#bad bitches love morgan

[januaryembrs]

BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader

request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.

description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined

word count: 1.1k

main masterlist

authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))

Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 

It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 

You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 

“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 

“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”

“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 

“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.

“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 

“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 

You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 

“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.

“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 

Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 

The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.

He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 

“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”

“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 

Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 

“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 

“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”

A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 

-

[brujahinaskirt]

arthur's college girl drunksona is so fucking funny. A++++ to rockstar. imagine you're new to the gang and here is big bad gang enforcer arthur morgan, dutch's number one tank and intimidator in chief, bone breaker and known kill on sight terror in multiple states. this guy breathes gunsmoke, threatens to gut people in their sleep like it's nothing, and keeps a bunch of murdering criminals in line. and whenever the subject of drinking comes up, everybody in camp talks in whispers, concern, and disapproval about how this guy gets when he's had too many. thank god he's given that up. because he is unmanageable. a disaster. everyone KNOWS how he gets. and you DON'T want to see it, that's a fact

and then there's some trouble in the valentine saloon with lenny, dutch says they ought to be back by now, "arthur's probably in a state." so they send you in to collect. and you know it must be bad. you've heard the stories about morgan and liquor. you figure it's bloodshed and pandemonium in there, no question. you have no idea how you're going to take this mean son of a bitch down quietly before he torches the place. he's probably killed at least three people by now and god knows if lenny's even still alive

so you walk into the saloon ready to fight for your life and there's big bad arthur morgan. he drunk screams he loves you. he's dancing the fucking can-can

[emmcfrxst]

the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when i’m alone with you); arthur morgan x reader

word count: 2K

warnings: smut!, afab!reader, religious themes (kinda. a bitch loves blasphemy<3), oral (f!receiving), body worship (arthur worships the ground you walk on), multiple orgasms (again, f!receiving), expressively asking for consent because that’s sexy! also yes the title is a hozier reference! feedback is appreciated as always <333

!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!!

The wind blows softly over the half-closed lapels of the tent you and Arthur had set up somewhere around Dewberry Creek, your old, rusted lantern creaking as it sways with the night breeze. The flickering light does not seem to bother your companion, however, as he flattens his tongue over the seam of your cunt, moaning greedily into you. Arthur’s eyes flutter closed in ecstasy as your fingers tangle in his hair, giving the honey brown strands a sharp tug when he delivers a particularly hard suck to your pulsing clit. Your legs close around his head instinctively, trapping him between your thighs, tense muscles flexing against the sides of his face. A soft, breathy apology leaves your swollen lips, the pressure disappearing soon after as your lover pins your body down with calloused hands, brushing off your apology with a chuckle against your skin. You do not have anything to apologize for; Arthur Morgan, a man who has escaped death more than once, would gladly let himself be smothered by your cunt if it came to it. What a way to go that would be, he thinks. The closest to heaven’s gates he will ever get. And although Arthur isn’t a man of religion, he is more than willing to spend every day and every night praying at the altar that is your body, worshipping every inch of you with his eyes, his lips, his hands. Every kiss, every mark you leave on his skin is a holy reminder of the love shared between the two of you; of the passionate nights where Arthur can forget all about his sins and fully allow himself to be bathed in the sacred light of your affections.

“There you go, beautiful. Come back to me.” he coos at you, pushing hair out of your teary eyes, a tender grin on his face. His thumb gently runs under your eyes, wiping away the moisture there as you come back to your senses, focusing on his form above you. The sight of him is like a punch to the gut; blue irises swallowed up by fully dilated pupils, lips swollen and shining with the evidence of your previous orgasms, his beard is soaked through and his breathing ragged. You let your eyes wander down to where his bulge is straining against his union suit, biting your lip. The effect is immediate— his cock twitches under your sultry gaze, a soft groan leaving your lover’s throat.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” Arthur warns lowly, calloused hands running over the bare skin of your thigh. You giggle, lifting yourself up to brush your lips against his, your hand running down his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.

“Like what?” You ask innocently, the teasing curve of your smile betraying your oblivious act. Arthur glares at you playfully, hand coming down to squeeze your inner thigh.

“Like ye wanna do real bad things t’me.” He mutters, voice raspier than usual, dripping with arousal. Suppressing a grin, you sit up, letting your hands slide all the way down to cup him through his clothes, thumb gently pressing against the wet spot on his underwear. A sick sort of satisfaction fills you at Arthur’s reaction —pretty blue eyes fluttering closed, his lips part in a strangled moan, hips jutting forward, seeking more pressure. You allow him a few moments to bask in your touch, swirling your thumb around his tip through the fabric and cupping his balls, before taking your hands off of him, leaving him breathing heavily.

“Maybe I do wanna do real bad things to you, Mr Morgan.” you whisper against his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses over his pulse point. A satisfied little giggle leaves you when you hear him cursing under his breath, hips bucking upwards of their own volition. Your victory is short lived, however, as your lover pinches your clit in retaliation, making you cry out. Satisfied, a smug grin on his face, he finally bares himself to you, making your breath hitch. It isn’t the first time you see Arthur in all of his glory —far from it, really, but the sight of how strong, how capable he is always manages to steal the breath right from your lungs. Freckles adorn the robust planes of his shoulders, ascending all the way across the broadness of a back toned from years of hard work; a petite waist and powerful hips curve out into muscled thighs and chiseled calves— Arthur Morgan is truly a sight to behold. He flushes under your heated stare but says nothing —how wise of him, you think, for he knows by now that you would never allow him to look down on himself, not even under the pretense of a joke. You deserve better than the way you treat yourself, you’d told him a million times. And you’ll spend the rest of your life proving it— that he’s worth it, be it through words, comfort, actions or through the passionate entangling of your bodies and souls. Because sex is more than just that to the two of you; it is a way of communicating the love and the needs you have for one another— Arthur, so painstakingly touch starved before you came along, now revels in the physical familiarity you two share. From fleeting touches to lingering kisses, he simply cannot seem to get enough of you; he does not believe the longing in his heart could ever be quelled completely.

Trembling gasps leave the two of you as Arthur slides his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. Jolts of pleasure thrum through your body every time his tip bumps against your swollen clit, your soft cries of pleasure causing Arthur’s cock to twitch.

“Sweetheart, if you keep makin’ all them pretty noises it’s gonna be over b’fore it even starts.” His accent is thick and his voice is shaky, excited little tremors running through his body at your state of undoing —all because of him. He’s made a real mess out of the two of you; drenched, sweaty and needy — thick strips of your wetness clinging to Arthur’s lower abdomen, precum pearling over the tip of his cock and gliding down his length; yes, your lover is more than willing to drown himself in your shared desire, to indulge in the carnality of your bound. Wrapping a hand around himself, he groans behind clenched teeth, sensitive to the touch, fingers quickly getting wet from how thoroughly turned on he is. He, however, remains unashamed, having accepted long ago that he will never be in control when it comes to you —he has never felt so connected with another human being, be it physically, psychologically, mentally or emotionally and he no longer bothers trying to hide the way you make him feel.

Understood. Respected. Appreciated. Loved. Alive. He’d never felt so many emotions prior to meeting you. Had never felt so alive; had never wanted to keep going as much as he has since you walked into his life. You make it worth it.

