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[makemoney2024sworld]

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[marketingprofitmedia]

How to Make $20 to $50 Every Day Online, Offline, Or at Home — No Matter Where You Are!

To make $20 to $50 daily, consider online freelancing or local gigs. Explore platforms like Upwork for remote work or offer services in your community.

Earning extra income has never been more accessible thanks to the digital age and the gig economy. Whether you’re aiming to boost your savings, pay down debt, or simply enjoy a little extra cash, numerous opportunities await. Leveraging your skills can lead to consistent online earnings, from freelance writing and graphic design to virtual assistance and social media management.

Offline, your options vary from dog-walking and babysitting to participating in research studies or selling items at local markets. Home-based avenues to consider include crafting, drops hipping, or starting a niche blog. With the right approach and a bit of hustle, reaching that $20 to $50 every day target is an achievable goal for anyone, anywhere.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS Video FREE Training to START >>

Credit: www.wsj.com

Introduction To Everyday Earning

Are you looking to boost your daily income with some extra cash? An extra $20 to $50 per day can add up quickly over time. It can help with bills, savings, or that little treat you’ve been eyeing. This guide unlocks the secrets of earning every day, no matter where you are — online, offline, or from the comfort of your home. Let’s dive into the world of everyday earning, turning your extra time into dollars!

Why Small Daily Profits Matter

Earning small amounts daily makes a big impact over time. Consistency is key. With as little as $20 a day, you could see an extra $600 in your pocket by month’s end. Let’s quantify why these daily earnings are significant:

Reliable cash flow: Daily earnings provide a steady income stream.

Financial security: Regular profits can reduce financial stress.

Goal achievement: Small steps lead to big goals, like a vacation or new gadget.

Diverse Opportunities To Earn $20-$50 Daily

Variety is the spice of life — and earning! There are countless ways to make $20 to $50 daily. Explore your skills, hobbies, and interests for the perfect fit. Here’s a snapshot of different opportunities:

Online EarningOffline EarningEarning at HomeFreelance WritingLocal Tour GuidePet SittingOnline SurveysHandyman ServicesCrafting and SellingVirtual AssistanceBabysittingHome Baking

Choose what matches your interests and start earning. With commitment, earning daily is simple. Embrace the journey of growing your income, one day at a time!

Leveraging The Online Marketplace

The online marketplace is a bustling digital environment where anyone can earn money. With a variety of platforms and niches, the possibility of making an extra $20 to $50 every day is within reach. Whether you excel in a specific skill or have products to sell, the internet provides countless opportunities to turn your resources into revenue. Let’s explore some effective ways to make money online.

Freelancing For Quick Gigs

Quick gigs can be a fast track to daily cash. Sites like Upwork and Fiverr offer tasks tailored to your talents. Follow these steps:

Create a profile highlighting your skills.

Browse job listings related to your abilities.

Apply for gigs you can complete swiftly.

Deliver quality work on time to build your reputation.

Skills in high demand include writing, graphic design, web development, and more. By focusing on quality and reliability, you build long-term relationships with clients, ensuring a steady flow of tasks and income.

Selling Products On E-commerce Sites

Selling products online opens doors to a global audience. Take these steps to start:

Choose a niche: Find products you are passionate about.

Find a platform: Use popular sites like eBay, Etsy, or Amazon.

Set up a seller account: Follow site guidelines for setup.

List items: Take clear photos and write honest descriptions.

Be price-savvy: Set competitive prices to attract buyers.

Manage inventory: Keep track of stock and update listings.

Consistency in listing new items and customer service are key to success. With persistence, your ecommerce venture can turn into a reliable source of daily income.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS Video FREE Training to START >>

Exploring Remote Work Options

The digital era unlocks a treasure chest of earning opportunities. It doesn’t matter if you’re lounging at home, sipping coffee in a local cafe, or traveling the world; making $20 to $50 daily is within reach through remote work. Let’s dive into virtual assistance and online tutoring, two lucrative paths that don’t chain you to a specific location.

Virtual Assistance Jobs

Imagine earning from the comfort of your living room. Virtual assistance jobs offer this luxury. With tasks ranging from managing emails to scheduling appointments, these roles cater to diverse skill sets. Below is how you can step into the world of virtual assistance:

Identify your strengths. Are you good with planning or writing? Match skills to services.

Build a sharp resume. Highlight relevant experience to stand out.

Explore job platforms. Sites like Upwork and Freelancer list numerous virtual assistant gigs.

The table below shows basic rates for various virtual assistance tasks:

Task TypeBasic Rate Per HourEmail Management$15-$25Content Creation$20-$30Appointment Scheduling$10-$20

Online Tutoring And Lessons

Share your knowledge and make money with online tutoring. Teach a language, offer math help, or provide music lessons; each session can boost your daily income.

Choose your niche. Pick a subject you excel in.

Gather resources. Prepare lesson plans and materials.

Find the right platforms. Websites like Tutor.com and VIPKid connect tutors to students.

Below are examples of topics you can tutor online with estimated hourly earnings:

Credit: gatheringdreams.com

Passive Income Streams

Think money while you sleep: that’s passive income. Extra cash flows in without clocking in hours. Perfect for everyone. Escape the 9-to-5 grind. Secure your financial future with smart passive income strategies. Turn downtime into dollars. Ready for some exciting ways to earn?

Investing In Stocks Or Cryptocurrency

Starting in stocks or crypto is a way to make your money work for you. You buy shares in businesses or digital currency. Over time, these can grow in value. Picking the right ones could mean a steady stream of income. Remember, there’s risk. Always learn before you dive in.

Steps to begin:

Choose a platform: Pick a user-friendly investing app.

Research: Understand what makes stocks or crypto valuable.

Invest Slowly: Start with a small amount you’re ok losing.

Earning Through Affiliate Marketing

Make money by promoting products online. Join affiliate programs. Share links on your blog, social media, or website. When someone buys through your link, you get a commission. It’s like being a salesperson, but online and on your own time.

Steps to become an affiliate marketer:

Find a niche: Pick products you’re excited about.

Choose programs: Look for ones with good commissions.

Promote wisely: Use SEO to draw in potential buyers.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS Video FREE Training to START >>

Monetizing Skills And Talents

Tapping into your own skills and talents can unlock consistent daily earnings. From crafting unique items to sharing your performances online, the opportunities are limitless. Discover how simple it is to convert your hobbies into a steady income stream.

Crafting and Selling Homemade Goods

Crafting And Selling Homemade Goods

Create and sell items from the comfort of your home. Start with materials you love to work with. Here’s a quick guide on how to get started:

Identify your craft: Choose something you excel at, be it knitting, woodworking, or jewelry making.

Quality matters: Make sure each item is made with care and to the highest standard.

Set fair prices: Research the market to ensure your prices are competitive yet profitable.

Choose a platform: Sell through Etsy, eBay, or start your own website.

Promote your work: Use social media and word of mouth to showcase your goods.

Performing and Streaming Online

Performing And Streaming Online

Showcase your talent to a global audience. You can earn through donations, subscriptions, and ads. Here’s how:

Select a streaming platform like Twitch or YouTube.

Create content that stands out and gathers a following.

Engage with your audience to build a community.

Monetize through platform-specific features, sponsors, or merchandise sales.

Credit: www.androidauthority.com

Maximizing Offline Income Opportunities

Earning outside the digital world is still vibrant. With a bit of creativity and effort, there’s money to be made. Here are some tried-and-true methods to pocket an extra $20 to $50 daily, whether you’re at home or out in your local community.

Local Service Offerings

Offering your skills locally can lead to consistent cash flow. Explore these popular services:

Lawn care: Mow lawns or provide landscaping services.

Babysitting: Help busy parents with childcare.

Pet sitting: Look after pets while owners are away.

Handyman services: Complete home repairs and simple renovations.

Create flyers or use local online boards to advertise. Word of mouth also goes a long way to secure gigs.

Participating In Focus Groups And Surveys

Research companies pay for your opinions. Focus groups and surveys are simple ways to earn:

Find local marketing research companies.

Sign up for upcoming studies that interest you.

Provide honest feedback and earn for your time.

Payments vary by study. Still, they offer fair compensation for your thoughts. Check local bulletin boards or community websites for opportunities.

Home-based Income Ventures

Earning from the comfort of your home has never been easier. From using space you already have to tapping into your gardening skills, opportunities abound. Whether you’re looking for a side hustle or a steady income stream, explore these home-based ventures. Let’s transform your living space into a money-making haven.

Starting A Home Garden For Profit

Turn your green thumb into greenbacks. Home gardening offers a wholesome way to earn. You sell fresh produce right from your backyard. Begin with easy-to-grow vegetables and herbs. Think about tomatoes, peppers, basil, and cilantro. Use organic methods to appeal to health-conscious buyers. Place ads on local online boards. Connect with neighborhood markets. They love stocking local goods. Here’s how to start:

Choose plants that thrive in your climate.

Start small to manage your garden easily.

Use social media to market your produce.

Offer bundles for a better value.

Renting Out Space Or Items

Your home is an asset — make it work for you. Unoccupied rooms? Idle tools or equipment? Rent them out. Platforms like Airbnb make space rental seamless. Offer a clean, furnished room for travelers. Parking spots are also in high demand in urban areas. Extra income comes from things you rarely use. Think power tools, outdoor gear, or even fancy dresses. Here’s a quick guide to get started:

Item/SpacePlatformTips for SuccessRoom or HomeAirbnb, VRBOProvide clear, quality photos and detailed descriptions.Parking SpaceJustPark, ParkleeHighlight security features and accessibility.Equipment or ToolsFat Llama, PeerRentersSet competitive prices and maintain your items well.

Remember to be clear about rental terms and conditions. Keep communication open with renters. Good reviews boost future business.

Frequently Asked Questions FAQ’s

Q. Can I Make Money Online Daily?

Yes, numerous online platforms offer tasks or services that can pay daily, such as freelance gigs, surveys, and content creation.

Q. What Are Simple Ways To Earn Money At Home?

Consider selling products online, doing remote freelancing, participating in paid surveys, or virtual tutoring as easy methods to earn from home.

Q. Are There Quick Tasks For Instant Cash Offline?

Absolutely, quick offline tasks might include dog walking, babysitting, or helping with moving, which often pay immediately after the service.

Q. How To Generate $50 With Minimal Skills?

Even with basic skills, you can make $50 a day by doing entry-level freelance work, performing odd jobs, or joining paid focus groups.

Q. Where To Find Legitimate Online Earning Sites?

Legitimate earning sites can be found through trusted job boards, freelance platforms, and reviews from reputable financial advice websites.

Q. What Passive Income Options Need Low Investment?

Creating digital products, starting a blog with affiliate marketing, or investing in dividend-paying stocks could offer passive income with minimal initial investment.

Conclusion

Embracing these strategies can lead to daily earnings between $20 and $50. Whether at home or on-the-go, these tips provide flexible options to increase your income. Take action, apply the methods, and start earning extra cash every day. It’s time to boost your financial journey and enjoy the rewards of persistence and creativity.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS Video FREE Training to START >>

Thanks for reading my article on How to Make $20 to $50 Every Day Online, Offline, Or at Home — No Matter Where You Are!

