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liaaacantwrite · 11 months ago

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the act of finding peace ; stardust

Spencer Reid x Autistic!BAU Reader

TLDR: Spencer helps Autistic!Reader navigate her feelings and doubts after an altercation at work - fluff - 2.7k words

Warnings: (not a warning but) both reader and Spencer are discussed as being autistic, autistic struggles discussed - primarily overstimulation and sensory issues but heavy feeling of otherness and being strange, swearing and mention of violence but no actual violence, police slander but am speakin facts because im just a brit

Notes: 2nd person, no y/n, fem reader. This fic is not intended to represent the struggles of every autistic person, it's just a reflection honestly of my own struggles and some common themes I see arise from my fellow spicy-brained besties.

You find water.

You’re not sure why.

When Hotch says you can take as long as you need, he probably wasn’t expecting you to leave the Iowa City Police Department, and he definitely wasn’t anticipating for you to walk fifteen minutes to gaze out at the river, sitting cross-legged on the grassy banks as you watch autumn leaves caress murky waves.

You find a slice in the shrubs right beside an old tree and seek comfort against the bark, watching the ripples without blockages.

The soft sounds of the afternoon swarm your mind, a welcome change to the chaos you had ran from.

You pluck grass and toy with it, wrapping it around your fingers, admiring tiny bugs clambering over their own little forest; ladybirds fluttering their wings, ants hunting for their next meal, worms basking in the cool dirt.

Perhaps it is all in the pursuit of peace. Is every act not an attempt at getting one step closer to the silence?

You’re not surprised when you see someone approaching from your peripheral.

Spencer trudges over, hands tucked into his pockets, lilac shirt sitting just a smidge too big on his frame but neatened by his purple tie – always so charming in purple. Shame does however brew in your already full heart and you fight the warmth chasing your face even as the weather offers you no reason to sweat at all.

Spencer settles beside you quietly - not even a grumble as his lanky body hits the ground.

After a second, he tears up grass too and plays with it.

“How’d you find me?” you ask.

“Uh…” he smirks, then reaches into his pocket and tugs out JJ’s phone, “JJ has you on FindMyiPhone. Turns out you really can’t be trusted on a night out, and after you – uh-,” he scoffs, “walked forty minutes away from them last New Year’s… this was apparently for your own good.”

Spencer tucks the phone away again then.

A weak smile navigates its way to your face at the memory.

“Yeah, I can be a little wanderer sometimes.” You mumble.

“I’ll say.” He glances around the scene you'd chosen to settle at, a soft smirk on his face.

Spencer tentatively reaches a hand across to your leg, which you shuffle closer to him as permission to touch you. His thumb strokes across your knee in soft, wave-like motions that match your breathing.

You wonder if he does it on purpose. You put nothing past this man.

Some more silence blossoms as you listen to the wind and the river. You forget about work until you don't.

“I suppose Hotch wants me back.” you murmur, jaw tightening.

“Uh, well…” he shrugs, “sort of, but… mainly, we just got worried about where you’d gone, hence the whole… tracker thing.”

For a while, you watch the stream.

You hear the city a short walk away, somehow softer now you’re surrounded by grass and greenery, and peer at people walking along Washington Avenue Bridge.

Spencer watches how each of your senses are lit up by some new stimuli - how easily your gaze flicks from one space to another, how the slightest sound captures your attention, how you observe the tiniest movement. Your sensory faculty is to be marvelled at, he thinks.

He wonders how you see the world. He wonders if he'll ever know.

Still, he settles his innate curiosity for your sake, and straightens up, biting back niceness for kindness.

“Things got a little tense in there, huh?” Spencer asks.

“You noticed?” you glance at him, then return to your stash of daisies.

“Well, yeah, but… I’ve always got an eye on you, so… I don’t think anyone else really saw anything.”

You nod.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to spare you any more embarrassment.

“I just… couldn’t think.” You say, “Like, there was just so much going on, and I was thinking about so much already… and… this officer just got all up in my face, and his cop buddies were there, asking me a-about what authority I had to tell them what to do, and I-I was like it’s an FBI case so we’re running it, and he was like, FBI? You look more like a librarian’s assistant, a-and I got all embarrassed and said if they had any issues then they should talk to Hotch, you know, cos I can’t really do anything about that, I-I’m just doing my job, so talk to Hotch, I said, and they were like, no, we wanna talk to you, and there were like five of them and…” you take a deep breath, “and I was like, I’ve told you… and they wouldn’t leave me alone, asking how I was in the FBI if I couldn’t even answer a simple question, and I said I answered their question, but they said i-it wasn't good enough, a-and so I started walking away and they followed me, and I just got – like – I don’t know, a-and I didn’t wanna call for Hotch, because I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle it, but I… I- and that’s when JJ came over, and… yeah, so… anyway…”

You sigh.

You deflate a little more.

Spencer's hand squeezes your knee and he shuffles a little closer to you.

“You seemed really upset.”

You know this.

Some feelings cling to your skin like a tar just beneath the surface – nobody can see it anymore, but you can feel it.

People who aren’t upset don’t typically make a B-line to somewhere they know they can be alone – in your case, you’d opted to return back to files as though you might have missed something but were instead trying to seem busy and occupied so that you could tame your expression to something more manageable. That’s when Hotch asked if you were alright, and you said yes, and he said you should go for a walk anyway for as long as you needed.

You worry you have always been transparent. You worry this is what's wrong with you.

“I’m okay.” you try.

“Hey,” he calls, almost assertive, “this is a – uh – safe place for your thoughts. You don’t have to… sugar-coat things because you don’t think I’d understand. I can’t exactly say I’m good with cops either.”

"I hate cops."

Spencer scoffs.

"I know."

"I hate solving crimes because there's always a cop."

Spencer laughs then, tongue in cheek as you talk.

"How do you propose we negate that?"

You go quiet as you legitimately ponder his question. When you've been silent for too long, Spencer realises you've definitely gone down an internal tangent about the whole thing, and he has to rope his wanderer back to the real world once again.

