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incognit0slut · 2 years ago

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MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

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prettieinpink · 8 months ago

Text

MY FAVOURITE PRODUCTIVITY HACKS, SYSTEMS & TOOLS

Disclaimer: I have no idea if these are actual practices with real names. Some hacks I knew of before and learnt, and some I’ve developed myself.

SANDWICH METHOD. For me, It’s difficult to get into the flow of doing a difficult task. Instead of facing the task head-on, I start with something that's productive but doesn’t take too much mental or physical energy. For example, If I want to study, but I’m not in flow, I’ll just start by doing some Duolingo or Elevate, which prompts me enough to get started. Then after the difficult task, so that I don’t interrupt that productive flow, I’ll do another easy task like tidying up my room.

5 MINUTES ONLY. If I’m desperate to not do a task at all, like I’m on my period, sick, or overall in a bad mood, I’ll tell myself, just five minutes of doing said task. 90% of the time I keep on going to complete that task. However, in that 10% when I don’t continue, at least I had 5 minutes of progress for that day, so it's not wasted at all. Plus, typically when I don’t follow through after the 5 minutes, it’s a sign that my body or mind is just not up to it today and forcing it will strain me.

BIG THREE SYSTEM. If you usually have a long to-do list for the day, I recommend this system. In the big three system, you only have 3 tasks to do each day. These tasks are both urgent and important. If they are one or the other, or neither, I would cross it off and try to narrow it down to three each day.

Having just three each day is less overwhelming, it’s easier to remember throughout the day which tasks you have to complete.

MAJOR & MINOR SYSTEM. If you’re someone who just can’t narrow it down to just three, then this system might work better for you. So, each day you have 1-3 major tasks, and 1-3 minor tasks. Major tasks are both urgent and important, while minor tasks can be either or the other (but not neither).

It helps to relieve the pressure of having big tasks only for the day ahead, as you have some tasks that are smaller and easier, hence minor.

WANTS AND NEEDS. I haven’t used this system intensively yet, but I would use it if I were getting out of a rut or a slump. Make a list of 1-3 things that you need to do. I would make these tasks a bit more on the simpler side if I were using this system, but that’s just my preference. Then make a list of 1-3 things that you want to do.

Then once you’ve completed at least 1 task, you get to do something that you want for that day. I wouldn’t use this as a permanent system, but it's up to you.

BRAINDUMPING. I don’t braindump at a specific time of the day, what I do instead is write whenever. I always have my phone close by or Macbook, so in my notion, I’ll write in my braindump section quickly and then put it away.

You could carry a notepad, or write it down in your journal at the end of the day but I recommend recording ideas or thoughts instead of letting them float away.

That’s it for the day! Hope you stay hydrated and safe, especially during the holidays.

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izzih22 · 3 months ago

Note

maybe paige is on her period and a hormonal wreck and crampy but didn’t tell azzi because she didn’t want to worry her and the next day in practice she missed an easy layup or geno yelled at her and she burst into tears and everyone was shocked and azzi didn’t know why paige was so upset and then paige cried again when she forgot extra stuff and then everyone made fun of her after practice or something (lightheartedly ofc) especially nika or ice and then the next day at practice she cried again and geno was confused and then nika or ice or whoever you choose laughed at her (they still cared for her) and then they get their period as well and paige cried to azzi obv lol

Hormones And Huskies

Note: I think I got it all. I also think this one’s pretty funny ngl😂

It starts with the cramps.

Not the kind Paige can ignore, either — not the dull ache she usually powers through with Advil and a heating pad and pure stubbornness. No, these are gnarly. The kind that make her curl up in bed and go, “Is this what dying feels like?”

But there’s a game this weekend. Film to study. Practice to run. Expectations to meet. So she takes three ibuprofen, pretends she’s fine, and doesn’t tell Azzi. She knows Azzi would worry, or hover, or pull her out of drills, and Paige doesn’t want any of that. She just wants to be a functioning human being.

Unfortunately, her body has other plans.

⸻

Day 1: The Meltdown

Practice is intense. Full-speed scrimmage, Geno yelling, girls diving for loose balls like it’s the Final Four.

Paige is playing fine, considering. But then she misses a layup. A bunny. Wide open. Her bread and butter.

She hears Geno’s voice before she even lands. “PAIGE! That’s a layup! A LAYUP! What are we doing?!”

Normally she’d nod, shake it off, and lock in. But today?

Her throat tightens. Her chest caves.

Before she can stop it, tears are sliding down her cheeks.

And not like, discreet watery eyes. No. Full-on red-faced, silent-crying, why am I sobbing tears.

The gym goes quiet.

“Uh…” Ice mutters. “Did someone just break Paige?”

Nika, confused and mildly alarmed, lowers her water bottle. “Is she crying? Is this real? Is this a prank?”

Azzi’s halfway across the court before anyone else can move, eyes wide, worried but calm. She doesn’t say anything, just touches Paige’s elbow gently.

Paige sniffles. “I’m fine.”

“You’re definitely not,” Azzi says, voice low and even.

Paige wipes her face with her jersey, which only makes it worse. Now she looks blotchy and like she has a toddler’s level of emotional regulation.

“Y-you’re gonna think I’m being stupid.”

Azzi shakes her head. “I literally never think that.”

Paige opens her mouth to respond — and bursts into tears again.

KK leans over to Ice. “This is above our pay grade.”

Ice nods solemnly. “I think we broke the golden retriever.”

⸻

Later that day

After practice, Paige opens her locker and realizes she left her extra compression shorts and backup socks in her dorm.

She stares into the empty space.

And starts crying again.

Azzi turns from her own locker, alarmed. “Paige?! What happened?!”