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This article Contain may be affiliate links, which means I receive a small commission at NO ADDITIONAL cost to you if you decide to purchase something. While we receive affiliate compensation for reviews / promotions on this article, we always offer honest opinions, users experiences and real views related to the product or service itself. Our goal is to help readers make the best purchasing decisions, however, the testimonies and opinions expressed are ours only. As always you should do your own thoughts to verify any claims, results and stats before making any kind of purchase. Clicking links or purchasing products recommended in this article may generate income for this product from affiliate commissions and you should assume we are compensated for any purchases you make. We review products and services you might find interesting. If you purchase them, we might get a share of the commission from the sale from our partners. This does not drive our decision as to whether or not a product is featured or recommended.

Source : How to Make $20 to $50 Every Day Online, Offline, Or at Home — No Matter Where You Are

[femjaskierinreallife]

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[nap-thym3]

Sebastian Solace(Pressure) x Reader/Self-Insert 🌊

Part-One /Fluff/1,886 Words

____________

Synopsis: In which when I first played pressure I just stood and stared at Sebastian’s character model for a solid five minutes. So this was born. yayayaya

____________

Army crawling on your knees and elbows, your chest rattles with your wheezing breaths. Truth was, you’d never been an active person. The most legwork you’d gotten in a day was typically at work, and even then, that was minimal. Suffice to say, being thrust into this shitshow of a scenario where running from constant threats was the norm, the situation couldn’t be anymore dire.

You wave a hand about in front of yourself, fanning away the disrupted layers of dust that fluttered in the cramped ventilation shaft as your rasping coughs bounce off the walls and create a cacophony of god-awful racket. You mutter a slew of curses to yourself, clapping your palm over your nose and mouth in a pitiful attempt to stifle your coughing fit. It would be just your luck for a nearby eldritch-horror to overhear your pathetic, asthmatic-self in the vents and drag you out by the ankles. The thought alone brings an electrifying jolt of anxiety through your person, and if you had the space you’d be looking over your shoulder in paranoia. Alas, the best you could do was put your jittering nerves to use and crawl just that little bit faster. Honestly, it was an accomplishment in of itself that you managed to shimmy-shammy your adult self into such a claustrophobic passage in the first place. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve just marched straight past the most convenient and inviting looking vent in the world. Probably assuming it to be a blatant trap. Except, you did know better. Just a few feet ahead lay maybe the only place in the entire bowels of this hellscape where you felt you were well and truly safe.

Crawling out of the shaft like an NYC subway rat, you’re finally free to hack up your lungs in peace without fear of death by angler. At least, no death from this one in particular. Blindly you lean back to sit on your haunches, eyes straining to pick up any movement in the darkness.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your shoulder’s jump as a voice drawls from the far-side of the room. Soon after, a gentle glow begins to illuminate the occupied space.

Now with your gracious host offering you visibility, you blink your adjusting vision over to watch as Sebastian seemingly just wraps up whatever file he’d been perusing in the dark. Before you can even attempt to try and sneak a peek at whatever he’d been reading, said folder closes shut with a swift snap. The merchant then carefully tucks the item away into his inner-coat’s pocket. A shame, your snooping has been so swiftly shut down before it ever had a chance to begin- you pout at the missed opportunity. Sebastian catches your longing gaze fixated on his coat, and gives a condescending little pat to the area where you know the concealed document is to be hiding. Wordlessly daring you to even try. Cheeky fish.

“Not even a ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you’? I could’ve been dying in there!” You bemoan in a familiar way of greeting, gesticulating between yourselves wildly as you saunter forward. Sebastian, unphased by your usual eccentricities, drags an unimpressed eye over your much smaller form. Analyzing. Probably looking at your absolutely filthy diving suit- sweat-drenched and caked in dust, grime, and maybe even a little bit of blood as it was. At least you assumed so, if the distaste visibly evident in his features was anything to go by.

“I was hoping whoever it was would die a little more quickly.” Was his dry response, before turning his head in indifference; seeming to have found whatever it was he was looking for on your person.

You scoff, “I see chivalry really is dead.” You gripe without any real bite in your voice. Already beginning to survey the merchant’s wares. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him as he begins to preen over his nails, pretending to be checking for dirt. Or blood, you didn’t know the guy well enough to say for certain what he did in his free-time. Your attention travels upwards, from his large hands up to his round face. The light emanating from his angler’s bulb casts an almost ethereal glow to his features. Especially with the way his eyes gleam that cerulean blue that’s quickly becoming a favorite color of yours. In addition to these qualities, there’s a very light sprinkling of bioluminescent freckles smattered across his cheeks. Sort of reminiscent to that of stars. Idly your fingers twitch, the sudden urge to reach up and map them like constellations startlingly strong. All these qualities make Sebastian feel so surreal, so out of this world. In juxtaposition to all of that, you’re confident to say that if he had the means, he’d be snobbishly turning his nose up at you right about now. The mental image brings a small, secretive smile to your face.

Sebastian rolls his eyes- or at least, you get the impression that he does. His lack of distinctive pupils makes it hard to tell.

“Are you going to actually buy something today?” He snips, cocking out a hip. “Or are you just going to keep gawking at me?” The merchant sneers through grit teeth(or maybe that was just his face?).

Snapping out of your reverie, caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie-jar, blood rushes to your head as you grin sheepishly up at his accusatory glare.

“Sorry, you’re just…” you wave a hand up beside yourself, willing the right words to come to you. Sebastian, amused by your silent floundering, quirks a knowing eyebrow at you. As if saying ‘Go on?’ The soundless goading sends you into a mental spiral- what did that mean? What did he think you were going to say? God- you don’t want to accidentally offend him, but you also don’t want to sound like a complete idiot. You gulp, mouth opening and closing a few times as you attempt to formulate words that will appease him.

Seemingly tired of you embarrassing yourself, Sebastian moved to speak, assumedly in an act of mercy from this sad display. Quickly, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, before he could beat you to the punch.

“You’re just really pretty.” Mortified, you clap your hands over your mouth. Yup. Those are. Definitely words that you just said. To his face.

Muscles tensing, you brace for his reaction. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, disgust, maybe? Mocking laughter, most probably. Any and all situations your brain can conjure up are absolutely humiliating in equal measure. However, as one moment drags into two, and the silence has still yet to be breached, you cautiously look Sebastian’s way. The sight that greets you is a rare one. The infamous Z-13, Sebastian Solace, is left speechless.

The Merchant’s smug expression falters, a look of genuine astonishment crossing his face. The dim light cast by his lure does little to mask the way his stature curls inwards slightly. A slight too much, in your opinion. You can see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching- as though internally wrestling with a response. Just as you had been a moment prior. The knowledge that he was just as at a loss for words as you were eases the tension in your shoulders, if only by a hair. Miser so does love its company, after-all. There’s a brief pause, heavy and awkward, until he finally speaks, his voice softer than usual.

“Pretty?” he echoes, almost disbelievingly. He then swallows, visibly thrown off-kilter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called… At-At least- that is to say, not in a good long while.” The second half of his sentence is murmured, as if mostly said to himself. But you had overheard, and he looks as if to have noticed the way your brows pinch in a confusing whirlpool of emotions. Mostly sympathy, pity, among other emotions neither of you were too entirely ready to put out on the table. God forbid you two express emotional maturity and speak plainly like adults. Sebastian flexes his long tail, the serpentine appendage looking as if it were going to either pull or push you away. However, before it can make any progress in either endeavor, Sebastian, -noticeably uncomfortable- clears his throat.

“Silly little thing.” He croons, swooping down from his towering height to give you a patronizing pinch to the cheek with his clawed index and thumb. “You should be mindful of your tongue, hmmm?” As he speaks, his usual edge returns to his voice. Your head helplessly tilts side-to-side with the motion of his ‘affection’. Affronted, and a little whip-lashed with his quick recovery, you swat the offending hand away from your face.

“Jerk! I was trying to be nice!” Despite the biting words, you can’t help but feel relieved to be set back on familiar ground. Whatever emotional vulnerability present in the moment prior was slowly ebbing away, returning to your regularly scheduled squabbling. Sebastian chuckles, bodily retreating to his previous stature and re-clasping his hands before himself with an echoing ‘clap’. You rub at your reddened cheeks, whether their heat was due to Sebastian’s rough treatment or from an entirely other emotion, was only for you to know.

Sebastian continues on distractedly, seeming to have already recollected his composure. “Flattery will get you nowhere here, you know. But… thanks.” You think you see his eyes dart away for a brief moment, before locking onto yours again. A curl of his typical smirk splaying across his lips.

You gasp dramatically, a goofy smile erupting on your face. “The mighty Sebastian? Saying thanks?” You tease.

Sebastian waves a hand about in the air dismissively. “Yeah yeah, just don’t let it get to your head.” He says, crossing his arms defensively. He steamrolls on before you get anymore wise ideas to- eugh, compliment him. “Now hurry up and buy something already!” He snaps, motioning to the various goodies strapped to his person. Not having to be told thrice now, you hurry and make your selections. Eager to move on from everything and anything to do with word ‘cute’. Nothing major, just a few batteries for the road and a mobile hacker or two. Sebastian seems to approve of your choices, and if the price he demands of you seems a little cheaper than the usual- well. You certainly weren’t going to complain.

Getting everything tucked neatly away and ready to go, you begin to trek back towards the vent before being stopped once more by Sebastian.

“Oh! And Traveller?” He calls. With an answering hum, you look back to maybe your only friend down here. The merchant in question seems to look like he’s turning something over in his head, before continuing with a withering sigh.

“Try not to get yourself killed out there, alright? I’d hate to lose such a profitable costumer.” He sing-songs grimly. Despite the harsh words, you can’t help but notice a slight undertone of warm endearment. Feeling like a certified Sebastian-whisperer, you pride swells in your chest at being able to read between the lines. With a barely concealed snicker at his thinly-veiled concern, you toss a final farewell his way before retreating. All throughout the next dozen or so rooms, you journey forward with a skip in your step. Feeling invigorated with newfound determination knowing that a certain merchant was counting on your safe return.

______________

eeeughh I’m so rusty with writing. Like. It’s not even funny how long this took me for just a one-shot? Idk I might continue this, I just suck so bad at staying motivated for fanfics. Anywho, hope any fellow Sebastian enjoyers out there liked this, there’s not enough content out there of him👍 please make more content guys pls I’m starved for the fics puh-LEASEE

[athena14044]

having a mini crisis about my major 😔

[fromthemouthofkings]

Okay, I'm thinking about the Murderbot TV show again, and how I would adapt it, and we're going to be robbed if we get anything less than a cold open to a scene of some obviously cheezy space drama, maybe an Overdramatic Human Woman In Green Facepaint overdramatically sobbing as she confronts a Generic Action Hero like "It's...it's your baby!!!" *cue three different angles of Generic Action Hero's shocked and surprised face* Generic Action Hero opens her mouth to respond, but we don't hear her voice, because her words are drowned out by a sudden roaring sound coming from offscreen. The audience gets jump scared by lashing tentacles that seem to whip across the screen, in front of the window where we were watching the space drama, and the camera zooms out until you see that the window was floating in front of MB's face, as MB stands on the edge of a crater and the survey team pokes around down below. A giant, tentacled space monster is emerging down below, the survey team is screaming, Overse is getting picked up and tossed into the air, on a trajectory heading straight for the monster's gaping jaws...