"It’s okay to feel however you wanna feel.” he calls a little smugly, summoning you from the depths of your world.

“It’s…”

You think some more, and Spencer waits patiently, like a dog at your door.

“They were very loud and mean, and I’m not mean.” You mumble, “People don't need to be mean to me, I've never understood it, an-and I don't know why they followed me. And there were a lot of them, and they were all looking at me funny.”

Your head softly cocks to the side as you follow waves coursing down the river.

“People always look at me funny. One of these days, I’ll have to make peace with that.”

Spencer sighs, and his hand reaches for yours, and you take it, holding it in your lap.

He’s warm. He’s firm. He holds you in the kind of way that’s very insistent in your of deserving it. You find comfort in the tightness of his grasp.

He knows all too well what you mean and how you feel.

It’s because of that he’s not sure how to comfort you, like you are two dinosaurs sixty-six million years ago watching a comet coming closer, closer, closer. All he can do is hold your hand and feel it too.

You have this, at least.

Even though it can feel very isolating at times, you know you are not alone.

“I…” you gulp, “I already have days where I feel like I’m not equipped for the job, I don’t need other people saying that too.”

“You are plenty equipped,” Spencer comforts, almost smiling at the ridiculousness of your statement, “you’re intelligent, you’re sensitive, you see patterns and connections, you’re creative.”

You fight your smile as the compliments pour out of him.

“Yeah, well... there's... so much else that just..." you shrug, "I can't touch certain things, I can't look people in the eye, I... don't understand how talking works; I don't get why people lie, I don't get why people are mean, I don't know why nobody else seems to get that - why we just accept that as being normal - I... maybe everyone's right." you try to calm yourself as your anxiousness swells, "You give me too much credit.”

Spencer tuts.

“You’re the one full of self-doubt – I’m balancing things out here.” He responds, “And, if you ask me, I’d say… they know that, too - about all your brilliance and smarts and your deserving. What kind of officer needs all his buddies as back-up to talk to one FBI agent? They know you’re above them. That’s all. They were trying to intimidate you. Anyway, studies show actually there are a lot of links between police officers and a ‘gang mentality’ such as militarisation and the ‘us-versus-them’ mindset putting officers at odds with the community they serve, as well as police solidarity and how larger groups of people can often enable their own sense of morality based on the social norm built in that microcosm - it's actually why police presence at protests is so controversial, because it enforces crowd and group dynamics and creates an enemy, as well as the aggressive policing tactics increasing the production of adrenaline, noradrenaline, and endorphins, triggering more hostile responses either side."

Even though you admire his knowledge, you sigh.

“Well… they did a good job…”

The heels of your shoes scrape through the dirt as you stretch your legs out.

“Sorry, I’ll stop moping.” you add.

“You’re not moping, you’re just feeling. And that’s okay.” Spencer replies, “You know… my mom used to say, whenever I was kind of… not feeling good about myself, or I’d had a bad day with other people, she’d say… Spencer, what kind of person makes other people feel like that? a-and I’d say, well, not very good people… and she’d say… then that’s not the kind of person you should give a damn about the opinion of.” He smirks a little, looking over at you, “Then she’d fix my glasses or brush my hair or something…”

He licks between his parted lips and his thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“And… believe it or not… I actually understand you – in some ways – better than I understand other people. It’s… sort of refreshing to… walk into a really loud, bright room, where everyone’s talking and everything’s moving and nothing makes sense, and… seeing that you’re feeling the same way. I probably shouldn’t feel like that, but…”

“No, I get it.” you say, “Least, if you’re weird, you’re not alone.”

“We see the world differently.”

Spencer isn’t sure he believes everything he says or if he’s making it up just to comfort you, but he knows you’d tell him the exact same if it were him who’d fled to the water for safety and quiet, and so tries to find some truth in that.

“Do you think it’s always gonna be this way?” you ask.

You watch waves disappear and track the flow of leaves along the current, how it’s broken the Earth with its forced track.

Spencer clenches your hand twice – a silent message – and gazes at your expression, softly smiling.

“We’ll get used to it.”

You have spent your life finding peace. You wonder when peace will find you.

“What would you say if it were me?” he asks, “Feeling like this.”

“I’d say fuck ‘em, you’re a million times better than they are so who cares? And also, give me names, I’m going in swinging.”

Spencer laughs. He knew you were still there just beneath the surface – your wit, your charm, your protective streak.

You take care of each other.

“I’m… trying to say the same with less profanity and violence…” Spencer smiles over at you, and you chuckle this time, meeting his gaze.

“You’re not one for either, are you?”

“I… no, I’m not.” He grins, “But you’ve got it down, why mess with perfection?”

You shrug.

“I’d never actually do anything, ‘m all talk.”

“Even better.”

“I’ll do it in my imagination.”

“Well, we do have much wider inner worlds.” He says.

“Yeah, I do get lost in my head sometimes.” You reply.

“I can tell. You’re constantly thinking.” His eyes narrow and he smiles still, dimples deep in his cheeks, “I’m always wondering what’s going on up there."

"Always?"

He nods, and his gaze shifts from yours to your temple, like he might spy right through to see your inner workings – colours, shapes, dreams, stories, concepts forming like stardust or fireflies rather than… wires and electrical pulses.

For a second, you think he has you all figured out. But he doesn't. You aren't sure if you should find comfort or terror in that.

Either way, it's all a bit much - Spencer has this uncanny knack for turning you into some bashful school girl.

“Profanity, mostly.” Your cheeks warm as you rasp.

“Hm… maybe, but… I think that’s just what you want me to think.” he says, "Not just wandering in the real world, but... wandering in there too."

Your eyes roll and you look back out to the water, letting out a deep, calming breath that slows your heart right down.

“I’ll just think about what the legendary Diana Reid said and try to be kinder to myself – cut myself some slack.” you say.

“Good. You should.” He says, “And… if you can’t be kind to yourself, then… think about how you’d be kind to someone else if they felt the way you did.”

“That’s good advice.” You beam.

"So..." he sighs, "don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing your best and you're doing it perfectly. There is not a cell or an atom I would change about you. And the people who really matter think the exact same thing."

