Lester who was already spying on the trio could have by then written a film script in hopes of making a comeback; Lester has no connections from being out of work so he and Marshall come up with some sort of deal where Marshall will pitch the script and get Lester cast in the film;

Was Marshall a student of Dudenoff as well? That could be another connection between the two and instead of visiting The Arconia for the podcast he could have been in town to visit Dudenoff and bonded with Lester over that

Marshall knows how to do disguises but who could he impersonate that would actually be believable? I have no clue

If Marshall and Lester are accomplices there's a chance Marshall will be killed off before the season is over in an attempt to keep him from telling the truth

Dudenoff's Students:

Trina and Tawny

Vince Fish

Rudy Thurber

Sauce Family (unconfirmed)

Helga (unconfirmed)

Lester (unconfirmed)

Marshall (unconfirmed)

Other Observations:

I think Jan knows who the killer is and that’s why she went into hiding after escaping prison. As long as she’s lived in the Arconia I’m sure she’s seen some stuff plus game recognizes game so if she encountered another killer I’m sure she’d suspect it.

If Oliver is the second one targeted I wonder if Mabel is next; Jan did say that the killer would keep trying until they get it right

I don't think Howard is the Moriarty anymore and that it's definitely Lester

The Right Westie = Weird, Struggling Actors; The Westies pride themselves on being weird, outcasts and 2/5 are confirmed actors; Helga may have been run off or been paid off to leave and threatened to stay silent because she discovered Lester was impersonating Dudenoff and witnessed him cashing the checks

My attempt at an outline of what all went down with Lester & Dudenoff:

???? Lester becomes homeless and loses acting jobs because of alcoholism

???? Lester gets a job at The Arconia

???? Dudenoff teaches Rudy & Vince at some point

2011 Trina and Tawny meet Dudenoff in his film class; Notice that at first they're only filmed from the back and when we see through Dudenoff's lens, we only see what's within the lens so if the killer was in attendance they weren't seen onscreen

2012 Dudenoff gives the twins his cameras

2018* Dudenoff is killed (three years prior to pilot)

*the twins say the last time they spoke to him was three years ago and that he cut off communication because they moved to LA; Just because they didn't hear from him doesn't mean he actually died 3 years ago; No body = no way of checking the time of death

2021-2022 The trio's apartments are bugged at some point

Remaining Questions:

Who is the person in the Westie group pic with the scratched out face?

How long have the apartments been bugged?

If Dudenoff is dead, who has been impersonating him when addressing new tenants?

Does Dudenoff having replacement joints mean he was a stuntman as well? That would be yet another example of double identities this season

How long was the incinerator broken?

How long has Lester worked at The Arconia?

If Vince's pink eye is so contagious how did Eugene and Charles not get it despite being in close proximity?

If I missed anything from the first 2 seasons or got something wrong please let me know because I need my info as accurate as possible to figure this all out lol

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Nine | Where it all started…

Dom was gone when I woke up alone in the hotel bed. It wasn’t until I looked at my phone that I saw his text saying he went to the gym with buddies. My heart sank deeper into my chest knowing that I couldn’t be around every second of every day just to prevent anymore slip ups.

Me: I’m gonna go explore the shops. Text me when you’re done.

I didn’t expect a response, I don’t know what I expected as I stared down at my phone. Finally managing to get dressed I grabbed my bag and headed out of the hotel. Asking the front desk to direct me to the shops in walking distance. 

Leaving the hotel I headed for the shops breezing in and looking around before I bumped into someone. Immediately backing away I realized it was Randy. Setting off every alarm inside of me I quickly walked away only for him to follow me.

“I’m not pressing charges against Dom. It’s part of the job, shit gets blurred.” He shouted trying to catch up to me.

Stopping I turned around, glaring at him, “Press charges? He did nothing wrong.”

“My busted lip says otherwise, sweetheart.”

I wanted to roll my eyes but I crossed my arms. “He defended me, he did exactly what any man would do and looks like he did it well.” I smiled and snickered to myself knowing Dominik had managed to go toe-to-toe with a veteran in WWE.

Randy swiftly ate the space between us and locked his hand around my wrist. “We both know he’s a little boy and you need a man. When are you going to realize it? He has. Why else is he looking for a naïve pussy?”

“Let go of me.” Demanding, I pulled my wrist back and I could feel people watching us. I needed to leave before someone took it the wrong way entirely. 

Leaving Randy in the middle of the store I hustled back to the hotel. Dom was exiting the passenger seat of a white SUV when I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder. “Hey. Slow down. What’s wrong?”

Trying to collect myself I looked down at myself, “Nothing. Just some fans I wanted to avoid.”