Paige wails, “I FORGOT MY SECOND PAIR OF SOCKS!”

Nika chokes on her protein shake. “No shot you’re crying over socks.”

“I’m emotionally fragile!” Paige shouts through her tears. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

⸻

Day 2: The Chaos Multiplies

The next morning, Paige wakes up still crampy, bloated, and emotionally unstable. She considers faking sick. But that’s not who she is.

Unfortunately, that means she’s crying on the court again. This time because Geno raised his voice while giving her a defensive assignment.

He doesn’t even yell. Just talks firmly.

Cue: Tears.

Geno stares at her, lost.

“What — are you crying again?!”

Paige sniffles. “I don’t know whyyyyy.”

KK hides behind Nika, whispering, “She’s been hacked. We need a factory reset.”

Ice looks around. “We should get a medic.”

Even Azzi, usually calm in the face of Paige-related madness, is speechless. “Okay, babe. What is going on?”

And that’s when Paige finally breaks.

“I’m on my period and I feel like a walking hormone and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry and now I can’t stop crying and I’m sorry if I’m annoying but I really needed my second pair of socks yesterday and I miss my heating pad and I—”

Azzi puts her hands on Paige’s shoulders. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Paige whimpers. “I’m just also dying.”

⸻

Team Chaos: Fully Activated

Once the truth’s out, the floodgates open.

Azzi wraps her up in a hug and kisses her forehead. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve helped.”

“I didn’t wanna be weak.”

“You’re not. You’re just hormonal. There’s a difference.”

Nika, hearing the last part, nods solemnly. “Yup. Been there. I once cried over a grilled cheese.”

KK pipes up, “I cried watching a turtle cross the road.”

Ice shrugs. “I cried in Target because I couldn’t decide between two brands of deodorant.”

“Wait…” KK frowns, rubbing her stomach. “Why do I kinda feel like…”

Ice squints. “Oh no. No, no, no.”

Nika’s eyes widen. “Wait. You guys—?”

“NOOOOOO,” Ice groans. “It’s happening.”

Paige stares at them in horror. “Did I… start the wave?!”

KK collapses dramatically on the bench. “You contaminated us!”

Azzi is dying laughing now, Paige buried in her shoulder, sniffling but giggling through it.

Geno walks by, sees four girls laying on the floor and Paige being spooned by Azzi in the corner.

He pauses. Blinks. Keeps walking.

“I don’t want to know,” he mutters.

⸻

Post-Practice: Team Roast Session

In the locker room, the mood’s lighter. Paige has fully embraced the fact that she’s now the emotional mascot of the team.

She sits curled up next to Azzi, sipping Gatorade, while Nika sits across from her smirking.

“You really cried over socks?”

“Yes.”

KK adds, “And a missed layup.”

“And Geno’s tone of voice,” Ice contributes.

Azzi, lovingly rubbing Paige’s back: “Let’s not forget the great heating pad monologue.”

“Shut up,” Paige groans, shoving her face into Azzi’s shoulder.

Nika pulls out her phone. “I’m writing a memoir. ’The Period Chronicles: Week of Tears.’ You’re chapter one.”

Paige mutters, “I hate all of you.”

Azzi kisses her temple. “You love us.”

“Only you,” Paige mumbles, pouting harder. “And maybe the heating pad.”

⸻

Day 3: It’s All Downhill from Here

By the third day, it’s officially team-wide.

KK and Ice are dragging through warmups, groaning every five minutes. Nika’s got a heating pack tucked into the waistband of her shorts. Geno looks haunted.

Paige? Still crying occasionally. But now it’s funny.

Like when she got misty-eyed because Azzi passed her a water bottle and said “you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Or when Ice said “nice cut” and Paige got overwhelmed by the support.

She sniffled, “I love us.”

KK yelled, “WE’RE LITERALLY JUST PRACTICING.”

⸻

Final Scene: Softness Overload

That night, Paige is curled up in Azzi’s bed, a heating pad on her stomach, a blanket around her shoulders, and a bag of chocolate chips in her lap.

“I’m sorry I was a hormonal disaster,” she mumbles.

Azzi smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were adorable.”

“I cried like… seven times.”

“You’re human.”

“I also started a period chain reaction.”

Azzi laughs softly. “You’re a leader, remember?”

Paige snorts and buries her face in Azzi’s neck. “You’re so annoying for loving me this much.”

Azzi holds her tighter. “You can cry every day for the rest of our lives and I’ll still love you.”

Paige lets out a choked laugh. “Don’t say that or I will cry again.”

Azzi just kisses her cheek and whispers, “Bring it on.”

#paige bueckers #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #paige and azzi #pazzi

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glowettee · 3 months ago

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your dream life is jealous of how much time you spend doomscrolling.

hey sweethearts!! mindy hereeeee, so i've realized something… like how we're all literally addicted to our phones?? and how our dream lives are sitting somewhere in the corner of our minds, pouting and wondering why we never hang out anymore??

i had this moment last week where i realized i'd spent THREE HOURS scrolling through videos of people organizing their fridges (which like… is satisfying but also?? what am i doing with my life). and then i had this thought that actually shook me: what if my future self could see how i'm spending my time right now? would she be proud or would she be like "girl… what are you DOING?"

the truth is that our phones are literally engineered to be more interesting than our real lives. they're designed by actual geniuses who understand our brain chemistry better than we do. it's not a fair fight!! and yet we blame ourselves for not having "enough willpower" which is honestly just mean??