Letting his lips brush along your brow line, Arthur curls the fingers of his free hand around one of your thighs, spreading you open for him.

“Ye still good? D’ye want me to stop?” He asks, blue eyes roaming over your bare form with tenderness, trying to assess the situation. Even with you soft, pliant and soaked underneath him, Arthur Morgan would never dare to make assumptions about your desires, would never be so single-minded as to claim you without expressed consent from your part. He needs to know you want this as much as he does, wants this to be good for you— he thrives on your pleasure and your pleasure alone; can only feel good if you are. It is one of the many reasons why you love him so deeply, but in your lusting daze, you find yourself too strung up to fully appreciate it.

“Arthur Morgan, if you stop now m’gonna kick your sorry ass—oh!” Your voice breaks off into a pitiful little whimper when his cock teases your entrance, a low, rumbling laugh leaving him.

“As you wish, m’lady.” He allows himself to be playful for a few moments longer, basking in the frustrated little furrow of your brows and your pouting lips before pushing inside in one smooth glide, aided by your shared arousal. Arthur curses under his breath as your cunt flutters around him, trying to adjust to his girth. The blunt ends of your nails leave crescent marks onto the broadness of his shoulders and Arthur clenches his jaw, doing his best to stay still and allow you a moment of reprieve from the sensations that overtake your body. Busying himself with leaving marks onto your skin, he soothes the spots where his teeth have dug into, lips moving feom your neck to your chest to take a nipple into his mouth. The loud, broken mewl you let out at the action makes him shiver, goosebumps spreading all over his skin at the sound, but he continues to stay still, waiting for you to give him the permission to go on. It’s only when your legs wrap around his waist that he does finally let himself move, pulling himself almost all the way out before sliding back in with a quick snap of his hips. Another cry leaves your lips at the action, although this time sounding strangled, your cunt clenching around your lover’s cock at the delicious friction he provides you with. Your foot presses into the meat of his ass, encouraging him to go faster, deeper— a silent demand he is quick to indulge in. A series of loud, wet noises begin resounding around the two of you, only motivating Arthur on to thrust harder; your back arching up into him when he starts battering that one spot inside of you, rough fingers coming down to rub circles onto your clit. The moans pour freely from your mouth and into his as he kisses you, tongues tangling together in a messy, sloppy fight for dominance. You’re vaguely aware of the spit trickling down your chin but are far too gone to care; the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with every powerful snap of Arthur’s hips into yours. Already sensitive from your previous orgasms, you rake your nails down his back, trying to warn your lover of your impending climax. Alas, gargling moans are the only thing you can manage before you finally snap; vision going white, body going rigid under his, you repeat his name like a prayer as waves after waves of pleasure wash over you. Arthur isn’t far behind you, spurred on by your own release, a long, incredibly deep moan rumbling through his chest before he pulls out of you, sticky cum splattering across your stomach. Coming down from your high, you tuck a few strands of hair behind Arthur’s ears, fingers lingering on his face lovingly. He leans into your touch immediately, turning his head to press a gentle kiss into your palm, his body trembling with the aftermath of his own orgasm.

“Was…” He clears his throat, rolling off of you and pulling you along to rest on his chest. “Was that good f’r ya?” The gravelly tone of his voice cannot conceal the genuineness of his question, his fingers running down the length of your spine. It makes you smile— he makes you smile, your sweet cowboy. Shifting to look at him, you kiss him right over his heart, fondness warming your features.

“It was. It always is, with you. I love you.” And despite it not being the first time you utter those words— far from it, really— emotion still takes over Arthur’s heart and features, eyes shining with a sheen of tears.

Love. You love him.

No, Arthur Morgan may not be a religious man, and he remains unconvinced of God’s existence, but he does know one thing; you are his little piece of heaven on Earth.

[luveline]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k

tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in. 

You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.

You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person. 

The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley

Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible ! 

she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew 

hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley

"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful." 

Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend. 

"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?" 

You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with." 

The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again. 

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks. 

You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?" 

Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step. 

It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–" 

"Garcia," Hotch interrupts. 

"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days." 

"Address?" Hotch asks. 

"Already sent to your phones." 

"Thank you, Pen," you say. 

"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says. 

Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else. 

You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional. 

You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job. 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him. 

"Hm?" 

"Is everything okay?" 

"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles. 

Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week. 

Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity. 

The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends. 

Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.

"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest." 

You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.

You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat. 

You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again. 

You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands. 

You stare at yourself. 

You look tired. 

Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth. 

Or, it should be. 

A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes. 

A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call. 

"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."

Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep. 

"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?" 

"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking." 

"Do you want to come in?" you ask. 

"Please." 

Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob. 

"It's very clean in here," he says. 

You startle. "What?" 

"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks. 

"No, is it bad?" 

"It's like a paper hurricane."

You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin. 

"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of." 

Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about. 

"Did Derek tell you?" you ask. 

"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.

You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre. 

"Nothing." 

"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing." 

You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.

He leans forward. "What?" 

"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch." 

"I don't feel sorry for you." 

You wince, "No, of course not." 

"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic. 

"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.

His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired." 

"Saying I looked unagreeable." 

"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?" 

Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–" 

Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again. 

"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter." 

"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says. 

He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely. 

"It didn't," you lie. 

Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either. 

"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says. 

You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening. 

"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit." 

"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood. 

"Neither," Hotch says.

You gawp, and then falter. "Why…" 

Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair." 

"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.

His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter. 

"That's not the job," he says.

"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think." 

"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful." 

"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out. 

"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."

You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.

Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better. 

"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else." 

"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely." 

Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands. 

"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."  

Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks. 

"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head. 

"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now." 

You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile. 

You nod again. 

He relaxes. 

"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.

"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it." 

He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight." 

"No more caffeine," you agree. 

He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek. 

—

"Hi, beautiful," Derek says. 

"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says. 

You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good. 

"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly. 

Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey." 

"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself." 

Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid." 

"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot. 

"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees. 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."

"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing. 

"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you. 

You jump half out of your skin. 

"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.

Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?" 

A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears. 

Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is." 

He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling. 

"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love." 

"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer. 

"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."

"She does not," Derek says severely. 

You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.

"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.

"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her. 

You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental. 

"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?" 

You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go. 

 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3

[myluvrrhea]

The Girl Is Mine: Chapter 1 // Glued

Pairings - Dominik Mysterio/Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word count - 0.6k ( Sorry this is so short 😭 )

Warnings - kissing, Rhea being a bitch in the end tbh, Liv being.. odd , R!Crying :((

The ref put my arm up as I had luckily beaten Becky in our last man standing match. I looked over at her, holding my hand out to her. She took my hand with a smile. We had no bad blood and I knew that. We just had to make sure the fans knew too.

Once we arrived backstage, I got checked up. Which I was luckily cleared. 

I immediately walked to my dressing room after. I sat down in my vanity chair, my hands rubbing my face trying to clear the stress and tiredness. 

I jolted when I heard the door open and closed with a slam.

Liv Morgan

As soon as she entered the room, she didn’t spare a glance at me before sitting on the couch of my dressing room. Tears quickly falling onto her pale cheeks.

