Your Back Beneath The Sun, Wishin' I Could Write My Name On It

Three times Alex denied being ticklish

Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue

Characters: Alex/Henry

Anonymous said: Hi N! I loved your red white and royal blue fic! In that story you said, that Henry had to tickle Alex to pieces three times before he admitted to being ticklish. Would you be interested in writing about that as well?

Words: 800

1.

The revelation had happened on a day like any other, only Henry had marked it in his calendar and Alex had whined about it for days because of it. A Tuesday, semi-cloudy, event after event lining up throughout the day, and all Alex had wanted was to sneak in some fun between them if you catch his drift.

He’d wanted slow kisses and quick hands. Hushed voices and Henry tugging lightly at his hair while a coat hanger dug into Alex’s shoulder blade.

What he’d gotten instead was Henry digging his fingers into his sides again with a delighted laugh, because Alex’s stupid body had been too eager and too tired to pretend the gentle squeeze hadn’t tickled the first time, and so of course Henry needed to be an asshole about it and do it again.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he said, indignant and offended and whatever other emotion he managed to lace his voice with as Alex was too busy trying to shove him off.

“I’m not,” he said, knowing it was stupid to deny it, especially when Henry was just about to discover that his ribs were even worse as he climbed his hands upward, but he said it anyway.

“Are you sure about that?” Henry’s voice had a teasing lilt to it which made Alex want to both blush and tear his clothes off.

“Y-yes!” He tried to twist out of his grip, bumping into a broom or something which fell against the door. “Henry, they’ll hear us- don’t!”

“I think they’ll understand when I tell them of the earth-shattering information I just discovered about the first son of the United States.”

“Henry!”

Henry stilled his fingers with a huff. “Fine. But your denial does not land with me.”

“Please shut up and just kiss me while you can, you idiot.”

2.

The second time was much more private, which meant that Henry had much more time to explore his discovery, much to Alex’s dismay. He pinned him on the bed, Alex thinking for a second that this was simply Henry being impatient, only to realize that his wandering hands were aiming to tickle rather than to touch.

“Hey, wait, don’t do tha-ah!”

“Why?” Henry paused just at Alex’s upper ribs. “You’re not ticklish, remember?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Have fun having a whole nation after you.” Henry curled his fingers, grinning when Alex jumped. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

“I see. So you won’t mind if I do that again then?”

Alex leaned his head back, begging the gods for strength. “Of course not.” “Oh, good, because now that I think about it, I have noticed you twitching a bit when I kiss your neck.”

Alex’s breath hitched. “Right.”

“So be a good boy and keep your head just as it is.”

Alex was not a good boy, but Henry was strong, Henry was stubborn, and Henry was much too good of a tickler for it to be fair.

It was a miracle no one came to rescue him, because Alex was certain his screams could be heard throughout the whole of the White House. He needed new guards for sure.

3.

The third time had Alex nervous, which Henry noticed and teased him about. “I wouldn’t be torturing you if you had just not kept this from me to begin with.”

“Sorry for not holding a press conference about being ticklish, your majesty.”

“So you admit it?”

“No.”

“Then I reckon I have no choice.”

Alex tried to make a run for it this time, leaping over the bed with Henry right at his heels, both laughing, both young and silly and in love, and when Henry managed to grab him and pull him down into a heap on the floor Alex wondered if this was how the rest of his life would be and found he didn’t mind it at all. Not even when Henry started tickling his knees.

…and one time he admitted it.

In the end, Henry didn’t have to coax out the confession.

It was late, both were breathing heavily, and Henry was running his fingertips over Alex’s stomach without any real intention of tickling him. Alex was half asleep and wasn’t feeling ticklish at all until he hit a particularly bad spot on his lower belly, which made his hand shoot out to try to stop him. “Tickles,” he mumbled and he heard Henry laugh, something hushed and lovely.

“Knew it,” he said, and Alex whined, unwilling to open his eyes to glare at him. “Is this your official confession?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his head away from him and sighing happily when lips found his temple. “Don’t be annoying about it.”

