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spncvr ¡ 11 months ago
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spencelle in film
criminal minds, seasons one & two
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ladygenius ¡ 2 years ago
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Crimson Nights & Predators | Part III
Content: in their fairytale surrounding finally, Spencer tells y/n what’s bothering him about the evening
Wordcount: 1300
Category: fluffiest confession fluff🫶🏼
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, bullying, verbal abuse
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“By the way”, she clearly had to urge the rest of the mysterious booze down her throat, “Obviously, I’ve been planning to share this exquisite finding with my favorite bookworm anyway”, she darted her eyes back up at him.
“Mr. Braggy and his wingman just offered the first opportunity for a little getaway. Whoops.”
She rolled her eyes before facing one of the huge shelves, clearly with a plan in mind. “Alright. This devil’s stuff better made me forget about my vertigo. Hey, what do you think, Spence? Bet I’m gonna find, say, at least an original Twain or Whitman up there.”
Bravely, she climbed the first few steps of the ladder, a little wobbly on her heels maybe but still as gracefully as ever. That was until she leaned over a little too far and just as she reached for a particularly fancy-looking book the wheel mechanism of the ladder set in, catching y/n off guard.
This time, it really was her frightened squeaking as she clung to the shelf and Spencer reacted just in time to stop the ladder before she would have eventually flopped to the ground - ungracefully.
After a moment of shock that lasted longer than it would have with sober brain cells, they both burst out into ringing laughter.
So while Spencer was holding onto the ladder from the start this time as a safety measure, y/n continued her quest for the most ancient-looking copies. He urged himself to look in every direction but ahead of him – y/n’s legs centimeters away from his face - nervous at the sight of their soft skin and perfect shape, he desperately tried to find something to talk about. But it was her voice that made the decision for him.
“Spence.. Can I ask you a question?" his face instinctively tilted upwards, only to shyly dart down again, realizing he didn't want her to think he was trying to get a glimpse up the skirt of her alluring dress. "Do you think I’m being kind of a bitch to Andersson?” The question alone set off an alarm inside him.
“I mean, it’s actually kinda mean… running away from someone like a kid on a playground. But you know, I’ve told him like a gazillion times that I have no interest in going out with him.”
Spencer’s thoughts immediately catapulted him back to the bar. The two men’s degrading comments about y/n and Andersson’s plan to take advantage of her potentially intoxicated self once the evening had come to an end. And yet, here she was feeling sorry for him. It made his heart ache. But fortunately, from where she was standing, she couldn’t see the honest pain plastered on his face.
"Spence, did I say something wrong?" "Oh.. no, y/n. Not at all" She descended carefully, Spencer steadying her with a gentle hand on her back.
"You know.." she hesitated, suddenly their difference in height making her seem so vulnerable and timid again. "I didn't want you to think of me this way but I feared somehow this was reminding you of how you were treated once.. you know, back in high school. I don't want you to think of me as that kind of woman.. you know, leading guys on only to prank them in some demeaning way for everyone to see."
"What, woah, y/n. This isn't even in the slightest comparable. I mean it. Hey, look at me. I would never think of you like that, Okay?" He was incapable of even beginning to explain how far his genuine thoughts about her varied from her assumption.
She nodded doubtfully, her gaze resting on his hand on her shoulder which he immediately pulled back upon noticing.
"It's just.. I feel like you're somehow - angry about something? I don't know. Maybe I'm just reading into it too much but I was afraid we weren't okay.. Cause we are, right?" Her orbs studied him and widened hopefully, as his heart was melting once again at how well she knew him.
"No. You're right.. obviously", he sighed, y/n's chest puffing out anxiously, her brows frowning. "I just can't keep a secret from you, can I?" His timid smile clearly made y/n already feel a little more at ease. "It's those jerks." "What? Andersson and his idiotic wingman? How could simple creatures like them cause brilliant Dr. Reid any trouble?"