✧ why we're all trapped in the doom-scroll cycle:

our phones deliver perfectly timed dopamine hits (the happy brain chemical!!) that make us feel momentarily good but leave us wanting more

the algorithm knows exactly what will keep us scrolling (it's literally studying us)

our brains are wired to seek novelty and our phones offer infinite novelty

real life has friction and requires effort; scrolling requires zero effort

we use our phones to escape uncomfortable emotions that actually need processing

the comparison trap makes us feel like we're "researching" our dream life rather than building it

i realized something that changed everything for me: the time i spend consuming other people's lives is time i'm not creating my own. and like… that's the whole game??

✧ how to break free (in ways that actually work):

identify your "scroll triggers" - for me it's when i feel anxious about my work, when i first wake up, and weirdly when i'm hungry?? once you know your triggers you can create little alternate pathways

create "phone-free zones" in your home - i have a little basket by my front door where my phone goes when i come home, and my bedroom is completely phone-free (i bought an actual alarm clock like it's 2005 and honestly?? life-changing)

practice the "dopamine pause" - when you feel the urge to reach for your phone, pause for 60 seconds. just sit with the discomfort. often the urge will pass, and if it doesn't, at least you're making a conscious choice

redesign your home screen to be boring af - delete all social apps from your home screen, make everything grayscale, turn off all notifications except calls/texts from actual humans who matter

schedule specific "input" and "output" times - block 30 minutes for consumption and 90 minutes for creation. your ratio should always favor creation over consumption

try "analog hour" before bed - read physical books, write with pen and paper, stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander (this is where all my best ideas come from tbh)

use the "future self" visualization - whenever you're about to fall into a scroll hole, close your eyes and visualize your future self. what would she want you to do with this precious hour of your life?

create ✧ focus-core ✧ routines - these are deeply satisfying rituals that give your brain the same dopamine hit as scrolling but actually build toward your dreams (for me it's making fancy coffee while listening to a specific playlist, then writing for 45 minutes)

practice "productive procrastination" - if you absolutely must avoid your main task, have a secondary important task ready (like if i don't want to write, i'll organize my study materials instead)

implement the "touch it once" rule - when you pick up your phone, have a specific purpose and do ONLY that thing, then put it down

the hardest truth i've had to accept is that there's no magic hack that makes this easy. creating a life that's more interesting than your phone requires actually building that life brick by brick, day by day. and the beginning is SO HARD because your brain is literally withdrawing from its favorite drug.

but i promise you something magical happens after about two weeks - you start to feel… different?? more present? more alive? and you realize that all along, the life you were searching for in your phone was waiting for you to look up.

your dream life is waiting for you to stop watching other people live theirs and start building your own. it's jealous of your phone, yes, but it's also patient. it knows that eventually, you'll come home to yourself.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

p.s. if you catch yourself scrolling after reading this, please don't feel bad!! just gently put your phone down, take a deep breath, and remember that you're breaking a literal addiction. be kind to yourself through the process, okay? tiny steps in the right direction are still steps. 💗

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jscrawls · 6 months ago

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Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, mentions of death, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 4: Plan of action.

🔹🔹🔹

You're restless, the impromptu visit from your supposed “husband” plagues you as you pick apart every second of it, from the mannerisms of him and the doctor to how he spoke to you. Even all the meds they've got you on haven't knocked you out yet even though it's late, the lights dimmed and the rest of the facility has fallen relatively quiet. Nothing else to do you think, piece out what little you have.

You know you died, jumped to your death on an alien planet far from earth. You remember the feeling, the pain, as quick as it was was unbearable, shock not having time to settle in. Yet you're on earth in a hospital bed, an undetermined amount of time having passed, no mention of aliens or the snap or the heroes you worked under. No Thanos. That's the only part you're thankful for.

But a partner? Kids? Not in your life. Something's wrong.

You stare at the dark ceiling for what feels like hours, the lack of Windows frustrates you since you can't even see what time of day it is, just go off the staff's schedules, the room feels like a choke point, a cell, a little box you're shoved into. You just hope they haven't played with the supersoldier serum again. A noise stirs outside your door, you relax your whole body as you wrap your hand around the syringe, subtly popping the cap off.

The door makes little sound, it's well oiled it seems, if it weren't for the air changing you'd have thought it was just someone walking by, a nurse or something. The fact that they're sneaking is enough for you to act, your eyes closed in feigned rest. the air changes again, above your head to the left, quick as a cat you strike out with the syringe.

🔹🔹🔹

If Tim hadn't hadn't just come off a case he might not have been so jumpy, he might have taken the needle right in the neck. He quickly yet awkwardly grabs at the hand and bats it away before he gets stabbed, his eyes widening under the cowl.

“Woah! Woah calm down! Easy I'm one of the good guys.” He holds his hands up placatingly and steps back, what the hell just happened? You were seemingly asleep a second ago!

“Come on, why does everybody go for the neck?” He grumbles as he eyes the syringe, his eyes quickly meeting yours even though his aren't visible, at least you're awake now?…

“good guys don't sneak up on people in hospitals, who are you and how'd you get in here.” Your voice is steely as you study the man, he sounds young, really likes red and black it seems…is that a cape? A bit dramatic for your taste.

“Wha- hey Gotham heroes do! It's our- Okay let's get back on target here, can we put the needle down? You won't be needing that.” He steps closer slowly, when you don't immediately relinquish the makeshift weapon he stops short of the hospital bed.

Gotham huh, sounds like a made-up name. Your expression doesn't falter. “you didn't answer my questions, name and business here?”

“…I'm red Robin, you remember that?”

Your eyes narrow, he's clearly gotten a hold of your diagnosis somehow, bribery? Impersonating a doctor? Hacking? Maybe they're just all in on it.

“No. Why are you named after a fast food joint?” It's a trip question, throw him for a loop to see how he reacts.

He looks taken aback, his foot sliding back slightly as he tilts his head, offended possibly?