Henry huffed. “I would never.”

“Liar.”

“Not fun when someone denies the obvious, huh?”

“Shut up and go to sleep, your majesty.”

The longing never bared aches to be revealed

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Derek/Spencer

Summary: Spencer tries to explain to Derek why he likes tickling.

A/N: Look at me resurrecting my ‘verse! I guess you can read this independently, but it does reference this fic and takes place in that universe. I hope you enjoy!

Words: 1.5k

(Read it on ao3)

Sometimes, when they’d both fallen quiet, or if they’d steered their conversation toward an especially vulnerable topic, Derek would notice Spencer’s reluctance to meet his eyes. It was cute to see him become so shy. Not discomfort or even awkwardness, but simply shyness, something Spencer rarely displayed before, well, everything. The case had forced out embarrassment, and while Derek enjoyed seeing the way his blush spread out across his face, it was different when he was just feeling shy as opposed to being embarrassed. Embarrassment came without consent. The case, the capture, the inevitable discussions about tickling and what it meant to him: that had embarrassed him.

But now? The pinkening of his cheeks and the avoidance of eye contact only spoke of timidness, and Derek was in love with it. The shyness that came because he allowed himself to be put in a vulnerable position and trusting Derek enough to not take advantage of it in the wrong way.

“Look at me.” He placed his fingertips on Spencer’s chin, tapping it gently to get him to look up. He knew it tickled him. He knew he would jerk away with a panicked giggle each time, and yet Spencer never asked him to stop doing it. Derek had briefly wondered if he avoided his gaze just for him to do it, but while the notion was incredibly endearing he had a feeling it wasn’t the only reason.

“I’m looking,” Spencer said now, having of course let out that laugh Derek had been waiting for.

Keep reading

Fade into view

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Steve/Eddie

Summary: Steve tries to confess to Eddie that he likes being tickled.

Words: 900

It was almost poetic, the way the sun spilled into the room that July afternoon and lit Steve up where he sat on Eddie’s bed, nearly like a spotlight. He truly did feel exposed, trying to figure out what to do with his hands, where to rest his gaze. Eddie wasn’t the worst audience - in fact he sat there patiently, kindness in his very bones - but despite how many times Steve had rehearsed this speech he still found the words stumbling over his tongue and refusing to come out right.

“I just-” He paused, swallowed, restarted. “Maybe you’ve noticed that, uh-” Inhaled, restarted. “You know this thing you do.” His only full sentence made almost no sense.

“Thing?” Eddie, bless him, did his very best to not smile, although his struggle was very visible to Steve who would love to put his attention anywhere but on his confession.

“You know.” There were many things Eddie did, Harrington. “How you- torment me?”

“With tickles?” It wasn’t necessarily a miracle that Eddie could figure it out just from that, since Steve always said he liked tormenting him after he’d reduced him to an incoherent mess. “Sure.”

“It, uh-” Made him so fucking happy he was putting himself through the torture of saying it aloud just so Eddie never took his protests seriously enough and stopped doing it? He couldn’t say that. No way.

“It what?” Eddie tilted his head at him now, curiosity laced in the way he batted his eyelashes, in the way he raised his eyebrows. “Am I doing it too much?”

“No, no.” Truth was he probably was, but Steve, being an addict, needed it even more. “I- is it hot in here or is it just me?”

Eddie reached out and grabbed the hem of Steve’s shirt, fingertips nudging his neck and making him recoil ever so slightly, but all Eddie did was pull at it. “Maybe go for a tank top. I can lend you one.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, because he knew that if he allowed Eddie to get up and walk away he would never try to speak of this again. “I, uh. Well. You know. How you torment me?”

“Yes, we’ve established that I’m terrible for tickling you,” he said with a laugh. “I can stop.”

“No.” The word had left his mouth much too quickly for Steve to register it was even forming on his tongue.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“Uhm.” What the fuck was he supposed to say now? “I just-”

“Do you like it or somethin’?”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat and he looked away. He could lie. He could say no. Say he simply enjoyed the intimacy of it all. Say he enjoyed laughing. But while all of it was true it missed the key part of it all: that he liked it, period. Liked the whole experience of it.