Your inner warmth fights off the autumn wind.

You think peace is not something you find but is something you do.

"I love you..." you breathe softly.

"I love you too... and I understand you."

"I feel the same way about you, you know," you add gently, and Spencer's brows perk, "not a single strand of your DNA."

He takes your hand then, still entwined in his, and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“Do you wanna head back?” he asks, “I’ll get you a snack on the way if you say yes now.”

“Bribery.” You scowl.

“Incentive.” He corrects, flashing you a look, “Come on… you’re too good to be sitting in the dirt feeling bad about yourself, and I won’t let you rot in your brooding anymore. I love you too much to let you do that.”

He stumbles to a stand, your hand still in his, and he hoists you up to your feet despite your grumbling. Once you accept that you’re standing, legs taking your weight, Spencer kisses your forehead.

“Am I still hot even though I’ve spent an hour sulking?”

“I wouldn’t call it sulking, but yes, of course I still think you’re hot.”

You grin at him.

“Good.”

“I’m glad to see you have your priorities straight.”

He sighs, brows furrowing as he peers at you. He glances at your forehead once more – again, hoping he might understand you better – but comes up empty.

He settles for this.

He knows that indecipherable codes are not something to be discarded nor thought down upon, but to be cherished in the hope that, one day, genius-ness will be enough to understand them. And sometimes, those codes become legends because of their enigmatic nature.

"My little wanderer."

can i just say i turn into such a fucking wet wipe looking for spencer gifs to put at the end of my stories, you'd swear the man was jesus or like saved me from drowning one time #i have a fear of drowning

wanna go on record as saying every spencer reid fic i write has spencer canonically bi and autistic #may i approach the bench your honour

anyway i hope you enjoyed! ACAB!! <3

MASTERLIST HERE

okay, let's see. for more overwhelmed reader being comforted by spencer, feel free to check out tsunami (18+) and cannibal, and for more spencer and reader being the ultimate power couple and understanding each other, you may enjoy lobotomy and heaven-sent (also heaven-sent deserves way more love and i say that as its author, i know my girl is good)

not that i'm anticipating it but if anyone has any questions or whatever about some of the stuff i've discussed about my own spicy issues (or you just wanna vent and relate) feel free to message my inbox!!

thank you for reading!!!

inbox open for feedback, requests, and nonsense <3

lots of love feefee xx

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liaaacantwrite · 11 months ago

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Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: SMUT, fluff, MINORS DNI 18+

Word count:..... 12k...

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to lead you to his bed every night of the week.

Warnings: So many 💀, oral (M and F receiving), public sex multiple times, multiple creampies, protection never mentioned, fingering, car sex, alcohol consumption, pet names, degradation, sir kink I think at some point, choking, mentions of spit and other bodily fluids, I'm sure there are more, too.

A/N: Well. Here it is. Big thank you to Jungkook for releasing the song that gave me this fic idea that I was fully convinced was just going to be a nice little song about the number seven. Here's my masterlist, and my requests and asks are open if you want to shout at me for writing 12,000 words of filth! Settle down somewhere comfy for this one 💀 Song inspo:

Monday

The jet was calm and quiet with just the two of you on it as you stretched yourself out over the seats, desperate to find a comfortable position to curl up in and find some sleep. You had been out the entire weekend on a death-row interview, and after three days of dealing with high security prison inmates and their guards, you were feeling a bit restless. You hated the feeling of being cooped up in there, even if you knew you’d be getting out eventually.

You were just thankful that they’d sent you in the jet, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine driving back right now. And as your only company was Reid, who wasn’t a fan of driving himself, especially over such long distances, it would have been a crappy end to an even crappier weekend. You looked up at the man now, and realised he was also trying his best to fall asleep, but he had a tense look on his face, and he was shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable.

“Can’t sleep either?” you asked him, finally accepting that you probably weren’t going to get any relief any time soon. His eyes shot open, and he looked at you, finally registering that it was you that had spoken to him and not some figment of his imagination.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, and looked away, letting the silence fall over you again.

“Do you want to maybe play cards or something?” you asked hopefully, desperate to find something to do for the last hour of your flight. From everything you’d learned about the man opposite you in your six months as a member of the BAU, you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea challenging him. But between being absolutely destroyed at cards and being caught in the discomfort of exhaustion with no ability to sleep, you’d choose the card games any day.

Besides, you could do with learning a little bit more about your coworker anyway. Despite earning your place on the team, and befriending most of the others pretty easily, Reid had always seemed a bit standoffish to you. He was always polite, of course, but the others had warned you that he didn’t take well to change, and your addition to the team was a pretty notable change in your team dynamic.

You were now the youngest member of the team, and you’d been trained in press liaising as a part of your training at the academy, so you took on a different role from the others to allow JJ to get out into the field more now that she was officially an agent. It wasn’t that you thought he disliked you, it was just that he needed to get used to you. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

It was why you were on the jet in the first palace, having asked Hotch for the opportunity to shadow Reid while he was working on the interview. He’d given you a look when you lied that it was to gain more experience, but he didn’t have anything against you trying to get Reid to warm up to you a little bit more, so he didn’t complain, and let the two of you go. But you hadn’t realised just how busy you would be with the work, and you hadn’t exactly become the best of friends either.

“You don’t want to play cards with me, Y/N,” he replied coolly, not even looking at you.

“Emily said you usually try to swindle people when you first play cards with them, why aren’t you trying that with me?” you asked, growing a little frustrated that your attempts were being blocked. It’d been the same when you’d invited him out for a drink the night before, and when you’d asked if he wanted to share a takeout in your hotel room the night before that. Polite rejections and the feeling of incompetence that left you wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“You’re too innocent for me to swindle, Y/N. It’d be too easy.”

“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” As a last ditch attempt to get him to bite, you thought insulting him couldn’t possibly hurt.

“Shit, okay, one game, the cards are in the cupboard over there.” He acquiesced and nodded behind him to the small kitchenette at the end of the jet.