Following close behind me into the hotel, he whispered into my ear while we waited for the elevator to recall. “You can tell me if you got revenge. He’d jump at the chance to have you.”

“Is that what you want? For someone else to touch me?” I asked Dom in the elevator even though his friend stood across from us. “Does that make us even?”

“Stop. Don’t fucking do that. I would kill someone for touching you. That’s not the point. I deserve whatever makes you forgive me. Including getting even.” He said it with a new step each word until I was pressed against the railing. “If that’s my punishment then I have to deal.”

“You touched her, kissed her, she touched you. Her fucking mouth was on your dick, Dom. I can’t make it stop from playing on a loop. Just tell me who it was.”

“Does that make it better, knowing who it was, mi amore?” His hands touched my body and his mouth found my ear. All of the sexual tension we needed the first night I was here seemed to bloom in the aftermath.

We were both jealous people.

“Yes, I want to know who you choose instead of me.” The words hurt to say but I said them anyway. 

“Not instead of you… because I couldn’t have you.” His voice filled my ear and his friend got off on his floor. “It’s never enough. I always need you.”

I wanted that to matter, to change things but it didn’t. No amount of desire changed him having her.

Forcing him out of the elevator I waited for him to open the door in front of me. His arms snaked around me and his body against my back. Once we were instead I kicked off my shoes and his body rushed me from behind, pushing my hair to one side and covering my neck in kisses. 

“I can’t stop picturing it. In a bed, backstage, in the shower. I can’t stop picturing her or you being hard for her.” I whimpered as my lip quivered and my body ached for him after months of him being gone.

“Tell me what to do. Tell me what fixes this,” he begged me to find a way to let this go. 

“I don’t know, Dom.”

“That’s bullshit. I took your virginity then you pretended to fuck every guy in our high school but I dealt with it. I watched every guy’s hands touch you exactly how you wouldn’t let me.”

“None of that was real, I told you that. I just wanted you to get over me. You deserved better than someone your family took pity on, who was beaten for stupid shit like smiling. None of it was real.” I pleaded with him, fisting the material of his hoodie as he swayed anxiously. He had finally told me everything except who it was and now he was stuck on me wanting revenge when all I wanted was to forget.

“Look pretty fucking real when you were riding Blaine in the hot tub. His fucking hands - all over you. That shit played in my mind for months. Why do you think our football team went to championships? It gave me a reason.” His fists were balled up and his features twisted up in anger. 

[ flashback ]

I knew exactly what he was talking about. I used my then boyfriend, Blaine, to force Dom to hate me. His parents went on vacation leaving us there alone, with his sister and the occasional check from a neighbor. We threw a party with a decent amount but certainly not a rager by any means. 

There were shots and a girl who really liked Dom, Maria. She never did anything to me but every chance she got I watched her flirt with him and it drove me mad. 

Finally, four shots in and my skimpiest bikini I dragged Blaine into the hot tub. My nipples barely covered and my bottoms a thong that showed off my ass. 

He sat down, looking me over in the water steaming when I found Dom laughing in a crowd. I couldn’t tell if he was looking the way I wanted until Blaine’s hands pulled me into his lap. Willingly I straddled him and let his mouth kiss my skin when I untied my bikini top entirely. That was when Dom and I locked eyes and I watched him stand up from his seat like he was going to snap.

Everyone, including Dom, could see my tits that night. Letting my top drop from my hand on the concrete stones outside the hot tub I let Blaine touch me, grope me, toy with me just to piss Dom off. 

Marie was innocent in all our rage when he grabbed her and their mouths collided. That night they became boyfriend-girlfriend for more months than I care to admit. I got what I wanted, to force him to move on, but it felt so cheap. 

Every day we poked the bear, exchanging snarky remarks and insults. We both let the tension turn us mean.

The next morning Dom came into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth before school when he saw me there in my thong leaning over the sink. “Can you ever wear fucking clothes?”

My boobs were visible in the sheer white top and my nipples were hard just knowing he was looking. “Maybe stop looking, perv. I saw you watching Blaine and I last night.” 

“Pretty sure everyone was watching. Hard not to when you’re acting like a slut in the hot tub.” He shot back.

Jumping up on the shared counter space with our own sinks I slowly pushed my legs apart while making sure I stared at him. “Why do you care? I saw you all over Marie. Not my problem if she doesn’t put out.”

Strutting between my legs I held my breath waiting for the insult in his boxer briefs and plain shirt. “Shut the fuck up. She’s a good girl.”

“And I wasn’t when you fucked me, Dom?”

His mouth was so close to mine I felt every reserve I had dwindle. “You sure as fuck aren’t now, sweetheart. Fucking Blaine in front of everyone? Makes you a slut.”