“I do.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected Eddie to do. To ask questions, to get up and leave, to call him gross. All he knew was that he didn’t expect him to let out a low laugh, reach out to gently squeeze his knee and say, “I know, I’m just messing with you.” But he did do exactly that.

“What.” Steve’s word was barely a question at this point. “You mean to tell me I’ve been sitting here trying to confess like a moron and you already knew?”

“You make me sound mean when you put it that way.” Eddie shrugged. “But yes. Of course I knew. Why do you think I keep doing it?”

“God, I hate you so much.”

“Awe, but you were just confiding in me. Of course you don’t hate me.”

“Stop grinning at me.”

“I can’t help it when you’re so endearing.” Eddie tried to pinch Steve’s cheek, but he slapped his hand away. “You don’t want me to touch you? You don’t want me to tickle your belly to pieces right this second?”

“Shut up.”

“Pin you down and make you say out loud how much you like it?”

“Oh my god, you wouldn’t.”

“Watch you blush and stutter.”

“Eddie, I swear to god.”

Eddie softened, reaching out to run his hand over Steve’s hair. “I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to. And thank you for telling me. You know I’m just messing with you.”

“You love teasing me,” Steve mumbled, leaning into the touch. “So mean.”

“I enjoy flustering you, I do admit.” He moved his hand down, cupping Steve’s cheek. “And I won’t tickle you until you ask me to.”

“Oh my god, you are mean.”

“I would call it considerate.” Eddie trailed his hand down further, fingertip moving from his throat to his chest to his ribs to his belly. “Just say when.”

Of course Steve said when, quietly, awkwardly, breathlessly, and Eddie had him pinned immediately, fingers curling over his skin and not stopping. Steve started begging for mercy out of habit, but he knew he would die if Eddie stopped now. Luckily for him Eddie must’ve realized it, for he merely used his other hand to squeeze at his thigh, over and over and over until Steve nearly bucked him off the bed. “Fuck!” he cried, and Eddie laughed as well, purring out a “Yeah?” which had Steve blushing to his roots.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

hi welcome

this blog is very messy and not very active. will organize eventually.

i am quite new to tumblr and i'm still trying to learn how it works.

a very beginner fic writer

always looking for new friends, don't be shy!

i like criminal minds, doctor who, good omens, supernatural, stardew valley and a lot lot lot lot more but those are the mains.

i have recently discovered i have a proclivity towards tickling. if you find it strange so do i. but i will be using this space to explore it. thank you and have an amazing day 💗

I just want you to know who I am

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Spencer Reid, The BAU

Anonymous said: Spencer cracks the identity of a “serial tickler” and has to come to terms with his own hidden love of tickling.

A/N: This was fun! It was fun writing about a case like this again but from Spencer’s POV this time. I hope you like it!

Warnings: An UnSub who breaks into people’s homes and ties them up to non-consensually tickle them, but this one’s super ungraphic and mostly just fluff tbh.

Words: 7.4k

(Read it on ao3)

Spencer was squinting at the board, which was poorly illuminated now due to the descending sun. He probably should have turned on a light, but he’d been standing there for the past twenty minutes and refused to move. If he moved he might lose it, the little hint of something at the back of his mind. The board contained pictures of bodies, only this time they were all alive, tied up but alive. That was unusual, to have every single victim to interview. They weren’t even really hurt, only a little traumatized, but they all knew that talking to traumatized victims was almost harder than talking to mere witnesses who’d simply seen something out of the ordinary. Hell, even talking to family members was easier than to scratch open wounds that had barely had time to start healing.

He rubbed at his temple and sighed. This was hopeless.

“I can’t seem to find a connection between them at all,” he said when Gideon entered. “They’re all of different ages. Different socioeconomic backgrounds. Different skin colors, different body types, different types of people entirely. The only thing they seem to have in common is the fact that they live here in Quantico.”