“Liv.” 

No answer. Just small sobs escaped her mouth.

“Liv what’s wrong tell me.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at her crying form.

She moved closer to me, glancing at my lips before quickly at my eyes.

She leaned in, our lips touching. 

As I pulled away, I noticed her eyes softed. Yet had worry written on her face.

“Liv I-“

I was cut off.

“I shouldn’t have done this.” She shook her head as she spoke.

“Wait you cant just-“  I tried sitting up to catch up to her. 

Before I could argue more, Liv was already out the door. Slamming it shut.

What was she so paranoid about? Didn’t she like me. I mean, we didn’t get along at first, but I thought things might’ve changed since then.

I looked down as tears filled my eyes. Was I really not enough?

I heard a knock on the door, hearing the knob open seconds later.I looked up to see who it was.

Rhea?

What was she doing here though? We hadn’t spoken since I had gotten here.

“ hey Damian Sent me here.. whats got you worked up like this?” She asked

She was concerned. Id never seen her like this, she usually just her cold demeanor towards me.

You couldn’t speak, let alone look her in the eyes. You felt her eyes shift from your eyes, to your arms, eventually taking in your whole form.

“Why do you care?” I asked her.

Rhea just rolled her eyes as she walked out the room. A sigh leaving her stained black lips. 

“I just want someone to love me genuinely. Is that too much to ask?” I thought to myself.

Time skip—

As I walked through the hallway, ready to take my leave, and meet Damian of course. I thought about what had happened today. First Liv, then Rhea? I felt like I could trust Rhea all of a sudden. Like we had this connection. And im sure she felt it too. The way she looked at me in my dressing room was a prime example. And as for Liv—I felt nervous. I knew things would be awkward after what had happened in my dressing room. 

I was interrupted from my thoughts at the sound of  yelling. I put my head to the door it was coming from.

“She doesn’t belong here and you know that. Hell for all I know she may not even be trustworthy— I mean look at her shes like a barbie doll shell never fit in with us.” I head a deep Australian accent. 

Rhea.

I stepped back as I heard what she said. Did she really think that of me?

Thinking about what Rhea had said, tears filled my eyes.

I sped walked to the the exit door, soon hearing a voice from behind me call my name.

[funtheysaid]

IWTV 2x01 Initial Thoughts (Stream Of Consciousness)

- That title card for Delainey felt very stage play to me (ahhh I adore the theatrical elements for this season)

- Ooh I love the idea that vamps can take on the emotions of whosever blood they’re drinking - it’s like the vampire equivalent of when werewolves can smell ppl’s emotions and fears through chemosignals (a la Teen Wolf iykyk)

- “Disregard” is the funniest shit ever 😂 Oldmaniel they could never make me hate you

- There’s a Real Rashid OMFG ??? Lol imagine he’s not actually Rashid and they pull one over on us again I’d fucking shit myself

- “Your love was in a box” OH MY GOD EAT HIM UP DANNY BOY

- OMG OMG LOUSTAT ITS HAPPENIGN ITS HAPPENING EVERYONE SHUT UP

- I MISS YOU TOO LESTAT

- “Quite fucked” 😏😏😏

- “mon amour” “mon cher” “love” IM GOING TO EXSANGUINATE MYSELF ISTG

- The singular finger on Louis’ chin 🥲 so delicate so soft so bad for my mental health

- I like Emilia

- “They are not used to seeing man with good looks” OKAY I know they’re just racists BUT she also wasn’t lying bc beautiful Louis is canon god bless you Jacob Anderson

- Lol Morgan a little fruity

- OOH memory is a monster! They be redoing scenes as Louis “fixes” his memories !!!! That’s gonna show up again for sure :))))

- “Stupid Halloween costume” Daniel Molloy the brat that you are (is okay, Armand likes brats) *cough cough*

- I’ve never seen someone *elegantly* close an iPad before. Armand, you have bewitched me.

- The fucking sexual tension between DM is stifling 🥵😶‍🌫️ Um if this is us “not getting Devil’s Minion” then I think imma be okay

- Claudia pushing the little racist boy 🤪🥹 we can’t help but to stan

- WTF AMC you can’t just jumpscare me with a Grace photograph :’)))

- “UP YOUR BUM” EXCUSE ME MORGAN I KNEW YOU WERE FRUITY BUT SIRRRR?

- so the makeup department really put their whole sfxussies into that decrepit ass abomination

- Louis: Alexa, play Mr. Steal Your Girl by Trey Songz

- Claudia calling Louis Daddy in S1: ☺️🍭👼 Claudia calling Louis Daddy in S2: 😖🤢😟

- I’m dubbing Louis “The Rat Prince”

- “If he can’t take you ballroom dancing and call you pretty” ICONIC.

- “the motherfucker” it’s on sight Bruce or Killer or whatever the fuck your name was 🤕🥊

- “her hand twitched like yours would” why was that line lowkey out of pocket. My mans has Parkinson’s Louis !!!!

- SHE DREAMS 😭 MY FUCKING GOD STOP MY EYES ARE GONNA BE PUFFY WHEN I WAKE UP TOMORROW

- that wasn’t even acting that was some REAL shit. Get Jacob Anderson his Emmy or Oscar or Tony or whatever the fuck I just need him to be awarded for his talent

- Daniel’s soft compassionate side: rare but that much more meaningful when it makes an appearance

- LOUIS you did not just do Emilia dirty like that TF!?! She helped you dude.

- “Human affairs. Their problem.” Not you listening to Lestat now of all times

- “Catfish with teeth” Louis can really read a bitch to filth can’t he?

- AHHH THERE ARE TWO OF THE FUCKERS 👹👹

- Oh shit he’s a kid okay I’m sorry for calling you an abomination earlier. That was mean.

- Woman vampire, you standing precariously close to that fire 👀

- Delainey’s facial expressions are the perfect blend of innocent and slightly unsettling

- OPP INTO THE FIRE SHE GOES rip 🔥

- What the hell is a bacon triptych am I just stupid don’t answer that

- Armand you ain’t beating the iPad kid allegations

- “It’s his drug” He said that with such malice. Is this a “he needed me but he needed drugs more” plot line???

- So Dubai Loumand is chilly frigid tepid frosty glacial

- Free feet? Okay im sorry

- “We can have him saying what happened next in no time” okay wait hold up why you making it sound like YOU don’t know what happened next and you need him to tell you???

- oh danny boy whistling while the couple he’s counseling walks in… is this a comedy or ?