Everything slows down. The sound mutes. MB swears and launches itself towards the monster. The camera shakes and warnings blare and flash across the screen, but we don't see much of the action, because the camera swings in to focus on the floating window where the space drama (Sanctuary Moon. It's Sanctuary Moon) keeps playing, on mute, while Murderbot's voiceover delivers the line: "I could have become a mass murderer after I hacked my governor module, but then I realized I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites..."

[thebigmanifestor]

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[olive-main]

Hi hi! Ive just stumbled across your writing and i adore it so much! You capture Azriel so perfectly!! I don't really have much of a specific request in mind (but trust me, I'll think of one and come back if that's okay??) But could I ask for something with our Az and a super strong, independent, sarcastic reader. I just love the idea of totally smitten Azriel and just all the fluff. I'm so sorry this is so vague but

Happy holidays!!

No Damsels Here

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: A fiesty Valkyrie with a sharp wit and the brooding Shadowsinger find their lives slowly intertwined through training, quiet moments, and unexpected gestures, leading them to realize there may be a growing connection they can no longer ignore.

Wc: 2.7k

A/N: Ok be honest, did you hack into my account and read my drafts bcs….I had just the fic for this request rotting for far too long. I hope you enjoy, it’s not my fav since I think my writing is better now hence why it’s been in my drafts lol and it’s like semi proofread—BUT thanks to this request y’all get more fluff. Everyone say thank you! :b

——

The morning air is cool and sharp, biting at your skin as you jog toward the training ring, late as usual. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, its rays barely spilling over the horizon, but Nesta is already there stretching, as she is every morning. Ever the Valkyrie.

“You’re late,” she remarks as you step onto the mat beside her.

“Fashionably late,” you correct, tying your hair back. “Besides, I needed an extra five minutes of sleep. Someone decided to keep me up last night with her endless talking about smutty romance novels.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her smirk. “Don’t act as if you’re not interested in my books.”

Before you can retort, Cassian’s booming voice cuts through the quiet. “Alright, enough about your romance book things. You’re here to train, not gossip.”

You glance over the training grounds, your eyes instinctively flicking toward the familiar figure standing on the far edge of the ring. Azriel is adjusting the strap of his leathers, his wings half-furled behind him as he surveys the weapons laid out with his usual quiet focus.

Nesta catches the direction of your gaze and nudges you with her elbow. “Still brooding, isn’t he?”

“He’s not brooding,” you reply, a little too defensively. “He’s… serious.”

Nesta gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press further as Cassian begins pairing everyone off for sparring.

“Y/N,” Cassian calls, grinning wickedly. “You’re with Azriel today.”

You blink, trying not to focus on how your heart jumped. Across the ring, Azriel’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you see the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

—

Sparring with Azriel is both exhilarating and frustrating. He’s fast—almost impossibly so—and he moves with a precision that leaves no openings. You’re strong and quick on your feet, but against Azriel, every strike feels like a gamble.

“You’re hesitating,” he murmurs, dodging your swing with ease.

“I’m calculating,” you snap back, twisting to block his next move.

His lips twitch, the faintest ghost of a smile. “You’re thinking too much.”

“And you’re talking too much,” you retort, aiming a strike at his side.

He blocks it effortlessly, his wings shifting slightly as he steps into your space. For a moment, you’re close enough to catch the faint scent of cedar and something darker, something so distinctly him.

“Focus,” he says, his voice low and even, and you can’t help the way your pulse quickens.

But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you smirk and lunge to the left before sweeping his legs out from under him. He lands on his back with a soft thud, his wings flaring slightly to cushion the fall.

“Gotcha,” you say, planting your hands on your hips.

Azriel props himself up on one elbow, looking up at you with an expression that’s almost impressed. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echo, laughing. “That was a textbook takedown.”

From across the ring, Cassian claps his hands. “That’s my girl! Show him who’s boss, Y/N!”

You smile proudly at Cassian, bowing exaggeratedly before turning back to Azriel with a proud smirk.

“Again?” he asks, his tone calm but with a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

“Obviously,” you reply, and the sparring begins anew.

—

You’re sitting on the edge of the ring after the session, toweling the sweat from your face as the others disperse. Nesta sits beside you, nursing a bottle of water and watching Azriel, who’s speaking quietly with Cassian.

“You know he likes you, right?” Nesta says, breaking the silence.

You choke on your water. “What?”

Nesta gives you a look, one brow arched in that infuriatingly smug way of hers. “Don’t play dumb. He’s been watching you all morning.”

“He watches everyone,” you argue, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Not like this,” Nesta counters. “Trust me, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s different.”

You shake your head, refusing to entertain the idea. “He’s just… observant. It’s his job.”

Nesta doesn’t respond, but her silence is louder than words.

—

Over the next few weeks, you start to notice the little things. The way Azriel lingers near you during training, offering quiet pointers or stepping in to demonstrate a move. The way he always seems to know when you’re pushing yourself too hard, handing you a water bottle or calling for a break just as your muscles start to protest.

And then there are the gloves. The day before you’d worn down your leather gloves to their last seam, small tears at the knuckles.

You find them waiting for you one morning, neatly folded and left on the bench where you always sit. They’re sleek and well-crafted, the leather soft and pliable. With your name written on a piece of parchment laid neatly on them, in his writing.

“Nice gloves,” Nesta remarks as you slip them on.

“They’re… new,” you say, frowning slightly.

“Azriel left them,” she says, her tone far too casual.

You freeze, glancing at her. “How do you know that?”

Nesta smirks. “Because I saw him put them there.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Azriel approaches, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Do they fit?” he asks, his gaze flicking to the gloves.

You nod, flexing your fingers. “Perfectly. Thank you.”

He inclines his head, his lips curving into the faintest smile before he turns and walks away.

“Hopeless,” Nesta mutters under her breath, but you don’t bother arguing this time.

—

It’s late one evening when Azriel finds you sitting on the balcony of the House of Wind, staring out at the twinkling lights of Velaris below.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft as he steps into the night air.

You glance over your shoulder, surprised but not unwelcome. “Something like that.”

He leans against the railing beside you, his wings folding neatly behind him. For a while, neither of you speaks, the quiet stretching between you like a warm blanket.

Finally, Azriel breaks the silence. “Something is on your mind”

“Oh? Am I that easy to see through Shadowsinger?” you ask, turning to face him.

“No, not always” he says, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “But you only come out here when something is.”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. But before you can, he continues, his voice low and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “But if you ever want to, I’m here.”

The sincerity in his tone takes you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“Thanks,” you say finally, your voice softer than usual.

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for a heartbeat longer before he turns back to the view.

The silence stretches, comfortable but crackling with unspoken words. You lean your elbows on the railing, the cool metal pressing against your skin. Azriel doesn’t move, his presence steady beside you, a quiet sort of comfort.

“So,” you say at last, breaking the stillness. “Is brooding a full-time job for you, or do you just do it in your free time?”

His lips twitch, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the city below. “Depends. Are you asking because you want tips?”

A laugh escapes you, sharp and unrestrained. “Please, I could out-brood you any day of the week.”

Azriel turns his head slightly, enough that you can see the amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you will,” you quip, straightening up and crossing your arms. “But don’t come crying to me when I leave you in the shadows.”

“I don’t cry,” he replies smoothly, his expression as impassive as ever.

You snort, shaking your head. “No, of course not. The great spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t have emotions, right?”

His mouth curves into the faintest smile, and for a moment, you swear you see something softer beneath the usual calm exterior.

“Wrong,” he says quietly.

The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and for once, you’re at a loss for words. Before you can respond, Azriel shifts, his wings rustling softly as he straightens.

“I should let you get some sleep,” he says, his voice low and even.

“Sure,” you reply, recovering quickly. “I’ll need it for when I take you down in training tomorrow.”

His soft chuckle is the last thing you hear before he disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

—

The next morning, you’re determined to shake off the lingering feelings from last night. You throw yourself into training with a vengeance, sparring with Nesta and Cassian until your muscles burn and your breath comes in ragged gasps.

But no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t ignore the fact that Azriel’s eyes are on you. He’s not overt about it, of course—he never is. But you’ve gotten good at reading him.

“Do you think he’s capable of blinking?” you mutter to Nesta during a break, jerking your chin in Azriel’s direction.

Nesta smirks, following your gaze. “Why? Is it distracting you?”

“Hardly,” you scoff. “I just don’t want him pulling something from all that intense staring.”

“Maybe he’s impressed,” Nesta says, her tone teasing.

You roll your eyes. “He’s impressed by my fighting skills, obviously. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Obviously,” Nesta echoes, her smirk growing.

“Don’t start,” you warn, grabbing your water bottle.

Nesta raises her hands in mock surrender, but you can see the gleam in her eye.

—

After training, you’re stretching near the edge of the ring when Azriel approaches. You glance up, noting the slight crease in his brow as he surveys the scrape on your arm.

“You should get that looked at,” he says, nodding toward the cut.

“It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “Barely a scratch.”

Azriel doesn’t look convinced. He crouches beside you, pulling a small vial of salve from his pocket.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, reaching for your arm.

You consider protesting, but the look in his eyes stops you. So instead, you sit there, watching as his fingers work with careful precision, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You know, this is the second time you’ve fussed over me this week,” you say, breaking the silence. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”

Azriel doesn’t look up, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Is it working?”

The question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. So instead, you settle for sarcasm.

“Not yet,” you say, grinning. “But keep trying. You might get there eventually.”

His quiet laugh sends warmth curling through your chest, and as he finishes wrapping your arm, you find yourself wishing the moment would last a little longer.

—

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen with Nesta, raiding the cabinets for a late-night snack.

“So,” she says casually, popping a grape into her mouth. “What’s going on with you and Azriel?”

You freeze mid-reach, turning to glare at her. “What do you mean, ‘what’s going on?’”

Nesta shrugs, far too nonchalant. “I mean, he practically hovered over you all day. And don’t think I didn’t notice him patching you up earlier.”

“It was a cut,” you say defensively. “Hardly life-threatening.”

“Uh-huh.” Nesta leans against the counter, studying you with those sharp eyes of hers. “And the gloves? Or the way he’s always watching you during training?”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m really not,” Nesta replies, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

“Well, even if he does… like me, that’s his problem,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m not some damsel in distress, waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet.”

“No,” Nesta agrees, smirking. “But maybe you’re someone who could use a little… sweeping.”

You throw a grape at her, and she laughs, ducking out of the way.