“And somehow you’re here complaining about me instead of fucking your girlfriend.” Pushing him back I slipped down between him and the counter. Pushing the small strings on either side I worked my panties down my legs, bare from the waist down. Teasing him the way I knew would push every button I put there. “What now, Dom?”

“You’re such a bitch.”

Twisting around I locked eyes on him in the mirror, pushing my ass against his crotch and tempting him into making a mistake with me.

“I don’t fucking share. You know that.” He retorted gruffly, “I don’t want second hand pussy.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Dom. You’d rather fuck me than your own girlfriend.” Rubbing my ass into his crotch I let myself exhale into a soft moan. The rigidness of his cock pressed up against me and I lost control. I just wanted to torture him for forcing me to watch their making out last night and now I really wanted him.

“I rather fuck a brick wall than have you regret it an hour later. We shouldn’t be together, remember?”

Pivoting I hopped on the counter top again, grabbing his shirt and willing him further between my legs. “Just lie to me, Dom. Nothing compares to us.”

Stiffening up I let my mouth fall open and my knees graze his hips. “I wouldn’t know, I barely remember what we did, Mami.” His hand brushed down my shoulder, over my chest, before walking away. Leaving me there breathless for him. “Next time your have Blaine in my house and you’re topless, I’ll break his fucking face, sweetheart.”

I believed him because all I wanted to do was ruin his relationship with Maria the same way.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

His Healer

Pairing: Mob!Loki Laufeyson x Nurse!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: fixing an injured loki, mentions of al capone, fluff mostly

Summary: Your paying job is working as a nurse in a local hospital. Your side hustle is being a doctor for the mob boss, Loki.

Squares Filled: 1920s au (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Alright, Mr. Sanchez. How do you feel this morning?” you ask as you pull back the hospital curtain.

“Better now that I get to see you.”

“Keep talking like this and your wife is gonna think you have a girlfriend,” you say.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he chuckles.

You grab your stethoscope and place it over his heart to listen to it. Next, you check his pulse and blood pressure. His pulse is a bit high but with the medication he’s taking, it’s not surprising. His vitals are looking strong for someone who had hip surgery, and you write them on the paper chart you have hanging off the end of his bed.

“Keep this up, Mr. Sanchez. You’ll be running marathons in no time.”

“I hope so, dear,” he smiles.

“Okay, time to get those muscles moving. I’d like to see you make it to the couch this time.”

“I’ll try.”

You help the older man sit up in his bed when your coworker comes into the room.

“Y/N? There’s a call for you. I can take over.”

“Okay, Mr. Sanchez. Elizabeth is the best besides me, of course,” you wink playfully. “You’re in good hands.” You leave Elizabeth and Mr. Sanchez alone while you head to the phone that’s on the wall. There is a receiver and a transmitter connected to the base of the phone. Both ends are on tubes that you can move around so you’re not stuck to the wall. You place the receiver to your mouth and the transmitter to your ear. “This is Y/N.”

“899 E Logan Boulevard. The boss needs you.”

“I’m at work. You can’t just--”

“The boss needs you.”

“Repeat the address, please,” you sigh. You set the receiver down and keep the transmitter to your ear while you write down the address. You pick up the receiver when you want to talk to him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You hang up both ends of the phone and find your boss who is filling out paperwork at the desk.

“Mary, I have a private client who news me right now. Elizabeth is covering for my patients. May I leave? I’ll come back once I’m done.”

“Yes. Make sure you follow up with Elizabeth about your patients.”

“Of course.”

You leave the hospital and to the car that the boss gifted you. He’s always giving you presents for your services on top of the money he pays you. You’re not sure where he’s staying, so you grab your navigation watch to put in the address you were given. This watch has saved you in more ways than one when you’ve gotten lost in the bustling city of Chicago.

The map is where the face of the watch would normally be found. The direction of the maps is wound around small wooden pegs like scrolls that could be switched out of the wristband depending on the route needed to go. You take out the map you were using before and put in the new one. Once you’re ready to go, you head toward the house.

Well, mansion is a more accurate description. Take away the hedges and big trees, this place looks like half the size of the hospital you work at. There is a steel gate at the front of the property with two armed guards standing outside of it. They’re immediately put on alert as soon as you pull up but you’re not afraid of their big guns.

“State your business,” one of the guards says in a deep voice.

“I’m the doctor for the boss.”

He nods to the other guard who opens the gate for you. You drive down the long driveway to the front of the house where half a dozen guards with guns are posted outside of it. Even if you’ve never been here before, you’ve always had to have a guard lead you through whatever place the boss is staying in. You get out and grab your medical bag from the back.