- Daniel: yeah? 🤓 Armand: yeah 🫦

- “the mother of New Orleans” oh he misses home

- LMFAO Daniel interrupting Armand before he can start soliloquizing

- Louis and Claudia in a truck full of art which they belong in bc they too are pieces of art to me

- hard words. soft words. 🥺

- “a shit life beats no life” god damn this monologue feels like Louis is speaking directly to my soul

- “as long as you walk the earth I’ll never taste the fire” If this is foreshadowing I- I- I don’t know what I’ll do but it’s going to involve a baseball bat and a waffle iron and my head

- “it would be enough” pan to Lestat 💀 you can’t be fucking serious right now you just cannot

- okay it’s over and the teaser for the season just started playing and I just have to shout out the score bc damn if those violins don’t get me every god damn time

(Stutter) That’s all, folks! 🐷👋

[aswefindourwayback]

Authors note: hi guys! this is my first fic for spencer, but i’ve been writing fics for another fandom for a bit. i watched all of criminal minds back in 2020 and have recently gotten back into it and wanted to write something for spencer. this fic is a bit short and like my intro into the fandom. i hope yall like it! feedback is always appreciated as well.

wc: 625

warnings: a bit of fingering

it had been a long day. spencer left early in the morning, not without lightly kissing your neck and adding his hand around your waist. his warm breath caressing your neck, his hand roaming your body, slowly making its way lower and lower down your front. he lightly swept his finger against your clothed clit, making you whine and squirm. you moved your hips forward, silently begging spencer for more. he took the hint and slipped his hand under the front of your panties, inching his way towards where you needed him most. you were practically soaking, your thighs were sticky with your slick. matty softly and slowly rubbed your clit with one finger, slightly teasing you.

“please spence, more. i need more.” you whined.

who was he to deny his favorite girl? he then moved his hand further down, inserting a finger into your cunt, slowly pumping in and out. it felt good but you needed more, you needed to feel him. matty then inserted another finger and started pumping his fingers a bit faster. you could feel yourself hurtling towards your orgasm. just a bit more and you were going to be there. you could feel your stomach turning and tightening at once. the string in your stomach was about to snap, you were so close you could taste it. the only sounds were your moans and the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

but you woke up, it was a fucking dream. spencer had actually left early in the morning for work, but only leaving you with a kiss on your head as you were fast asleep.

you were now feeling all types of discomfort, and your panties were soaked through due to your dream. you knew if you tried to relieve yourself, it wouldn’t feel half as good as when spencer does it, so you got up and spent the day waiting for spencer to come home. you spent most of the day absolutely feral due to your lack of a orgasmic high that you’ve been craving. not only that but you were dead tired but you couldn’t sleep. you were too horny and frustrated to take a nap to pass the time. you’re eyes were itching for sleep, you could barley function.

he got home quite late. you were on the sofa watching a film when you heard his keys rustle in the doorway. you heard as he dropped his bag onto the ground, kicking his shoes off and taking his coat off before joining you on the sofa. with a huff, he plopped onto the sofa.

“hi darling, how was your day?” you ask as you run your fingers through his unruly hair, making him let out a groan that makes the heat between your legs grow.

“it was alright, morgan was being a pain in the ass, i’ll tell you that much. i’m glad to finally be home though, i missed you.” he said giving you a quick peck on the lips. (not the lips you wanted though 😗)

“im sorry darling, is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” you asked.

“no, just be with me please.”

“how do you want me?” you asked seductively, moving to straddle him before he pushed your leg back.

“in bed. asleep. get your dark circles out of my face.”

“bitch. i’m fucking horny.”

“okay and? the bags under your eyes are so bad, you look like a raccoon, love.”

“fuck me then i’ll sleep.”

he moves too fast for your brain to register. one minute you’re sitting beside him on the sofa, the next you’re being pinned down by spencer with your back on the floor.

“fine.”

KISS MWAH MWAH AND THEY FUCK

[de4dlyniightshade]

I stumbled upon your blog because of those JJ-Reid posts, and lol, finally, someone said it. I don't know where you stand on this, but I genuinely don't understand people who hype JJ and Derek's relationship with Spencer. I might be wrong, but both of them are the worst to him, in my opinion. Sure, they have their 'good' moments, but the amount of condescending and demeaning commentary they give to Reid is crazy. And no, Spencer isn't my favorite character, but even then, what JJ and Morgan did to Reid always made me uncomfortable. I think the only two who really care and listen to Reid are Blake and Emily. In my personal opinion, Reid x Emily relationship (platonic OFC) is really underrated.

worst to spencer goes jj first ofc and then derek idc.

the thing with the nightmares, telling gideon and forcing him to talk about it just rubbed me the wrong way. i can't remember exactly but there's another point where derek gets really personal about something and is such a dick to spencer for no reason.

i haven't finished the show yet(i got to s11 and then restarted it with my meemaw:3)so idk if penelope ends up being mean to spencer but so far her and emily are the only ones who take accountability for how they treat others, they don't just use their emotions as a fallback for being a bad friend like everyone else, emily was genuinely sorry for not being able to tell spencer and genuinely had a sit down talk with him about it and penelope saved his life, did one thing she never wanted to do, killed a man for him because he's her friend and she loves him.

completely agree that the best friendship in cm is emily and spencer all the fucking way. the way she was desperately looking for him in that one episode with the church cult UGH and the hug? that. ladies and gentleman. is how you love a man. she loves him. jj does not. she loves the idea of him. a real gentleman who can treat a woman right, but oh how dare he come with baggage.

i love blake and spencer's relationship too, the way he kinda immediately attaches himself too her bcs of her motherly nature is really sweet and i like that it's unspoken that he sees her as a motherly figure and she sees him as a sort of son.

hotch i can forgive for being a little mean to spencer because he was never too mean and he never claimed to love him or be his best friend or brother or any of that, although hotch does love him he doesn't broadcast it for brownie point like the others and the times he was mean he was really stressed and took it out on more than just spencer, unlike the others who pick the pushover who won't yap back and bitch at him when they're mad.

don't even get me started on elle. they were endgame.

[aaronhotchnersworld]

aaron hotchner x bau wife reader

hurt

The unsub we’ve have been trying to find is a very smart man. We’ve been here for a week and still have nothing. Everyone’s frustrated, especially aaron. I love aaron, of course i do, im his wife. I just wish he would take a breather sometimes.

The unsub had been luring young women out of bars at night, torturing them for 3 days, then shooting them in the back of the head.

Spencer has just figured out where the unsub had been taking them, 3 abandoned building with a huge field next to it. There were all side by side meaning we had to split up.

Aaron and I had decided that it’s best if we split when getting an unsub, because we both get overprotective and we don’t want anything to affect our performance.

“reid and jareau, take the last building. y/l/n and morgan, take the second building, prentiss and i will take the first building” Hotch directed us. My last name is hotchner now, but we keep is y/l/n at work so it’s not confusing.

I feel nervous, like something bad is going to happen. Aaron noticed, as he came over and gave me a touch on the shoulder and a reassuring smile. I love Aaron so much.

Everyone quickly went to where they were supposed to be. As derek and I approached the building, I heard a noise coming from the field. “Derek I think he’s in the field” i told him. Derek agreed and radioed to aaron to tell him.

We quickly made our way down to the field, separating due to how big it was. “are you sure you’re okay if we separate?” derek asked me. I told him yes. He went left and I went right.

After about 5 minutes of going into the field, I heard a noise behind me. I quickly tried to radio “I think I hea-” but was quickly cut off when I got thrown to the ground. “you fucking bitch” he told me.

I tried to get up but then a loud gunshot rang out and I quickly realized I had just been shot in the abdomen.

The unsub quickly ran.

“Y/L/N do you copy” aaron shouted into the radio.

“Y/L/N I repeat do you copy?!” He said louder this time.

“Y/N” he shouted with fear in his voice.

I did everything I could to try and answer but I couldn’t. I can’t even imagine how scared aaron is right now. I really wish he was here.