"I. I just can't stand how they're treating you.. you know." Y/n seemed baffled for a second. "Oh.. well, yeah, I mean, they're obvious douches and it's annoying Andersson won't ever accept a simple no. But other than staring and asking me to dance he really hasn't done anything I could blame him for. It's sweet of you, though, that you're being different. You actually sense how I'm feeling, you know. You always can."
Her hands settled on the hem of his jacket, where they had already rested earlier this evening, causing nothing but blissful feelings inside him. But now it felt all wrong.
Her eyes searched for his. But he couldn't face her, it hurt too much. Just like he had thought - sooner or later, the fairytale was bound to end.
"Please don't defend them". His lips uttered barely inaudible. "Those pricks sure as hell don't deserve that." Slightly startled by the unlike-him choice of words and the stern sound of his voice, y/n sensed that she must be clueless about the situation.
"What happened, Spence"? She softly tilted up his chin to reveal his hazel eyes meeting hers all blurry.
"They said things about you.. earlier. I overheard them. Disgusting stuff you don't deserve. No one does. I don't even wanna repeat it.. I just can't stand the thought of you being talked about this way y/n. And yet you're the one to worry about treating them fairly. They're nowhere good enough for you anyway. And I know, neither am I, but I would never treat you like that." This last part slipped out unintentionally. And y/n noticed.
It’s over, he thought to himself standing here almost crying, she must think him to be completely embarrassing.
But she just stepped even closer to Spencer, hesitating briefly before decidedly taking his hands inside her own. Finally.
"I know you never would.. That's why I love you." That, too, slipped out somewhat suddenly but not quite as unintentionally. She sensed how loaded this topic was for Spencer, how much she meant to him. She has been suspecting this for a while now, but she was always just too scared to take the leap. And now she couldn't help it. In this perfect location with his protectiveness about her.
His eyes fixated on her own for almost an eternity. Both barely blinked. Whatever happened, it wouldn't be half bad, y/n thought. After all, he finally knew. God, how he deserved to know he was loved like that.
"But.. y/n. Why would you ever, I mean. You're so much more than I am-"
"You are everything to me, Spencer. It doesn't get much bigger than that, I guess. I mean, of course, if you insisted, I could go with the whole universe too.. but the point is, you've always been more than enough because you're you-"
And suddenly it was he who cut y/n short unexpectedly. His lips met hers with the most delicate urgency imaginable. Finally, he could pull her closer without their bodies colliding meaning mere accidental contact.
Her hands around his neck tangled into his soft curls and it still felt like once they let go of each other - it might all be over again. The Fairytale a silly fantasy and reality ready to separate them cruelly.
But as they opened their eyes, everything remained the same. "I love you too, y/n."
Except for the fact that everything was different now.
Spencer's eyes were still blurry from overwhelm, but this time for a better reason as he stared deeply into hers. He cleared his throat, "By the way.. did you end up finding any good first prints up there?" Y/n let out an embarrassed laugh.
"Honest to God.. I don't remember anymore."
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What are you doing? Catch up: Part I | Part II
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lillaberry ¡ 1 month ago
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” - - be my whore, my mistress, as much as you like (my little frigging mistress! My little fucking whore!) you are always my beautiful wild flower of the hedges, my dark-blue rain-drenched flower.”
I never knew I needed to hear those words from her but now that I have I am a woman changed.
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masterwords ¡ 6 months ago
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1x08 | 2x02 | 5x15 | 10x05
quiet everyone, hotch is telling us a story. (because the writers never did.)
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theunholyvirginemilyprentiss ¡ 6 months ago
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Click for Pt. 1
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sirmatthew1972 ¡ 6 months ago
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Aside from this being another case of how the CM writers let us down by not giving Hotch a proper background again? Nope. I only got a load of what ifs, as do we all, starting with the so angsty thought of: What if Hotch is a home fire survivor himself? Or what if he's stood witness to another person (a close friend or relative) getting burned alive? We can but guess... or write fic to fill in those blanks ourselves. (And no, that someone isn't me. I got an immortal!hotch and his beloved Spencer to return to)
Can’t believe we never got the backstory on whatever the hell Hotch’s thing with fire was.
