#hubby morgan

[johnpriceslamb]

— 𝓙𝓐𝓝𝓤𝓐𝓡𝓨

You are to be wedded by the end of the year. Upon travelling, you’re met with a group of pesky bandits.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 : age gap . fem ! reader . afab ! reader . hyper feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than chars mentioned in story . reader is in early 20’s . arthur is in late 20’s - early 30’s . fighting scenes . gore . traditional gender stereotypes heavily mentioned .

At the end of the year, you’ll be married off to a man.

Someone strong, handsome, clever, and gentle in heart. You hope.

“Marriage is the ultimate goal for a woman.”

Your corset is tightened by your nanny from behind. The tightness of it makes your breath hitch slightly, hands curling up unconsciously.

In the late winters of 1892, the rolling plains of Lemoyne were no match for nobility. You were dragged along by daddy who was on a grand tour in the west, despite not being keen on the idea. He insisted on seeing the rails and trains he invested in, so you didn’t have much of a choice other than to tag along.

She ushers you to stand up so she could fit the petticoat around your hips. The bands of the voluptuous under-skirt were stretched, allowing you to titter in the large hole and shape your figure again. You’re thankful that it’s a lightweight cotton fabric, considering that all the other layers you adorned added a bit more unnecessary weight to your small frame. Then comes the underskirt, adding another layer of volume and structure.

“If a man stares at you, avoid direct eye contact by using the fan your grandmother has gifted you.” She instructs, remembering the lessons your governess taught you. Her frail hands place the soft, silk evening bodice over your tightened corset. A beautiful little thing which accentuated your curves even more so, kissed with ribbons and flares below the piece.

The burning wood which crackled near the fireplace left a smell around the changing room which you longed for. You’ll be leaving in just a few more minutes, having to face the harsh winter storms outside. You wonder to yourself if the amount of beauty products delicately touched on your face was really worth it, considering that the weather outside will most likely dishevel it. And of course, you’ll be spending most of the day travelling by carriage.

Finally, the skirt. The main part of your outfit. Nanny brushes off the remaining particles on the skirt with her wrinkled hands. You couldn’t help but admire the beautiful little thing, pleated with satin which ended with small bows. She repeats the steps like for the other underskirts, stretching the band, allowing you to step in, and lifting it up to shape your figure.

Upon the stool you sat, you squirm uncomfortably because of the amount of layers you had to wear. She notices, and kisses her tongue.

“A woman should not squirm uncontrollably in their seat.” She hisses, lightly tapping your hands with a ruler as a way to discipline you. “Repeat what I have said.”

A sigh escapes your tinted lips. You hold out your hands.

“Marriage is the ultimate goal for women,” You repeat, “I must not stare back at a man and avoid direct eye contact.”

“Why must you not stare back at a man?” She asks.

You hesitate. The ruler comes down to your skin and places a stinging kiss. You hiss at the pain.

“B-because—” Another hit.

“No stuttering.”

You take a shaky breath, enduring the soft whimper which begs to escape from the bottom of your throat, “Because returning a man’s gaze could interpret as an invitation or a sign of interest.”

“What must you do if they stare?”

“Avoid eye contact by using my grandmothers’ fan.”

“Good.” She nods her head in approval. You place your hands neatly on your lap, looking down to avoid eye contact.

You’re ready to leave as soon as she ties the delicate satin bonnet on your head, ensuring that your face is covered with enough shade provided by the head piece. With the helping hands of the maids in daddy’s manor, all of your luggage was carried to the boot of the carriage. You bid your goodbyes to a few of your selected favourite maids, lightly kissing their cheeks before tittering away.

As soon as you walked outside, you knew that the cold winters of ‘92 would affect you much more than you’d expect. Suddenly, you appreciate the amount of layers you adorned. You could hardly feel the cold winds blowing even if you stuck your head outside the carriage’s openings.

The old man who drives the carriage around hops out of that tall seat in front to open the door and lend a hand for you to enter in. Upon entering in, you can see that there was a small lit candle; your only source of warmth.

You feel really glad for all of the layers.

You vaguely remember daddy boasting about all of the railroads built all over this part of America. ‘The Central Union Railroad’, a camp made up by working men who were in charge of building all railroads— daddy owned that camp. Some parts of you feel grateful for being raised in wealth and comfort, while the remaining parts felt guilty for seeing others having to slave away just to get ends meet.

You’re not convinced that all the men in that camp were capable of working. You’ve seen a good litter of youths labouring here and there. You pitied them greatly but alas: you were a woman. The most you could do was provide them more food rations and safety gear.

But as time slowly passed by, you’ve noticed the laws overseeing the amount of child labour happening in businesses. Daddy wasn’t too happy seeing a slight decline of workers in his company, nevertheless it did make your lips curl up a bit.

You’re not particularly interested in watching the railroads daddy invests and funded in, only because your thoughts immediately go back to the amount of workers that barely get payed to slave away in building these roads.

On the other hand, it was also how you’re able to sleep in a large manor everyday.

The roads slowly turned more bumpy and rough when leaving Lemoyne territory. You’re quite surprised that your carriage hasn’t been robbed considering the amount of warnings of raiders being littered across this part of territory. Your beady eyes boredly peer out of the windows of the carriage, watching the distant white-tipped evergreen trees pass by.

There wasn’t much to do other than watch nature unfold or perhaps pester the driver. You’d rather the former since you don’t even know the drivers name.

You can still feel the stings from that stupid ruler your nanny punished you with. They catch onto the fabric, which makes you twitch a bit at the abrupt pain. The more bumpier the road was, the more it caught on.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve left home. If you remembered correctly, you’d be arriving to a town somewhere in Chicago. You peak out to the driver up front, politely asking him what the time was. You left during the early hours of the morning, and you could see the sun rise much more.

His warm, honey-dew tipped voice replies back with a frail ‘9 in the morning’. Just a few more hours until they reach to Chicago. Maybe even another day is to be filled with travelling.

You can’t help but sigh, “Could we take a break and rest somewhere in a few hours time?”

The old man hums, “We may, if that is what you wish.”

You smile sweetly. Of course, being told no was quite foreign to you. “Thank you kindly.”

You rest back onto the velvety cushions, heaving out another deep sigh. You look out of the openings again, and for the first time in a few months you lay eyes upon a long stretch of natural snowy land. It’s a vast difference between the usual scenery you’d see back in Lemoyne. There was no puffs of dark grey smoke in the sky, the heavy scent of engines and oil running wasn’t to be smelt, the bellowing of officers directing a crowd, no city life around.

Sometimes you’d see a few run-down stables with a few animals. Other times you’d just see landmarks with just the never-ending cold covering in it. On one occasion around noon, you saw a dead animal with its bones protruding out. Your nose scrunches up at the sight before looking away to the other opening of the carriage. Not much of a difference in scenery.

You tinker your lashes out of boredom, now playing with the satin-tipped bows on your bodice. The travel becomes much slower and difficult because of the amount of snow which catches onto the wheels of the carriage. It’s excruciatingly difficult to be entertained in these types of situations, considering that you left your novels back at home. You scoot back to the front seat of the carriage, peaking out to the man who lead the vehicle.

“May we please take a stop over there?” You ask with a shy smile, gesturing towards the small town from afar. You wonder if there’s any pastry stores nearby. The last time you ate was a few hours ago, a bowl of porridge and a few thin slices of bread. The man acknowledges your polite request with a gruff.

There’s been a bit of a food problem because of the cold winter, more snow meant less crops being able to grow and lesser animals being produced. You’ve been stuck on porridge and bread for a while now, and you’re hoping that it’ll change.

Once the driver stopped near the town, you’re greeted with the wind yet again. You unconsciously curl inward to protect yourself from the cold, peering at the people who lived in this little area. It’s humble, isolated, quiet.

Cold. Too cold.

You take a few steps, the bottoms of your shoes caked with snow. The man beside you takes ahold of your arm in case of any danger which falls upon you. He coughs a bit when the air hits his lungs. You pity him, asking if he needed a hot cup of tea or anything of the sorts to get him to warm up again.

His old eyes light up at the mention of tea.

“You mustn’t fret over me, my lady.” He whispers lowly.

“I insist.”

He takes a slow breath before sighing. “ If you must.”

Another pause to take a deep breath, “Your attitude is nothing like your father’s.”

You quirk a brow, “Pardon?”

He grabs onto your arm for support, mindlessly dawdling. “It’s a shame that you’ll be married off soon. When you see potential candidates during this trip, take a look at his attributes rather than his looks.”

What?

You tilt your head, “I thought this trip was a tour around the West.”

He grunts slightly, flinching a bit. “Perhaps I’ve spoken too much.”

Before you utter out another word of disbelief, you’re met with a click of a gun.

“Another step from either one of ye’,” A hoarse voice from behind grumbles like a predator, “One of yer head’s gon’ be rollin’.”

You’ve never been in situations like these before. Your nerves are getting to you. A soft sob escapes from your mouth as the tip of the gun threatens to puncture the back of your head. Your hands are immediately up in defence, beady eyes staring back at the frail man who could not do anything but mimic your actions.