“Why do I have to grab them, you’re closer?” you pouted a little bit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away again.

“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he grumbled. Rolling your eyes you threw off the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself and stumbled over to grab the cards.

On your way back however, the plane lurched to the side and you stumbled, dropping the cards everywhere and falling straight into the lap of Doctor Spencer Reid. He tried to catch you in his arms, but you’re position made it difficult for him to help you further. Having fallen face first, your torso was now pressed into the seat next to him, the rest of your body bent over his knee as if he were getting ready to spank you any minute.

One of his hands was pinned under your body weight, and the other that had come out to steady you was gripping dangerously close to your chest, not exactly helping with the mental images you were already fighting.

“Shit, I’m sorry I think we hit some turbulence,” you winced and tried to standup, and he groaned at the loss of contact as you moved.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out the curse as you stood up, but you weren’t upright for long before your legs gave out underneath you, another lurch from the plane depositing you directly into his lap, your legs straddling either side of his and your chest pressed up against his. This closer position allowed you to feel more of him pressed against you, and your eyes widened in realisation.

“Fuck, Spencer are you hard right now?” You groaned from on top of him, stilled by the realisaton. He scowled at you, again, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long weekend, and I couldn’t…” he let out a frustrated sigh and you waited for him to continue, suddenly not so eager to get out of the embarrassing position.

“Have you been hard this entire time? Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to grab the playing cards, didn’t want me to see you like that, right?” you could hear the grin in your voice, and you knew you were being risky but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Shut up, Y/L/N, I really don’t need this right now,” he groaned out again, but made no move to push you off.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what you need right now.”

“Don’t fucking tease, Y/N, I’m serious. Let’s just pretend that this never happened, okay?” His mouth was saying one thing, but you were pretty sure from the hands that were gripping your hips now that he wasn’t exactly being the most honest with himself in that moment.

“What if I…. helped you out?” you whispered it out almost silently, and Reid’s eyes snapped open to look at you.

“Don’t joke with me right now, Y/N, it isn’t funny and it isn’t cute.”

“I’m not joking.” Your eyes locked and you didn’t say anything else, content to watch him wage a war in his own mind, curious about which side would win.

“Get on your knees,” he said eventually, and you did, climbing out of his lap and kneeling next to his seat, your heart-beating out of your chest now. “Good girl.”

The heat pooled between your legs with those words, and you let out a small whimper as he popped the button on his pants. He pulled out his dick and you stared at it in wonder. You could see the precum shining on his tip as he gave it a few preliminary pumps, his mouth open as he finally found some relief.

You slid your hands up his legs and rested them on his thighs, watching his face and ready to pounce on him the moment he gave you the word.

“Look at you, desperate little whore. You want to suck me off that bad, baby?” he crooned at you, and you found yourself unable to answer.

“Bet you’ve been trying to do this all weekend. Trying to get me back to that hotel room of yours, trying to get me to drink with you, when what you really wanted was for me to stuff my cock down your throat, right?”

It was taking all of your willpower to not just reach your tongue out and lick your way up his shaft, now, your body practically begging for you to touch him.

“Well, go ahead princess. Go ahead and show me what a needy little whore you are.” You waited for no further instruction, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and your tongue around the tip.

You played with it for a few seconds, giving him a few strokes while you waited to see his reactions. He grabbed a fist of your hair, making sure to push it away from your face so he could see exactly what you were doing at all times. With that, you started pushing your head down on more and more of him, seeing how far you could manage to get before hitting the back of your throat.

When you hit your max, you pulled off of him and did it again, starting to pick up pace as you worked your hands over the few inches that couldnt fit.

“Fuck that’s it, princess, just like that.” He moaned, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

You bobbed your head up and down on him now, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each noise he let out.

“Sucking me off right here on the jet, such a little slut, aren’t you?” he said down at you and you couldn’t help the moan you let out around his cock, the vibrations causing him to tighten his grip on your hair and hiss out a curse.

“That’s it keep going, just like that baby,” he whispered, his hand now starting to push you down a little further on his dick each time, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You knew he was getting close, and you were desperate to feel his cum down your throat.

“Fuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that keep going.” The muscles in his legs were tense under your hand as you pushed your head down right to the base of his cock, stretching yourself past your limits and breathing him in deeply. After that, it was only a few more seconds until you could feel the hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat.

You looked up at him through his orgasm, and you swore it was the best view you’d seen before in your life. His mouth was open in a moan, and the hand that wasn’t controlling your movements was raked through his own tousled locks.

Eventually, he pulled you off of him, and you swallowed the remaining cum still inside your mouth, going as far as to catch the few drops spilling out with your fingertips and delicately lick it off, knowing he was back to watching your every move.

He pulled you up to a standing position, his eyes still locked on yours, and you could see he was getting ready to give you another instruction, to use you again to find his own pleasure. Before he had the chance though, an announcement on the PA system had him jumping as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, sorry about that earlier turbulence folks. We’re about ten minutes out of Quantico, so we’re about to descend. You know the drill, seatbelts, please.” The pilot was off the line as quickly as he came on it, and you were left in silence once more.

Fumbling with his pants, Reid put himself together again before guiding you into your seat and taking up his place again in the seat opposite.

“I didn’t mean for it to end like this, shit we don’t have time for me to return the favor…” he seemed apologetic about that and you were finally snapped out of your daze.

“Reid, you really don’t have to do that… I just helped you out a little, is all.”

“No, I’m going to pay you back for this. I swear.” And there it was again, the pounding of your heart as he looked at you like that. You unintentionally clenched around nothing, your frustration almost doubling knowing there could’ve been more if you’d had more time.

“Feel free to say no, of course, but how do you feel about making this a regular thing?” you asked, your voice low, trying not to reveal how desperate you were to be under him right now, certain it would put him off.

“Like a… friends with benefits, thing?” He asked, his head perking up in curiosity.

“Yeah. If you want.” You gulped down. “Obviously, you can say no. We’re coworkers, so it could become weird, but it could also be really convenient to have someone on cases to help you out if you’re ever, you know…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he smiled at you.