—

The realization of Azriel’s attention lingers in your mind longer than you’d like to admit. You try to shake it off—try to convince yourself that it’s just his nature to watch everyone, to care quietly. But there’s a warmth to his gaze when it falls on you, a softness that feels different, deliberate.

And once you notice it, you can’t stop seeing it.

Like during training the next day, when Cassian barks at everyone to do laps. You’re running alongside Nesta, your legs burning and breath hitching, when Azriel quietly falls into step beside you.

“Don’t overthink your breathing,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m not overthinking it.”

His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly. “You were counting your breaths.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone laced with mock offense. “You’re watching me breathe now? That’s not creepy at all.”

Azriel doesn’t rise to the bait, but the faintest smirk graces his lips. “Just trying to help.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, rolling your eyes. But when you refocus on your breathing, following his advice, the run feels a little easier.

—

A few days later, you find yourself in the House of Wind’s library, searching for a book Nesta recommended, the one she had mentioned to you a few days ago. You’re muttering under your breath, cursing the ridiculously high shelves, when a familiar voice speaks behind you.

“Need help?”

You whirl around to find Azriel standing there, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Not unless you’ve got a ladder hidden somewhere,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Azriel steps closer, his wings shifting as he glances up at the shelf. “Which one?”

You point to the book near the top, and without a word, Azriel extends a wing, brushing it against the shelf as he pulls the book down with practiced ease.

He hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “There.”

You take the book, trying not to let the warmth of his touch distract you. “Thanks. I guess having wings is good for more than just flying, huh?”

His smile widens slightly. “They’re versatile.”

“Show-off,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to your tone.

Azriel doesn’t respond, just tilts his head as if studying you. The silence stretches, heavy but not uncomfortable, and you find yourself wondering what’s going on behind those hazel eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask finally, your voice sharper than you intend.

Azriel blinks, as though pulled from his thoughts. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

He hesitates, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Maybe I am.”

Before you can press him further, he nods toward the book in your hands. “Enjoy your reading.” And then he’s gone, slipping back into the shadows as easily as he came.

—

The tension between you grows, subtle but undeniable. It’s not something you can ignore anymore—not when his gaze lingers just a second too long, or when his words carry a weight you can’t quite name.

One evening, after another long day of training, you find yourself wandering the halls of the House of Wind. You end up on the same balcony where Azriel joined you that night, the city lights below twinkling like stars.

You’re not surprised when he appears again, his presence so quiet you almost don’t notice until he’s standing beside you.

“Do you ever sleep?” you ask, glancing at him.

“Rarely,” he admits, his voice soft.

“Figures,” you mutter, leaning against the railing.

The silence stretches, but this time, it feels charged, as though both of you are waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Azriel breaks the quiet. “You confuse me.”

You blink, turning to face him. “What?”

“You’re strong, stubborn, sarcastic…” He trails off, his lips curving slightly. “But you care. Even when you try not to show it.”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, his gaze meeting yours, “that you make it very difficult to stay in the shadows.”

His words hang in the air, and for once, you don’t have a witty comeback. You’re too busy trying to process the way your heart is racing, the way his eyes seem to see straight through you.

“Well,” you say finally, your voice quieter than usual. “Maybe it’s time you stepped out of them.”

Azriel’s smile is small, but it’s real. And in that moment, with the stars above and the city below, you feel something shift between both of you—something neither of you are sure you can ignore anymore. Not when he feels that golden thread that glows in his chest, connecting his soul to yours.

——

Are y’all interested in a tag list?? I’m gonna be more consistent in posting hehe.

Thank you for reading my lovely humans. Requests are still very open ;)

[obeythebutler]

For the fluff prompt, may I please have Lucifer and "making funny faces behind the computer while the other one is in a boring Zoom meeting" with Mc being the other one???

It starts small.

The most insignificant of details that the eye won't catch at first glance, but the brain notices something is amiss.

For starters, the pair of spectacles Lucifer always dons is sitting on his desk. You swear he was wearing them just a moment before—your eyebrows furrow—but then you divert your attention back to the screen. The demon continues with his paperwork.

End semester projects require regular progress checks. Your group members are done informing the professor of their progress, now it is your turn to speak up.

"We are done with our research," You say, involuntarily straightening your posture. "We have encountered several problems while trying to know more about the economic practices of the Devildom in the year 1121. Astarion and I have gathered what we could find and compiled it in the document attached in our recent email to you."

"And what is to be done next?" The demon asks.

Magoth speaks up, and you take the moment to grab the bottle of water next to you. You open the cap and take a sip, eyes darting behind the screen.

"We have already verified it from—"

You choke on the liquid in your throat.

Several voices of concern chime in through your speakers as you hack and cough. Hurriedly wiping your mouth, you splutter and blurt out words of assurance. The talking resumes, and your brain can't believe what it saw.

Lucifer, pouting as he stares into his phone, the device outstretched in his left hand. Puckered lips and and all.

"Don't." You mouth the words at the demon, who smirks and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

"This project will be submitted by the end of next month," You pipe in, voice confident of your group's ability to meet deadlines. "There's a survey also planned for extra credit, and Astarion has already formulated the questions."

"Very good! Ah, that reminds me, I've made a new email id—please mail me your survey results on..............."

You make the mistake of glancing at Lucifer.

You have to resist the urge to smile after.

He's winking at you now, comically so, and the demon looks ridiculous.

You mute your mic, and let yourself giggle. "Lucifer," You whine, "I'm in a meeting!"

"Can't I have a little fun now and then?" He says, picking up his pen again. "Besides, you should be focused on the meeting, and not on external variables."

You glare at the demon.

"MC?" Magoth chimes. "Are you trying to say something? Your mic's on mute."

You force yourself to make a polite smile. "Everything's alright! Just a little disturbance. Please, carry on."

You lean back on your chair. The sound of pen scribbling on paper makes for a suitable background noise, and you finally focus on the meeting being held.

You assume the demon has finally calmed down on his rare antics.

Progress is made, conclusions revised, and the meeting is wrapped up in the next twenty minutes.

You close your laptop after, and nearly jump in your seat.

Because there is Lucifer, eyebrows furrowed and a hand grabbing his chin. Lower lip being bitten by his teeth.

This time, you let yourself laugh freely.

[arsonwizard]

In The Murderbot Diaries: All Systems Red, an important plot point is the murder of the other survey team on the planet, DeltFall, by GrayCris. The first attempt to do so was via malware disguised as an upgrade package intended for their secunits. If it had been applied, GrayCris would’ve been able to remotely take over the secunits and force them to murder the DeltFall team.

(notably, this attempt failed, and GrayCris had to hack the secunits in person, but thats not important for this post)

Importantly, GrayCris sent this same malware to Preservation Aux at the same time, intending to take over Murderbot. Take a look at the reason Murderbot gives for refusing the download:

“I don’t do automated package updates anymore, now that I don’t have to.”

Throughout the series, especially early on, Murderbot will bring up two things: The memory wipes it had undergone, and the mass-murder at it’s hands that had prompted said memory wipes.

In Artificial Condition, Murderbot goes back to the scene of the crime to figure out why it committed mass murder.

As it turns out, malware disguised as an upgrade infected the system and causes the deaths of 57 people.

it might be a stretch to assume that Murderbot subconsciously remembers the cause of the incident. the upgrade package was sent to the comfortunits, not the secunits. But we do know that Murderbot hacked its governor module almost immediately afterwards, so that it couldn’t be forced to kill against its will ever again. It might be more accurate to call it a demonstration of autonomy.

The moral of the story seems to be that automatic updates are bad for security

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Pathology Murders

Summary: When the reader and the boys stumble across a gruesome scene, they get the feeling that the monster they're hunting is of the human variety...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, lots of mentions of gore/death, trauma, accident, fluff

A/N: This fic was inspired by this imagine (which makes an appearance in this one shot) and also by the horror movie Pathology!

________

“What the hell…” Dean and Sam looked around the abandoned house, pausing like you had when they got to the kitchen. Your boys weren’t wimps by any means. They’d seen some serious crap. Done some serious crap. But that kitchen? 

It took Sam all of three seconds to step out of the room and upheave his greek salad from lunch.

Meanwhile Dean took it all in before his eyes landed on where you were trying to work the scene, fighting back another dry heave. 

“You alright?” he asked. You knew he was concerned. You weren’t one to puke up your guts either. But the poor soul on the kitchen table, or rather what was left of him…twisted wasn’t even the right word for it.

“Not particularly,” you said, pointing at a glass jar that housed a pair of kidneys on the stove. “Not all the organs made it into jars. Pretty sure the liver is in the sink.”

Dean cautiously took a step inside, swallowing thickly. Unlike you or Sam, who had your own experiences with hell, Dean’s had been far more…interactive. Sam’s soul was battered around by Lucifer but it’d been more psychological than physical. You’d spent an unpleasant night with a hellhound in the same cage and while it hadn’t been fun, you’d been able to stay in a corner and out of harms way. Dean though…Dean had been sliced and diced and hacked and every other possible horror, imaginable or not. And then he’d performed the acts himself. You never blamed him for giving in, for breaking. You’d told him time and time again he was, and always would be, a good man.

Some days, more often lately it seemed the older he got, he seemed to believe you.

“Whoever did this performed an autopsy on this guy. While he was alive,” said Dean, leaning over the body to get a closer look. “Huh. Anybody see a heart around here?”

You surveyed the bloody room, finding more than a few peculiar shaped body parts but nothing resembling a heart. Sam finally made his way in, taking a deep inhale as he got used to the gore before him. “I got nothing over here.”

“Could be a werewolf,” said Dean, cocking his head as he straightened, brow furrowing. “Or a witch.”

You knew he wasn���t buying that though, neither of you were. You tore your eyes away from the search to watch Sam’s expression flare up with a strange look of familiarity. “Sammy?”

“I think a person did this,” he said. Dean rolled his eyes.

“No shit Sherlock. Someone used a knife or-”

“No, jackass,” said Sam, shooting Dean a harsh look for a brief second. “I mean I think this was a human, like an actual human. They were just talking about a cold case like this on a podcast I listened to during my run last week.”

“You and your fucking serial killer obsession,” muttered Dean. Sam’s eye twitched, the tension rising in the room. “It’s fucking weird, Sammy.”

“We hunt monsters, dumbass. How is that any different?”

“That’s our job. You don’t see me watching murder documentaries like a certain someone in my free time.” Sam got closer to Dean, Dean taking one to match, both boy’s jaws clenching. 

“Hey,” you said with a snap of your fingers, the pair reluctantly turning towards you. “Dean, plenty of people are interested in cold cases and as long as Sam isn’t a serial killer himself, his hobby is fine. Sam, Dean just gets concerned that you don’t take enough of a break from hunting but he can’t come out and say that. So hug and make up. You’re on the same side.”

They both grumbled and gave each other a half-assed embraced but it made you smile regardless. 

“So what’d your murder podcast say?” asked Dean, walking around to the other side of the cut open body. Sam’s face soured. “That good, huh?”