“I'm actually moreso honoring Robin, guess it's a bit in the nose eh?”

He glances at you like he expects something, the silence stretches on, you both staring at each other until it starts to get uncomfortable. His feet shift again, his hands start fidgeting with his pockets.

“…who's this Robin?” you ask blankly, fed up with all the name games already. You pull yourself upright in the bed, the syringe still held close to you just Incase.

“You…. Do you remember Batman?” He sounds genuinely upset for a moment, subconsciously leaning towards you. there's that spark of attachment like with the Wayne, what the hells going on?

“bat-man? Like, Chiroptera family, or a baseball bat?”

It's a fair question in your mind, you're no stranger to literal codenames so maybe it's some man with a wooden bat. another staring contest, silence blankets over the two of you for another uncomfortable moment. If this is an interrogation or assassination attempt it's a poor one.

“…how do you even-okay this is getting out of hand. I just wanted to see how you're doing, how's your head?” He starts to gesture towards you and then stops, clearly still wary of the syringe in your fist.

“don't know. pain meds.” Sounds answer enough in your mind, red Robin nods with a slight grimace on what's visible of his face, seemingly satisfied with that.

He shifts from foot to foot, restless or impatient? Head tilting down as he worries his lip, your eyes narrow as you watch the young man process something.

“…. I'm gonna figure something out to help your memory, okay?” He speaks firmly after an awkward moment of silence, reaching out to Pat your shoulder absentmindedly before flinching back again. What is with the familiarity? The people here are too touchy in your opinion.

He ducks out of the room without another word after that, silence falling over you once again, you're not letting that guy anywhere near your memories, that's for sure.

🔹🔹🔹

That was….a lot, Tim's dealt with a lot of weird shit in his day. people high off fear toxin, mind control, time vortex's, but this was just unsettling. In the GC Bruce described them as off, but mostly just disoriented, dazed maybe. They spoke gently and accepted their situation seemingly well. That's not what Tim saw, they were like a completely different person wearing his parent's face. The body language, the aggression, the tone infliction and way of speaking, that wasn't just a younger brain version of them, Tim's sure of it. Maybe they were more affected by the incident than anyone realized?….

Tim leaps rooftop to rooftop as he tries to puzzle it out, dropping down onto a fire escape and pausing, watching the hustle and bustle of Gothams nightlife. He'll figure out a way to help them, and that's a fact.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: didn't forget Timmy boi was with Bruce, he just wanted to show up in dramatic fashion, this almost backfired on him spectacularly.

Taglist: @cxcilla @redsakura101 @mercuryathens @dind1n @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @thewitchblue

#dc x y/n #dc x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman fanfiction #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #black widow reader

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mwinor · 6 months ago

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Life hack

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

⌗ sfw, bondage, teasing, mention of an erection

word count: 536

note: SORRY. I study a lot. Don't unsubscribe from me, please.

Initially, you were going to check out a life hack about how easy it is to get out when your hands are tied. But something went wrong and now Theo is sitting in front of you with his bandage wrists behind his back. He couldn't get out, as shown in the video.

— Baby, untie me. — the guy asked tiredly, when once again he got confused in the instructions.

You grinned and shook your head negatively. Nott looked so vulnerable in that position.

— Wait, Theo, let me admire this wonderful view, — you said, smiling slyly.

You're leaning over him with your hands on the back of a chair. The guy looked at you in surprise, but didn't say anything, afraid to break your idea. You carefully sat on his lap, slightly shifting your hips, which caused him an instant reaction that could not be ignored.

— Listen, honey... can you let me go? — Theo was trying to come to a compromise, not wanting to be a victim in the hands of a little predator.

You giggled and ran your hands over his cheek. His rough features were always softer around you, but the tension in your presence was a novelty. Nott licked his lips, thinking that you were going to kiss him, but you stopped teasingly at his mouth and grinned.

— You're so helpless, Teddy. I really like it. — You whispered.

The guy snorted and couldn't stand your teasing, he bent down to cling to his beloved lips, but did not reach the goal, as you jumped back a little.

— Sunshine, baby, honey, stop teasing me, please. — Nott pleaded with you in a plaintive tone.

You bent down again and brushed your lips over his cheek, leaving small kisses. Theodore tilted his head back, enjoying the touch from his girlfriend. Your kisses touched his neck too. The guy let out a satisfied sigh. You raised your head again and kissed him anyway. Your desire was no less than his. He desperately wanted to touch you, pull you closer to him and crush you under him, but he couldn't do it. His arms tightened even more. At some point, the rope broke and fell to the ground, and Theodore's hands immediately grabbed your hips and carried you to the bed. He laid you on the bed and hovered over you, continuing to kiss you hungrily. When you couldn't breathe anymore, you reluctantly pulled away, smiling contentedly.

— You see, you did it. Although not as described in the instructions. — you said, with a little giggle.

— Little monster, get ready for revenge. — said the guy, looking at you with a menacing grin.

You let out a soft laugh again, trying to sound cheerful. Nott looked at you in surprise.

— Why are you laughing? — he asked blankly.

— It's just... you're so cute when you're tied up. I'll never forget about it, — you said with a grin, stroking his cheek.

He was only vulnerable for a while. But Theo is not the one who will be under someone. So get ready - someone will have to suffer from his sweet revenge for a long time.

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solacescastleglow · 7 months ago

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Personal Favourite Life Hacks

As an ADHD haver with several additional memory issues, I've had to set up my life in such a way that it's basically impossible to not do important things. Here are some of those things. By the way, you have my full permission to use these even if you have no "reason" to need them, I'm not here to gatekeep.