“I know, I really want you to say yes,” you admitted then immediately cursed your lack of filter.

“Yes.” He said. And that was that.

Tuesday

To say that stepping off of the jet had bought you back down to reality would be an understatement. After parting from Spencer with a terse wave and a strained smile, you’d spent your entire commute home thinking you’d just fucked up in the most major way possible.

As far as you could tell, the man didn’t even like being in your company and was just okay with you being his coworker, and then you’d suggested you give him a blow job on government property? Yeah, you were insane. That was the only possible explanation.

Needless to say, you got no sleep that night. You could only imagine how shitty you looked dragging yourself into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and twitching like a rabbit that knew it was being followed by a wolf.

“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been through hell and back. I thought you and Reid only went for an inmate interview?” Emily questioned you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, it was okay,” you squeaked out, not quite adept at hiding your emotions just yet. “I just didn’t get much sleep is all. Shitty hotel beds, you know?” You smiled at her, and she nodded from experience.

“Oh, tell me about it, this one time I was sharing a room with JJ and the metal springs in the mattress we’re just sticking out the top. It’s a miracle these places make any money.”

“Well, they always have FBI Agents blasting through desperate for a room, I guess,” you joked with her half-heartedly, still feeling the tension in the room.

“What are you guys talking about?” He creeps up behind you to join the conversation, but you know it’s him. You turn around and finally get a look at him. Reid stood there, looking relaxed, with a small smirk on his face. His hands in his pants pockets, leaned back against Emily’s desk next to his, effectively cutting off your route to your own desk behind him.

“Y/N was telling me about the crappy motel you guys got lumped in this weekend. Bummer right?”

“I don’t know, I slept just fine. You do look a little tense, Y/N,” he looked at you again, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot at him. He was messing with you. The fucker was actually messing with you.

“I must’ve just pulled the short straw.” You send him a strained smile, trying to end the conversation there.

“You should’ve said something about it on the jet, I would’ve let you rest instead.” You freeze then. Surely he wasn’t going to reveal to the entire office, or at least to Emily, what the two of you did on the jet.

“You didn’t have to play cards with me, you know. I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with me. I have pretty good stamina.” This time you didn’t hold back and you did shoot daggers at him, which only achieved bringing him one step closer to laughter.

“Ooh, rookie mistake. Don’t play with Reid, Y/N, he’ll take you for all you’re worth.” Emily shot back before making her way to the kitchen area, content with the advice she had given.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumbled, eyes still locked with Reid’s as you made to push past him. His hand brushed yours as you did, and you almost jumped at the contact. God, why was he doing this to you. Up until yesterday, he hadn’t ever bothered to even look in your direction, and now he was making you dizzy at work and you didn’t know how to deal with it.

The rest of the day you did your best to ignore him, and you really had to try. Everytime you went to grab yourself another drink, he’d trail along behind you, leaving you to make a U-turn to ask Morgan or Prentiss questions instead. If you went to get some files, he’d do the same, and you found yourself grabbing the wrong files in your haste to avoid talking to him again.

It was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and you knew that eventually he would catch up to you, and then you would have to come face to face with the man who had consumed your thoughts for the last 24 hours. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if it was dread you were feeling or anticipation.

In the end, he resorted to a more direct method that you couldn’t ignore.

“Hey, Y/N, I need to discuss some of the files from this weekends interview, do you have five minutes?” he said it loud enough for those around you to hear, so there was no escape. You took a deep breath and acquiesced,

“Great, let’s go grab the files and we can get started.” From all your self-defence training, you knew you should never let your assailant get you to a secondary location, but with him, you knew there was no escape. You let him guide you to the storage room, not even bothering to make small talk on the way down.

The door wasn’t even closed before he turned on you and started talking.

“If yesterday was bad for you, then we don’t have to ever do it again, but if you keep ignoring me like that, they’re going to realise that something is wrong.”

“Take a second to think about why I’m ignoring you, Reid. You’ve practically been on top of me all day, I can’t think when you’re around and I have work to do,” you whisper shout at him, even though theres no one in the file room he’s pulled you into.

“I wasn’t on top of you, I’d have enjoyed it very much had I been on top of you. Instead, I’ve been trailing behind you because you won’t talk to me.” He replied, shoulders lifting to his ears in his defense.

“Do you not want to do this anymore?” he asked you and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. He was giving you an out. You logically knew that you should take it, push down whatever it was you were feeling and pretend like yesterday had never happened. But all thoughts of doing just that left your head as he moved one step closer to you.

“Spencer…” you whispered into the room, as he moved closer still, eventually coming to cage you in against the wall.

“Do you really not want me to repay you?” he moved his hands down your body, a ghost of a touch really, not at all enough for what you wanted and getting nowhere near where you needed.

“Spencer, we shouldn’t be doing this at work. What if someone comes down here?”

“Doing what? I’m just asking you a question.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you again him, and you could feel the length of him against your stomach. “And besides, that didn’t matter to you yesterday.”

“Fuck, Spencer…” you groaned out, screwing your eyes shut. He trailed his hands further still and they finally found your ass over your skirt.

“I felt just as unsure about this earlier, you know. Thought it was going to create a weird tension in the office. Then you walked in this morning, wearing this skirt and suddenly I didn’t care. Just needed to have you.” He pulls your leg up, pressing his in between your thighs before you can think of closing your legs in modesty.

“I just want to feel you, will you let me do that?” He whispers against your skin and you whimper as his lips ghost over you.

“Yes, yes Spencer, please…” your brain shuts off and you give in, and suddenly he has your skirt around your waist and you tights and panties aorund your ankles in what seems like only a flash of a second.

“So fucking perfect and obedient for me, aren’t you, pet?” You whimper as he trails a finger along your sensitive clit, and you twitch as he begins his movements, rubbing slow circles into you.

“Fuck, look at you, clenching around nothing. I was just going to come in here and make you cum on my fingers but you’re begging to be filled, aren’t you, Princess?” He murmurs finally pushing on finger into you as he continues to to rub your clit with his thumb. You bury your head into his shoulder and try your best to muffle the disgusting moans dripping from your mouth as you plead with your coworker.