“Take a break,” Gideon told him. “Let’s recoup in fifteen, okay?”

Spencer deflated. “Fine.”

“That’s not a punishment, Reid,” he replied with a laugh. “Have some coffee. Hotch and Morgan will be back soon.”

“Okay.”

Gideon tilted his head. “After you.”

“You’re no fun, you know that?”

Keep reading

they’re having fun together :))

Hii

Yep, commissions alert

Here the link for the Boosty also

If this is too much detail for a flash fic, please feel free to ignore this!! But I was thinking something where Spencer and Derek have to go undercover as a couple for something (maybe to a gay bar or something bc that’s where the unsub seems to be picking people up) and someone tries to flirt with Spencer and Derek starts to play the boyfriend act a little too well??👀

It wasn’t necessarily unusual, snaking his arm around Spencer, but Derek had to admit it felt strange to keep it there for longer. He wasn’t used to feeling the curve of his body moving as he swayed along to the music, maybe mostly because Derek himself was swaying and pulling him along with him. The bar was crowded, the music loud, and Derek knew Spencer would get overstimulated soon and so they tried to be quick about it. Only it was no easy task to hurry up a stake out, especially when they barely knew what they were looking for. It was pride month, so obviously the bar was spilling over with music and laughter and dancing bodies, all celebrating, all happy.

Derek gave Spencer’s side a squeeze. “Wanna dance?”

Reid turned to look at him, a deer caught in headlights. “Now?”

“Just for a moment. Scout the room out. Then we’ll know where it’s best to position us.” While all of it was true Derek had also suggested it because he wanted to see Spencer dance to techno, as one does. He was wearing a tight light blue relatively cropped shirt to Derek black net shirt. Maybe them being chosen to go undercover to a gay bar as a couple wasn’t as odd as Derek had first thought. Derek had the clubbing experience and Reid had the gay bar one, albeit on a much lower scale.

“Maybe we should get a drink first,” Spencer said, turning his body toward the bar. “Are we allowed to drink on the clock? Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should get sodas.”

Derek squeezed his side again, content when he felt the muscles tense up. “Come on, one dance.”

“Morgan, please-”

A drink as big as Spencer’s head was suddenly presented right in front of them, and when Morgan looked up a man looking much too smug was grinning at them from behind it. “I took the liberty of buying you a drink.” He all but forced it into Spencer’s hands. “I hope that’s okay,” he said, and Derek could’ve sworn he glanced over at him condescendingly for a second.

“Oh, I, uh-” Spencer looked at Derek, obviously panicked.

Derek was caught between amusement and annoyance. “He’s okay, thank you. He doesn’t drink.” He pulled Spencer closer and took the drink from him with his other hand. “Thanks for offering, though.”

“He doesn’t speak for himself?” The man raised an eyebrow at him. “Pity.”

“Of course he does,” Derek snapped. “But he makes a habit of not talking to creeps who barely introduce themselves. Move along now.”

“Big guy, huh? That your type?” He’d turned to Spencer again, looking angry now.

Spencer straightened. “My type is considerate and kind. So yes, you could say he is my type.”

The man huffed and left as quickly as he’d arrived, disappearing into the crowd to go creep on someone else. Maybe they should keep an eye on him.

Derek put the drink on a table close by, not trusting it to not be spiked. “You’re gonna make me blush, pretty boy.”

“Oh, shut up.” Spencer shoved him with his shoulder. “You got that overprotective jealous boyfriend act down to a T.”

“Is that so?” He squeezed Spencer’s side differently now, hitting all the right spots to make him jerk away, only he of course jerked into Derek and so he could do it again. “How about this? Is this boyfriend behavior?”

“Don’t-”

Spencer’s laughter got lost in the sound, and that simply wouldn’t do so Derek used his other hand to poke at his belly, hoping to throw him into that gentle panic that was enough to get him giggling. “There we go, pretty boy.”

Spencer twisted out of his grip, palms up and facing him. “Come on, not here.”

“Not here, not at work, not on the jet, not in the car. When, exactly, am I supposed to do this?”