Only books stay on/around the bed overnight, so when I wake up I don't go straight on my phone

Snoozing my wake up alarm thrice to measure half an hour after waking up (which is when I can use screens)

Using that half hour to get my reading in

Charging my devices under my yoga mat so I have to exercise before using them

Eating the same (healthy) thing for breakfast every morning so there's no need to think about it

Putting medication on top of the chai canister so there's no forgetting it

Lazy ginger shot: 1 heaped teaspoon of ginger out of the jar, a big squirt of bottled lemon juice, a little bit of honey or whatever you prefer, a good amount of turmeric, a tiny spoon of salt, and a couple of cracks of black pepper. Measure with your heart, combine into a shot glass, and follow it up with water to get the ginger fibres out of your mouth. Takes like 2 minutes, basically free if you already use these for cooking, and works the same as any other ginger shot except maybe better because it has more fibre and electrolytes.

Linen as a first layer, especially in summer

Using an app like Acloset so I don't have to empty my entire wardrobe every time I want to choose an outfit

Outfit repeating (shhhh it's fine I promise)

Don't put it down, put it away. Don't put it down, put it away. DON'T PUT IT DOWN, PUT IT AWAY. If you're holding something, never put it on a random surface, that's where things go to die.

Tiny rubbish bins wherever you hang out

Cleaning kit full of all the stuff I need to clean so when the mood strikes me, I'm not wasting precious motivation finding supplies

Time blocking

A container at the top of the stairs and at the bottom for things that go on the other floor AND as soon as something's put in it I move it to a super impossible to ignore place (like in the middle of the 5th step)

Putting on a song and seeing how much of an area I can clean before the song ends (for a bigger area put your laundry on and see how much you can get done before it's finished)

Putting my themed moodboards for each part of my life in the place I need to see them

Watching something themed around the topic I'm studying while I wait for my Ritalin to kick in so I'm in the mood to interact with that topic (if you don't take ADHD medication I'd recommend you do this anyway, it makes you so much more productive and it's more enjoyable)

Listening to lectures at 1.75 speed with the transcript printed out in front of me so I can highlight and take notes

Supercook is a free website where you put down everything you have in your kitchen and it'll tell you what to make with what you have - keep it updated and you're fine

Having a list of about 30 easy dinners so I can just pick some for the week ahead, then copy-paste the ingredients and cross reference with my inventory on Supercook to make a grocery list

Doing my groceries online, more specifically adding things to the cart whenever I run out of them instead of trying to remember what I'm missing all at once

ELECTRIC PRESSURE COOKER I love this thing so much it's unreal

Having a scented candle and mood lighting that means it's time to shower

Watching videos in the shower, even if I can't hear them

After washing my hair and using leave in, I put it up in a T shirt so it doesn't get all over my face when I'm washing my body

Shower chair in case I get tired, bored, dizzy, or need to put my leg up to wash it

I don't like flipping between pages when journalling so having only a year in pixels page to fill out (+ my time blocking notebook but that's another thing)

Electric toothbrush with a timer, water flosser, my whole toothbrushing thing is as streamlined as possible because I hate doing it

Somatic dance before bed to tire me out and destress from the day at the same time - I've noticed it takes me way less time to get to sleep when I do this

#woah this got long #self improvement #that girl #it girl #level up #becoming her #glow up #wonyoungism #actually adhd #adhd hacks #life hacks #life tips #adulting #advice #op

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tinyshyteacup · 18 days ago

Text

Hospital vs. SAMCRO

I've been feeling off lately so wrote a self indulgent comfort fic.

Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @ravennaortiz @privatetruths @secretlysamcro @staley83 @jozzieblood @tuesdayaddamss @mrstelford @tssweets @mamawiggers1980 @youngadult9016 @samcrosfaith @staley83 @bethexo07 @anonymouse1807 @raven1234321 @vaugarkel @callmesev @vagharsnextsnack @lunajay33 @punkrockcakepops @sweetestrose569 @xoxo-sarah @gidgetto

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TW: medical equipment, hospital setting, descriptions of pain, Tig being Tig, some characters might be slightly ooc.

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A/N: not edited properly

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in your hospital room when you first woke up. Your head felt foggy, and you couldn't quite remember how you'd ended up here. The stark white walls and antiseptic smell made everything feel surreal. You were just starting to drift back to sleep when the sound of heavy boots echoed down the hallway, followed by what could only be described as controlled chaos.

"Jesus Christ, Hap, you can't just stare at people like that," came Jax's voice from the corridor.

"I'm not staring. I'm observing," Happy's monotone response drifted through the door.

You couldn't help but smile despite the dull ache in your head.

They'd come.

Of course they'd come.

The door burst open, and suddenly your quiet hospital room was filled with leather, denim, and the unmistakable presence of SAMCRO.

Jax entered first, his blonde hair slightly disheveled, blue eyes immediately scanning you for signs of serious injury. Behind him came the rest of the crew, each one looking distinctly out of place in the sterile medical environment.

"Hey there, lass," Chibs was at your bedside in seconds, his accent thick with concern. His scarred face softened as he took in your appearance, and you could see the relief washing over him. "How ye feelin', love?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," you managed, your voice hoarse. "But better now that you're all here."

Chibs reached out to gently stroke your hair, his touch impossibly tender for such rough hands. "Scared the hell out of us, ye did. When we got the call..." He trailed off, jaw tightening. "I was already on my bike before Clay finished tellin' me what happened."

A sharp wave of pain shot through your abdomen, making you wince and clutch at your stomach. The medication they'd given you earlier wasn't touching the severity of it.

"Easy, lass," Chibs murmured, his hand immediately finding yours. "The pain still bad?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice as another wave hit.

"Juice," Jax called over, "come here. She needs distraction."