“y/n” i heard and quickly realized it was aaron. thank god he found me. He quickly rushed over to me and screamed into his radio “I need a medic immediately, agent down, gunshot wound to the abdomen, medic now”

I looked at the love of my life as tears rolled down my cheeks. I could see the fear in his eyes. “It’s okay you’re gonna be okay” He told me. “I lo- love you aaron” I told him in fear. “I love you so much y/n you are going to be okay I promise” I began to cry more as my eye lids became heavier.

“no no no you can’t close your eyes let me see those beautiful eyes of yours”

“i’m scared”

I could see how that made him more upset. “you are going to be okay, we’re gonna grow old together and have children. You are the love of my life and I promise you it will all be okay” He told me as he put pressure on my abdomen and stroked my hair.

“tha- that” i try to say but I choke on my blood coming out of my mouth. He turns me on my side and screams “WHERE IS THE FUCKING MEDIC” I can hear the fear in his voice. “a- aaron” i say desperately. “it’s okay sweetie it’s all okay” he told me.

“i’m- im so tired” “i know sweetie i know but keep those pretty eyes open alittle longer” I can see the tears rolling down his cheeks and I so desperately want to close my eyes but I do my best not too.

We hear sirens and aaron starts screaming “WE’RE OVER HERE”

I begin to close my eyes. “no no no no please open your eyes y/n.” he cries out. you do your best to open your eyes but you can’t and the last thing you remember is him screaming for you to open your eyes.

aarons pov:

Derek has to practically drag me away from y/n as the paramedics hurry on over. “gunshot wound to the abdomen” i quickly tell them as tears run down my cheeks. “I have to go with her” i tell derek. “aaron listen to me, you are in no condition to go with her. they will take care of her but you need to listen to me, jj is going to ride with her, she’ll be okay” derek told me.

We all quickly arrive at the hospital and I am a mess. I go to the restroom and look in the mirror. I have so much blood on me. It looks like i’ve been shot. My breath catches in the back of my throat. I can’t believe. I don’t know what i’ll do if she doesn’t make it. She is the love of my life she has to be okay. “aaron you should change your clothes” I look up to see derek holding out a bag of clothes. I can tell he’s scared.

“derek, what if she dies? i- i can’t live without her she has to be okay” i say as tears roll down my cheeks.

“y/n is one of the strongest girls I have ever met, she will be okay and she has you waiting for her when she wakes up. I know she will wake up” he reassures me.

He leaves the bathroom giving me time to compose myself. I start to think about all the memories I have with y/n.

y/n joined the team 8 years ago. We started dating 6 years ago and got married 3 years ago. She is the love of my life. y/n has been there for me through everything, she is kind, smart, beautiful and my girl.

i decide to change my clothes because i have so much blood on mine. i change my clothes and try my best to wash my hands but there is still blood on them no matter how much i wash them. I punch the mirror out of frustration. I NEED her to be okay.

I walk out of the bathroom and go back to the waiting room. “y/f/n y/l/n” we hear. I quickly stand up as the doctor walks over to us. “y/n lost a lot of blood, it was touch and go for awhile but we managed to get her back. The bullet did a lot of damage. she should wake up within the next few hours but we recommend one person at a time in there so she doesn’t get overwhelmed. She will need to stay here in the hospital for about a week or two. She will need help and I highly recommend she does not stay alone.” He told us. The entire team sighs in relief knowing that y/n will be okay. They all tell me to go see her first.

“i’m her husband, she’ll be with me” I quickly told him. “Am i able to see her?” “yes you can, follow me please”

I quickly stand up and follow him to y/n’s room. “Once you take her home in about a week or two, it’s important to make sure her wound doesn’t get infected. you are going to have to change her bandage once a day, she can’t do it herself. It’ll be very painful but if you don’t do it, it could get infected. She is going to be in alot of pain and it will be hard for her to do most things. It’s important to make sure she rests and doesn’t overdo it.” He informs me.

“I’ll take care of her” I tell him. I walk into her room and the doctors leaves. A tear rolls down my cheek as I look at her. I know she is going to be okay but I don’t want her to be in pain. I pull up a chair and sit next to her. I take her hand into mine. I don’t know how long i’ve been sitting here, it might have been 5 minutes or it might have been 2 hours. I feel her squeeze my hand.

“y/n” I say softly as I stroke her hair. She squeezes my hand again. “hey hey hey y/n open your eyes my love” I tell her. She slowly opens her eyes. “hi beautiful” I tell her as a tears runs down my cheek. “aaron” she says but it comes out all raspy. “it’s okay” I say as I wipe the tears that fall from her eyes

“what happened” she asks. “we went to catch the unsub and you got shot in the abdomen” I softly told her as I stroked her hair. “I wanna go home” she cried out. “I know baby I know, you have to stay here for about a week but then we’ll go home and i’ll take care of you y/n/n” I tell her.

“I love you aaron” “I love you y/n”

“Do you want to see the rest of the team?” I softly asked her. She nods her head. I go and get the rest of the team, they are all so happy to see her awake. They all stay for about 2 hours but then we can all see how tired y/n is. They say there goodbyes and head out.

“where is jack?” she asks me

“he is staying with Jessica right now, i’ll go get him tomorrow and bring him here”

“I’d love to see him tomorrow”

“I’ll make sure he is here . You should get some rest sweetheart” I tell her softly. “i’m not tired” “I can tell when you’re lying, I know you are tired why don’t you rest those pretty little eyes of yours?”

“I want to spend time with you” I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll be right here when you wake up”

“promise?”

“I promise” I say as I kiss her forehead and stroke her hair. I watch as she slowly falls asleep.

one week later

The doctors have cleared y/n to go home today. I know how badly she wants to go home.

“Are you ready to go home?” I ask her. “yes please. can you- can you help me change into my clothes?” she asks me as she looks at the floor.

“Of course i’ll help you, don’t be ashamed” I softly tell her.

I guide her into the bathroom with her clothes in my hand. I pull the string on her gown and pull it off of her. I help her put her underwear and sweatpants on as she groans in pain. “i know sweetie i’m sorry” i tell her. I help her put her bra and sweatshirt on.

We eventually arrive home and I help her up the stairs and into the house. We make our way to the couch and I slowly help her sit down. She groans in pain.

“I’m sorry sweetie I know it hurts”

I see her eyes fill with tears as she leans into me. I give her a hug and ask her “what do you need?”

“I just need you aaron, I love you”

“I love you too” I say as I kiss her forehead. “Do you think you’re up for Jack to come back home? I’ve been having him stay with Jessica while you were in the hospital”

“i’d love for Jack to come back home”

Two hours later

It is now 8pm and Jessica has just brought Jack back over and i’m so happy to see y/n and Jack happy. I made sure to let Jack know he needs to be careful because y/n is very hurt.

“Y/N” I hear jack yell happily

“hi buddy” I hear y/n say happily. Jack gives her a hug but he makes sure to be careful. I can see how tired y/n is. “How about we watch a movie?” I say to both Jack and y/n

“YAY MOVIE” jack yells and y/n giggles. I sit on the end, y/n in the middle and Jack next to y/n. We let jack pick the movie. He picks the polar express.