You croak, “Please, sir. We don’t have anything valuable for you—”

Many more of them pop up. As if a litter of ants come and pour, the man behind scoffs before kicking your knees to buckle and kneel on the floor.

“Bullshit,” He snarls, “Look at what yer wearing. Pretty lil’ thing like ye’ ought to have somethin’ hidin’ under that skirt of yers.”

“What do we do with this one, boss?” One of them knocks the nozzle of his gun into the old man’s head. An old wail of pain escapes him, and your eyes water even more as you helplessly look around.

“Get rid of ‘em.”

“Wait, please! Don’t harm him! He hasn’t done anything wrong!” You sob, trying to reach out for him— only to be held back by these bandits, “No- stop, stop!”

The man who holds you back cackles, mocking your high-pitched pleas and sobs. The old man is knocked out with another blow to the head with the end of the bandit’s gun. You could see the back of his head starting to bleed.

“I’m telling you, a pretty girl like ‘er would sell real well in the markets.”

“How much do you think we could make?”

Another tug on your bodice gets you to raggedly gasp. Before your eyes peer to the Heavens above and beg for mercy, bullets from afar ring past and alert the others. You can hear gallops of multiple horses coming your way, and a heap of other outlaws.

“Shit, ‘s the Van Der Linde Gang!” The leader of the group- who currently holds you captive in his arms, yells at his group to gun them down. A bullet zooms past and catches onto his shoulder which allows you wiggle away and squirm to hide.

With the remaining strength you had, you drag the driver’s unconscious body with you and behind a barrel. He’s cold, everything is cold, you’re cold.

He’s dead.

The impact of the gun’s end must of cracked his skull. Tears pour down your beauty-tinted face, mustering up quiet prayers for him. Bullets are the only thing you can hear, accompanied with loud bellows and curses.

You have never in your life witnessed anything like this before.

You peak from the barrel, watching the man who gunned your driver down drops dead to the floor from one bullet which hits his head. Another array of shots are fired, and soon enough the litter of bandits are all gone.

Your ears perk when you hear them converse lowly, “Who the hell were those guys?”

“I don’t know, son. John, you ‘n Bill find supplies ‘round this town. Rob, steal, or be law abiding citizens— I don’t care. Just get as much as you can.”

You stifle a soft sob at the rowdiness. The man who was recently talking hears your soft whimper, before sauntering over to where you were located and crouched down in front of you.

“Arthur,” He seems to be calling for one of his men. He looks like he was born from wealth like you were. His clothes are tinted with jewellery and his vest looked like red velvet fur, “Come over here ‘n escort this girl!”

He lends you a hand. He sees the hesitation in those eyes of yours which lead him to a more softer approach.

When his eyes focus onto your face, he squints. He sizes you up and down quickly, the clothing you adorned clearly catching his attention. “Oh, you poor thing.”

Your small hands are held firmly by his as he hoists you up. Burdened with trauma and shock, you could only hear him murmur soft words of encouragement. You see a younger man strolling towards him, only for him to blink in surprise when seeing you.

There was something about him which sparked your interest greatly.

He scratches at his light stubble, barely visible yet. His breath seemed to hitch at the first sight of you.

“Can she talk?”

The other man who holds you closely scoffs, “‘Course she can. She’s just shocked.”

“Huh. Okay. What do we do with her?”

The man looks at you, “Hm. What’s your name, miss?”

You sniffle a bit, shakily replying with a meek babble of your name.

“Lovely to meet you, my dear. Dutch. Dutch Van Der Linde.” He squeezes your shoulder a bit, “Where were you last heading to before.. all of this?”

“Ch— Chicago,” You stutter, either from the cold or from the scene which unfolded beneath your very eyes.

“Damn.. That’s a long way away.” The man who eyed you with interest mumbles, not taking his kind eyes away from you.

You stare back of course.

Some sort of spark in you flared up.

He could feel it too.

“We ought to take her back to camp. She doesn’t seem like she’s in good condition.” Dutch makes you step forward out to Arthur, who grabs you and hoists you in his arms and to his horse, a soft grumble of annoyance escaping his lips, before murmuring a low ‘up you go, girl.’

“When she’s settled enough, we’ll ride ‘er to Chicago. We’re headin’ north aren’t we?”

“Indeed we are.”

“Not much of a problem, then.”

You needily paw at him before he could settle you on the large saddle of his horse, “W-wait but my luggages..”

He quirks a brow at you, “What about it?”

You meekly look around, stammering. “I need it. ‘s— ‘s important, I just—”

He cuts you off, “Where is it?”

You gesture to the carriage from afar. You watch his built figure stroll down thataway to retrieve them. You’re still surprised that the bandits from earlier didn’t manage to spot it. But nevertheless, you profusely thanked him before he left to go grab it from the boot.

You watch Dutch’s other men grab your old driver’s body and sling it on the back of their horse, probably to bury it somewhere. You deeply thank them in your mind, only for a chuckle to interrupt your thoughts.

“The boy’s smitten, Hosea! Look at ‘im,” The man who found you nudged an older looking man’s shoulder, pointing to his bulky figure which held onto your absurdly large luggages, “Never did that with any of the other men we saved. Didn’t even protest when I said that we’re bringing her back to camp.”

Dutch titters to you with that beautiful stallion of his. You couldn’t help but envy at how gorgeous that mane was. You remember back home your horses were used for training and educating rather than for show. “You’ll be staying with us for a while until we can get you on your feet again.”

You slowly nod, sniffling a bit. You rub your arms for comfort, hoping that they won’t do anything funny to you, “Th—thank you..”

Hosea— if you recalled, only looked at you with eyes as warm as the fireplace back home. He pitied you too, but in a sense that wasn’t belittling like how Dutch pitied you.

Arthur grunts as he heaves the luggages on the back of his horse, securing it with some rope to not make it fall. He mounts from the left and settles behind you, before kicking his spurs gently which makes his horse start walking in a slow pace.

A comforting hand is placed on your shoulder. He leans in a bit and murmurs, “You’re safe with us.”

You wonder if your family would condemn you for riding with a man you're not acquainted with.

You also wonder if they'd punish you by ostracism if they caught you riding with a group of outlaws.

The loud thunks of the horse's feet galloping through the snow was a sound you've heard before but not from this close. Usually, you're situated in a carriage with a dim light and windows, and then the horse at the front. You could listen to the soft tittering of the horses from inside. When you're walking down the street with your brother, you could also hear the horses gaits on carriages pass by.

The thick, southern drawl of an accent is also another thing you can hear. A vast difference between the usual whisper of educated, middle class accents within the streets. The men who rescued you are quietly conversing between one another. You're curious, but you feel as though your eyes will close as soon as you try to bother.

The young outlaw behind you catches onto your sleepy behaviour, a low wisp of that southern drawl is heard yet again but far more closely.

"Y'alright, miss?"

You stiffen a quiet sniffle. You want to go back home. But then again, you're glad that you aren't back home. You miss the feeling of comfort, the soft yet creaky beds, the dim chandelier which radiated such a warm light. A rush of emotion comes over your demure figure, and you can't help that sniffle which is emits through the cold air.

You don't answer. The silence is what confirmed his question. Your sniffles, more-so.

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, before gently pulling your form back to his broad chest. A quiet sign that you were welcome to take a little rest on him for the rest of the ride.

You sniffle once more, before a murmur of a little 'thank you' is etched out of your dry throat. You flutter those long lashes of yours shut, before taking a snooze on him.

[dear-reider]

Is it too late to get mine😫?

[mydaylight]

Carrie Coon and Morgan Spector as BERTHA AND GEORGE RUSSELL

THE GILDED AGE (2022- ) | 1.01 "Never the New"

[strawberrysoapeater3]

You can't say John Marston on Roblox so now I can't tell my friend that I have John on a string as a good luck charm☹️

[roamingtigress]

R* should have left in crying!Dutch at the end of Chapter 6 (we see tears at the scene where he realizes what he's done but a full breakdown scene would just be so impactful. Yes it would be another sad scene for the sad cowboys game Ben Davis would have poured his heart and soul into that scene.

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

I need to find a way to create a freaking OC for a character that's played by Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

I FUCKING NEED HIM WITH AN OC, BECAUSE THIS MAN AND THAT SHIT-EATING GRIN OF HIS ARE CAUSING ME RESTLESSNESS OF THE SOUL.

[mercurial-chuckles]

Sappy Sunday Thought!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warnings: Sap | Overloaded fluff | Language | Bucky being such a little shit Word Count: ~500 A/N: My hubby and I went to a friend's house for dinner. They have a three-year-old boy who is absolutely adorable. When I knelt down to greet him with our usual high-five and fist bump, he blushed and shyly looked away. They told me the little guy has a massive crush on me! He talks about me all day, asking when I'll come over and waiting eagerly. My poor heart! 😍💕🥹🫠 Even on his dad's birthday recently, he apparently asked when my birthday was. It completely melted my heart. So darn cute! Not to mention, my hubby playfully glared at him and told him he couldn't marry me because I belong to him. The poor kid almost cried, and it took both me and his parents to pacify him afterward! The whole ordeal sparked a little blurb idea for me! 💕🤭 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! GIF credits to @upcomingactress Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist

If you wanna read more, here's a follow-up: Bucky Barnes vs Ethan Stark

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

"Stop it, Bucky," you warned, pulling the tiny form of Ethan away from your husband's arms.