Juice scrambled over, his eyes wide with concern. "Oh man, okay, distraction. I can do that. Um, did you know that the human brain processes visual information 60,000 times faster than text? That's why, like, when you're in pain, sometimes looking at something can help more than just thinking about other stuff, you know? Like, there's this whole thing about how visual cortex stimulation can actually interfere with pain signals, and I read this study once where they had people look at these really complex patterns and it literally reduced their pain responses by like thirty percent, which is actually pretty amazing when you think about it because—"

"Juice," Opie interrupted gently, "breathe, man."

"Right, sorry, I'm rambling. I do that when I'm nervous. But hey, did I tell you about the time I accidentally hacked into the hospital's system trying to get better WiFi? Because that's actually a really funny story, well, funny now, terrifying at the time because I thought I was going to get arrested, but basically what happened was—"

Another sharp pain made you grip Chibs's hand tighter, and Juice immediately launched into an even more elaborate story about his various technological mishaps, his words tumbling over each other in his effort to keep your mind occupied.

While Chibs fussed over you and Jax pulled up chairs for everyone, Happy had positioned himself by the door like a leather-clad sentinel. His arms were crossed, and he was staring intensely at every hospital staff member who dared to walk by your room.

A young nurse with a medication cart froze in the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in Happy's imposing figure and the tattoos ceiling around his muscles like snakes.

"Um, I need to check on the patient," she squeaked.

Happy said nothing, just nodded and continued staring. The poor girl looked like she might faint.

"Hap," you called weakly, "your terrorizing the nurse."

"I'm not terrorizing anyone," he replied in his flat tone, though you caught the slight twitch of his lips. "I'm observing. "

"You're being creepy, man" Juice chimed in, then immediately looked like he regretted speaking when Happy's gaze turned to him.

The nurse finally gathered enough courage to scurry past Happy, who tracked her movement like a predator watching prey. She fumbled with her equipment, hands shaking as she tried to take your vitals.

"Bet you get to see all sorts of veins?" Happy asked her conversationally.

The nurse's face went pale. "I... what?"

"Lots of veins," Happy muttered. "Very accessible."

"HAPPY," everyone shouted in unison.

"What? I was making conversation."

The nurse finished her tasks in record time and practically sprinted from the room. You couldn't help but laugh despite the pain, which made your ribs ache but felt good anyway.

"Nice work, Hap," Tig called out. "You've got a real gift for making people uncomfortable."

"It's a talent," Happy replied seriously.

"More like a superpower," Jax added with a grin. "We should put it on your resume. 'Happy Lowman: Professional Intimidator.'"

"'Will stare at your enemies until they wet themselves,'" Opie added in a deadpan voice, which made everyone chuckle.

Happy actually looked pleased.

While Happy continued his intimidation campaign in the doorway, Tig had become fascinated with the various medical equipment in your room. He was currently examining the blood pressure cuff with the intensity of a scientist studying a new species.

"You know, this would make excellent restraints," he mused, wrapping the cuff around his own wrist and pumping it up.

"Tig, no," Jax said without looking up from where he was arranging the flowers they'd brought.

"I'm just saying, the medical field has really advanced in the bondage department," Tig continued, now trying to figure out how to deflate the cuff. "This is way more sophisticated than handcuffs."

"Tig, seriously, stop playing with—"

"OH GOD, IT'S STUCK!" Tig's voice shot up an octave as he frantically pulled at the cuff, which had apparently tightened around his wrist. "IT'S CUTTING OFF MY CIRCULATION!"

Chibs sighed and moved to help him, pressing the release valve while muttering something that probably wasn't appropriate for mixed company. "Ye daft bastard, it's got a release valve."

"You're an idiot," Opie said fondly, shaking his head.

"A sexy idiot," Tig corrected, rubbing his wrist. "Who almost lost a hand in the name of science."

"In the name of stupidity," Clay corrected from his corner.

"Hey now, there's a fine line between stupidity and curiosity," Tig protested.

"Yeah, and you crossed it about five miles back," Jax said with a smirk.

Tig immediately moved on to investigating the adjustable bed controls. "Ooh, what does this do?"

Before anyone could stop him, he'd pressed a button, and your bed began to fold in half.

"TIG!" you yelped as you were suddenly jackknifed in the middle.

"Sorry, sorry!" He frantically pushed buttons, making the bed go up and down like a carnival ride. "How do I fix this?"

"Just... stop... pushing... buttons!" you managed between bounces.

Juice rushed over to help, but in his haste, he tripped over the power cord and unplugged half the equipment in the room. Alarms started beeping, and the lights on your monitors went dark.

"Shit, shit, shit," Juice scrambled to plug everything back in while Tig continued his battle with the bed controls.

"Are you trying to kill her?" Clay asked, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that made everyone freeze.

"It was an accident!" Tig protested. "I was just trying to make her more comfortable!"

"By folding her in half?" Opie raised an eyebrow.

"The bed is very versatile!"

The chaos was interrupted by the sharp click of heels on linoleum. Gemma Teller-Morrow swept into the room like a force of nature, her dark hair perfectly styled, designer purse clutched in her manicured hands.

"What the hell is going on in here?" she demanded, taking in the scene, Tig still wrestling with the bed controls, Juice on the floor trying to untangle power cords, Happy scaring another nurse in the doorway, and you looking like you'd just survived a tornado.

"We're visiting," Jax said innocently.

"Visiting?" Gemma's voice could have cut glass. "It sounds like you're demolishing the place."

"We're being supportive," Tig added helpfully.

"You're being shitheads," Gemma corrected sharply. "All of you."

"Ma—" Jax started.

"Don't 'Ma' me, Jackson. Your supposed to be making her feel better, not giving her a migraine."

Clay snorted. "Tell us how you really feel, Gem."