About 30 minutes into the movie, I can really tell y/n is struggling to stay awake. “lean on my shoulder y/n it’s okay if you fall asleep” I whisper to her. She slowly leans her head on my shoulder and I ask her if she is in any pain, she says she isn’t.

She quickly falls asleep and I kiss her forehead. After the movie is over, y/n is still sleeping and Jack looks tired.

“Jack” I whisper

“yes daddy?”

“why don’t we get you to bed?”

“what about y/n?”

“don’t worry about her buddy, I got her”

I slowly stand up and lay y/n’s head down on the pillow. Jack gives y/n a kiss on the forehead and I smile. He really loves her. He doesn’t call her mom which I completely understand but I know he looks up to her like a mother figure.

I take Jack to bed. “I love you Jack, good night buddy” I tell him.

“Goodnight daddy I love you too”

I go back out to y/n and slowly pick her up, being extra careful. She groans in pain. “It’s okay sweetie i’m just taking you to bed”

I lay her under the covers and sit next to her. I stroke her hair and ask her “are you in pain sweetie?”

she nods her head yes as tears fill her eyes

“I’ll go get you one of your pain pills”

I quickly go get her a painkiller and a glass of water. She takes it and I get in bed with her.

“what do you need?”

“I just need you”

I slowly move over so i’m directly next to her and lay her head on my chest carefully.

“is this good?” I ask her

“it’s perfect”

“go to sleep sweetheart” I tell her. I can feel her breathing slow down as she falls asleep.

[carlgrimesloverr]

sk8ergirl

aaron hotchner x fem!super star!reader

summary : when aaron and haley were young, they were on and off. during one off the ‘offs’ aaron met her. 10 years later, she’s famous, and he’s stuck unhappy in a marriage that was more out of convenience then love.

takes place during : season 1

warnings :  some of the songs / bands i bring up don’t exactly… exist in 2005, but i love them, i love hotch, and i love angst so it’s ok. 

word count : 931

“spence please come with me to this concert” jj pleaded with the brunette, who just shrugged.

“i’ve never heard of the artist- plus gideon and i are going to have a chess match soon. just invite elle, i’m sure she will go with you.” he responded, eyes not leaving the chess board in front of him.

“elle’s busy this weekend, so is morgan! i don’t want to have to ask hotch, not while haley is pregnant!” the blonde whined.

“ask hotch what?” aaron asked, appearing in the bullpen out from his office, staring down at jj with the same expression as always.

“oh! sir- hi, uh, i just have tickets to a concert this weekend but no one to go with..”

“what artist? it may be one haley likes if you’d like to go with her.”

“(y/n)! she’s actually from the same area you are maybe you kn-“

hotch froze. ignoring everything else jj said he quickly left to go to his office.

it didn’t take a fool to put the pieces together, and the question rang out in his head. were you a musician now? you followed your dreams after moving away.. you really did it.

he wanted to know more, he needed to know more. but he couldn’t call in penelope to learn more, if he asked penelope then he ran the risk of the team knowing.

despite jj’s mockery, hotch did know how to work a computer, and how to search up things online. as hotch researched you now, he realised you had an album named after him. well, maybe not him exactly, but ‘AHH.’ seemed a bit too close to the “aaron ‘hotch’ hotchner” you used to date.

scrolling through the list of 20 songs, he noticed it was a breakup album, full of hate and feelings of betrayal.

looking at the first song, hotch was shocked. “‘circles ft. pierce the veil’?” he asked out loud. pierce was a big band, he knew that much. he had heard jj talking of them to derek before. the lyrics felt more like a love song, yet hotch could read into the tone, how you always reffered to you and him as ‘running’, trying to escape something. escape haley.

the next track, ‘girlfriend ft. avril lavigne’. hotch didn’t even have to look at the lyrics to know what it was about- it was a diss to haley. once again, you were angry. you had every right to be angry, though hotch couldn’t even begin to understand why you blamed haley. hotch was the one who left you, haley never forced him. he was the bad guy, not haley.

as he kept reading the tracks, he realised more and more how he had hurt you. songs featuring eminem, paramore, my chemical romance, weezer, alanis morissette, the used, the offspring, and fall out boy. alanis morissette. you used to rave about her album ‘jagged little pill’ to him when you were laying in his bed, bodies as close as could be.

the main track, ‘sk8ergirl’, was what really did it for him. what story were you telling? you were happy with someone else? or was it from the point of view of 17 year old you? a boy and a girl, extremely obvious about how they were in love but never ended up together. the boy was a bitch, basically. and so the girl went on and fell in love with a rockstar. were you calling aaron a bitch, and boosting your own ego like that? or was it a swapped gender roles, to make it less obvious? aaron couldn’t tell.

no matter what the song was written about, aaron had hurt you. and you took it out in the only way you knew how; music. aaron joined theatre to gain haleys attention, you wrote songs about him to let off some steam; maybe even gain his attention. but no matter how much steam you let off, aaron was still with haley, and you were still alone, with that red and black fender squire stratocaster you had so proudly shown hotch when you were seniors, the one you put together yourself. the red grain pickguard was your favourite feature of the whole guitar, hotch remembering so clearly how you ranted on and on.

‘no no- most strats are one basic colour for this area here, the pickguard. this is a grain! it has a cool pattern!’ you had told him, smiling widely as you pointed out the features on your guitar. ‘i want to get a bass that’s the exact opposite! red grain body, black pickguard. wouldn’t that be so cool? you should learn bass, then we could play together! i’m writing up this song right now, think i’m gonna call it “i’m with you”, the bass part is pretty simple!’

‘i’m with you’. fourth track. a love song. you had kept it in the album? you had published a song so clearly written about aaron? he could still remember you softly humming the melody, still not fully having worked out the lyrics. it was about being alone - something like standing on a bridge, no one looking for you - when someone comes to your rescue and saves you from that darkness.

“you still released it, even though you’re alone.” hotch hummed to himself, continuing to search you up.

single.

never married.

no kids.

doesn’t party much.

still went out skating constantly.

said in an interview you were ‘still caught in the whirlwind romance of high school’.

caught in the ‘betrayal of it all’.

you really were the sk8ergirl, weren’t you?

[lablim64]

Its-a-here!

Tbh I'm quite proud of this lol

Enjoooyyyyy

↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

Dr Albert: *kidnaps a damn 17 year old* ah yes, totally normal 😌

I love the faces and actions in the video lol

Like look at this-

If we take it out of content, it looks like a Son and father in a bad relationship, trying to take a damn photo XD

Lim face tho "bitch, let me go-" XD

Or this one lmao

"Shhh..stay silent little gentleman."