"Hey," Bucky snickered, swatting your arm away from the kid playfully.

"NO. NO," Ethan yelled, clinging tightly to your knee, making everyone around you laugh.

"Oh, now you're just being mean, boy. Leave her alone. She's mine," Bucky said, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

"MAMAAAA!" Ethan shouted, his voice surprisingly loud for a three-year-old.

"It's okay, baby. Uncle Bucky is only joking," Pepper cooed from the other end of the living room, gently fixing Morgan's hair.

"Yes, Ethan, Uncle Bucky's just having fun. Right, Bucky?" you asked, throwing a warning glance his way. All your husband did was shrug and flash you a bright smile.

"No, I'm not. You can't have her, Ethan. That's that," Bucky whispered, further aggravating Ethan's plight. You responded with a not-so-light punch to his right bicep, but he only chuckled, leaning closer to kiss your cheek.

Ethan was on the verge of wailing, so you turned, picked him up, and sat him on your other side. Tony approached, leaning down to meet his son's eyes.

"You've got no chill, Bucky," you muttered over your shoulder.

"Tell you what," Tony began, drawing Ethan's attention. "We can always get Beebee to fight Uncle Bucky and keep her with us," he said. Ethan instantly brightened and looked to you for confirmation.

"Sounds good to me," you whispered to Ethan, earning an enthusiastic fist bump from the now-happy toddler.

"Now, who in the world is Beebee, Stark?" Bucky asked, frowning.

"Let's not tell him, yeah?" Tony replied, winking at Ethan as he lifted him into his arms. "Keep watching over your shoulder, buddy," Tony added, walking away.

"Buddy, Beebee's comin'," Ethan echoed over Tony's shoulder in his adorable little voice.

You turned to Bucky, giggling at his half-exasperated, half-stunned expression.

"Seriously? I can't have you roaming outside our home with a STARK-LEVEL PROBLEM," Bucky groaned, emphasizing the last part as he shouted after Tony and Ethan.

Leaning in, Bucky pecked your lips and whispered, "What the fuck is Beebee?"

"It's the giant bot Tony's been working on," you replied.

Bucky rolled his eyes, scoffing at the idea of a massive robot chasing him off just so Tony's son could kidnap you.

"I'd like to see it try," he muttered.

If you wanna read more, here's a follow-up: Bucky Barnes vs Ethan Stark

This is a part of ♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

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[ssahotchnerr]

Aaron’s wife getting drunk on spiked egg nog at a party with the rest of the BAU and she’s just all over Aaron. Kissing every part of his face and pinching his cheeks, she even tells the rest of the team cute stuff he does for her and being like “isn’t he the bestest hubby ever?!” Aaron’s just in the corner blushing lol

lovestruck and eggnog

!!!!!!!!!!!<3333 cw; fem!reader, reader is intoxicated, mentions of drinking, fluff, small allusions to sex/praise

in the midst of the party, you made your way back to aaron. he's been seated in the same spot for a while - exactly where you had been with him an hour ago - but still, his presence surprised you, your few glasses of spiked eggnog all to thank.

you promptly dropped yourself onto his lap, absolutely buzzing. your voice was on the sing-song side, your words slurring together the smallest amount. "hi handsome."

"hi honey," aaron chuckled quietly, amusingly wrapping an arm securely around your waist. his eyes scanned you, quick to notice your current state. "having fun?"

"a ton." you nodded giddily, "especially now, now that i'm with you." you reached past him, grabbing the santa hat perched atop derek's head - "hey!" - and sloppily onto aaron's, rather lopsidedly at that.

a giggle erupted from you, "look how cute you look!" you turned to derek, wrapping your arms loosely around aaron's neck. you squeezed him softly, causing your cheek to come flush with his. "isn't he so cute?"

derek snorted faintly, covering it up by bringing his drink to his lips. "he's a stunner, for sure."

aaron subtly glared at morgan, while you continued. "i love you, just so much." you placed a kiss on his cheek. and then another. and then another.

aaron laughed gently as his hands sprawled across the span of your back, holding you close - and steadily - to him. the more you littered kisses across his skin, the more his cheeks flushed, "what're you doing?"

"loving on you silly." you gave him an almost offended look, before your face returned to that soft, lovey-dovey expression. "because i love you. and i love being your wife." you took his face in your hands, planting a kiss onto his lips. "i love that i get to do this wheneverrr i want."

quick to reciprocate, but more reservedly in view of his colleagues, aaron gave you one more, small peck, "i love you too darling."

"you're perfect." your focus went back to derek, as emily and penelope joined the three of you as well. "he's perfect. wanna know what perfect things he does?"

"don't hold back on us," emily egged you on completely, at the playful expense of aaron - she shot him thoroughly entertained look.

"he gives me soo many back rubs, especially if i have a bad day. he leaves me sticky notes everywhere. on my coffee mug, on the bathroom mirror, on my pillow if he leaves early. i find a ton when you're all gone on a case, i don't even know how he does it." your nose scrunched a tad, befuddlement in your voice. "must be magic."

"and what do these notes say?" penelope asked eagerly, as if she's been waiting forever to hear details when it comes to a certain boss. (to be fair, she has.) (more often than not, you've spared them the specifics just as much as aaron.)

a wickedness came forth in your eyes, your lips pulling into a smirk. your hand found the back of aaron's neck, your fingers brushing through the nape of his hair. "he left me one yesterday that said he'd like to-"

"okay." aaron interrupted, kissing the spot of skin behind your ear and halting your words. "sweetheart, if you continue, i'll never hear the end of it."

you complied, but just for a second. "he's just so cute." you cheesed, pinching his cheek gently. despite the fact you were very much inebriated, you were well aware enough to not actually hurt him. "he's all i want for christmas." after your statement, your smirk quickly resurfaced, your current no-filter flowing freely. "i've been a good girl, haven't i, aaron?"

another snort exited a wide-eyed derek, and you missed the others' very taken aback reaction as your gaze shifted to aaron, whose blush was prominent as ever.

"what?" you pouted softly, confusion arising on your face.

a mix between a sigh and a breathless laugh left aaron through his nose, affectionately patting your hip and transferring the santa hat onto your head, "i think that's enough eggnog for you tonight."

[johnpriceslamb]

— 𝓕𝓔𝓑𝓡𝓤𝓐𝓡𝓨

Soft murmurings of gossip rises within the Van Der Linde gang about the close relationship of the enforcer and the ex-noble.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 : age gap . fem ! reader . afab ! reader . hyper feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than chars mentioned in story . reader is in early 20’s . arthur is in late 20’s - early 30’s . crybbie reader snifle . traditional gender stereotypes heavily mentioned . tis short chapter ^_____^

The sun casts is warm rays across the expanse of the campsite, shrouding the trees in a soft glow. The soft murmurs of the people amongst the camp blends with the rustling of leaves and a gentle breeze carries the scent of a strange concoction of multiple animal meat and vegetables boiled down into a stew.

It’s been a week since you’ve stayed with the Van Der Linde gang.

You heave a bucket load of laundry onto the curve of your hip before sauntering to the place with a thick line roped around two trees which conveniently is placed where sun shines the most. The luxury you experienced back in ‘Denis was something you wish you never missed but the ultimate reality comes to clunk you gently on the head. Never hardly, because you couldn’t ever do harsh. The epitome of softness, you are.

Your feet ache from the weeks load of walking and helping with chores but alas, you could not just sit down and sniffle about your incident involving the man who lead the carriage to Chicago. You ponder at the thought if your father was still waiting for you, almost bouncing on his feet once he tells the boy he found as a partner for you to get on his knee and serve that dainty little ring on your left hand.

You tighten your grip on the wet fabric your hands enclosed on before spreading out the clothing on the line and clipped the ends with it with two half-broken pegs.

You’d rather be cooped up in a gang filled with outlaws than be married off to a man who could not even wash himself properly. You remember begging Dutch a day ago or so on your knees, dirtying your sweet little dress in the process, hands clasped together tightly as you cried out for him to let you stay.

He had a soft spot for pretty girls, and an even more softer spot for girls who keened at him like a needy puppy.

His warm hand combs through your hair as you sniffled upon his lap, beady eyes coming to stare at him through glossy tears. Your long lashes fluttered at the slight irritation, and the leader of the gang watches those fat globes of tears run down your cherub-like cheek.

From then on, you’ve received the embarrassingly sweet title of ‘Princess’. Suited for you. A pretty noble. Spoiled.

You knew life which held privilege unlike most of the camp members here. You pitied the people who told stories about their experiences of living around the campfire, noting yourself to bring a handkerchief for the next campfire session. A sense of envy was evident around the girls you slept next to, understandably so. However, they loved you like a sister, teasingly taunting you with your sweetest nickname as you giggle shyly at their prodding.

You shake your head lightly, lower lip lightly poking out at your distracting thoughts before finishing up with the laundry.