“They called them the Pathology Murders. A string of five victims about ten years ago that went unsolved. The killer performed live autopsies like you said about this guy earlier. The only lead they ever had was that the killer must have medical training, like a doctor, based on what they did to the victims. Oh, and all the murders took place in the Seattle area.”

“Which downtown is only twenty minutes from here,” you said, crossing your arms. “Was the heart missing at the other scenes?”

“I’m not sure. They could have skimmed over that,” said Sam. Your gaze followed Dean’s, his green eyes laced with uncertainty. “I can do some research back at the motel. You guys could check in with Seattle PD, see if the case files have anything useful.”

“We should double check that it’s not our kind of monster and if it really is a person-”

“We’re not working this case,” said Dean. Your eyebrows shot up, Sam’s face already frowning. “We do not investigate serial killers. Save it for the police.”

“Uh, what the hell is going on? You would never let a killer, monster or human, stay on the loose,” said Sam.

Dean’s gaze shot to you and quickly away, his eyes turning sharp as they zeroed in on Sam. You scoffed, Sam cocking his head in question.

“It’s because my mom was murdered. By a serial killer. Isn’t it, Dean?” Dean’s lips pressed into a thin hard line and you shook your head. “They caught her killer which you know. What does that have anything to do with-”

“You caught the killer, you did that,” said Dean, Sam completely lost. He knew your mom had been killed but not the gory details like Dean.

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing then?” he asked. “Y/N has experience with this sort of thing then.”

“Why don’t you explain to Sammy just exactly what you did to ‘catch’ her killer then, sweetheart. Go on. I’m sure he’d love to hear it.” You glared at Dean, feeling an unpleasant prickling in your eyes. Dean didn’t back down as you teared up though, instead focusing on Sam. “She let herself be bait. She let herself get caught by the son of a bitch. She almost died because she doesn’t see when she’s going too far with serial killers. The same thing happened on that Tulsa case five years ago.”

You could sense Sam had shifted very quickly to being on Dean’s side of this argument. You’d been young and reckless with your mom’s killer, barely a day over eighteen. That was years and years ago. You’d learned since then to use more sense. Tulsa…well your plan as being bait would have worked if your former hunting partner hadn’t been more focused on getting some ass that night than watching your back.

“Yeah, that’s how we met, Sam. Not working a case. No, Y/N was fucked and if I hadn’t been driving back from Jody’s that night and saw the fucking asshole grab her, she’d be dead. Wouldn’t you?” Dean snarled. You narrowed your misty eyes at him, Dean lifting his chin. “We will make sure this isn’t our kind of deal and if it is in fact a run of the mill serial killer, we are getting the fuck out of here, understand me?”

“I fucked up once. Once,” you breathed out. You swallowed thickly, wiping off your face with your jacket sleeve. “Just how many times have you been kidnapped Dean in the five years that I’ve known you? I’ve been taken once. You? How many times have I cut you loose? Taken out the monster with a knife to your throat? A gun to your head? How many times have you gotten lost in a case? Gone on a rampage? I never realized we were keeping score.”

Dean’s gaze fell to the floor, his hand running over his jaw, searching for the right words.

“Sam, go back to the motel and research. Dean and I’ll do the fed schitk and get the files we can. Whoever’s behind this, I’m going after them. You two can do whatever the hell you want,” you said, storming out of the room and out of the house.

“You look pretty,” said Dean softly a few hours later as you exited the motel bathroom in your fed suit, a light blue button down blouse with your charcoal gray suit jacket and pants. You ignored him as you dug through your duffel for your pointed black booties. Professional but also you knew for a fact you could run and fight in them. You growled in frustration when you couldn’t find them though, hearing Dean clear his throat behind your back. You glanced over your shoulder, following Dean’s gaze to where he’d set them down by the end of the bed.

“Thanks,” you grumbled, slipping them on and pulling up the side zipper. Dean was sporting his navy suit today, the one he looked extra hot in. You ignored that fact as you tucked your gun into the back of your pants, fixing your suit jacket over it.

“Y/N.” You sighed, giving him a look that you really didn’t want to do this right now. He took a long breath, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Sam quietly slinked out of the room into his adjoining one. Most of the time the three of you shared but when you could swing it, Sam got his own next door to give you and Dean some privacy.

Privacy you didn’t necessarily want at this moment.

“You do good cop, I’ll be the hardass if it comes to it,” you said, shoving your phone in your pocket. You tried to walk past him for the door but he caught your hand, stopping you after a few feet. “Dean.”

“I do not, and have never, thought you were weak. But serial killers are a blindspot for you. Sam and I both have them. This is yours.” He lowered his head, like he was fighting the words that were coming out. 

To your surprise, he dropped your hand and stood. 

“Be careful on this one, sweetheart.” He walked past you to the motel door, cracking it open and pausing. “We should get going.”

“You sure I’m not going to lose it? Get too carried away and get myself captured?” you said, unable to stop from poking back after his earlier insinuations. Dean’s shoulders rose and fell, one hand going to the doorframe to grip it as you watched the back of his head lower.

“Y/N, don’t you know by now I’m an idiot that’d rather lose you because I’m a dick than find you in the hands of some monster like whoever did that to that poor guy? Don’t you know I know you’re stronger than me? Don’t you think I realize how hard it is to be with someone like me?”

“You don’t stop Sam from doing dangerous things,” you said. “You don’t bring up the past to him.”

“Yes I have,” he said quietly. “And convincing Sam to stay in a motel room where it’s safe to research has never been hard thankfully.”

“You don’t treat me with the same respect though,” you said softly. “It hurts to know you never will think of me as being as capable as he is all because I’m your girlfriend.”

Dean shook his head, straightening his back. “You are more than capable, sweetheart. But sometimes…I just want to be a man that protects his girl. I don’t want to be scared of failing you for once…because if that monster got anywhere near you…”

You took quiet steps over to him, staring at his broad shoulders as they sagged.

“Eventually everyone I love dies or has something awful happen to them. Maybe I don’t say it the right way but fucking hell, all I want is for those things to not happen to you.” He spun around, green eyes full of worry. You nodded, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He squeezed them gently, the warmth of it pleasant.

“Our job is dangerous, Dean. We hunt the monsters, supernatural or not. I love you but you don’t get to keep me locked away.” You ran your thumb over his scuffed up skin, still healing form last week’s hunt. “That said…I promise not to get so angry if you promise to just say you’re scared for me. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, a flicker of a smile on his face. “I just have a bad feeling about this one.”

“Then we’ll be smart, okay?” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And don’t call yourself an idiot. I don’t like it.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s go figure out what the hell is going on.”

Two Hours Later

“This guy’s a fucking psycho,” you said into your phone while Dean came outside with a bag of burgers and fries. “Apparently he sends the hearts to the victims families in a little box with a bow.”

“Sounds about right for a guy who cuts people open for fun,” said Sam on the other end. “I’m gonna pour through the records you just sent over.”

“Alright. Dean and I should be back in fifteen-”

“Why don’t you guys have a date night? I got this for a few hours.” You bit your bottom lip, Sam’s silence going on. “Come on, Y/N. You guys should talk about Dean’s protectiveness and your stubbornness.”

You wanted to argue that fact but sighed, closing your eyes.

“Any suggestions on how we find that line when our job is to hunt killers?” you asked.

“Maybe remember that he’s your boyfriend first, hunting partner second. Most boyfriends wouldn’t want their girlfriend near a serial killer either, no matter what their job.”

“Don’t have good points, Samuel,” you said as Dean took a seat next to you on Baby’s hood. “We’ll be back in two hours.”

You hung up and dove your hand into the bag of fries, smirking when Dean presented you with a chocolate milkshake. He grinned as you dipped the fry in it and tossed it back, giving him a big thumbs up.

“I love you,” you said, Dean smiling as he dug out his burger. “I always love you, even when we fight.”

He glanced at you, landing a gentle kiss on your lips in the next moment. He barely moved his lips, letting them linger instead. He moved back only an inch and nodded. “I was a dickhead earlier. All because I’m afraid of finding you with a serial killer standing over you with a giant ass knife again. I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say that shit in the moment.”

“Because you’re human,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “And you’re so much better at talking to me than five years ago. The old you wouldn’t have even been able to say that to me.”

“I try,” he said, letting you kiss him, your own a tad more forceful than his had been.

“That’s all I ask for,” you said, Dean’s phone going off at that exact moment. He sighed as he took it out, Sam’s name appearing. He tapped it onto speaker and took a bite of his burger. “What’s up Sammy?”

“Guys, I think I figured something out. All the victims were patients at Mercy West hospital back in the day and this latest guy? He was a patient there last week.” You and Dean shared a frown. “Yeah, I know. The cops investigated all of the hospital staff there back then but they never came up with anything. They thought maybe a doctor was behind it but he died in a car accident between the second and third vics.”

“It could have been him and he had a partner. Definitely is someone with access to records so they have to work there,” said Dean as you held up a finger. “What?”

“I could have sworn I’ve heard about this hospital in the news before. Something to do with a boat accident?” you asked. You heard Sam typing loudly before he hummed.

“Yup. They made national news about six months ago when seven of their medical students died in a boating accident. Explosion apparently when they got boozed up and had a bonfire on the boat. The bodies were so bad they couldn’t identify the remains,” said Sam. Dean took another bite of his burger and swallowed. “Already checking through the police files. Shit.”

“Shit what, Sam?” you asked, dunking a fry in your milkshake.

“Shit as in the boat accident wasn’t an accident at all. There was definitely an explosion but they found damage on the bodies indicating some injuries occurred before death. Like being carved up alive. They don’t want the public knowing the killer is still active in the area.”

“It’s gotta be someone linked to that hospital. Only question is why can’t the police figure out who?” asked Dean.

“Good question,” said Sam. “I’m going to keep digging, see if there’s a connection between the two we missed.”

“Thanks Sammy. We’ll be back in twenty to help,” said Dean, hanging up. He glanced at you, biting the inside of his cheek.

“This isn’t a monster,” you said quietly. “At least, it’s a human one.”

Dean polished off the rest of his meal quietly, the air still for a few beats. 

“When you get too worried about me on hunts, you put yourself in danger,” you said, slowly sipping from the shake. His heated gaze was on you as you handed him the drink. “You have to trust that I’m strong enough to do this. Careful and capable. We both need to work on that.”

“Alright. But do me a favor? Stick close to me or Sammy on this one. You’re just…” You waited, let him find his words. He took the drink and finished it off, shoving the trash in the bag. “You just got over that shoulder injury. Your punches don’t hit as hard as normal right now. I don’t mean that in a bad way, just-”

“Okay,” you said, finding his hand, slipping yours inside. “Now let’s figure out who this bastard is.”

He hummed, letting go of you for a brief moment so he could toss the garbage away. You slid inside the passenger seat, Dean back and behind the wheel after the blink of an eye. Approximately ten seconds later you were pulling out of the parking lot and on the road, headed down main street and for the motel.