Like it was clearly a thing for him, fire was one of the few things that made him lose composure more than once yet we never find out?
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velvetwilde ¡ 10 months ago
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WHY HE COULDN'T BE THIS HAPPY THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE DAMN SHOW.
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imreidswifey ¡ 20 days ago
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Paint-Stained Promises -Fluff-
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Spencer Reid x Artist!Reader
Credit to @drowning-rabbit their head-cannons was the only thing that made this possible!ďżźPlease go follow and like their posts!
Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid never expected to find love amidst the chaos of profiling criminals and chasing shadows. But when he meets you, a free-spirited painter with a penchant for covering yourself—and your apartment—in splashes of color, his life begins to shift in ways he never imagined. From quiet evenings spent as your muse to secret notes tucked into his lunch bag, Spencer discovers a kind of intimacy and joy that feels as brilliant and messy as your art.
Warnings:
Fluff Overload: This story is heavy on romance, intimate moments, and playful teasing.
Mild Embarrassment: Expect Spencer to be adorably awkward and flustered in social situations.
Team Banter: Includes friendly teasing, nosy colleagues, and found-family dynamics.
Themes of Vulnerability: Emotional intimacy and personal growth are central to the story.
Mentions of Profiler Work: While the story focuses on romance, it references Spencer’s work with the BAU, which involves criminal profiling (no graphic details).
Reader Discretion: Ideal for fans of soft, romantic fanfiction and anyone who loves a good balance of humor, love, and heartwarming moments.
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The late afternoon sun slants through the blinds, casting soft, golden streaks across the room. You’re perched cross-legged on the floor in front of your easel, a brush tucked behind your ear and smudges of cerulean and ochre streaking your hands and cheeks. The smell of turpentine and acrylic paint mingles with the faint scent of lavender from the candle flickering on the windowsill.
Every piece of furniture within paint-splash radius has been meticulously wrapped in cling film. Your living room looks like a scene from a crime drama—a precautionary measure after the last time you accidentally turned the couch into a canvas.
The familiar jingle of keys in the lock pulls your attention.
“Spencer!” you call out, not looking away from your painting. “Be careful where you step! It’s chaos in here!”
“I noticed,” he says, stepping inside. His voice, soft and amused, makes your chest flutter.
You glance over your shoulder to find him standing in the doorway, his bag slung over one shoulder, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. His sweater vest is slightly askew, and his hair, as always, has that artful messiness to it that makes your fingers itch to sketch him.
He sets his bag down, tilting his head as he takes in the scene. “I assume the cling film is for… protection?”
“Exactly,” you reply, gesturing with your brush. “I’m not cleaning paint off the sofa again. And before you ask—yes, I learned my lesson last time.”
His laughter, soft and genuine, fills the space between you. He crosses the room, carefully stepping over paint tubes and discarded sketches, and leans down to press a kiss to your temple.
“Missed you,” he murmurs.
You smile, the warmth of his presence already sinking into your skin. “Missed you too. But hold that thought—I need you to sit still for me.”
Spencer raises a brow. “Sit still?”
“Yep. I’m drawing you,” you announce, dragging a chair into the light. “Here. Sit. Read. Don’t move too much.”
He hesitates for only a second before complying, pulling a book from his bag and settling into the chair. He’s used to this by now—the spontaneous bursts of inspiration that seize you at the oddest times.
You watch him as he opens the book, his long fingers flipping through the pages with practiced ease. He adjusts his glasses, and the golden light catches on the frames, making him look like something out of a Renaissance portrait.
“You’re staring,” he says, not looking up.
“You’re pretty,” you reply without missing a beat, grinning when you catch the faint blush creeping up his neck.
Your brush moves almost of its own accord, capturing the curve of his jaw, the way the light dances in his hair. You’ve drawn him a hundred times before—in little doodles on post-it notes, in margins of notebooks, on scraps of paper that find their way into his pockets and desk drawers. But there’s something about this moment, the quiet intimacy of it, that feels different.
Every now and then, Spencer’s brow furrows or his lips twitch as he reacts to whatever he’s reading.