A soft crunch of leaves under a pair of boots, matched with a soft jingle of spurs to pair up with the evident way the loyal enforcer of the gang creeps up to you with a lazy stance. Your smile is light as you turn yourself to face him.

“Hey, princess.” Him too? Thats… Great.

Your cheeks feel warm at that silly title, “Good morning, Arthur.”

He takes the empty basket from you and you feel your heart soften just a bit at his kind gesture. Each time you look at him, you feel a slight spark between you both.

“Grimshaw been keepin’ you busy?” He looks at the long line of clothes, before that slightly boyish grin etches on his mature face.

You sigh, fiddling with your delicate cuffs, “Undeniably so. The soles of my feet ache from the amount of chores I do.” Now you understand why the maids from your manor would lightly stretch their legs before working around the interior.

He looks at you with concern, “Y’alright? Y’need anythin’?”

You shake your head politely, walking beside him slowly. “No, but thank you for your service.”

He looks down at your petite figure. You barely reached his shoulder, “Hm. If y’need anythin’, just call f’ me.” A hand comes to gently guide the small part of your back to avoid any sticks or sharp edges on the forest grounds.

“I.. I appreciate your kindness a lot.”

And he looks at you again. A shy smile.

“Any time.”

You walk with him across camp to place the basket with the other woven stacked baskets. Then, he turns towards you with a sheepish expression.

“‘M uh, ‘m gonna be ridin’ with the guys in a few minutes. I’ll be goin’ to town..” He clears his throat, “Anythin’ you want me to get f’ you?” His eyes dart to the simple little necklace you wore. He looks at your face again quickly.

You feel your cheeks becoming warm again, before shyly looking around, “Oh! Um.. I-.. Please, don’t waste your money on me.”

“It ain’t wastin’ if its ‘bout you.” He states.

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

You ponder. Perhaps a proper needle and thread to sow that stubborn little hole which keeps falling apart no matter the needle you used. It’s that damn thread you have to work with, which is probably older than Hosea himself.

“If you could just buy a small amount of thread for me, that would be lovely. If you can’t find any, I don’t mind at all.”

“Right got it. Jus’ some thread? Don—”

The bellowing voice of that lanky late teen whom you remembered his name was John comes huffing out. Wheat between his mouth, and a furrowed look on his scruffy long face, “Arthur! Stop talkin’ to your girlfriend ‘n come on! We’re all waitin’ for you.”

“Pipe down, Marston. Gimme a sec,” Arthur grumbles lowly, before his hands come to hold onto his heavy belt around his waist. You almost hiss at the sound of that new title coming out of his mouth, feeling your insides burning up from fluster.

“A-Alright. I’ll see you then?” He asks, almost shyly.

You wave at him as he backs up to leave, “Bye, please travel safely.”

He nods his head before sauntering off. You watch him saddle up on that beautiful mare of his that he proudly called Boadicea and rode off with the rest of the men to rob.. Or something. You’re not really sure what they do, turning a blind eye and kept on with the chores among the campsite.

A slight nudge is felt by your side, you yelped at the sudden appearances of the other girls when you turned your head around. Karen stands beside you with a slight smirk.

“What in the world was that?” Tilly pipes up, looking at you with a smile adorning her delicate features.

You look around and peer at a tree, glancing at the ground to see multiple footprints. With that in mind, you realised the three girls were all stalking you and Arthur’s conversation.

Stammering, you pat your hands down your dress and cross your arms in front of your chest, swaying side to side and looking away to avoid eye contact with any of them. They giggle at the fact that your cheeks turn into a darker colour, “I— What do you mean?”

“Bye, please travel safely~” Karen mimics you, her pitch much higher than before with a slight drawl of poshness added to it to make you even more flustered.

“Thats not funny!” You hiss at them, before they all erupt with laughter you’ve never been acquainted to. Warm, sweet, and most importantly..

Comforting.

Your nimble hands fiddle with the ends of your frilled-tipped dress. A week since you’ve been gone from home, and won’t return until then. A week. You’ve used up all of your delicate fabrics, picky about wearing the same clothing everyday. They may call you prissy and overly prim for it, but you would quite literally rather die than be cooped up in clothes which stick to your skin from sweat and body odour from not showering nor changing.

Thus, the frequent fussing of your laundry. You’ve ought to buy another dress or so with the pocket money you stored in one of the thin pockets of your dress. Until then, you’ll have to deal with the feeling of your palms becoming more wrinkly from the many times you’ve dipped it in water.

Your thoughts are disrupted when Marybeth sits quite close to you, a shy demeanour etched within her figure. Sheepish, almost.

“Hi, princess.” She greets you with a light smile.

You smile back, feeling comfortable around the woman. She shared similar thoughts with you upon any topic you sigh about, and the same adoration for romance novels.

“Hello, Marybeth. Can I help you with anything?” You greet back, delicate hands placed on your lap.

She lightens up immediately, softly stumbling on her words, “Oh! R-right, I was just wonderin’.. well.. er,”

“—Lemme start from the beginning.” She searches for something behind her, which was stored with the other girls stuff. She grabs a book, flipping to a few pages before showing you an illustrated picture of what seemed to be the main character in the novel she held onto.

“‘S called.. Lorna Doone by RD Blackmore! A story between two star-crossed lovers.. That woman,” She points to the picture with her thin finger, “Shes the love interest of this man here,” She flips to a page of the illustration of the man.

“The man’s father was a farmer who got murdered by this clan called the Doones. Actually, if I recall.. The Doones were actually nobles but turned to outlaws. ‘N guess what? He falls in love with her, who turns out to be in this clan!” She explains with excitement, holding the novel close to her chest with a dreamy sigh.

You flutter your precious lashes a few times, before giggling lightly at her enthusiasm, unconsciously telling her to keep going with her ramblings with a light nod.

She then adds, “Right, look.. I know this is a bit silly of me to ask but..” She shyly looks at you with an upturned smile, “Could y’ maybe.. put a bit of makeup on my face? Y’know, to match with her looks?” She gestures to the illustration of Lorna drawn onto the page.

“I reaaaally admire her, ‘n’.. You get the jist right?”

You light up. Of course, shes seen you put a light bit of makeup on your face sometimes just to feel a bit prettier and pass time. In fact, you were wearing a little bit right now!

“Hmm..” You look at the picture, before glancing back at her.

“I can do that.”

“Oh!” She cheers, pulling you into a tight hug, “Thank you, princess. You’re the best!”

You giggle again at her soft squeals, before hugging the girl back with the same intensity. You saunter away for a bit to grab your small pouch of makeup products. Once you come back, you perch yourself on your knees in front of her form and politely asks her to close her eyes.

She does so immediately, watching her lashes flutter down and meet her cheeks.

You grab your small tin of home-made cream, screwing the lid off and using your finger nail to whip a dollop and gently place it on her freckle-kissed skin with a sweet hum. Your fingers rub into her face until the cream disappears and forms a very thin barrier of blurring any pores on her face.

You peer at the illustration again for a bit. It wasn’t difficult to replicate. Lorna’s lips were so prettily placed with a red stained lipstick, and her cheeks blossom touched with blush.

Your fingers clasp onto another small container, this time filled with powder grounded from rice. You’ve heard that some cosmetic manufacturing stores sold powders with arsenic and lead which drastically reduced safety in women’s skin, but in a magazine you’ve read, some women used grounded up rice powder to hide any blemishes on their skin.

With the lightest dip of a cushion, you apply the fine-rice powder onto her skin.

She hums at the smell, peaking at your nimble hand which was encased with a little cushion, “Smells kinda nice.”

“Hm.. Kinda does,” You mumble in response, lightly smiling at her pretty complexion. Finally, you reach for a thin bottle of lipstick, rubbing the tip first to get rid of the previous use you had for it and applying it with another finger, before gently dapping it on her thin lips.

Finally, you move on to the final step. Blush!

Grabbing your last makeup product from your little pouch, you use the same cushion you used for your powder, but on the other side. You dip it into the pink substance before applying it on the apples of her cheeks.

Once you were finished and packed your supplies back into your little bag, you excitedly show her face with your little floral emblemed pocket mirror, “Tada!”

She fawns over herself, lightly touching her skin. Your little tinkering and handiworks has made her feelings for her beauty burst into stars of light.

“Not much of a difference, but I applied a bit more blush on your cheeks to emphasise it. At the end of the day, y’can just wash your face with some warm water ‘n’ a bar of clean soap.” You mention, before she nods.

“Thank you, princess! Why, I ought to show the other girls!” She happily smiles, before hitching her magenta skirt lightly and tittering off to find the other ladies her new look. Her excitement bounces off the lonesome camp, but it feels like it’s bustling with energy from the other women around. A much different place when the men were gone.

“Well I’ll be,” That southern drawl catches your attention as the man you were closest to amongst this group approaches from behind. You turn, smile drawn onto your demure features as you stand up from your spot and saunter closer.

“Looks like you ‘n Marybeth were having a good time.” He crosses his arms and relies on the soles of his feet to keep him standing, peering at you.

“When did you arrive?” You question, sizing him up and down a few times to see if he sustained any injuries.