“We’re working.”

Derek huffed. “Fine. I’m breaking into your apartment later then. Finish my boyfriend duties. Not like that,” he added with a laugh at Spencer’s expression. “You need to buy me dinner first.”

it’s not so bad here

fandom: criminal minds

w/c: 2155

pairing: platonic BAU (mostly prentiss and morgan), spencer reid

summary: perspective of spencer: on the jet ride home after a long case. The team is so tired they get a lil silly. fluff + minimum angst I mean it is spencer’s brain.

a/n: this is quite literally my first time for everything, my first time using tumblr and my first ever fanfiction. i had a lot of fun so perhaps expect more maybe?? I want to thank the amazing @nhasablogg for being the biggest inspiration and just so cool honestly. they helped a lot with this work and have just been the kindest person ever!!! anyway pls read the following with all this☝️in mind.

~~~~~~

Spencer never really got used to flying. The team was currently thirty-six-thousand-eight-hundred-sixty-four feet above what Spencer assumed (or more accurately, calculated) would be Tennessee based on flight patterns from Dallas to Quantico and the amount of time they’ve been in air for. Which was roughly three hours, forty-five minutes, six seconds. Seven. Eight. They had about three more hours to go.

The pressure was building in Spencer’s ears and he grimaced, swallowing hard in an attempt to pop them. He always felt a pang of anxiety whenever any pain came to his head, as his memory would replay his mother’s cries for relief during bad episodes.

There was one night when Spencer was eleven, experiencing his first true migraine after finishing his college applications. It was one of the few times Spencer remembered his mother taking care of him instead of the other way around, she was almost completely lucid. His fear was much stronger then, and while he was a boy-genius, his brain was still biologically too immature to handle it.

“I’m dying, mom.” The corners of his eyes wet with tears. His mother smiled at him. It wasn’t often that Spencer behaved his age like this.

“No baby, your head is just too full, and your skull is too small to contain it. The pain is just your head expanding, working to grow and stay ahead of your thoughts.”

“Actually, your brain can’t be too big for your skull. There’s just a blood vessel swelling, and that’s putting pressure on the surrounding nerves which is making the muscles around my skull tighten and causing…” he groaned in frustrated pain. His mother stroked his hair soothingly.

“Would you listen to your mother for once, Spencer? Just go to sleep, you can’t feel the world in your sleep, you know. Go somewhere other than this reality, where your head isn’t constantly working. Relieve some of that pressure... It’s too stressful here, isn’t it?” A far too familiar distant look crossed her eyes for a moment. He rushed to retrieve her.

“Mom.. would you stay with me tonight?”

She returned her son’s gaze. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

His pain seeped out with every stroke, as if his mother’s fingers were magically sucking it out from his skin. As he fell asleep, he found that she was right. He didn’t feel anything. It was like traveling through time.

—————

The case in Texas was particularly rough. Over the past five days, the team got maybe a total of eight hours of rest each. And as far as successes go, they’ve gotten better wins. As a headache creeped up on Spencer, he kicked off his shoes and curled up on the jet couch for a nap. He fell asleep pretty quickly, ready to skip through the headache until he was in Virginia again.

But a funny sensation on his right foot caused his leg to jerk in. I thought I couldn’t feel the world in my sleep. He stirred to see Prentiss standing at the end of the couch.

“I like your socks, Reid.” She said, before wiggling her fingers over his left pink-and-purple striped sock.

“Hey!” He pulled his other leg in and smushed it against the cushion to smother the feeling. He checked his watch, the jet couldn’t be landing already? “What’d you wake me up for?”

“I couldn’t help myself. Purple’s my favorite color.” She grinned at his reaction, before it faded into a frown. “Hang on, now that you’re up though, how come you always get the full couch to sleep on?” Morgan leaned over from his seat, invested in the conversation.

“Thank you. I’ve been meaning to say something about that bull.” He craned his neck, exaggerating the pain of sleeping upright.