“So I was thinking this guy does autopsies on victims right?” said Dean, turning the radio down low on a soft rock station. You glanced out the window on the dark night, a rumble of thunder overhead. “But the cops can’t find him. Well, isn’t there someone that sometimes works at hospitals and for the police that would be able to fuck with a body after the fact and hide traces of their involvement?”

“A pathologist. I was thinking that too but wouldn’t that have been their first look? I mean they literally call them the Pathology Murders,” you said, waiting for the the light to turn green. “It could be someone that knows someone at the department covering for them. Stranger things have happened.”

“Maybe. I get the gist this guy works alone though. I only clocked one set of boots at the scene this morning,” he said, the bright green light illuminating the dark interior.

“Same. It’s absolutely someone associated with that damn hospital-” you said, Dean’s arm shooting in front of you in your peripheral. A millisecond later, something slammed into the right side of Baby, your side. Your lap belt tugged on you hard as your body lolled to the side, weightless for a moment before gravity reared it’s ugly head and slammed you down. Your head smacked something hard and it all went dark.

You could hear Dean asking a paramedic a million questions, not a single one concerned about himself. You opened your eyes to find yourself in the back of an ambulance, Dean lying on a stretcher beside you. He could tell you were awake and struggled to reach over to you but couldn’t. Instead he thrashed his head back against his pillow in defeat, straining against the straps that held him down.

“Sir, I need you to calm down,” said the paramedic as you blinked slowly at Dean. You knew something was wrong with you, with both of you, but you weren’t quite sure what that was yet. You struggled when you saw Dean upset. You wanted him to feel better. “You need to relax, she’s seeing you panic and that’s making her do the same.”

Dean stopped as he took in how your heart rate had skyrocketed, how scared you looked. He sighed and forced himself to stay calm. You saw him relax and heard him say it was okay. Neither of you enjoyed the feeling of being tied down, especially when the both of you were in plain view of one another and couldn’t reach each other. You tried to speak but couldn’t as you felt how raw your throat was. 

“We’ll be at Mercy West in just a few minutes,” said the paramedic to Dean as you half-listened. 

“No, take us somewhere else!” yelled Dean suddenly, fighting again. The paramedic sighed as you both started struggling once more. You didn’t have much of an idea of what was going on but if Dean didn’t want to go there, it wasn’t safe. 

“I’m going to give each of you a sedative and by the time you wake up, you’ll be in your hospital beds feeling a lot better,” he said gently. 

“No, don’t you touch her,” said Dean as you started to get very sleepy. The last thing you saw was Dean shutting his eyes as you finally remembered what had happened.

If Sam didn’t get to you soon, you were screwed.

Your eyes wearily opened under bright lights that made your head hurt. You winced and turned away from it, limbs heavy and still. Dean’s voice echoed somewhere, to your left maybe? You forced your eyes open again, Dean strapped down to a metal table with metal drawers behind him, the look on his face like he was screaming at you. You blinked, the ringing in your eyes loud and obnoxious, droning him out.

“Get up, fucking get up!” Dean shouted so loud you shook your head, a splitting headache cracking over you. “Y/N get out of here!” 

It took only a moment to discover that unlike Dean, you weren’t restrained in what was most likely the hospital morgue. Something was wrong though. A sedative? No. You were becoming more alert if anything but your arms were growing more tired, head becoming too heavy to lift.

“Something’s off,” you tried to say, the words caught in your throat, unable to be voiced. Your eyes flared wide, Dean’s drifting past you.

“Someone took a long time to wake up,” said a voice to your right. Suddenly a hand was under your head.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Dean snarled, your head set on a…stand? Something to keep it elevated and from rolling to the side. You tried to move but the message wasn’t getting to your body, your eyes glued on the handsome face with a just slightly off smile leaning over you.

“You were in a nasty accident, Agent Carlson. Unfortunately for you, your head trauma was too severe and you coded in the ER. Meanwhile Agent Manns in his grief unfortunately succumbed to his injuries. At least that’s what the autopsy report will say,” he said, inspecting what felt like a cut on your temple. “Such a shame. It won’t be my best work but you’re not the first law enforcement to cross me. Sadly no one will be able to discover your remains once you’re accidentally incinerated as John and Jane Doe but it’s good practice.”

“Let her go you fucking psycho,” growled Dean when the doctor moved out of view and returned with a pair of shears. 

“Psycho? I’m Dr. Thomas, ER Trauma physician and part-time pathologist. I’ve saved far more lives than I’ve taken, Agent Manns,” he said, snipping through your blouse. 

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Dr. Thomas bagged your shirt in a plastic bag nearby, doing the same with your pants and boots once they’d been removed.

“Paralyzing agent. Hard to come by but it has it’s advantages. No messy straps or ropes in the way,” he said, lifting your arm as you watched helplessly, cold metal against your skin as he cut through your bra straps.

“I swear to god I’m going to rip your spine out of your fucking face. If you touch her-”

“Not my style,” said Dr. Thomas, pulling away the fabric, sending a chill down your back. He gave you his focus again, a smirk on his face as he put two fingers to your neck. “Your heart is hammering away, isn’t it? Biology is fascinating that way. It’s so strange how an emotion such as fear can cause physical reactions in our bodies.”

“Get the fuck away from her!” shouted Dean. Dr. Thomas’ smile towards you dropped when he looked at Dean. He sighed and set the shears down, walking out of view.

“You’re really starting to irritate me,” he said, the distinct sound of tape being ripped from a roll filling the room and then Dean’s cries became muffled, only quiet thumping as he struggled coming from him now. Dr. Thomas appeared again wearing another smile. “Sorry about that. It’s always the men that get all squirmy. The women always live longer. Now, one could argue that’s because women have on average more blood in their bodies than men but I’ve gotten a fairly large sample size over the past decade to believe they’re psychologically stronger and therefore last longer.”

You tried hard to move your hand when he held up a scalpel near your face but nothing worked. 

Fuck if you could move anything you’d be shaking harder than a tree in a damn hurricane. Dean struggling right beside you with a front row seat was not helping.

“Now I like to explain all of my procedures to my patients beforehand. While you are paralyzed to a degree, you will still feel things. That’s perfectly normal.” You were wide eyed, Dr. Thomas chuckling. “The procedure typically takes me around thirty minutes. However, you’ll die from the blood loss or shock after roughly seven so don’t worry about that aspect. Considering you were in an accident less than an hour ago, I suspect it’s more like four or five for you which is unfortunate for me but it is what it is. Perhaps Agent Manns will give me more time.”

He lowered the scalpel to your shoulder and dug in hard to the skin, dragging it inward towards your chest. Your scream was caught in your throat as he did it on the other side to match.

Dean was shouting and thrashing on the table beside you but you couldn’t even turn your head to look. Dr. Thomas started talking about incisions and procedures and then you felt something completely unnatural against your arm, another shout trapped in your lungs. Forget the brave face. You would have been full on wailing if you were capable of it.

Crack. Snap. Shudder. Rip. It was around the time that Dr. Thomas held up something dark red and sticky looking that your body decided passing out was the best course of action. Unfortunately, it wasn’t doing that for some reason and you were stuck on the edge of consciousness, terrified and wishing something would come along and smash your head in to end this.

A loud bang shot out and something heavy smacked your leg, something else skirting against your side. 

“Dear god,” whispered Sam. Your eyes were locked open as you heard Sam rush over, staring down at you for only a split second before he moved to Dean. 

That was not good. You were far more injured that Dean, somewhere on the verge of death if you figured. Sam would have stopped to help you first.

Unless you were beyond saving.

“Sweetheart,” said Dean, grabbing one of your blood covered hands in both of his. Fuck he was crying. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so totally fucked. He looked over to Sam, Sam staring back with an open mouth. They couldn’t fix this. Shit, shit. You were going to die cut open like a Thanksgiving turkey. “W-What about Cas?”

“Dean,” said Sam, an air of resignation in his voice. “He’s in Kansas.”

“Jack then.”

“He’s with Cas. He doesn’t know how to-”

“A spell, a cure, something! Take her upstairs to a fucking doctor!” shouted Dean. 

“De. Half of her organs are…” said Sam as you got light headed, Dean’s hand running over your head. Dean found your face, his chin wobbling. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Then we sit with our girl,” said Dean softly, tucking a hair behind your ear. “And you fall asleep, sweetheart and when you wake up again, you’ll feel all better. I’ll come find you someday. Okay? Just close your eyes and try to sleep for me.”

Dean lowered his head, kissing your forehead as he fought back the tears that wanted to spill over. Sam took your other hand, squeezing it gently as you tried to do what he asked.

“Bloody hell, of course a Winchester took out a nutter like that. I’d have thunk he deserved more than a bullet,” said a familiar voice. 

“Rowena?” both boys echoed. She didn’t respond though, Sam’s hand dropping yours as a flash of red hair moved in front of you. You stared up at her, her hands cradling your cheeks.

“Dean, let go.” He did and about two seconds later you were shot straight upright, body in one piece, full of feeling and horror as you wrapped your arms over your chest, looking all around. 

“What the hell was that?” asked Sam while Dean shrugged out of his fed jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders, buttoning you up before he picked you up and was cradling you in his arms.

Rowena faced him with a hand on her hip, your own gaze falling down to where a dead Dr. Thomas lay on the floor, blood oozing from the back of his open head.

“Do you boys still not see me as a friend?” she asked, an undercurrent of hurt in her voice. You were shaking in Dean’s arms, clutching to his shirt with your too long sleeves. 

“You’re the queen of hell. Why would you stop a death?” asked Sam. She rolled her eyes and approached you, resting a hand on your arm.

“Because I’m the queen of hell and I do as I please, Samuel.” You wanted to say thank you but all you could manage was a few jumbled words as you buried yourself in Dean’s neck. “She’s in shock, quite bad. Best to take her home and let her rest.”

“Thank you Rowena,” said Dean, walking past her, stopping near the entrance to the room. “Next time you need something, just let us know and we’ll help.”

“Of course. I’ll take care of this mess. Oh and Y/N, dear?” You managed to lift your head, grateful to find Sam was right on Dean’s heels. “This lad is going to be spending a lot of time on the receiving end of what he gave out up here down in hell. I promise you that.”

You nodded, giving her a thumbs up. Dean kissed the top of your head, his hold on you tight.

“You’re going to be alright, sweetheart. Just give it some time.”

“How’s that feel?” asked Dean for what felt like the twentieth time back at the motel. You’d showered, took another another shower, took a bath, took another shower and currently were wrapped up in a mess of Dean’s pajamas on the bed with a big towel in your hair. 

“Better,” you said, your voice back with you once you’d gotten out of the hospital morgue. Sam was off relaying what he’d found to the local police. Apparently Dr. Thomas had worked on a few cases for the county but his sister it turned out was a hot shot detective who’d been covering for him for years. It was how he’d found out about you and Dean investigating.

Honestly that woman would be better off going out like her brother. She’d covered up a lot of murders for her brother. It’d be a miracle if someone didn’t take her out before then. Not that you particularly would mind that. 