“Stop that,” you tease, smacking his arm lightly with the handle of your brush.
“Stop what?”
“Reacting. You’re ruining the pose.”
He looks up, feigning innocence. “You want me to be an unfeeling statue?”
“Yes. Just for a little while.”
He shakes his head, but the smile on his face betrays him. “You know I can’t help it. This chapter is fascinating.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “Fine. But keep the dramatics to a minimum.”
You lose track of time, the rhythm of your brushstrokes and the sound of Spencer turning pages creating a kind of harmony. Occasionally, you catch him sneaking glances at you over the top of his book, his expression soft and adoring.
“Done,” you announce finally, stepping back to admire your work.
Spencer closes his book, setting it aside as he stands to join you. He leans over your shoulder, studying the painting.
“It’s beautiful,” he says, his voice tinged with awe. “You make me look better than I do in real life.”
“Liar,” you reply, nudging him with your elbow. “You’re perfect, and you know it.”
He laughs, pulling you into his arms. His sweater smells faintly of coffee and the library, and you sink into him, paint-stained hands be damned.
The next morning, you’re up early, packing his lunch like you always do. It’s a quiet ritual, one that’s become second nature. You slip a note into the bag—a quick sketch of a coffee cup with the words Stay caffeinated and brilliant scrawled beneath it.
When Spencer leaves for work, he’s none the wiser about the speck of glitter clinging to his sleeve or the faint smudge of yellow paint on his collar.
At the BAU, Derek Morgan squints at Spencer as he sits at his desk, pulling out a sleek new pen to sign some paperwork.
“Pretty boy,” Morgan says, leaning against the desk. “Where’d you get that pen? Looks fancy.”
Spencer freezes mid-signature, his ears immediately turning red. “It’s, uh… It’s just a pen,” he says quickly. “Not that fancy. Just—uh—a gift. From someone.”
“Someone, huh?” Morgan’s grin spreads slowly, his interest clearly piqued.
Spencer clears his throat, focusing intently on the paper in front of him. “It’s a practical pen. The ink quality is exceptional, and the dry time is virtually instantaneous. Which is important for someone who writes as much as I do. The weight and balance are also—”
“Spence.” Morgan cuts him off, laughing. “I’m not asking for a dissertation. Just tell me—who’s the someone?”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Spencer stammers, the papers in his hands suddenly fascinating.
Morgan raises an eyebrow, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “Is there a ‘someone’ in your life we should know about? Fancy pens, glitter on your clothes… you’ve been walking in here like you’ve got a whole secret world going on.”
Before Spencer can respond, Emily Prentiss spins her chair around, joining the conversation with a smirk. “Wait, wait, wait. Did you say glitter?”
“It’s subtle,” Morgan says, crossing his arms. “But it’s there. And now I want answers.”
Spencer looks like he’s considering fleeing, his wide eyes darting between them. “It’s… not important. Really. Can we get back to work?”
“Not important?” JJ chimes in from her desk, her expression far too curious. “Spence, you’re blushing. It’s definitely important.”
Rossi walks by at that exact moment, sipping his coffee. “Sounds like our resident genius is in love,” he says casually, earning a chorus of laughter from the team.
Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands. “Can we please not do this right now?”
Morgan claps a hand on his shoulder, grinning. “Come on, pretty boy. Who is she? Or he? Or they? Give us something.”
For a moment, Spencer hesitates. Then, with a resigned sigh, he mumbles, “Her name is… Y/N.”
The room falls silent for a beat before bursting into a flurry of exclamations.
“Y/N?” JJ asks, her smile soft. “You’ve been holding out on us, Spence!”
“Okay, but the glitter makes so much sense now,” Emily says, leaning back in her chair.
“Do they pack your lunch too?” Morgan teases. “Because you’ve been looking suspiciously well-fed lately.”
“Enough,” Spencer mutters, though the corners of his mouth betray him with a faint smile. “Yes, I’m… dating someone. Her name is Y/N. She’s an artist. And that’s all you’re getting.”