“Reid is the youngest,” Hotch said from out of nowhere, neither against him nor in his defense. Spencer hadn’t even noticed him watching. Had they all been watching him sleep? Rossi continued for Hotch, “I suppose he assumed he got first rights to the couch for being born last. And you all let him.”

Hotch went back to the paperwork in his lap, diligent even while running on no sleep. “No, what about Ashley Seaver? She was younger than Reid,” he said. Definitely against him.

“And he still took the couch. Like a gentleman,” said Rossi.

Suddenly, Spencer felt very ganged up on.

“Is that right?” Morgan squinted at Spencer as if he stole something precious from him.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Prentiss said. “We can’t let him get away with this anymore.”

At first, he was confused by the rare playfulness of his coworkers, especially from Hotch adding to the banter after the crazy, long week. Then he realized; everyone was sleep deprived and filled with a goofy, delirious energy. And while they weren’t able to catch the unsub, they were able to return a young girl back to her family - traumatized, but albeit unharmed - something they saw far too little of. The feeling left everyone more fuzzy than anything, it outweighed the disappointment of losing the unsub. Reuniting a family always strengthened his own, Spencer thought. Perhaps that fuzziness and fatigue was expunging all the professionalism they maintained while the case was ongoing.

And now Spencer - who was just sleeping soundly on the couch that everyone was hungry for - was beginning to feel that fuzziness himself. He faced his back towards his team as he pulled his cover up to his chin and closed his eyes.

“If you wanted it, you should’ve gotten to it first.”

At that, he heard Morgan rise and make his way toward the couch. The blanket was ripped off him dramatically. He kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth to snore lightly. His snore lasted half a second before the sound was abruptly cut off, immediately snapping his mouth shut in a toothy grimace and slamming his elbow down to his side.

“Get your ass up, Reid,”

“No.” He buried his face into the back of the couch, trying to hide his smile as if the way his elbow followed each of Morgan’s delivered pokes didn’t give him away. Reid stiffened a bit more, he focused on schooling his reactions and moving less. If he started laughing, there was no way they would stop, probably even after he gave up what they wanted.

“C‘mon, it’s time to wake up.” His resolve began to crumble when Morgan tasered both sides of his ribs. “Share with the rest of us.”

“Ahhh-ha! Stop!” He huffed out a laugh before holding his breath to stop himself. His face quickly flushed as he wiggled on the couch.

“You know, everyone else sits during the whole flight. As a courtesy to the rest of the team. Except for you-” He accentuated by digging into his ribs again, causing another yelp and laugh to slip. “-who’s just sleeping here like a baby. What’s up with that?”

“Derek-“

“Hmm?”

He couldn’t speak.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Reid? You’re not ticklish, are you?” Prentiss cooed as if nobody could tell he would be just by looking at him.

That’s all it took to crack him. Once the hysterical laughter began he couldn’t stop it. Like a defense mechanism, his brain started working in overdrive to apply logic to best overcome this assault. It took no time to figure out he could never physically stop Morgan; in terms of strength he was far outmatched.

Well, tickling is essentially the body’s response to unpredictable stimuli, so theoretically he could dull the sensations by predicting the attacks. He could trick his brain into believing he was tickling himself. He applied it in a fraction of a second.

All he did was swat at Morgan’s hands in an awkwardly gentle manner, unable to take hold of them. It really did absolutely nothing. Spencer wondered if he were one of the few who could tickle himself.

Before he could think of another solution, Prentiss grabbed one of his arms and hoisted it up above his head.

“No no no, wait wait doN’T-“

Being able to predict was proven a completely worthless tactic. Morgan tickled under his arm and he screamed. His ears finally popped and he could hear the sounds of his own bright laughter at its true pitch. His defense mechanism was shot, as if Morgan’s fingers were sucking out any ability to form a useful thought.

“Oh my god, how’d an eagle get so high up here?” Prentiss teased before breaking down herself.