"I feel like I'm surrounded by a bunch of grown men who have the emotional intelligence of toddlers," she shot back. "Which, let's be honest, isn't far from the truth."

She surveyed the room with the eye of a general assessing a battlefield, then immediately went into full mother mode. "Everyone out."

"Ma—" Jax started.

"OUT." Gemma's tone brooked no argument. "You're stressing her out, and she needs rest, not whatever circus act you idiots are putting on."

"But we just got here," Juice protested weakly.

"And you've already broken half the equipment in the room," Gemma pointed out. "Go get coffee. Come back in an hour when you've all remembered how to behave like civilized human beings instead of a pack of wild animals."

"We're not that bad," Tig said with a pout.

"Trager, you tried to turn medical equipment into sex toys."

"I was being innovative!"

"You were being a shithead. Now go."

The men began to file out, but Chibs hesitated by your bedside. "I don't want to leave ye, lass."

Gemma's expression softened slightly. "Twenty minutes, Filip. Then you go get something to eat."

Chibs nodded gratefully and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll be right back, lass."

Once the room had cleared except for Gemma, the older woman immediately began straightening up, fluffing your pillows and adjusting your blankets with the efficiency of someone who'd been taking care of people her entire life.

"Men," she said with fond exasperation. "They mean well, but they have the finesse of a bull in a china shop."

"They were just worried," you said softly, wincing as another wave of pain hit.

"Oh, honey, we were all worried." Gemma's tough exterior cracked slightly. "When Chibs got that call, I thought he was going to lose his mind. I've never seen him move so fast. He was already halfway to his bike before anyone could stop him."

She settled into the chair beside your bed, her expression serious. "What happened, sweetheart? And don't give me any of that 'I'm fine' bullshit. I can see right through that."

You found yourself telling Gemma everything - how you'd been feeling overwhelmed lately, how you'd been trying to handle things on your own, how you'd apparently pushed yourself too hard. She listened without judgment, occasionally reaching out to squeeze your hand.

"You don't have to carry everything alone," she said finally. "That's what family is for. And like it or not, you're family now."

"I didn't want to be a burden—"

"Stop." Gemma's voice was firm but kind. "You're not a burden. You're one of us. And we take care of our own."

The door opened quietly, and Chibs peeked in. "How are ye feelin', lass?" Chibs approached your bed as if you were made of spun glass.

"Tired," you admitted. "But better. The pain's starting to ease up a little."

He settled carefully on the edge of the bed, his hand finding yours. "I was so scared," he said quietly. "When I saw ye lying here..."

"I'm okay," you assured him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Ye better not," he said, his accent thick with emotion. "I can't lose ye, lass. I just can't."

Your moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of arguing in the hallway. Through the small window in the door, you could see Tig apparently having a animated discussion with a doctor while the rest of the crew watched.

"What is he doing now?" Gemma sighed.

"I think he's trying to get medical advice," Chibs said, squinting through the glass. "For his... proclivities."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Gemma muttered, standing up. "I'll be right back."

She marched out of the room, and you could hear her voice cutting through the discussion. "Tiggy, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I was just asking about the therapeutic benefits of—"

"NO. Whatever you were asking, the answer is no."

"But Gemma—"

"No buts. Literally. Leave the poor doctor alone."

About an hour later, there was a soft knock on the door. Bobby poked his head in, looking around cautiously.

"Coast clear?" he asked in a stage whisper.

"Come in, Bobby," you said with a smile. "Gemma's gone to get coffee."

Bobby slipped inside, and you noticed he was carrying a small paper bag that he was trying to hide behind his back.

"How you feeling, sweetheart?" he asked, settling into the chair beside your bed.

"Better. The pain medication is finally starting to work."

"Good, good." He glanced toward the door, then leaned in conspiratorially. "I brought you something. The good stuff."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Bobby, I don't think I should—"

"Not that kind of good stuff," he chuckled, pulling the bag from behind his back.

"The really good stuff." He said with a grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He opened the bag to reveal homemade cookies, the smell of chocolate chip and something else wonderful wafting out.

"You baked for me ?" you asked, surprised.

"Shhh," he said, looking around dramatically. "I figured you could use some real comfort food, not whatever cardboard they're serving you in this place."

"Bobby, these smell amazing."

"Secret ingredient," he said with a wink. "Biker Loveeeee. Or maybe the extra vanilla. Don't tell Gemma I'm feeding you cookies before dinner."

You took a bite, and it was like a warm hug in food form. "These are incredible."

"Been perfecting the recipe for years," he said proudly. "Started baking when I was trying to quit drinking. Keeps the hands busy, you know?"

"Well, these are definitely the good stuff."

"Damn right they are. And there's more where that came from. You just focus on getting better, and I'll keep you supplied with proper baked goods."

The door opened, and Chibs walked in, immediately suspicious. "What's that smell?"

"Nothing," Bobby said quickly, shoving the bag behind his back again.

"Bobby," Chibs said in a warning tone.

"It's cookies," you said, not wanting to get Bobby in trouble. "He brought me cookies."

"Can I have one, Love?" Chibs said with a wolfish grin reaching for the bag

"Get your own," Bobby said, as you clutched the bag in mock defense. "These are for the patient."

As the day wore on, the crew settled into a more manageable routine. They took turns sitting with you, each bringing their own particular brand of comfort and chaos.

Juice had become your unofficial pain management specialist, launching into increasingly elaborate stories whenever he saw you wince. "So there was this one time I was trying to upgrade the security system at the clubhouse, right? And I may have accidentally connected it to the neighbor's garage door opener, which sounds innocent enough, but you have to understand that Mrs. Henderson has this really specific schedule for when she puts her car away, and suddenly every time someone walked past the motion sensor, her garage door would start opening and closing like it was having a seizure, and she thought her house was haunted..."