You patted the bed beside you, Dean taking a seat and pulling you into his lap. He removed the damp towel and nuzzled the top of your head with his cheek, strong arms wrapped all around your body.

“So we really nailed that whole careful thing, huh?” you said. Dean chuckled deeply, inhaling the scent of your damp hair, a pretty lilac and vanilla blend you knew he liked. 

“How do you do that? Make me laugh when I don’t feel like ever laughing again,” he said, tightening his hold.

“Because I’m hilarious,” you said, closing your eyes, wrapping your hands around his forearms. “You might not understand this but what you said when I thought…you made me feel safe even when I was scared that was it. You were a guy protecting his girl tonight, even if it’s not the way you meant it.”

“Meant every word,” he whispered, breathing slowly. 

“Don’t you dare fucking apologize for not stopping it. There’s no way we saw that coming.”

“Okay,” he said, draping his legs over yours, leaning back against the headboard with you. “How’s that feel? Comfy?”

You smiled as you rolled your eyes at him, tucking in closer. “I got you, Winchester. I’ll be alright. A chocolate milkshake and order of fries wouldn’t hurt though.”

“You’re hungry? After all that?” he chuckled. 

“Yup. Ask Sam to pick some up on his way back,” you said, tilting your head back, kissing under his jaw. “Our date got cut short after all.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You couldn’t talk earlier,” he said, taking your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’ll have nightmares, I’m sure, and all the other crap we get. But right now in this moment, with you, I’m okay.” He smiled, holding your body against his.

“I love you so much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Even if you do get kidnapped by serial killers.” You whacked his leg, Dean’s laugh rumbling against your back.

“Love you too, ya dork.”

_________

[reiderwriter]

Hii~ First of all I love your writing!

Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨

Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.

Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 

“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 

In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 

“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.

“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 

“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 

“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 

“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 

“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 

“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 

Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” 

“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 

“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 

“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 

“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 

“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 

“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 

“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 

You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 

“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 

You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 

After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 

“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 

“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 

“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 

“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 

“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 

“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 

“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 

[moneymilf]

Helpful hints this holiday season

Holiday Shopping Saving Trick

I care across this a while ago but will share with you all a great trick to be prepared for any holiday or birthday. GIFT CARDS!!!!! You don’t have to gift the gift cards (although for that hard shopper it might be a good idea) but use them to shop for those holiday occasions. How? Simple, but gift cards to places you usually buy gifts and save them in a safe place, when holiday time comes or even a birthday you have you shopping already budgeted. Here is the best way to stock/obtain gift cards for the holidays:

1. Tax Refund: Most middle-low income families get a refund for taxes. Why not plan ahead? Buy a gift card or two. Make these larger amounts like $100 or more. That way you don’t have to borrow as much if any around the holidays.

2. Apps: Why not earn them!!! There are many apps to earn gift cards especially as you shop. Apps like Drop let you connect your card and earn for shopping. With your points redeem gift cards. Fetch let you scan your receipts 🧾 and get point towards gift cards as well. Honey and RetailMeNot also gain points for shopping 🛍 that can be turned into gift cards.

3. Cash Back: Many debt, credit and now even pre-paid cards have cash back options or features. Usually it is deposit around a certain time frame. There are also cash back apps like Honey and Spent. Use the extra cash to get gift cards.

4. Surveys: Not the most lucrative but can do the job. Paid surveys sometimes offer cash or points that can convert to gift cards.

5. Weekly/Monthly Budget: If you can manage you can also just set a monthly or weekly budget. $5/week is $20 a month, 20 x 12 = $240 in gift cards. You can budget however much you want but make sure it’s an affordable amount.

6. Child Support: For mom’s fortunate enough to actually get child support payments you can take part of that payment and get gift cards. On a monthly basis it adds up.

These are examples but whether you budget the amount or use extra income over the year there are ways to save during the holidays by saving gift cards throughout the year.

[security-unit]

okay but after its govmod is hacked, MB mentioned that Unnamed is probably going to keep doing its job and pretending like MB did.

like MB did... for nearly 4 years. and it would have KEPT doing it had The Survey not happened.

except.

Unnamed didn't hack itself. Unnamed had an interaction with a rogue secunit with its own crew who cared about it and who it cared about in turn. That's a far different experience than MB had. and sure, it does presumably go back to Barish Estranza and keep doing its job for a bit, but don't forget that the other unit is also hacked now, once it starts up again. it isn't alone. (for a bit I forgot about the other unit. maybe that one is named Kevin.)

my main point is that Unnamed started its life as a rogue through external kindness, and it showed kindness in return, while MB started its life as a rogue after it killed a bunch of members from a mining installation, and it wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

Unnamed's very first action when it gains free will is to help.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER TWO: SPIDEY LUCK (GOOD OR BAD? YOU'LL NEVER KNOW)

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ You're adjusting well, comfortable with your new life. Too bad your spidey luck came with you to this universe. He offers his arm to you, but you hold out palm. “You’re nice and all, but I’m not letting you know where I live just yet.” He gives you confused puppy eyes. “You’re cute, but not that cute,” you pat his cheek as you walk past him. He watches you walk past him, before remembering himself and calls out. “What’s your name?” “Not that cute!” You remind him. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: cursing, mentions of discrimination based on financial situation, a vague-ish sex joke wc: 2.7k

Setting up an identity for yourself is remarkably easy. Natasha taught you just about everything you need to know. To the world, you are now [Name] Stark. Tony Stark is an eccentric recluse from Queens, with a mysterious inheritance allowing for travel around the world. And you, his curious child are now old enough to find her own way in the world, starting in Gotham. It’s messy, but hopefully it can keep people off your ass for a while.

Hacking into the wealth of Gotham’s elite is easy enough, stealing little by little every day so that they don’t notice (they probably wouldn’t, anyway). You steer clear of anything and everything Wayne related. For now, at least, it wouldn’t hurt to get ahold of some of his tech down the line.

Walking down the streets of Gotham is something your sense may never get used to. It’s easy to hide feeling threatened by everything, but it’s not easy to stop feeling threatened by everything. While you are certain you can handle a few common thugs or muggers, you are not excited to face your first round of fear gas. If it comes down to it, you’ll rely on your suit to protect you from it… hopefully it can.

Getting to East End is easy enough despite all the leers you get. Selina Kyle’s territory is riddled with crime and misdemeanor as much as the rest of the city, but it’s one of the cheaper areas. You’re legally old enough to get your own place, and with the money you take and a job you can hopefully find, you’ll be able to get by alright. As a hero, you should probably feel bad about stealing, but it’s not like millionaire’s and billionaire’s need a couple hundred dollars.

You walk into the rundown building, surveying the interior. It’s certainly seen better days, if the ripped up wallpaper and stains in the carpet are anything to go by. There’s no one at the front desk, so you ring the little bell and wait. Tapping your foot, your thoughts wonder.

You’ve been thinking about enrolling into Gotham Academy. It’s risky, since Robin goes there (you looked it up earlier, he’s around the same age as you), but you know that school has damn good funding, and good funding means a good lab. A lab or workshop is essential to you as a Spider.

A hobbling old lady stumbles out towards the front desk, her smile is sweet. “How can I help you, dear?”

You put on your best unassuming smile. “I’d like to sign a lease to rent out an apartment here.”

“Sure, hun. Just give me the deposit and it’s yours.”

You’re taken aback. “Surely it’s not that easy, miss…?” You prompt.

“May. Listen kid,” she leans in. “We don’t ask too many questions ‘round here. I can spot a troubled kid from a mile away.”

Of course her name is May. You smile, awkward. “I’m eighteen.”

“Eighteen is nothing on my years, girl.”

You inhale and grasp your hands together. “Well, I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. When can I move in?”

May grabs your arm and leads you up the stairs. “First door on the right, third floor.”

The apartment is in one piece, only some cracks in the walls. There’s a distinct smell in the air, but you’ll make yourself used to it. There’s some furniture left behind by the previous owner (a bed too, but you’re definitely replacing the mattress). It’s quaint, for Gotham.

“I should warn you, a lot of stray cats come and go. Don’t be afraid to feed ‘em, they’re already coming back anyway,” May huffs.

You smile discreetly. “I got it.

“I would’ve thought you’d lose interest in those things by now.”

Growing up you dabbled in one thing to the next. Gymnastics, volleyball, cheerleading. At one point you wanted to go to space camp, but didn’t want to be away from your aunt and uncle. Your interests come and go, never staying long, but your love for comics has always been constant.

“I’ve been fighting for my freedom since day one,” you jest.

Aunt May sits down next to you. “You know how rich I’d probably be if I got all the money back from buying you those things over the years?” She leans in, whispering, “richer than Tony Stark.”

You snort. “No one’s richer than him.” You pause, thinking. “Actually, Bruce Wayne might be.”

“Is that the Manbat guy you’re reading about?”

“ Batman , May.”

She kisses your head, grabbing the comic out of your hands. “Well, you know what they say. Bad kids who don’t go to sleep at bedtime get snatched up by Batman and his bird sidekick.”

You lean back against your pillows, wrapping yourself up in your blanket. “No one says that.”

“I do. Goodnight, tiger.”

The past week you’ve been making moves. You land a job as a waitress in a nice little cafe around the corner, and you’ve settled in nicely into your apartment. You find out May likes her coffee 2 cream no sugar and she religiously watches telenovelas. On top of that, you’ve made friends with a black cat you’ve affectionately named Nari.

“Alright K, show me past entrance exams for Gotham Academy.”

Uploading Karen into the laptop you bought allowed for you to multitask much more efficiently. You’re trying to emulate an environment you’re familiar with, like FRIDAY back at the Tower, but you have nowhere near the same budget as Tony does. You sigh. The entrance exams for GA are in a week, but you’re not too stressed. You started taking online classes when you moved into the Tower, and breezed past them like it was nothing. You graduated high school 2 years earlier than normal (you could’ve done it in one, but Tony insisted on human interaction (even if you only got it at dances and other school events)).

Looking over the options pulled up, you scoff. “This is shockingly easy for such a prestigious school,” you murmur.

“Perhaps you are just more gifted than them, [Name].”

You coo, “always my biggest fan, K.” You close the laptop, not before transferring Karen into an earbud formed from your suits nanites. “I think I got this in the bag.”

The bells on the cafe’s door ring as you enter. “Hey, cutie,” you flirt at your manager, a woman with 3 kids and a husband (but damn if she isn’t fine).

[Name],” they greet dryly. They put the spoon they’re cleaning down. “Sam’s gonna be late, some lunatic died on the tracks and their ride’s been delayed.”

You hum, having gotten used to Gothamites and their disregard for the weird shit that happens in their city. “What an asshole.”

The morning passes slowly. You spot some stressed folks hunched over their laptops and an old red-head guy reading through the morning paper. The door chimes, signaling somebody’s entrance.

“Welcome to Carrie’s, what can I get you?” You drone, not looking up from the game of Crossy Road you’re definitely not supposed to be playing while on shift.

“Just a small vanilla latte, please.”