Morgan snorts. “Oh, we’re getting way more than that. This is just the beginning.”
Spencer shakes his head, but his blush deepens. As much as he protests, there’s an undeniable glow to him that the team can’t help but notice.
And while they tease him mercilessly, it’s clear that they’re thrilled for him—because Spencer Reid, their brilliant, awkward, kind-hearted genius, deserves all the love in the world.
And every night, when Spencer comes home to find you covered in paint with that familiar smile on your face, he’s reminded of just how lucky he is.
That night, Spencer steps through the door, his usual quietness replaced with an air of nervous excitement. His bag is slung over one shoulder, and there’s an extra gleam in his hazel eyes as he finds you standing at the kitchen counter, a bowl of pancake batter in your hands.
“Hey, genius,” you greet, not looking up as you stir. “How was work?”
“Uh…” He hesitates, and the sound of his bag hitting the floor grabs your attention.
You glance up, catching the telltale flush creeping up his neck. “What happened?”
“They… um…” He rubs the back of his neck, his voice softening. “They know.”
Your heart skips a beat, the spoon slipping from your fingers. “They know?”
“About us.”
You freeze for a moment, staring at him, before breaking into laughter. “What gave it away? The glitter, the notes, or the fact that you’ve been using pens too nice for a government salary?”
He cracks a sheepish smile, stepping closer. “Morgan asked about the pen, and I… may have overexplained.”
You laugh even harder, clutching the counter for support. “Oh, Spencer. Of course you did.”
His hands find your waist, steadying you as you catch your breath. “It’s not funny,” he mutters, though his lips are twitching with the hint of a smile.
“It’s hilarious,” you counter, looping your arms around his neck. “What did they say?”
“They were… amused,” he admits, his gaze dropping. “Morgan gave me a hard time, and JJ said it was sweet. Rossi just smirked like he already knew, and Emily—well, she asked if you’re the reason I’ve been smelling like lavender lately.”
You snort, shaking your head. “So, basically, they love it.”
His arms tighten around you, his forehead resting against yours. “They think I’m lucky,” he says softly. “And they’re right.”
Your breath hitches, the sincerity in his voice sending a wave of warmth through you.
“You are lucky,” you tease, brushing a paint-stained thumb against his cheek. “But so am I.
Later that evening, after dinner and a shared bottle of wine, you find yourselves on the couch, your legs draped across his lap. A sketchpad rests on the coffee table, abandoned in favor of the moment.
Spencer is reading again, his brow furrowing every now and then as he flips through the pages. You’re half-watching him, half-daydreaming, your heart full to bursting.
“Do you think they’ll ever stop teasing you?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.
He doesn’t look up, but a small smile plays on his lips. “Probably not. But I don’t mind. They’re happy for me—for us.”
The words hang in the air, soft and certain, and you feel a lump rise in your throat.
“Come here,” you murmur, tugging gently on his arm.
He sets the book aside and shifts closer, letting you curl into his side. His hand comes up to cradle your head, his fingers threading through your hair.
“I love you,” you whisper, the words slipping out as naturally as a breath.
He freezes for a moment, his hand stilling against your hair. Then he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours.
“I love you too,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.
It’s the first time he’s said it, and the weight of it settles over you like a warm blanket. You can see it in his eyes, the quiet reverence with which he holds those words—holds you.
You lean up to kiss him, your lips brushing against his in a way that feels like a promise. When you pull back, he’s smiling, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alight with something that looks a lot like forever.
Over the next few weeks, life settles into a new kind of normal. The team’s teasing becomes a regular occurrence, but Spencer takes it in stride, his quick wit and encyclopedic knowledge often leaving Morgan speechless.
You keep sending him off to work with lovingly packed lunches and scribbled notes, and he keeps coming home with faint traces of glitter on his clothes and stories that make your heart ache with pride and love.
One evening, as you’re sorting through your art supplies, you find a small stack of post-it notes tucked into one of your sketchbooks. They’re all doodles of Spencer—some detailed, others hastily drawn in moments of inspiration.