“Just a few moments ago.” You didn’t even hear the sounds of Boadicea’s footsteps clacking on the rough grounds. Just how skilled was he when it came to horseback?

Then, he reaches to his pocket and grabs the thread you asked for. You lightly gasp and profusely thanked him.

Your hands enclasped around his and picked the string from his palm.

His heart flutters lightly at the quick touch, breath hitching in his chest as he takes a step back.

“I can finally sow that little pest of a hole in my dress now! Thank you, Arthur. I really appreciate it.”

He grunts, clearing his throat before looking away. “‘S all good.”

You place it in one of your pockets, “How can I repay you?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He gently chimes, the rim of his hat tipped lightly down. You puff your cheeks at his nonchalantness, trying to poke and prod at him to waver a bit on repaying him. But of course, he stood firm on his decision and doesn’t budge.

“..Please?” Cue your big beady eyes staring up at him.

“M-m.”

“…Why not.”

“Cuz it don’t matter. ‘S just string.”

“But.. it must’ve been a bit expensive.”

“Princess. ‘S string.”

“Please.”

“Nope.”

“Arthur!” You whine lightly.

“Princess.” He hums in response, before placing his hand on your waist and guiding you to where food is served in a large pot.

“C’mon, lets eat.” Somehow, you forget everything he’s said because of how gently he treated you.

From the other side of camp…

Tilly, Marybeth with her newly applied makeup- smudged a bit from unconsciously itching her face, and a Karen watches the two. Javier— curiously grouping with them.

“…Chicas, what are we staring at?”

“Shhh. We’re lookin’ at plot development.”

[bedouinpoet]

A picture is worth a thousand words

Aaron Hotchner x (photographer) reader

Warning: 18+ only please, SMUT, mentions of torture and murder, emotional trauma.

I hope you all enjoy, may not be my best work but been super sick 🤒 all month and just saw this as a cute idea. Another three part Aaron Hotchner story coming soon my lovelies!

…

You’ve been a PI for over two years and ironically a professional photographer for 5. You got into the detective business by accident really.

5 years before

“Hi! Mrs. Barrows? So sorry for the wait I was just setting up…is Mr Barrows here?” You notice the sadness in her eyes, and the tears you notice swelling in her eyes that made you want to bring her in a hug

“is…is everything alright?”

With that final question her tears ran

“he’s cheating on me”

Oh gosh this is gonna be a domestic “urm did you…is there something I can do?”

She shook her head, her face slightly aged but her beauty never wavering, elegant, fuck her husband, he is missing out.

“Hey ya know what, let me take some pics you’re already dressed and have everything.”

After some persuasion you noticed her confidence building while the session continued and it made your day when her laugh came out at the perfect moment. By the end she received an unexpected text. Apparently her husband was held up at the station (cop). Mhmmm right. Oldest excuse in the book but you keep your mouth shut however apparently your face shows more then you thought

“you don’t believe him?”

you really need to learn to control your facial expressions sometimes

“that’s not my place to say”

“but you think it….i do too I just…I don’t know, we have been married for 26 years I can’t believe it but I also need to know…” like a light bulb in her eyes you could almost read her thought “would you be willing to…if I hired you, would you be willing to…follow him, take pictures…just to see if he is really having an affair I’m willing to pay…”

“like…a PI?” “Please”

….

present day.

Turned out her hubby really was just a cheating ass and you were able to get her the proof she needed to believe it and leave…Thanks to her you found your calling…well second calling as a private detective. And a damn good one you became known as the cold case queen. Solving 15 cold cases in your last two years and assisting the police department in on-going investigations. Yet despite that you never would have expected the FBI to be knocking on your door. Especially in the middle of a photography session with a middle aged couple in a rather riské position.

”ahem..excuse me Miss Y/l/n-“

”y/n will be just fine no last name needed what can I do for you agent?”

“Agent Hotchner of the behaviour analysis Unit, this is Dr Reid and Agent Morgan… we were-um” you look back at a rather flustered Agent Hotchner and you can’t help smirk at the hottest man you’ve ever seen flustered and damn did it turn you on. “You were what agent? It’s alright I can talk and work at the same time Mr and Mrs Auburn don’t mind do you?” They both merely smile and laugh.

He clears his throat “right well we actually are assisting in the investigation of nine murdered woman in the last two years and we’ve been told that you are investigating a murder of a Tabatha Burns she-“

It’s like you can see Mrs Burns like it was yesterday, crying in your arms at the murder of her daughter a year ago, police marked it a cold case but she never stopped looking

”yes I know. It’s my only open case At the moment, her mother hired me a few months ago….you think it’s connected to your nine?”

”yes she fits the victimology and according to her mother the victim..”

“Tabatha….her name is Tabatha, she’s dead doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve her own identity-“

you take a deep breath trying to hold the attitude in, scared that you just offended the skinny one they call Dr Reid. He merely smiles understandably as you notice agent’s eyes looking into your soul, like he’s trying to study you like a book…and you start to wonder how much he can read. Hotchner speaks for Reid

“of course…according to Tabitha’s mother she was running her usual route but never came back”

“yes I went the route to see the most likely places she could have been attacked-“

“and?”

“Well it was during midday so there were others around most of the route but she turns into the woods half way through. Rough ground, and extremely annoying for those of you, like my fine self, who don’t run unless I’m chasing or being chased I was winded barely half way there-“

you notice the model of a man agent Derek laugh and Dr Reid holding in one. But your attention remained on the dark haired stud whose eyes remained serious even as you notice a smirk pulling at his mouth against his better judgement….mmm what I would do for those lips on- you shake off the wetness pooling between your legs as you continue

“anyway you’d need to know the area and be patient, as well as physically fit to keep up with Tabatha, find your way around, AND knock her out and take her to a second location without ever being noticed and not having a single witness…”

You could feast on those impressed looks these agents are giving you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t boost your ego and confidence. You continued and let them know everything you had…

”thank you Mis- I mean y/n this has been greatly helpful and appreciated, if you can think of anything else or find any more information please give me a personal call here’s my number-“ Hotchner hands you the card and his callused fingers lightly graze against your hand and it feels like a flame in the midst of a blizzard.

His gaze never wavering from you, remaining moments longer as the rest turn away. As he turns away however it’s like you want to stay in Hotchner’s presence a little longer. “Um actually agent Hotchner-“

“please Hotch is fine” you smile at the opportunity to get closer to this man and his warmth…

”thanks…well um Hotch…I wanted to ask…if you do find whoever did this. This unsub you call it? Let me be the one to tell Tabathas mother? She has gone through so much and I’ve made her a promise I will do everything in my power to give her some justice… she deserves to hear it all from a friend….we both know its gonna get uglier before he makes a mistake and you find him and…she doesn’t even know everything he did to Tab…I know its not how things are done in the FBI and protocol and whatever but i’d consider it a huge favour if-“

he grabs your hand and it stops your rambling in your tracks as he gently rubs your hand with his thumb…”I understand….I will call you personally and I’ll make sure to tell the officers”

you smile gratefully and notice his hands remained in yours and your heart beats so loud you could hear it in your ears and you pray he can’t hear it. Little did you know his heart was beating just as hard and his cock twitched as you gave him that pleading look in your eyes wanting to stare at them forever. But Derek pries him away and he desperately wishes everything could stop for a moment so he could have his way.

….

The case went just as you said…a fuck ton uglier before Hotchner and his BAU team found the unsub…a Richard Prine….while he was torturing a young woman that you swear could be Tabatha’s sister. You didn’t even know until Hotch texted you

Aaron ‘the hunk’ Hotchner: We found him. Would you like me to meet you to tell you everything?

Y/N: :( I would prefer you coming over for better reasons ;) but yes you can come to my apartment if that’s alright I’m just doing some work at home.?

you send him your address and within the hour Aaron Hotchner is at your door and damn do you almost swoon at his loosed tie unbuttoned at the top and no suite jacket….but he looks so tired, so worn….its worse then you thought.

“Come in”

You move aside and smell a note of his intoxicating cologne

“please sit…would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

”water’s just fine thanks”

You get both of you some iced water and you sit bracing yourself for whatever he has to say. You dig your feet into the carpet and fidget with the rings on your finger

“his name was Richard Prine ….”

You tried not to throw up as Hotch tells you everything. By the end your head feels like its gonna explode

“fuck….I’m gonna have to tell Tabs mother, how am I gonna tell her-“ you rub your eyes from complete exhaustion and walk to your espresso machine if your gonna do this you need something to keep you going “want one?”

“Sure….when will you go to Mrs Burns?”

his eyes remain on you searching, reading,

“After I chug this down-“

”would…would you like me to go with you? After all I still owe you that photo shoot for sharing all your information you had on the case We can go there straight after and have the night…we leave for Quantico tomorrow afternoon” you almost forgot that you made him agree to a photoshoot before handing your files over. You blush and you gratefully nod and you would hug him right now if it didn’t risk you wanting to jump his bones in the desperate need for a distraction and to think of anything but the terrible trauma that you are about to inflict on an already mourning mother.

“Thanks….I’d appreciate the company”

“Of course. I can drive as well if you’d like?”