His rambling stories were oddly comforting, the steady stream of words giving your mind something to focus on besides the dull ache in your stomach.

Even Clay's usual gruff demeanor replaced by something almost paternal as he squeezed your shoulder and promised that everything would be handled while you recovered.

"These sumbags giving you any lip?" he asked, gesturing toward the rest of the crew with a smirk.

"No more then usual," you replied with a weak smile.

"Good. If they get out of line, you let me know. I'll sort them out."

But it was Chibs who never left your side for long. He'd pulled his chair as close to your bed as possible, his hand almost constantly touching yours, as if he needed the physical contact to reassure himself that you were really okay.

"Ye scared ten years off my life today," he murmured during one of your quiet moments together.

"I'm sorry," you whispered back.

"Don't be sorry, lass. Just... promise me ye'll tell me when things get too much. I can't protect ye from everything, but I can damn well try."

"I promise."

The afternoon brought more visitors, each member of the crew cycling through with their own brand of support. Tig had convinced a nurse to let him wheel you around the ward "for exercise," which had resulted in him racing down the hallway until Gemma caught him and threatened to tie him to a chair.

"I was being therapeutic!" he protested.

"You nearly ran over an elderly man with a walker." Gemma corrected.

"He was moving really slow!"

"He was ninety-three years old, you moron!"

Happy had taken up permanent residence outside your door, his intimidation factor having reached legendary status among the hospital staff. A new nurse had tried to enter your room earlier, taken one look at Happy's tattooed scowl, and immediately turned around and walked the other way.

"I think you're scaring away the medical professionals," you told him.

"Good," he replied. "They bother you too much."

"They're just doing their job."

"So am I."

"Your job is to terrify healthcare workers?"

"Today it is."

As evening approached and visiting hours were ending, the crew began to say their goodbyes. Each man stopped by your bed, offering their own version of comfort and promising to check on you tomorrow.

Happy, surprisingly, was the most touching. He stood awkwardly by your bed for a moment before leaning down and very gently kissing your cheek "Feel better," he said in his monotone voice. "I'll keep scaring the nurses for you."

"Thank you, Hap." you said, meaning it.

Tig bounded over with his usual energy, but his hug was surprisingly gentle. "Next time you need to use medical equipment, call me first. I'm practically an expert now."

"I'll keep that in mind," you laughed.

"And if you need any more... therapeutic consultations, you know where to find me," he added with a wink.

"Tig," Jax warned.

"What? I'm being supportive!"

"You're being inappropriate."

"I'm being multifaceted."

Juice was the hardest to get rid of, still rambling as he gathered his things. "So I was thinking maybe tomorrow I could bring my laptop and show you this documentary about pain management through audio frequencies, because there's actually some really interesting research about how certain sound waves can interfere with pain signals, and I know you were hurting earlier so I thought maybe it could help, plus I have this really good noise-canceling headphones that might make it more effective, and—"

"Juice," Opie said gently, "she needs to rest."

"Right, sorry, rest is important for healing, I read that somewhere, or maybe I heard it on a podcast, but either way, sleep is when your body does most of its repair work, so I should probably go and let you sleep, but I'll be back tomorrow with the documentary and maybe some of those crackers you like from the vending machine, the ones with the cheese, not the peanut butter ones because those are disgusting—"

"JUICE," everyone said in unison.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Feel better!" He finally left, still talking to himself as he walked down the hall.

Even Gemma seemed reluctant to leave, fussing over your blankets one more time. "You call if you need anything," she said firmly. "Anything at all."

"I will."

"I mean it. Day or night. Sweetheart."

"I know. Thank you Gem."

Finally, it was just you and Chibs. The room felt enormous with just the two of you, and suddenly all the emotions of the day caught up with you.

"I really scared you, didn't I?" you asked quietly.

"Terrified me," he admitted. "When I got that call, I thought... I thought I might lose ye before I ever got to tell ye how much ye mean to me."

"Chibs—"

"No, let me say this." He took your hand in both of his, his calloused fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "I love ye, lass. More than I've ever loved anyone. And I know I'm not much to look at, and I know the life I lead isn't safe or easy, but—"

"I love you too," you interrupted softly.

His eyes widened. "Ye do?"

"Of course I do. How could I not?"

The smile that spread across his scarred face was blinding. "Ye have no idea how long I've wanted to hear ye say that."

"I'm sorry it took me ending up in the hospital to say it."

"Don't care how I got to hear it, lass. Just matters that I did."

He leaned down and kissed you softly, and you tasted relief and love and the promise of tomorrow on his lips.

"Get some rest," he murmured against your forehead. "I'll be here first thing in the morning."

"You don't have to—"

"Try and stop me," he said with a grin. "Besides, someone needs to make sure Tig doesn't try to reprogram your bed again."

"And someone needs to make sure Bobby doesn't sneak me too many cookies."

"Aye, that too. Though I have to admit, they were pretty good."

"Don't tell him I said this, but they were amazing."

"Your secret's safe with me, lass."

As he gathered his things to leave, he paused at the door. "Sweet dreams, lass. I'll be thinking of ye."

"Chibs?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. All of you. For caring so much."

"Always, lass. Always."

And as the door closed behind him, you settled back into your pillows with a smile, Bobby's cookie wrapper crumpled in your hand. Tomorrow would bring more chaos, more laughter, more of the beautiful madness that came with being part of the SAMCRO family. But tonight, you were surrounded by the warmth of knowing you were loved, protected, and cherished by the most unlikely family you could have ever imagined.

The heart monitor beeped steadily beside you, and for the first time all day, it sounded like a lullaby.

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