Spencer wailed and curled his legs in protectively. When that did nothing, he kicked and pulled down at his arm. When that did nothing, he fell back in a whiny giggle in an attempt to garner their sympathy. That did nothing but encourage them.

“Hotch!”

Hotch finished his note, glanced very briefly at his team before returning to his work with the slightest of smiles. Spencer felt betrayed. Supervisory special agent my AAHHAA-

“Oh oh, what’s going on? It sounds like fun, let me see,” JJ turned the laptop over to show Garcia what was happening: Spencer flopping red in the face with Morgan practically sitting on him, Prentiss crouching - legs wobbly from her own laughter - behind Spencer’s head, still holding onto his arm.

“Oh geez, Spencer. How did I not know you were ticklish! Because of course you are. What did he do to deserve this? Did he cheat at Go Fish again?”

Upon seeing Garcia’s grin and his own disheveled form mirrored back at him, Spencer felt embarrassed. If anyone was going to make this a recurring experience, it would be her. He wasn’t totally against the idea, which made him blush furiously harder.

“Okay, okayokay! Y-you can have the couch. I don’t want it. I don’t want it!” Prentiss let go and Spencer squirmed out of Morgan’s grasp, falling to the floor of the jet. He stayed there catching his breath in high-pitched giggles, bewildered by what just happened. He wiped his eyes and looked up at Hotch and Rossi, who stared down at him with immense amusement.

“Thanks for the help guys,” he exhaled, exhausted. They both shook their heads with fond smiles.

“I trusted my agents could handle an internal conflict on their own,” Hotch said.

“You mean manhandle..”

He looked to Morgan, who was settling comfortably on the couch with Reid’s blanket, Prentiss cuddling next to him. He rubbed his sides and looked down at the ground, defeated.

“There’s plenty of room for all of us, big guy,” Prentiss offered her hand, inviting him to the couch. Spencer took it with a smile and sat down awkwardly with his hands resting on his thighs. She draped the blanket over the three of them.

“I’m sorry for being a couch hog.”

“I’m sure you are,” Prentiss snickered.

“It’s alright, Reid, you seem like you always need the sleep. We were just having fun. Did we go too far?” Morgan asked sincerely, arm around Emily and hand on Reid’s shoulder.

“Nah.. I-I had fun too. I mean, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while. I don’t think you guys have either actually.”

“Yeah, well, you did look really funny.” Prentiss said.

Spencer nudged her with a smile, earning him a poke which he quickly followed with a soft noooo don’t.

Morgan scratched the side of his head, mostly to teasingly get his attention. But it felt nice. “Start preparing for a lot more of that.”

“Hmm.. my mom used to do this for me.”

“Tickle you?”

“Uh, no. Stroke my hair. Whenever I got a bad headache, she would tell me to sleep, and then she would pet me until I did.”

“Do you have a headache now?”

“Earlier, a little.”

Without saying any more, Morgan patted down his (now) short hair before stroking up and down soothingly.

“Like that?”

Spencer slumped over and began fake-snoring. Morgan withdrew his hand and sat up a little straighter, which immediately woke him back up “I’m kidding I’m kidding I’m kidding please just- keep doing what you were doing.” They returned to their original positions after Morgan shot him a warning look.

Prentiss rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned his own head back against the couch and allowed himself to relax. The reality of Emily being there with all of them suddenly hit him. Countless nights he begged for her death to be reversed, to be a hoax. To be replaced even. Back then he wished to go to another reality, somewhere without the pressure and the stress, somewhere he couldn’t feel the world. But now, how lucky was he for her to be returned, for her to be truly safe and sound and laughing with them again? He would rather be nowhere else.

He checked his watch, there was two hours left of the flight. The three of them fell asleep very quickly, but rather than try to skip through time, Spencer savored the moment.

I've been seeing this anew lately and I'm FERAL? The way Cas is laughing, genuinely laughing in a way we rarely see. And you can tell by their body language that they talk like this all the time (I would like to see it)

But what really kills me is Dean's face. He's so happy to be making Cas laugh like this, he looks so PROUD. You can see the anticipation in his expression as the joke's about to land, his body turned, watching Cas' reaction. Ugh they're so in love