“Nah it’s ok I enjoy driving helps clear my head but thanks…shall we?” You quickly grab your red leather jacket and let Hotch pass as you lock your door and put the security code, he stares at the extra security you had placed and you’re surprised to see concern in his eyes…

”I had a couple break ins by some rather angry hubbys who’s wives were none too happy to find out about their many lovers…..and vices”

“ah….they didn’t hurt you did they?” You notice Hotch’s hands clench and you are rather touched by the fact this man already cares that much.

“They tried haha but no usually they didn’t get within two steps near me before they get knocked on their asses” he smiles at that almost challenging look in is eyes and for the life of you you can’t figure out what it means but you want to see how far it can be pushed.

The drive was silent on your way to Mrs Burns as your head turns into a storm of words trying to figure out what you are gonna say, what you should say and what should remain unsaid.

“Just tell her the truth….at the end of the day. She deserves to know and I found with the truth at least they won’t question what happened and they can move forward and try and move on” It was like he could read your very thoughts and his words were a comfort to you. He’s right. That’s all she ever asked of you and you can’t back down now.

…

”the truth is Marge…” you look at Hotch’s eyes and he looks at you with such elegant care and you find comfort lost in his brown caramel eyes.

“The truth is Marge….Tab was killed by a man who needed to feel in power and he took it out on Tab….but the truth is Tabatha was a brave, kind hearted girl and she died protecting another girl, she died being kind and that takes so much strength….thats how you should remember it and her Marge. Don’t give that coward any attention cause he doesn’t deserve it. Tab was a hero and that’s all you need to know” you do everything you can to not to break down as Marge breaks down falling to her knees crying and you fall to your knees next to her and hold her, she grasps onto you for dear life you hug her tight and let her cry. All you wanted to do was cry right by her but you keep your eyes locked on Hotch and his eyes are like a hug to your soul supporting you up and keeping you strong and his smile makes you want to kiss that smile and stay there forever you stay firm.

When Marge’s eyes dry you help her sit and make her a tea before you leave. As you go back into the family room handing her the tea Hotch is holding her hand “you have my most heartfelt condolences Mrs Burns and if there is anything I can do please don’t hesitate to call me” he hands her his card and you hand her her tea before “we should probably head out please try to rest Marge and I’ll come by in a couple days to check up” She gives you one last grateful hug and you both leave. The pain in her eyes and her tears staining your shirt and mind.

The ride back was silent and Hotch respected your need to just sit and think. Even on your way up to your studio he respected it and merely comforted you just by being near. He opened every door for you and let you go first. Once you turned on the lights of the studio you felt a relief in your heart. For a few hours the pain can be subsided and distracted by taking pictures of this painfully sexy dark haired, serious FBI agent. As you stare back you almost laugh out loud seeing this usually composed serious man, stand awkwardly in the middle of the room as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself and you feel your dominant side arise. “You can relax handsome we just taking some pictures not rehearsing in front of a crowd. Can you take your tie off and sit down on the sofa….there is a waiver on the table I’d like you to read and sign before we begin.”

“A waver?”

“Yup…basically just saying that we wont do anything you aren’t comfortable with and if at any point you feel uncomfortable you will tell me immediately and we will stop. I usually take pictures of the sexier or kinkier persuasion, so consent is priority. And if you do decide to share my work you give me the credit and etc.”

he reads through the the contract and you smile….yup he was definitely a lawyer…you can practically see him take apart the entire waiver…you set everything up. You’ve been thinking about taking his pictures, how you want him posed, since you’ve met. You look back to see him sign the waiver. “Perfect….so this is where it gets rather intimate so as I said we wont do anything you aren’t comfortable with. If you can sit here” you point to the chair you had set up, the chair is set backwards so his arms and head will rest on the back, his legs spread.

“Um….how do you want me..”

”just sit on it just how it’s facing me…”

His tie is off but his shirt is still buttoned so you go to him as he’s sitting “may I?” You gesture you hands to his shirt and he swallows hard his eyes slightly dilated. “Of course”

“perfect”

you unbutton his top buttons and you keep your hand longer then nessasry on his chest, you coul feel his heart beating through and for a moment you stay like that Hotchs eyes blow black.. you finally pull yourself away and lightly ruffle his hair. “Perfect now I want you to look down at me maybe have your head leaning against your hand.” He does as you say, naturally and it looks just as hot as you imagined….fuck he’s hot deliciously so…you take a few pictures of him in this position, and the more pictures you take you notice Hotch’s inhibitions slowly break away and his comfort levels increasing. “Ok so this next one is a bit more intimate are you on with it? I wanna go for a dominant becoming submissive sorta vibe?” His confusion evident and adorable, absolutely adorable. You smile and take your camera. you stand up close in front of him…he looks up at you sitting in the chair and fuck, seeing him look up at you with those curious dilated innocent eyes makes you want to kiss him until he begs for breath. Or cuff him to that chair and show him how good he can feel. His breath quickens so you try and remain calm and collected. you step even closer feeling his warmth and his breath on your chest. “You are the type of man who is always dominant, always having to be in control. Sometimes guys like you, need to let go. Let go of control and thoughts and just feel. There is a beauty to it and damn can it feel good.” Your breath quickens as you talk and you can see Hotch’s cheeks flush and heat. He swallows hard and his eyes are almost entirely black, no sign of that caramel, you set your camera….this is exactly how you want him but one more touch…you move your hand faster then you think and your hand is on his throat…’s breath hitches and he almost stops breathing like he couldn’t move “is this okay?” You whisper and he swallows, you feel the action under your hands, his pulse, his warmth, his neck in your hands and you feel the warmth and wetness stick to your panties as he meekly nods you keep your hand there and take a picture after picture. Finally, you put down your camera and before you remove your hand he grabs it to keep your hand on his neck and your grip tightens. You stay there for a moment afraid to move and this whole moment falls apart, you move even closer and your grip tightens just enough to partially block his air ways, you look down and notice his hardening under his slacks and you smirk down at him as he swallows and moves himself into your grasp. You don’t think, you don’t consider you just go for it and within the same second your lips come crashing into his and its like fire to your entire body as his hands move through your hair and pulls so you keep your grip on his neck and make him stand up as your tongue finds its way into his mouth needing to taste him more and you feel his equal desperation…

”give me your belt” you whisper into his mouth and he obeys without restraint, unbuckling his belt and taking it off all in one smooth movement. He hands it to you leaning in, desperate for more kisses but you put your hands on his chest and keep him a step away. He damn near whimpers for the need of your warmth and it turns you on to see this man needing you like you’re his only meal.

“Give me your hands Aaron Hotchner” at the sound of his first name he growls and hands you his hands anything to feel your warmth you keep eye contact and put his hands together and tie them slowly without even having to look…this is like muscle memory for you. Once his hands are tied you can see the length of his impressive hard on trying to rip through his slacks and you take his hands and lead him to the couch. you sit him down and he swallows as you keep his tied hands in yours kissing them slowly and sucking his fingers he growls “fuck y/n please”

“please what Aaron? Tell me what you want agent”

“say my name again”

“tsk tsk tsk don’t you know to say please Agent?” You tease

”fuck…please say my name y/n please”

“mmm Aaron tell me what you want”

he moans just at the sound of his name through your lips and you can feel him trying to grab you with his tied hands but you don’t give him the chance you swiftly move his hands on top of his head and sit on his lap the feeling of his bulge under you, between your legs makes you moan his name as you slowly grind on his lap his eyes rolling back and he almost fights your grip but you tighten your grip on his arms and kiss his neck, biting his neck and nibbling his ears. His moans and growls intoxicating. “Keep your arms up or I get off your lap understand?” He moans and nods “yes” he whispers out of breath. “Yes I understand”

You leg go of his arms and he obeys and keeps his arms up, his gaze never leaving you as you unbuckle his pants and- he hisses at your touch as you pump his bare hard cock “fuck y/n baby fuck yes please fuck” you keep pumping him faster and harder as you grind on his lap and pump, kissing his lips, his tongue attacking yours like a war you don’t want to end. “I said use yours words Aaron what do you want sir? Tell me how you want me” his eyes darken and you can swear he looks at you like prey even as you’re on top of him and he is the one tied up. You are still his prey. “Please….i want to be in you. I need you” you swallow hard at the words as you get off his lap just fast enough to take off your pants and before you can react his tied hands are grabbing you back into him and you don’t even fight it you lift your self up on his lap and at first just put the tip in, fuck this mans impressive even his tip starts to stretch you and you love the needy growls and moans as you tease him further…he smiles as he wipes that smirk from your face by grabbing your shirt and pushing you all the way down his length and you scream out in ecstasy and delicious pain “fuck Aaron!”