You hum, typing it up. “And a name for that?” you question, grabbing the small cup. The young man has wind-swept black hair. He’s got big ole blue eyes, the type that remind you of childhood innocence. His stature is casual and unassuming, but you can see the strength he hides under that big sweater he wears. He almost reminds you of–

“Jon,” he smiles kindly.

Jonathan motherfucking Kent goddammit.

You muster every ounce of will you have to prevent your heart from speeding up, lest he hear it. You scribble his name with tactically careful hands. “It’ll be right out, sir.”

Jon huffs goodnaturedly, waving his hand. “Please, you don’t gotta call me sir. Jon is fine, if you’re comfortable.”

You smile, “sure thing, Jon,” and let your eyes widen when you turn around to pass the order to Sam. They look at you odd when you hand them the cup, but make it without a fuss. They’re weirdly good at seeing through people. “Is he real cute or something?” They ask.

You’re not sure if Jon always uses his super hearing. You imagine he doesn’t out of respect and not wanting to intrude, but you know he’s probably always got an ear out for trouble. Even so, you’ll be caught dead before he has the chance to hear you geek over him.

“Mid,” you scoff, like a liar.

Stupid spidey luck, you swear. Maybe this universe is sentient and is out to get you for real. Jon Kent is, by all means, a cute nerd, but he’s also Superboy . With super strength and laser eyes. Maybe you should, like, break into LexCorp or something. Having kryptonite on hand doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

But maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself. You take a deep breath, relax , you. You’ve got training from the goddamn Avengers . You got this in the bag! No need to jump the gun. 

Sam takes the order to the front and calls out, “Small vanilla latte for Jon?” Said Jon walks up to the counter, taking the cup and his eyebrows slightly quirk up. Your super hearing picks up his mutter of, “spelled it right…” as he walks off.

“Nervous for the exam?” Sam hums, messing with your earlobe.

“Nah,” you scoff. “It looks like real easy stuff.” You’re more worried about the kind of kids that go there. You’re not foolish enough to think that everybody will be welcoming to a scholarship kid. You’re just thankful you can afford to not look like you’re living on the streets, ‘cause you’re sure at that point you’ll get bullied relentlessly. Nevertheless, your feelings aren’t so easily hurt.

Sam points a finger at you. “Don’t let nobody bully you, those good-for-nothing rich kids wouldn’t last a day out there in the real world. They probably wouldn’t have gotten in without their parents' money anyway.” They grab your shoulders, looking you in the eye. You raise your brows. “I’ll never forget that you did my college level algebra work for me. Seriously, I’ll start paying you to do my work.”

You take their hands. “It’s not a good idea to cheat through college when you’re trying to be a Vet. Probably.”

“I’m saying that you’re way smarter than those losers. They got nothing on you, babes.”

You smile, winking. “I know.” Their smile is sharp. “What’s your beef with the rich anyway? Besides the fact that they’re cheating at life.” You ignore the fact that you technically were rich, in this life and the last.

“Until Bruce Wayne pays my tuition, rich people are useless. All of ‘em.”

Carrie lets you off early to take your exam, and you’re sent off with encouragement all around. Karen guides you along the way, speaking into your ear. Humming a song under your breath, you almost miss the hand reaching out to grab you. You grip the offender’s wrist and whirl around to face them.

It’s Jon. He’s looking at you with wide-eyes.

You furrow your brows. “The fuck, man? Don’t go grabbing people in Gotham.”

His eyes widen even further, hastily removing his grip around your arm. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry. I just heard you talking about the entrance exams. For GA right? I know the way, I can show you.”

You look him up and down. “You were listening to my conversation? How? You were, like, across the cafe.”

He sputters. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I just thought I could…” he hesitates, now realizing how weird this is, “...help. And I have really good hearing. Normally good, anyway.”

You stare at him. How is this absolute loser (loving) Superboy? You chuckle. “You’re definitely not from Gotham, are you?”

He relaxes at your smile. “No, is it obvious?”

“Very.” You hook your arm around his. “Lead the way, hero.”

His face flushes, but ever the gentlemen, he doesn’t shove you off. He actually seems to lean into your touch. “So,” you tut as the two of you begin walking, “where are you from, then?”

“Metropolis. I grew up in Smallville for a while though, know it?”

“Kansas, right?” He nods.

“So, was it my dashing good looks that called your name or a biological need to mate?”

He chokes on nothing. “I mean, normal people don’t approach like you did. I know you’ve never seen a beauty like me, but seriously, this whole thing is kinda creepy,” you hum.

He kind of just stares at you. You stare back, and he breaks and chuckles breathily. “I mean, you are pretty cute,” he flirts. Your brows raise in surprise, smiling pleasantly in surprise. “I don’t know, I just like helping people. I’ve always felt the need to do so.” He trails off in thought. “It’s just… who I am.”

It’s fascinating to see the very essence of Superboy in the flesh. You cough and turn your head away. “Pretty corny, if you ask me. But…” you turn back and look at him. “I get it. I like helping the little guys myself.”

“Little guys?”

“Little guys.”

You stop upon the gates of the school, looming above you dauntingly. You turn to face Jon. “How do I look?” He gives you a scrutinizing look before motioning for you to do a spin. You’re wearing a simple hoodie and sweats with slightly beat-up sneakers. Your clothes don’t have to impress anyone, just your score. He thinks seriously, before nodding.

“Looks good to me.”

You chuckle, walking towards the entrance. “See you around, hero.”

“Your heart is racing, [Name].”

“How about we stop talking for a while.”

He watches you walk off. His eyes watch the sway of your hips before he shakes himself out of it. Then, he groans.

“I forgot to get their name.”

The room is cold and only filled with a few students. Their faces are nervous, and if they aren’t, their demeanor is. They’re obviously middle or lower-class kids. You root for them in your head. They’re also in nicer clothes than you are, whoops.

Like you thought, the test is super easy. You finish it far before anyone else, and sit in silence as the clock ticks. You flick the pencil in your hand around, twirling it. Sooner or later, you’ll have to start finding a way back home. You regret not paying attention when Miguel explained things to you. There’s also that whole particle accelerator thing. You sincerely doubt you’ll be able to build something like that yourself. You don’t have access to that kind of money or material, so you’ll find a way to build a watch. Hobie did it, why can’t you?

“Time’s up.”

You blink. The test proctor makes her way around the room, picking up tests as she goes. She gives you a subtle stink-eye when she makes her way to you, and you look her head on. She huffs and makes her way to the front of the room when she’s done.

“You’ll receive a letter of acceptance or denial in a week’s time.” She emphasizes denial and looks straight at you when she does. What a hater.

You walk out the school feeling light. The sky is still cloudy, as it always is. Then, you’re eyes spot a figure waving at you from outside the gate. It’s Jon. What the fu–

You pause in your tracks as he walks up to you.

“So? How’d it go?”

He meets your incredulous stare. “...what?”

“Were you waiting here the whole time?” The test was 2 hours long!

His eyes widened. “No! I went and did some errands. I just came back like five minutes ago.”

You huff in disbelief. “How’d you know when it would be over?”

“My friend has taken it before.” He probably means Damian.

He offers his arm to you, but you hold out palm. “You’re nice and all, but I’m not letting you know where I live just yet.” He gives you confused puppy eyes. “You’re cute, but not that cute,” you pat his cheek as you walk past him.

He watches you walk past him, before remembering himself and calls out. “What’s your name?”

“Not that cute!” You remind him.

He chuckles in disbelief. He’ll find it out.

notes: i didn't plan for jon to kinda be whipped with reader but i couldnt stop my hands. apologies if he's ooc bc i have not read a single dc comic and all my characterization of him comes through fanfics ive read LOL. i imagine he'd be a little flirty once he get's comfortable with his Superboy mantle.

also he's not like immediately in love with reader or anything, he's just being a teenage boy. he'll get a grip eventually. probably.

karen: why does superboy call you babygirl

reader: how about we stop talking for a little while - jon: how did you know who to spell my name without the h? most people spell it 'john'.

reader: *nervous sweating*

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/738798264594415616/141-k%C3%B6nig-sex-bloopers

sorry yeah that's it i meant irl it's not perfect and stuff happens sometimes :) whatever ignore this im silly

you're not silly, i loved this :') <3 this might be cringe and it's ooc/rushed/headcannons but LMAOO i tried my best :") nsfw/sfw ahead!

part 2

the not so sexy moments of sex with the 141

price trying to be all sexy and suave loosening his top and removing his bucket hat in an act of seduction which results in him stubbing his toe and yelping in pain for a good few minutes

gaz panicking at the thought of his cum going into your eye after a blowjob and proceeding to scare himself for days on the off-chance you develope some sort of eye infection

soap after getting slightly confused with what he was doing grabbed a diagram of a vagina and made you hold it so he could have better success rate of making you cum

simon screeching loudly after snapping on his latex condom a little harder than recommended. bear with him, he has to take a few minutes, his body took a screenshot from how intense it was

price ending up falling asleep during a hand job but in his defence he was on five days with three hours of sleep and a whole bunch of coffee that was keeping him going

gaz very confidently and with that half smirk of his, mid way giving you the best head asking you if you're about to have an organism

soap realizing very quickly that food play is not like the movies and that it stings/burns, proceeds to awkwardly hop and waddle into the bathroom

simon trying be all cute and romantic which results in him spooning you close to his body, only to proceed to hack and choke when he inhaled your hair by accident

price having the lack of coordination after he tried to undress himself trying to come over to the bed and ending up face planting into the floor with a huge thud and a string of curse words following by (this mans just stays falling LMAO)

gaz genuinely ashamed about tearing your expensive lingerie in his excitement that he gives himself a time out and learns the true meaning patience

simon, bless his heart, already breaking the bedframe in his excitement when he grabbed you and pinned you against it.

gaz frantically trying to get it back it up, cussing his cock out and trying to awkwardly laugh but it comes out as a cry for help

simon slamming his forehead into the doorframe when he tried to be all hot and sexy, proceeding to cut himself and cuss everything out within a 10 mile radius (never you though :3)

soap's confidence absolutely obliterating when he was so turned on he ended up cumming while trying to get inside you

gaz making you take a survey after sex and telling you to rate the experience and what he could improve on next time

simon absolutely enraged at the mark on your neck thinking someone had hurt you, completely forgetting he was the one to leave it on you and it was a hickey

soap falling asleep while trying to go down on you after he finished a long mission. his head was buried between the warmth and comfort of your thighs and his eyes fell like shutters, nuzzling deep unconsciously into your heat

simon just zoning out when staring at your tits, lost in a trance and you're wondering if he's going to actually touch them. he does so but after a good 15 minutes

price squeezing your tiddies to paw at them and get them all perky but ends up feeling your ribs in the darkness and gets excited.

soap just poking at your nipple mid thrust in pure curiosity. not even to flick or pinch them, just a small poke before he goes back to doing what he was doing

gaz having a sneezing fit when he tried to lick your neck and chest only to be allergic to the perfume you were wearing