Some words Albert told lim before locking him in a damn cell lol

I love making memes out of these lol

Lim when jim walks in:

(Name similarity lol)

"That son of a..BITC-" -Albert

XD XD

When you actually hear clear mumbling noises in your basement:

HAHA LOL

Pov: you got caught cheating on a test

Me: the teacher:

Bruh moment lol-

Anyway I'll make more let me just post this already XD

Ehem-

Dr Albert Morgan belongs to @weirdsillycreature

And lim belongs to me

Say y'all on the next part of the big mission :p

[brujahinaskirt]

look i love john marston once and true i really do but listen if i were ms. abigail roberts

i would have shacked up with arthur so fucking fast after john ditched me his lil possum-man head would have been spinning on his neck way out in whatever hole he was hiding from the smoking ashes of my broken heart in. "stand by your man?" "give him space?" "take a chance that love exists?" no. i would not. i would have simply turned around and brought The Big Hoss to stable with EXTREME marston-negative malice. i know i know, arthur is sooo loyal he wouldn't leave dutch but yes he fucking would. we are not talking about some copypasta y/n buckle bunny here with no distinguishing features. this is ABIGAIL FUCKING ROBERTS. are you telling me if abigail "The Best Person Alive" (Arthur Morgan, "Abigail You're the Best" speech, 1899) roberts walked up to this babytalking Fatherhood And Other Dreams-addicted wifeless Wifeguy with a cooing toddler stuck under her arm and said "arthur you're jack's daddy now. arthur he's soooo small arthur. he's the size of a single grapefruit. arthur we have to protect your microscopic pea-sized incredibly tiny son" he would not have said Yes Maam and split that camp like the ass crack in a pair of Forever 21 jeans. i'm sorry to this woman but if i were Miss Thang the Van der Linde Princess Herself I would never have waited on a man (J*HN M*RSTON) to come crawling back to me. wait for what?????? i would have waltzed up to that sad sagging open concept tent, outstretched my gleaming ex girlfriend eagle talon and snatched mr I'm-a-Lonesome-Cowboy by his barely concealed raging domesticity stiffy and we would have blown that fucking outfit in two shakes and a holler. i would have ZOOMED onto that orhter-mahrrgahn-shaped gravy train at such fucking velocity you would not believe it. dump ME like a rusted can of peaches. oh no no no. could NOT be me. me and MY peaches would have been out of that whole marston sitchuation and making nice with big brother on a little homestead somewhere at mach 1 (one vindictive bitch) speed. leave me with a fucking baby sleeping on the grass. kiss my outlaw ass. not if I'M ABIGAIL FUCKING ROBERTS. john would have come stumbling back a year later dragging his jaw behind him like "huh??? wuut??? MY BABYCAKE IS WHERE??? WITH WHO" and the revelation that the bad bitch he tossed out with his toenail clippings was now eating bon bons or whatever on his brother's knee in callyfornya would car compact john's world into the size of a soup can. but i wouldn't bat one pretty eyelash about it because i would be spending my enormous devoted husband's train robbing funds on exotic fruits and fancy $15 token mugs and other dumb shit. john fucking god damned linguini legs marston. break my goddamn heart?? bet. arthur knows how abigail takes her coffee. jack would not even know who tf john marston is.

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

Pierce: dude. They got married?! Lucas: Nope! but they are kinda engaged Pierce: ''kinda''? Lucas: they got their rings as a way to… show how much they like each other Lucas: like friendship bracelets but make it romantic Pierce: so, promise rings Lucas: [chuckles] yeah, you worded it way better.

WG: …sooo Yuki: I’m trying to play? WG: can I just- it’s one question! Yuki: …alright. WG: you guys have a cat? Morgan always wanted one but y’know. Siobhan’s allergy Yuki: [nods] we have four WG: Holy shit- [clears throat] i mean, good! nice. Yuki: checkmate WG: I wasn’t trying to win Yuki: this was nice, thank you WG: uh. Anytime WG: hold on, where are you- Yuki: man, can we just leave it at ''nice''? WG: …what? Yuki: you’re not bad, Wolfgang. I mean yeah, I do think you were a bitch back then, still do. But you’re not bad Yuki: you’re just being stupid. Yuki: we’re in San My, if you ever want to visit. I know Morgan would love that WG: …word.

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi my name is Cal. I love HOTD/Bucky/fandom✨

About me: I’m a current psych major, part-time fruit chopper, Gecko mother always. One recovering alcoholic of 2 years, please feel free to reach out if you struggle or are in the same boat!!! White ass bitch from the Southeast US but will pester you with cultural questions.

I love sexy blonde Incest bitches, incel knight, and unstable metal armed man. Writing started as my sober hobby now I’ve been gifted 2% Latina!

ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT (Targaryens n Velaryons🦚, Criston🦚, Harwin Strong, Robb, Jon, Jaime)

Note: I do NOT write for Daemon or Luke

I write for marvel (Bucky🦚, Zemo, Marc Spector, Matt Murdock, Adam Warlock)

The Last Of Us (Tommy Miller🦚 and Joel Miller)

Seb Stan Characters: (Lee Bodecker🦚, Charles Blackwood, Steve Kemp, Lance Tucker)

Rdr2 (Arthur Morgan & John Marston)

Ask Box‼️: Open (check list)

Short headcanons ❌

Blurbs ❌

Questions ✅

Shitposting ✅

Silly edits ✅

Fic length one-shots ❌

Taglist❣️: Comment here (no it’s not a threat…unless?)

Into: M/F, M/M, fem dom, pegging, sex in any position, bdsm (light), breeding kink, man tears, angst, drunk sex, switching, actually non-smut things, daddy kink

Nope: F/F (I’m really bad at writing it and cursed to be really into dicks), literally just ask me!! Dead dove and niche kinks aren’t really an issue unless it’s like gory or stanky

Tags:

Smut 🍐 || Angst 🟢|| SFW 💚 || Dead dove🔫|| Fluff🐼 || Master ✨

Kink Bingo - Done!

Au Bingo - indefinite hiatus :(

Marvel:

***More of it is on my Ao3 linked in my bio :)

Bucky Barnes

“You’re my mission!”✨

Baron Helmut Zemo

The Call Girl🍐🐼

ASOIAF/HOTD:

Pairings:

No Conviction - Criston Cole x Aegon II🍐🟢🔫

Aegon II Targaryen

"You Do Know How The Act Is Done, Don't You?"✨

Ser Criston Cole

“Do You Want Me To Kill Him?”✨

Related Characters

Masterlist✨

Others:

Tommy Miller (TLOU)

Little Slice o’ Heaven🍐🐼

Dirty Talk🍐🐼

Cockwarming🍐🐼

Lee Bodecker (Devil All The Time)

You can be my daddy🍐🐼

Western AU🍐🐼

Lance Tucker (The Bronze)

God of what? 🍐

[gaysullengirl]

❝ i'm tired of feeling like im fucking crazy. ❞

- lana del rey, ride

    "Reid." Hotch narrowed his eyes at him, "I apologize." Hotch continued.

"I don't." Spencer mumbled, just loud enough for Isabelle to hear, she bit her lip to stop a laugh from slipping out.

"We've heard those phrases before When we interview school shooters." Isabelle explained to the oblivious counselor.

Emily rushed into the room, "Jordan was the motive for Kyle Borden, it was revenge."

"I need to speak to the boys who made this video immediately."

"I'll check their class schedules." The counselor scrambled to his computer to find out, his face dropped immediately, "What is it?"

"None of them show up at school."

୨୧

The local police station smelled of finger printing ink and old coffee, Isabelle enjoyed the smell, it reminded her of when she was a detective for the nypd.

The team heard the familiar sound of Garcia urgently typing on her computer through the phone call, "He deleted everything but the one mpeg." She sighed.