“Mmmm” He moans your name over and over as you ride him like a race and you feel your coil almost snap but you keep going you want him to cum first you want to feel his cock twitch and release

“fu-fuck baby I’m -fuck I’m gonna cum” he breathlessly moans into your mouth

“cum Aaron…please cum in me you have full permission” his eyes roll back as you grab his neck and ride him even faster and with his full length inside you he screams your name as you feel his cock twitch inside you and the feeling of his release forces you over the edge and you clench his cock milking every drop of his cum inside you. You stay there breathlessly on his lap just leaning into his forehead “definitely the best photshoot I’ve ever done” you giggle and he laughs “this is my first and definitely the best photshoot I’ve ever been involved in.” You laugh into each other and you start to untie his hands still on his lap….and as you look at him you start to remember one unfortunate fact….this man that just lit your entire body on fire is leaving in the morning and as if he can read your thoughts again he says “if you don’t have any other plans tonight…would you want to spend it together?” You find it adorable as if you could ever say no to such an offer, you smile “of course I would. I thought you’d never ask…and it just so happens I have an appartment on top of this studio….ready and waiting for a night of movies and dinner and a whole lot more of what we just did if I’m lucky” you wink as he laughs and its like music to your ears “sounds incredible” you take his hand and lead him up stairs….you have no idea what will come between the two of you but you are gonna appreciate this night as much as you possibly can and save that smile of his, in your mind forever.

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Kidnapping

Spencer and the gang are called in for a case. Morgan and J.J are the last to enter Garcia’s office.

“Brief us baby girl” Morgan said as he sat down beside Reid.

“Right well, this girl was held at gunpoint” Penelope put up the girl's picture on the screen. “But then someone tried to defuse the situation when the gunman, now a kidnapper, took her, no reason as to why, and the reason we’re involved is because the kidnapper is our unsub,” Penelope finished.

“She’s pretty,” Morgan said. “Spencer what do you think” Morgan nugged Spence. Today Spencer was deep in thought; he was thinking of multiple different ideas permitting from one single thought.

How would I go about this

“Spence”

“Mmhm su-” He raised his head and looked at the screen and all colour drained from his face. Spencer took out his phone and started to dial. ”Something you’d like to share with the class Spencer?” Morgan asked but Spencer ignored him. The phone went off to voicemail.

“Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit” Spencer dialled again yet was only greeted with the same voicemail.

Hey its y/n i might be a little busy so either leave a message or call back later alright

The gang was stunned. Spencer never swore.

“Spencer, Spencer finally looked at Morgan, his eyes wide.

“That is my, that’s y/n she’s my girlfriend, I-” Spencer started to speak an entirely different language.

“Spencer we’ll find her” Hotch said, he’d never seen Reid like this.

Spencer’s phone starts ringing and it’s y/n. He immediately answers it and puts it on speaker. He sets it down on the table as he tries to calm himself down.

“Y/-” But he’s cut off by a man’s voice.

“SHUT UP I’M TALKING TO SOMEONE WHO MIGHT SAVE YOUR BITCH ASS LIFE” there’s a loud smack and someone shouts.

“UNTIE ME ASSHOLE AND LET’S SEE WHO'S THE BITCH HE-” Y/n is cut off by her kidnapper stuffing cloth in her mouth.

The team was shocked at what y/n said because most people would be a mess if they were kidnapped by y/n seemed not only agitated but in the right state of mind.

“Who is this?” Spencer demands his voice so sharp that Derek has to do a double take. “And what did you just do”

“Someone who has your wife at gunpoint” Morgan glances at Hotch. Wife? ”What I did to her, I just shut her up”

“What do you want” Spencer sounded calm but to his teammates, his erratic eye movement, how he keeps clenching and unclenching his fingers and how he briefly pulls his hair before going back to clenching his fingers.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this you know” the kidnapper completely ignored Spencer’s question. “It was a simple robbery, all she had to do was gimme her wallet, but nooo this little bitch had something to say” the kidnapper pulls y/n hair making her scream into the gag.

“AND I STILL HAVE SOMET-” another smack could be heard.

“Stop hitting her” Spencer could feel his self control slipping

“Oh don’t worry hubby she’s out cold, now I’m going to make her pay for her rudeness”

“Why did you call me,”

“To know if the contact name Hubby served what i think it does”

“And what do you think it serves”

“The person who’s going to bury this bitch” the kidnapper hangs up and Spencer all but reaches for his phone to toss it.

“What’s our game plan?” Penelope asks.

“Well,” Morgan starts. “I think Spence should start,”

Spencer looks at them, he sighs before he speaks.

“Y/n L/n is my girlfriend but technically by Las Vegas laws we're married”

Derek starts. “You had a girlfriend-wife and you never told us” Spencer keeps his eyes on the phone in front of him.

“I was going to tell you guys”

“When”

“When I got her to say yes” Spencer’s shoulders drooped.

“You were gonna re-propose?”

“Yes,” Spencer took out a black box from his coat pocket. “Tonight, I had everything planned”

“Spencer '' Morgan clasps Spencer’s shoulder. “We will find her, that’s what we do,”

They team except for Garcia go to the scene of the crime. It’s a fast food restaurant.

“She loves their burgers,” Spencer chuckles before looking at the building opposite.

“We’ll never know what she bought till we find her,”

“That’s where we start,” Aaron says as he points over to the tiny camera on its ceiling. Spencer and Derek go in as JJ calls Emily and Rossi over from interrogating a customer. Derek and Spencer meet a burly 30 something man.

“No I ayn’t geeving ya my CCTV, gyet lawst,”

“Derek, could you wait outside for a second,” Derek without question steps out. Hotch and the rest later notice.

“Why are you out here?”

“Spencer,” Derek shrugs.

“Wh-”

The door opens and Spencer is holding a tape.

“What did you do?”

“I asked him for it,” Spencer hands the tape to Derek. Derek looks at him skeptically, “I promise I didn’t hurt him,”

Find CCtv footage of the car y/n was kidnapped in

Track it down to somewhere in the middle of nowhere

Find it in front of a house

*They surround the house and get inside but the kidnapper dude already has y/n is his hands with a gun to her head.

Spencer comes from behind and shoots him in the hand holding the gun his shot being through and through

*Y/n tries to strangle the dude but Spencer grabs her from behind and pulls her away *

"LET ME GO, LET ME AT HIM," y/n yells as Reid holds her in. "LET. ME. AT. HIM."

"Calm down sunshine," Reid whispers in your ear. “He’s down,” he says as he rests hims face in your hair.

"Reid!? Reid,'' He spins you in his arms and hugs you bringing you close; he doesn't kiss you because you are surrounded by an audience.

"I thought I might have lost you" you nestle into his neck.

"You will never lose me Spence not if I have anything to say about it" You let go. “Can I atleast land one hit, I promise just one,” Spencer for the first time during this 3 day period, smiles.

"Spencer,” JJ called. "How about you do take care of this one, yeah"

Spencer nodded and took you home. Some of his clothes were at your place, so he didn’t bother stopping at his place.

He filled up your tub and undressed you. He wanted to let you be but you didn't let him. He slipped in behind you and he held you. For a long time.

"Tell me what you remember, sunshine, come on, let it out don't be all strong and brave, be weak and fragile, right here, right now,"

You leaned into him and before you knew it you were crying.

You never felt so helpless. You told him what happened. How it felt being held at gunpoint for the first time. How it felt being shoved into the car. The turns, right, left, left again.

The car stopping and him getting out and tossing her on the ground. Blacking out. Waking up in a wooden chair, tied down. Him slapping you twice for talking back at him.

Taking your phone.

Calling Spencer

His voice woke her up.

She wanted to cry then.

"Hey baby come on let it all out, studies show that the more you cry the more likely you'll recover from violent otherwise traumatic events an-"

"Sp-Spencer"

"Yeah sunshine"

"I love you okay"

"I love you more" Spencer takes the loofa and scrubs your feet, “If you want to stop we can”

“I- you- you need to know right?” I sob. “Your job”

“I don’t need to put down everything sometimes” Spencer stops what he’s doing and he comes back to you, “This is one of those times, okay?”

“O-okay” I sniff and sob. “I’m a mess,”

“I like everything about you about you even your mess”

“It’s sta-statistically proven th-that woman who show a sign of distress or a misery in a relationship tend to end up breaking the r-”

“Baby that’s rubbish, if you read that off a site it needs to be taken down” Spencer holds your head in his arms. “That’s a lie right there, this will never break, it’s actually the opposite see-” He stops when he notices the smile on my face.

“Spence”

“Yes sunshine”

“I’m joking” he rolls his eyes at you but you can see the smile tugging at his lips

He takes you out and cleans you before cleaning himself. He changes you into matching pyjamas. “Now as your doctor, I suggest bed rest with your boyfriend” you giggle.

“I like that treatment plan”

“So does your boyfriend”

Spencer stays by your side the entire night. The proposal can wait another day.

[trippiexlove]

Serendipity - Ch.4

story master list

Druitt POV

I had just pulled up to the arena that we were holding our live show at for tonight. As I walked to the locker room, I waved and said hello to the producers, stage crew, and road crew. 

I finally made it to the locker room and saw Bianca, Jade, and the rest of the Raw female roster. 

I quickly put my stuff by Bianca's as I said hey to everyone. 

"Hey girls" I gave Bi and Jade a quick hug. 

"Hey boo, how was your few days off?" Jade asked as she started pulling out her gear.

"It was good, got to see my parents, hung out with Bi and Trin, how was yours?"

"It was definitely needed, hubby and I took a quick vacay to Cancun"

"Oooh that sounds nice, definitely need to take a trip there soon" Bianca agreed.