You gather them up and slip them into his desk drawer, smiling to yourself as you imagine him finding them later.
And when he does—when he texts you a picture of one with the caption You’re amazing—you know you’ll never get tired of loving him.
Because with Spencer, even the quiet, everyday moments feel extraordinary. And together, you’ve created something messy, colorful, and perfect—a masterpiece all your own.
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plutoispurplw ¡ 9 months ago
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Fresh Out The Slammer
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Summary: You're going to see Spencer after he spent three months on the prision.
Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Little angst, mention of prision and murder.
A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back to write like is running out of time! Someone has to take TTPD away from me, now this is an addiction.
Sorry if this doesn't have to much to do wuth the song and remember, english is not my first language, so please tell me if I have an error.
Plss reblog it and request are open!
Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ
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When Spencer was being held in custody in Mexico, you were anxious, you visited him and he was completely different from who you were accustomed to.
It was like he wasn’t mentally there, he looked like a mess and his mental stability was almost inexistent, you almost broke down when you saw him in that state.
After that visit, he didn’t let you go again to see him, he didn’t want you to see him in that state and was worried about your mental health even if he was worse in that matter.
You felt hurt at that moment but you decided to understand him and didn’t visit him again but you sent him letters, the first few letters he didn't respond to you, after some time he started to respond to your letters.
You have been feeling down all the time, being in your apartment made you feel miserable knowing he wasn't there, it felt lifeless there without his presence.
Your bed that once was your favorite place in the world became the worst place to be without his arms around you holding you and protecting you from all the things that happen out there.
You were cleaning the apartment when your phone started to ring, you took it to check who it was and when you saw his name you let out a scream. You quickly answer the call.
“Spencer, are you okay?” You said immediately when the call started, your voice was full of worry for him.
“Yes, I’m already out and I’m alright, don’t worry angel.” His voice sounded reassuring, even if he wasn’t alright he wouldn’t have told you but something inside you told you to believe him.
That calmed you instantly, knowing he was alright made your mind at peace, and the overthinking in your mind stopped even if it was for a moment.
“I’m going to be there in a couple of hours.” His voice sounded tired, knowing him you know that he hadn’t slept more than two hours or less in those three months
Now you were waiting for him in your apartment, sitting on your couch trying to read a book, but that task seemed impossible right now, your mind was only focused on the clock in the living room, checking it every few minutes.
It felt like the minutes were slowly becoming eternal, your heart was beating like it was going to get out of your chest, and your mind was running through a million thoughts at the same time.
Then you heard the door opening and you ran towards the entrance just like a little kid, when you saw him you just hugged him while tears began to spill from you’re eyes.
“I missed you so much.” You whispered against his neck, your voice breaking with every word you spoke. His hands were rubbing your back in a calming notion.
When you pulled back enough to see his face, you noticed that his face had tears spilling from his beautiful eyes, you removed them with your thumbs while you held his face in your hands.
“You don’t have any idea of how much I thought about you, All those nights, you kept me going. I read every letter you sent.” He pulled you towards him for a kiss. When his lips touched yours it was like being in heaven again.
You pulled away a little and put your head on his chest “I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that.” Your voice was weak and filled with sadness thinking about all the things that he had suffered, you looked to another side.
He pulled away a little and took you by the chin to make you see him, he started to speak again. “Even if I go through all of that, knowing that you were here is enough compensation for all the things that I had suffered in my life.”
You kissed again but with time it was more slowly and gently, the kiss was filled with the love that the two of you had for each other. You were sure that the love would never end between you two.
He was the one who you want to spend the rest of your life with him.
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ssahotchnerr ¡ 1 year ago
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“come on haley, let’s go show them how it’s done.” 😭
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wereoz ¡ 9 months ago
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having reid replying to blake apologising for very bluntly implying spencer is autistic with ‘i didn’t even notice” AND THEN having her say ‘see! this is what i love about you, you don’t waste time like everyone else getting offended. if everyone just said what they meant and got on with it the world would be such a better place’ and them nodding and agreeing over it is INSANE levels of autistic coding without having to make any commitments literally what the fuck…….. !!!!!!! REMEMBER WHEN TV USED TO BE LIKE THIS
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ladygenius ¡ 2 years ago
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A figurative Coffee to break the Ice?