“What was that, pet? You’re going to have to say it a bit louder, I can’t hear you?” He picks up his pace and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your face.

“Fuck me. Please, Reid.” Not removing his hand from between your legs, he unbuttons his pants and you see his cock again for the second time in two days. You can’t believe you managed to get the entire thing down your throat yesterday. You stare at him with lust-clouded eyes, begging him silently.

“I haven’t got a condom, princess. Are you on the pill?” He asks, giving himself a few terse strokes, too far from your reach to help out. You nod vigorously, unable to form actual words now and not trusting yourself to keep quiet as your anticipation builds.

“Perfect baby, now relax and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He gently pulled his hand away from your core, quickly replacing it with his pulsating cock, pushing in slowly and deep.

“So tight for me, baby, you feel amazing.” He pauses for a second to allow you to adjust to his size, but all too soon he’s hammering into you, not caring to control his speed or his strength, just using you like he’s a man delirious with lust and you love it.

You clutch his shirt, and with each and every thrust you scream a little bit, unable to hold yourself back from the pleasure thats ripping through you. You’re making so much noise that after a few minutes, he brings a hand to your mouth, closing it over you and effectively cutting off any noises you make from escaping.

“You need to be quiet, honey, as much as I want to hear you, we don’t need anyone to come around here asking questions.” But you’re too far gone to care, your judgement too clouded, your head and body too full of him and what he’s doing to you to care at all who knows about it. You know he’s right, but you just keep moaning into his hand until finally, your body can’t take the stimulation anymore and you feel yourself tip over the edge, tightening around him as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He says and you use what feels like the last of your strength to nod as you feel him shoot his load inside of you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay joined there, but the post-sex clarity hits you like a tonne of bricks again as he pulls out and you genuinely start questioning your sanity as he cleans you up and pulls your panties back up into the right position.

“Shit Spencer, we can’t do that again,” you say. “What if someone had caught us?”

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t just turned on by the very thought of that happening,” he shot back. “But yes, we’re going to need some rules if we’re going to keep this up.” You nod at him, and the two of you make for the exit of the room, aware that you’d already been away for suspiciously long.

Luckily, your teammates are all too busy to notice that neither of you return with the files you went to look for.

Wednesday

The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but you were tired so it took you a few minutes to cross your apartment to reach the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to greet you there at 9pm on a wednesday evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t Spencer Reid, looking a little damp from the rain.

“I’m glad you’re home. I thought you would be considering you told Penelope you had no plans when you left earlier, but there was always the possibility that you wouldn’t be and then I would be stuck out here in the rain again and I wouldn’t get to see you and I really needed to see you.” He got the jumble of words out as quickly as he could, not even leaving you enough time to say hello before he was rambling.

“Spencer, slow down. What are you doing here?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Truthfully, you’d spent the last half an hour doing your best not to fall asleep on your couch as you tried to get some reading in, so you weren't exactly the best prepared for guests. You’d rid yourself of your work clothes as soon as you reached your house, the discarded clothes still laying in a pile in your bedroom, and you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt you’d bought a few years ago that was becoming a bit threadbare with constant use.

“I thought we could talk.” He said and offered no further explanation. It was cold and you wrapped your arms around yourself, but the door was letting in the cold breeze that accompanied the rain so you moved aside and gestured for him to make himself at home.

He took stock of your apartment as he walked in and you felt so exposed as he started taking everything in. He was a profiler, a really good one at that, and he was looking now at your bookshelves, the pictures around your apartment, the little trinkets you’d collected over the years. You should have been squirming under the surveillance of it all, but you almost wanted to show him around, talk him through it all and show you every part of you that he hadn’t seen yet. God, you must’ve been crazy.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked, returning to your seat on your couch and gesturing for Reid to sit down, too. He took up a chair on the opposite side of the room, sitting only on the edge of the seat, body tense and shoulders set in a tight line.

“Us. I thought it’d be best if we set some… ground rules you know. After yesterday and the jet…” you sat up then, too and tried not to avoid looking at the mirror you knew was on your shelf, knowing that all you’d see was the crimson staining your face and wondering what he would learn from that.

“Yeah… Yeah of course, we should talk about that. That sounds… smart, I think.”

“I did some research, and apparently we should start with setting boundaries. Things we won’t do, things that would make this easier for us.”

“Right, what kind of… boundaries were you thinking?” Your heart was beating out of your chest waiting for him to continue. The sex between you was so easy that you forgot that neither of you was the best at communicating with the other, that your brain seemed to switch off in his presence and refused to turn itself back on until you’d ended up underneath him.

“There are certain things I won’t do in the bedroom. I don’t like being choked and I don’t…” he trailed off, his face going bright red, “I don’t like not being in control.” He finally finished, looking very shy for a man who just admitted that he took an exclusively dominant role in the bedroom.

“That’s fine with me. Just for the sake of transparency, I’m okay with that. Choking that is. And not being dominant.” You tripped over your words, trying to convey your meaning.

“Great, that’s totally great.” You sat there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Is there anything you won’t do?”

“Oh right,” you thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him your reply. “As exciting as that was yesterday, I think we shouldn’t be doing that in the office again. I’m not… against public sex, but I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency by one of our colleagues.”

He nodded vigorously and looked like he was about to say something else, but you continued.

“Other than that, I’m pretty open. No threesomes though,” You blushed, trying to find the right words to use. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t really want to share you.”

“That’s a good point. We should be exclusive for however long we do this for. The increased risk of attaining a sexually transmitted disease when actively engaging with two or more sexual partners is around 11%, so it’d be safer for us both to just use each other.”

The way he said it was so clinical that you almost flinched, but he didn’t notice your reaction and kept going.

“Is that everything? No other objections?” You thought on his question for a few minutes, and then shook your head.

“Nothing I can think of, but maybe we should keep checking in? Just in case, you know.”