“Right this way, ma’am,” one of the guards says.

If you thought the outside was heavily guarded, then the inside is just ridiculous. More than two dozen guards are keeping watch or just wandering around protecting the place. You should get used to this because you get dozens of calls a week from the boss. This place is just beautiful and you’d love to live here if it were crawling with guards.

The floor is marble, the walls are dark grey, there are lights on the black walls that give them some kind of light, the archways are high with chandeliers coming down from the high ceiling, and the windows stretch higher than you can reach. It makes sense why the boss would live in a mansion like this. The guard takes you to a room with two guards posted outside of it, and one of them opens the door for you.

There on the bed lies the boss, Loki Laufeyson. The blankets have been stripped from the bed so he’s only lying on the black sheets that are stained with his blood for sure. He has an enormous gash starting from the top of his chest down to his hip. There is a towel covering the area that is dark red, and you don’t think it was that color when he placed it there.

Loki is well known across all of Chicago as one do the deadliest mafia bosses. He works very closely with Al Capone which is why he gets injured all the damn time. Loki found you in a bar one time with a deep cut on his cheek. You told him how to best take care of it without scarring since he has such a pretty face.

If you knew who he was before you talked to him, you wouldn’t have done it.

He took a liking to you and always came to you whenever he had even the smallest of injuries. You’re the only one who caught his attention so he wanted you around him as much as possible no matter the reason. The more you took care of him, the more your feelings for him grew. You’re not going to tell him that, of course. It would only go to his head.

Seeing him in so much pain breaks your heart.

“What did I tell you about getting into fights?” you ask and approach the side of the bed.

“I need to take care of business, love,” he laughs but groans in pain.

The bed is low enough to the ground so that when you pull up a chair next to it and sit down, you’re at the perfect height to fix his wound. You peel back the towel to see what you’re working with and more blood comes rushing out.

“It would be better if you were in a hospital with equipment and blood.”

“You know why I can’t go there.”

“You’re bleeding all over your bed.”

“I’ll get a new one,” he shrugs.

This isn’t going to be pleasant but the wound needs to be cleaned. You have a water bottle that will be used to flush out the wound while gauze will be used to clean the edges. You gently pat the area around the wound to clean the blood up and Loki closes his eyes in pain. Once you’re satisfied, you take the water bottle and begin flushing the wound.

“Fuck!” Loki shouts.

“If you can handle getting a wound like this, you can handle a bit of water. Stay still.”

When you’re done with that, you grab new gauze and pack it inside the wound so blood doesn’t spill over. There is a numbing cream that you use to spread on the outside of the wound because you need to stitch the wound so it can have a chance to heal.

“This is gonna hurt,” you state. “Even with the cream.”

“As you said, I can handle it,” he chuckles.

You take the needle and stick it through one side of the wound and thread it to the other side of the wound. You pull it close and tie it multiple times before cutting it. One down, many more to go.

“You know, this is gonna scar.”

“Good. It’ll give me some character when I’m handling business.”

As you’re stitching the wound closed, you notice his bare skin on display for you to see. It’s so pale. It’s like he hates going outside and getting some sun.

“You’re so pale. Getting some sun every once in a while isn’t gonna kill you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he drawls. A blush makes it way up your neck and to your cheeks at his accent. “I’ll go outside if you come with me.”

“I’ve already told you why I can’t,” you whisper.

Loki turns his head away from you and coughs causing more blood to rush out of his wound. When he turns his head back, his hair has fallen over his eyes. You reach up and move his hair away without touching his skin.

“I’ll change for you.”

“Al Capone will let no one go. You know this.”

It doesn’t take long for you to stitch the whole wound shut, and you use your water bottle to clean the site from his blood. You grab some more gauze and lay it over the entire wound and a big bandage that you lay over it to give it another layer of protection.

“I hate seeing you like this, Loki,” you sigh.

“I’ll try better next time,” he promises. “Thank you for being such a great doctor.”

A smile breaks through which makes him smile.

“I took time out of my very busy day to be here. How will you ever compensate me?”

Loki reaches up and grabs your neck gently and pulls you down to him. He slants his lips against yours and gives you a kiss that takes your breath away. This isn’t the first kiss you’ve shared with him and it certainly won’t be the last.

“I’ll have one of my men pay you most graciously, love,” Loki whispers against your lips.

You have to get back to the hospital so you pull away from him and gather your medical supplies. You put your hand on the doorknob but don’t turn it yet.

“Don’t get into any more fights, Loki.”

“How will I ever see you if I’m not injured?”

“You know where I live,” you smile. “All you need to do is knock.”

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)