Bianca turned and gave me a look, "But you missing out on a detail though"

I returned a confused look to here, "I don't know what you are talking about"

Jade, now intrigued, looked between the both of us "What else happened?"

"Miss Rhyan over here went on a date with Mr. Main Event" Jade gasped and got wide-eyed

"Shut up! How was it!" 

"It was not a date, we were just hanging out" I rolled my eyes. 

Jade shook her head, "yeah ok girl, keep saying that" 

I shook my head and then a heard a little laugh. I turned and look and seen it Rhea laughing.

"What's up?" I was confused on what she was laughing about.

She looked at me and gave me her signature smirk and walked out the room.

I turned to the girls and as they gave me a confused look, "what the hell was that about?" Bianca was the first to say something.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I have no clue at all"

I grabbed my gear out my bag, and changed real quick before heading to hair & makeup.

(Rhyan gear, hair, and makeup)

After I was done getting ready, I started walking around the arena aimlessly. I decided to go check the board to see who I was going to be having a match with tonight. 

I seen that I had a segment with Kayla, and a match against Liv Morgan, which I knew was coming after she has been talking smack the past couple weeks. 

I decided to make a trip to catering, meeting Bianca and Jade there. I grabbed some snacks and sat down with them, making random conversations. 

I saw Jade's eyes shift and a smirk on her face, "Oop your boo just walked in"

I scrunched my eyes and turned around and seen Jey walk in with Cody and Sami. 

"Girl please, that is not my boo, we are just friends" I shook my head.

"Yeah friends, but that could change to friends with benefits" Bianca teased. 

I rolled my eyes at her playfully. Would I admit to them I was feeling Jey, no because I would never hear the end of it. 

"Oooh he's coming over here" Jade said sitting up.

I soon smelled his signature cologne that smelled so good. I turned around giving him a smile. 

"Hey Rhyan, how you doing ladies" He came and sat down next to me.

"Hey Jey!" the girls said playfully 

"Y'all mind if I steal Rhyan for a second"

Bianca held up her hands, "Oh no that's fine, we have to go get ready for our matches"

"See you later girl" Jade said as her and Bianca got up, walking away exchanging underlying looks. 

I shook my head at them and gave Jey my full attention. 

"What's up Mr. Main Event?"

"Nothing much, got a match against Priest later on tonight, what's good with you though beautiful?"

"Same, got a match against Liv in a little while" he gave me a little nod. 

"Yeet, go get that dub" 

"Always, I know you going to get your dub too"

"Facts, but I just came over here to say I really enjoyed our outing yesterday, we should do it again"

"I had a really great time, how does next Tuesday sound, go out for brunch"

"I can do that for sure"

"Ok then I will see you then Mr. Main Event"

"Alright beautiful, go out there and kill it tonight" 

We both got up and we gave each other a hug before going our separate ways. 

~Fast Forward~ 

I was having my match with Liv, the crowd was hyped up as I was setting Liv up for my finisher, the Rhyne-Stone. 

I waited for Liv to get up and I ran putting my knees into her back, and rolling us over, hooking my arm under her neck pulling her up. Applying as much pressure on her back. 

"TAP OUT LIV, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO"

I pulled up some more and she finally tapped. 

I got up smiling as I was handed my title. The ref raised my hand, and I went and on the top rope to celebrate with the crowd. 

I hopped down and made my way into gorilla. I noticed Jey was there getting ready for his match.

I am not going to lie, he looked good with his gear on, his chain was glistening, and his wet hair and grills just added on to it. 

"That match was fire out there, you looked good"

"Thanks Main Event, go out there and kill it"

"Yeet" I smiled as I made my way back into the locker room. I quickly took a shower so I can make it back to my hotel. 

After I was done getting dressed, I walked past Rhea who was smirking at me. I gave her a look as I kept walking. 

I don't know what her problem is, but she better tread fucking lightly. 

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I continued to walk to my car, I soon caught up with Jade.

Our drive to the hotel was short and we went out separate ways. 

I threw my stuff by the door, as I had an early flight in the morning. I decided to watch TV til I fell asleep. 

In the middle of me watching Family Guy, I received a FaceTime call. I reached for my phone and saw it was Jey calling me. 

"What's up Main Event?" 

"Hey beautiful, I didn't wake you up did I?" 

"Oh no, I'm watching Family Guy" 

"Oh fr, that's one of my favorite shows" 

"Why don't you come over and we can both watch it" 

"Yeet, I'll bring food, just text we what you want from Waffle House and your room number" 

"You and this damn Waffle House, but alright I am texting you right now" 

"Yeet" 

I shook my head as I texted him what I wanted, and waited til he arrived. 

*20 minutes later* 

I heard a knock at the door and quickly got up. I opened the door with Jey standing there. 

"Hey ma, you look comfy" 

I looked down at my oversized undertaker shirt that fell over my shorts so it looked my a big T-shirt dress on me. 

"Haha I am, come on in" 

He walked in a set the food at the desk inside of the hotel room. He handed me my plate and we both took a seat on the bed. 

After eating we both had ended up laying down. Continuing watching Family Guy. 

I don't know how we ended up in this position, but Jey had one arm under one of my legs and his head laying on my stomach. 

I was mindlessly rubbing my hands through his hair as we continued watching TV. I must have stopped because Jey grabbed my hand. 

"Nah keep going" 

"Oh my fault sir" I let out a chuckle, "it must of felt good" 

"Hell yeah, this has been the most relaxed I've been in a while" 

"Life can be rough on the road, so I get it"

After a few more minutes, we both found ourselves in a deep sleep.

Jey POV

*Next Morning*

I heard my alarm and woke up. I noticed Druitt was laying on my chest comfortably. 

I slowly got up careful not to wake her.

I quietly grabbed my stuff, and grabbed one of her room keys. I took the elevator up to my floor, going in my room getting ready to take my shower and do my routine. 

I sent a quick text to Sami

Sami 

~ Uce you up?

~ Yeah what's up uce?

~ Can you do me a favor? I'll pay you back, you think you could run and grab me breakfast real quick? 

~ Yeah just text me your order, and I'll be there bout 30 minutes.

~ Yeet!

I texted him to pick Druitt and I some IHOP. 

I quickly took a shower, brush my teeth. Since my flight was later, I threw on some grey nike sweats, white tee, and my forces. 

After I was done getting dressed, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it seeing Sami with the bag of food. 

"What's good uce" I dapped him up, taking the bag out his hand "good looking out"

"No problem uce, but uhh what's going on with you and Druitt, got me buying y'all breakfast"

"Nothing man, we just friends"

"yeah ok, I'm out my flight in an hour I'll see you at work" 

"Alright uce" 

I decided since my flight wasn't for another few hours, I could chill with Druitt. 

I grabbed my stuff, along with our breakfast and made my way back to her room. 

On the way there I was passing by Rhea. She gave me a smirk and gave me a wave. I was confused so I just gave her a head nod and kept walking to the elevators. 

Once I made it to Druitt floor, I took her key card out and opened her door. She walked out the bathroom with the toothbrush in her mouth, changed into some leggings and fitted crop top. 

"Hey, I thought you left without saying goodbye, I was going to have to whoop your ass when I seen you" we both laughed.

"Yeah right like that would happen, I brought us food"

"Thank god, I am starving, let me finish getting ready"

I nodded, as I got our food out the bag. She soon came back out the bathroom and I handed her plate. 

"Messing with you I am going to gain a couple pounds" 

"Oh this ain't nothing, wait til you back in Atlanta I got to cook for you" 

"Oh you can cook? Bet keep that same energy when I do come back. If you ever in Orlando, I can hook something up"

"Alright it's a deal, you got me and I got you" 

She stuck out her pinky finger and I laugh, linking our pinky fingers together. 

After eating together, it was about time for me to make it to the airport. 

I grabbed all our trash and threw it away. 

"Alright, it's bout time for me to go"

"have safe travels, text me when you land"

"I will ma, hit me once you get home safe" 

I wrapped her up in a hug, letting it linger for a little bit. I placed a small kiss on the top of her head once I pulled away. 

I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door. 

I got in my uber and felt my phone vibrate. 

Jeyce Mom 😒

~ We need to talk when you get back

Oooooh suspense! 

How y'all feeling about Jey & Druitt? 

What could "Jeyce Mom" want to talk about with Jey?

If you want to be added to the tag list comment below <3

Tag list :

@xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112

[empty-plastic-water-bottle]

A fictional character????

Have you heard of pysch2go?

No why

[xbuzzybee]

thinking about that episode of criminal minds when el is being accused of murder, and hotch and morgan come in all protective and hotch gives el HIS JACKET

hotch my hubby

[vidjausers-fable]

Arthur Morgan Reader (Fanservice)

I had to do this doodle cause I'm trying to do warmups every day by doodling either with a reference or in my imagination. Originally, I was going to doodle John Marston (because he's my hubby <3) but then the pose just fit Arthur more...

The reference:

[bluebellhairpin]

I WAS TEMPTED TEEHEE <3

Favourite writer opened up writing commissions. I am. So tempted.