Sooo guys this is new - I have Buy me a coffee now!!❤️☕️
Obviously, no pressure whatsoever :) I just thought it'd be a fun & honest way for anyone who might be looking for a way to support beyond liking and reblogging. I love each and every one of you anyway.. I mean, we've cracked 100 Followers?! 🥲
Only Love - R
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nikoniclove ¡ 6 days ago
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What are the chapters with the cockwarming? I’m doing some ✨research✨
Very briefly here in Heavy Dose of Rough and Demanding
Here in Interrupted by a Parent
Run Ragged
This chapter of Fireworks Sound Like War
This chapter of When the Past Meets the Present
This chapter of When JJ Tops
This part of Exploring the Freedom of Use
I think that’s all of them?
Happy researching 🤗
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theunholyvirginemilyprentiss ¡ 6 months ago
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The BAU on a commercial flight:
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EMILY: Stopped and searched at the security checkpoint because she forgot she was wearing an ankle holstered gun. Is the person who kicks your seat and hogs the armrest because gay people do not know how to sit on a chair properly.
JJ: Is the one having her armrest hogged by Emily. Opens a packet of peanuts and gives someone an allergic reaction. Should have stuck with Cheetos…
TARA: “It’s okay, I’m a doctor! Not a doctor of medicine, but I’m sure I can figure it out!”
PENELOPE: Watches movies on her tablet and eats M&M’s like the little iPad kid she is, eventually falling asleep on Morgan’s shoulder during ‘Legally Blonde’.
MORGAN: Shamelessly flirting with the flight attendants and trying to hide the fact that he is watching ‘Legally Blonde’ over Penelope’s shoulder—and loving it.
HOTCH: Reading FBI case files in his sunglasses, not noticing the kid who has been staring at him the whole time thinking ‘damn, James Bond be on this flight.’
SPENCER: Talking to that same kid and his mother, explaining aerodynamics and discussing plane crash statistics. The kid’s mother requests a seat change.
ELLE: Lets Spencer explain aerodynamics to her instead. She swaps her red jello for his orange jello from the airplane meal because red is his favourite.
Check out my Masterlist for more BAU scenarios
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fallingfavourites ¡ 5 months ago
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teasing my (first) criminal minds fisher king based fic instead continuing to editing it <3
full fic is out !!
Everyone on the team had gotten 2 weeks off. Elle and Derek decided to not waste a second of it and flew away to Jamaica. Hotchner went to spend time with his family. Gideon would most likely be birdwatching in his cabin if you had to guess, he doesn’t like sharing much about his personal life. Neither does Reid who is heading back home to Las Vegas. You had just ended up on your couch with a cozy blanket and a movie you had been meaning to watch. A sudden loud ringing made you jump up. Rubbing your eyes so they can refocus.
You had fallen asleep. You would’ve laughed at yourself if it wasn’t for the constant loud ringing. Finally, finding your phone between the blanket you picked up without looking at the caller ID.  “Y/n? Y/n?” It took a second for you to register JJ’s voice as she repeated your name.
“Yeah, Yeah, I’m here is everything okay?” you asked, running a hand through your hair. “You need to get to the office. Now.” She sounded serious.
“What happened?” You asked as you vaguely heard someone talk to JJ. It kind of sounded like Gideon. If he came to the office, it must be serious. “Tell me when I get there, I’m on my way.” You said, not even waiting for her to respond to your question and hung up.
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beware-of-you-98 ¡ 7 months ago
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i know, i know, jj is so fucking strong and she perseveres despite everything she’s gone through, i know, but fucking hell my heart is breaking over and over for her
the far away look in her eyes
the constant fidgeting to keep herself present
the way she only has the bare minimum amount of skin showing, even to where she’s covering her hands
my heart hurts for her so much and she’s forcing herself to deal with all of this alone
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