"I'm walking Morgan through retrieving what he put in the trash, but-"

"We've got three missing kids, Garcia, we need access to Owen's E-Mail." Hotch clenched his jaw.

"The kid is tech savvy, sir, but fret not, I am tech savvier!" She exclaimed, "Is that a word? That sounds like a word, if it is a word, I am it!"

"Two alienated kids, no maternal presence, dysfunctional relationships with dominating fathers who with held love, they were made for each other." Rossi said.

Emily shook her head, "Mm, as lovers, yes, but partners in crime, no."

"There's nothing in Jordan's profile that indicates she's capable of violence, and certainly not murder."

"A new mpeg just posted to the school social networking site." Garcia breathed heavily, "He- you need to see this."

A video popped up on the screen, it was of three boys, all on their knees while their hands were on their head infront on a lake.

"It was a joke, man!" One of the boys said, "We didn't mean anything by it!" Another boy shouted, "It was 3 years ago, no one even remembers it." The last boy argued.

"I do." A voice behind the camera said.

"No, owen!" "Don't! Don't!" "Please! No-" The three boys pleaded, they were cut off by gunshots ringing out.

"Garcia, is there any way to trace the mpeg to the computer that sent it?"

୨୧

"Once you've heard the profile, you'll understand." Jj told the officers that were gathered around.

Hotch, Rossi, and Spencer went to the scene where the boys were killed and figured out Owen was collecting injustices- the perfect revenge.

"We are wasting time, Owen is here, and we should be knocking on doors." An officer argued. 

"It's not a good idea." "And why is that?" "Because Owen's watching, he's monitoring the news, right now, he thinks you think he's gone, he feels safe."

"If we start knocking on doors, he's gonna know that he's not, he's gonna feel trapped."

"Why the hell should we care about this little bastard's feelings?" Another officer chimed in.

Isabelle gritted her teeth, "We're here to help you bring in Owen Savage with minimum loss of life, the profile tells us how to do that, if all you're gonna do is bitch and complain then you can leave." She scoffed.

Spencer smiled at her, "Owen Savage fits the profile of a type of school shooter known as an injustice collector, he's trying to avenge perceived wrongs."

"If he's a school shooter, why hasn't he hit the school yet?"

"Jordan. Most of these guys are so angry and hopeless, they just want to kill as many people as possible then commit suicide." Emily explained.

"But Jordan gives him a reason to live."

Isabelle glanced at Spencer 'He gives me a reason to live.' She thought.

Isabelle hated that in so twisted way she related to Owen- she almost felt bad for him in a way.

Growing up in a small town and constantly being the outsider- no matter how hard he tried to fit in and find the acceptance of his peers he never did.

"Otherwise he's a textbook case, his life was one torment after another, his teachers gave up on him, his classmates bullied him, and his father blamed him while giving him access to guns." Spencer said.

"Given these conditions, you're actually quite fortunate." He added.

"It sounds like you're saying these victims deserved this."

"We're not, nobody deserves this." Derek said.

"But you could have prevented it." Spencer lowered his eyes at the officer.

"Reid, can I talk to you?" Hotch said, it was framed as a question but was more of a statement.

The two walked into an empty conference room only a few moments later they exited, Spencer stormed to the exit of the precinct.

Isabelle walked over to Hotch, "He's going to the Savages' residence." Hotch whispered, his eyes still focused on Spencer.

"Can I go with him?" She asked, Hotch's eyes darted to her face, profiling her.

"It's just- his room was really interesting and insightful, his mirror was painted over indicating severe self hatred-" "You can go." Hotch cut her off.

Isabelle quickly ran to the parking lot, getting into the suv parked outside.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, "I'm going with you. Hotch said I could."

Spencer just nodded and started driving.

A few minutes into the drive he turned to Isabelle, "I know what it's like to be afraid of your own mind." He admitted.

Isabelle immediately faced him, "I'm not." She lied, she wasn't just trying to convince him but herself as well.

Isabelle hated feeling crazy, when her feeling controlled her rather than her controlling them.

"I've seen the way you've been reacting this whole case." He looked to her.

"Isa, honey, I know you."

authors note!

sorry for the short chapter, next one will be longer trust🤞also i'm finally done with my school year so more consistent updates are afoot!

[yourimagines]

Game night

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: swearing

- Summary; you have a game night with Morgan

Y/N POV

“Let’s get this party started!” I plopped down in his gaming chair. “Where do I sit now?” Morgan tried to pull me out of his chair. “I was first!” “It’s my chair, get out.” I laughed and pushed his hand away. “Go, take the other chair.” He huffed. “It’s not fair, your the guest you should sit on the mini chair.” He picked up the mini chair and sat it next to me. “I’m the guest Morgan, you should treat me like a princess.” I smiled at him, he shakes his head. “Unbelievable.” I playfully pushed his shoulder. “Come on, it’s not that bad.” He looked up. “I think you should be quiet now.” I hide my giggle behind my hands. “Let’s start this game.” He gave me a controller as he started the game.

“No…!” He shoot up from his chair. “What the hell!” He sat back down again, I was laughing. “Terrible team mate, dog shit!” I was laughing out loud, winning the game. “Nah nah, this is not…. It’s terrible.” “Yess!” He rolled his eyes. “You only won because I’ve had a blind teammate.” “Yeah yeah, just admit I won.” I smiled at him he tried not to smile back. “I don’t agree with that.” He looked away, starting a new game. “You love me tho.” “I never said I didn’t.” I saw a small smile on his face. I quickly leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “Let’s do a rematch then.” “Your gonna lose this round.” I laughed. “We’ll see Morgan, we’ll see.”

Morgan went downstairs to the kitchen for some snacks. I was looking through his characters he collected on the game. “I have a lot, so we need to eat all of this.” I looked up at him, his hands and arms full with food. “Morgan.” I said in a shocking voice. He chuckled as he places it down. “All of your favourite snacks.” “I don’t know if I can eat all of this.” “Baby we have the whole night, don’t worry.” He placed everything on a good spot and sat down. “These look good.” I grabbed a bag of candy and took a hand full eating them. “Okay next game?” I nodded while stuffing my mouth full of candy.

I was sitting on the smaller chair, Morgan was playing a game while I was watching. “Watch out, he’s attacking you.” “I know.” I looked away from the screen to look at him. His eyes glued on the screen. Mumbling softly. “There we go, bye bitch.” I smiled at him, he was laughing and looked at me. “What?” “Nothing, just watching you play.” He smiles at me. “Do you wanna play?” I shook my head. “No I like to watch for now.” “Okay, here.” He gave me chocolate cookies. “Thanks, can you also pass my glass?” He nods and gives me my glass. “That’s it or?” “No, one more thing.” “And that is?” I pointed at my lips. He smiles and leans over to me, placing a kiss on my lips. “Good now?” I pretended to think. “Yeah, for now.” He laughs. “Good, I need to treat my guest as a princess.” I playfully pushed his arm. “That was terrible.” “But you like it.” I nodded. “Because it was so terrible Morgan.” We both were laughing. “But you love me.” “Yes I do love you.” I placed a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t want to ruin this but your under attack.” He looked at his screen. “Ah shit.” I giggled as he tried to fight off the enemy.