“Yeah, communication is really important in relationships.” He paused for a second, as if realising what he said. “Not that this is a relationship, in the traditional sense, but every human connection can be described as a relationship, so I guess this is a relationship as well. You know what I mean.” You laughed a little at him then, his over-explaination relaxing you a bit, glad you weren’t the only one who was finding this situation unavoidably awkward.

“Spencer, calm down, I understand. Is that all you wanted to discuss?” You look at him with a smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs on the couch, finally falling back into a comfortable position. His eyes trailed down to your legs then, finally taking in your appearance. He raked his eyes up your bare legs, your t-shirt barely hitting the tops of your thighs, his gaze lingering there for a few seconds before he forced himself to meet your eyes again.

“I never did get to pay you back for your help, you know?” He licked his lips, and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation. If this was how you reacted to a simple question, you were well and truly fucked if you thought you’d ever be able to function correctly with him around.

“I said you didn’t have to, remember?” You tried to keep your voice even and low, but your body was alert in anticipation now

“But I want to. Will you let me?” He asked, finally moving himself off of the chair and walking over to you. He knelt at your feet and ran his hands up your still crossed legs, grabbing them and gently coaxing them open.

“Please, princess, let me show you my appreciation.” he begged you and you nodded, giving in so easily to his pleas.

“Use your words.” He said, still letting you know who was in control of this situation, even if he was below you right now.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, you can do it.” His hands were trailing up the inside of your leg now, sending goosebumps up your arms, and growing the pit of desire that was burning for him.

“Do what? You need to tell me exactly what you want, right princess? Isn’t that what we discussed?” He placed a chaste kiss to your knee now and your body was begging you to just twine your hands in his hair and press him between your legs.

“Spencer, please use your tongue and make me cum,” you begged him, and his hands instantly moved to pull your panties down. Once he’d rid you of the garments, he hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you into him, spreading your legs apart and finally looking at you.

“This wet for me already, princess?” he smiled up at you, a devastatingly sweet smile from his devilish position. You whimpered slightly and he finally, finally lowered his head, extending his tongue and taking his first swipe at your core.

You grabbed at his hair then, but he pulled away, grabbed your hands and pinned them at either side at you with his own and then went down again, beginning to lick and suck at your centre once more.

When he reached your centre, it was all you could do not to buck up into his face, involuntarily fighting his grip so you could get closer still to his tongue, feel even more friction as he drew small circles, before closing his entire mouth around it and giving you all the attention you had been craving since your interruption two days ago.

You knew from your experience in the file room that Spencer was somewhat naturally gifted in the bedroom, but you put that mostly down to the fact that he was a good size and had pretty notable stamina. But now you realised he was probably the best you were ever going to get. Most men you’d been with hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea of giving you head, let alone begged you for the opportunity and then drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert and he was a man parched with thirst.

You writhed and moaned into him, feeling your orgasm gain on you as you felt his pace pick up. Looking down at him and catching his eye was the last thing you could do before your eyes rolled back in pleasure, the smile in his eyes so bright, enjoying having you on his tongue so much that you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He didn’t pull off of you immediately, letting you ride his face through your orgasm, your thighs squeazing him slightly before he let go of his grip on your hands and pulled himself away from you. You gasped for breath on the sofa, still softly twitching in pleasure, as he lifted himself off the ground.

“You did so good, princess,” he said patting your head, and you became instantly aware of the painful erection he was sporting through his pants, face to face with it now he was standing up. You opened your mouth, readying yourself to ask for more of him when you heard a phone ring from the other side of the room.

You didn’t recognise the ringtone, but it seemed like Reid did, as he dropped a curse and quickly moved himself back to the chair he’d previously occupied and picked it up quickly.

“Hotch, what is it?” Spencer murmured into the line, and with that you knew you weren’t getting anything else that night. After a short conversation, Reid hung up, and turned to you again.

“We’ve got a case. You’ll probably get the call in a few minutes. We didn’t discuss this earlier, but it’s best if no one else finds out about this.” He said, gathering all of his things, as you covered yourself again. You made to pull your panties up your legs again, but he got to them first.

“No, these are mine now.” He said, so confidently that you just nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and did your best to not pull him back over you again. You were seriously contemplating it, seeing how quickly you could make him cum when another phone rang, and you recognised it as your own.

He petted your hair again, grabbed the last of his things and stuffed your panties inside of his jacket pocket, and said a final goodnight, leaving you to answer the phone alone in your apartment. You sat there subdued in the moment as you realised you were in love with the man, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

You were in love with him, and he hadn’t even once kissed you.

Thursday

Alaska. The case had taken you all the way to Alaska, and you were suddenly desperate to get back to the rain you’d left behind in Virginia. You were cold and the wetness had seeped into your body from the day traipsing around the dumpsite of your newest unsub and your motel room was cold and you were miserable.

Your motel was small, but still large enough to afford each of you your own room, considering there was no one else passing through town at this time of the year, so you didn’t feel bad about turning your light back on at 2am and grabbing the book off your nightstand, hoping it would help lull you to sleep.

Not even five words into the page, a quiet knock interrupted the unending quiet, faint but recognisable from when he’d knocked on your door only the previous night. Your heart raced as you moved to the door and you opened it for him quickly.

“Hi,” you said as you saw him there, looking just as cold as you felt.

“Hey. My room was cold, and I saw your light on…” he whispered, letting his voice trail off. You opened the door for him and he came in quickly, not waiting to risk anyone seeing the two of you, even if it was the middle of the night.

“Yeah, it’s not just you. I’m one cool draft away from piling all of my luggage over me and hoping it helps me warm up. You’d think they’d have extra blankets or something.”

“Oh, I’m sure they did, I saw Prentiss walking up to her room with a pile earlier,” he laughed and you laughed with him, his smile infectious and the temperature leaving you deliriously sleepy.

“You know, we could probably get warm if we got in together,” he suggested, and before he could explain the science behind it, you jumped at the idea.

“Yes, please, I’m willing to try anything right now.” You dove back under the covers, still wrapped in your fluffy pajamas, lifting up the covers to let him under too. He climbed in after you, and for a second you were wondering if he was just going to lie beside you for a while and then leave when he was warm enough. He quashed those thoughts the second he put his head on the pillow next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as if you were a teddy bear.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as his breath tickled the back of your neck, huddling closer into him until your legs were tangled and your chests were flush against each other.

“Stop giggling and get some sleep,” he whispered down at you through a smile, his eyes closed, unaware of the look of adoration you couldn’t wipe from your face.

“You know if we really wanted to huddle for warmth, skin-to-skin contact would be much more effective,” you teased him, and he groaned into you, gripping you that much tighter.

“Do not tempt me, Y/N. It’s 2am and we’re working a case, we need some sleep,” he whispered down at you, but you were enjoying teasing him, so you continued, unrelenting.

“It didn’t take us very long any of the other times, Spencer,” you burrowed your head into his neck so he couldn’t see you as you knew he was about to react to your challenge.

“You’re a brat, you know that right?” he sighed, looking down at the top of your head and waiting for you to meet his eyes, but you just nodded into him, and he rolled his eyes and fell back into a comfortable position, but the insinuation in your words stuck to him. You felt him shift next to you, and started slowly trailing your hand down his chest.

“Unless you really want to be working this case tomorrow on one hour of sleep, I’d suggest you stop this before you can’t anymore,” he growled into your ear.

“I think I’ll take my chances, you say, your hand finally reaching his waistband and snapping it against his skin once, showing him exactly what it was you wanted. He grabbed your hands to stop your movements, but from the way he shifted his weight, you could feel that he’d already taken your words to heart.

“So fucking desperate for it, can’t even leave you alone for twenty-four hours before you’re sticking your hands in my pants, huh, princess?” His voice was a low grumble in your ear, and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was back.

“Well, I’m tired tonight, so how about you show me just how much you want this?” He rolled you over, still pinning your hands with one of his larger ones, and started rolling your pajamas down your legs, just enough to access your pussy.

“Touch yourself, baby, get yourself ready for me,” he let go of your hands now and even in the dark you knew he would be watching your every movement. Lying on your side, you moved one hand down to your clit, beginning to rub slow circles into yourself, letting little gasps and moans escape from your mouth for his benefit.

After a few minutes of touching yourself, getting yourself ready, you reached behind you to Reid’s crotch, fumbling for a second before finally grabbing his dick through his pajamas. He didn’t make a sound in protest, so you continued, stroking his half hard dick until he was fully erect for you.

You gathered some of your wetness on your fingers and pushed two of them inside your pussy, stretching yourself out, beginning to synchronise your two hands so you’d both feel the pleasure together. Spencer was still frustratingly silent, not even moving further than he needed to to allow you better access. Desperate for his attention, you decide to tease him a little bit.

“Do you like that, sir?” You feel his dick twitch in your hand, and throwing a glance over your shoulder, you can see that his jaw is clenched. You panic for a second, thinking maybe he wasn’t into the pet name you’d just dropped from your lips, but he finally responds.

“You just keep working hard to make me happy, princess, okay?” He says and you grin in triumph.

“Yes, sir.” You respond. Instead of picking up your pace, you decide you’ve gone long enough without him inside you so you release him and pull your fingers out of your pussy, licking your juices off your fingers. You push your ass back into position again, lining his tip up with your core as you reach behind you to grab the base of his dick and finally feel him enter you.

Unlike the first time he’d been in you, you didn’t want this to end fast. You wanted to feel him filling you up forever, hold him inside of you. You started thrusting back in torurously slow movements, letting him get so far out of you that he feared he was going to fall out and then pushing yourself back on so deep there was nowhere else he could go.

Refusing to pick up the pace, you continue your movements for the next few minutes, but you feel him growing restless beside you. He lets out little hisses each time he feels the cold on his skin, and he’s breathing deeply, hands bawled into the sheets so he doesn’t touch you like he promised he wouldn’t.

But this feels too much like giving you control, so he starts talking to you again, trying to tease more movement out of you.

“So content to be filled with my cock, huh, baby? You want to savor it, right?” You whimper at every question, the feeling of him inside you and his gravelly voice driving you insane.

“Such a little whore, using my dick to get off when you should be sleeping.” Your pace increased after that, your body desperate to show him how eager you were to be taking all of him inside you.

“Oh? Thought you wanted to keep it slow tonight, slut, you’re getting sloppier.” You were pushing back fervently now, desperate for release, begging him for more and more until you couldn’t take it. Reaching back, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it over your breast, silently begging him to take control.

“Should I give my little whore what she wants?” You simply moaned in reply, unable to do anything else. But that was all he needed and he started matching your thrusts with his own, forcing your pace to increase until your vision was blurry with need.

You were hanging on by a thread now, his fingers rolling the nipple of the breast in his hand around, pinching it hard every few strokes.

“Spencer, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, please, please, please…” you had no idea what you were begging him for, but it seemed like he did, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it. You have my permission.” Once again, you came undone in his arms, and he wasn’t far behind. You fell asleep there in his arms, not even bothering to clean yourself off or make him pull out, just the two of you holding each other on a cold night.

When you woke up, he was gone, and even though you knew it was what was best, you still felt a little crack in your heart start to form.

Friday

It had been over a week since Spencer had sneaked into your room in Alaska and he hadn’t touched you since. With the case in full swing, you hadn’t had the time to sneak off together, and the hotel had since fixed their heating system after a few timely complaints from Rossi and Prentiss, so you had no excuses to gravitate to each other either.

You were back from Alaska now though, and stuffed into a booth at your favorite bar with your team for a post-case celebration. The booth was round, and you were stuck in the middle with nowhere to move, flanked on either side by Morgan and JJ, who respectively had Reid and Prentiss on either side of them, Garcia, currently at the bar, rounding out the bunch.

“Okay, one round of shots for my favorite team of Special Supervisory Agents, and the Good Doctor of course - do not try to back out of this, it’s happening.” Garcia returned with six shots of tequila and you winced. You’d never drank tequila and come out unscathed.

“Penelope I love you, but you know what tequila does to me,” you groan, trying to blink back the memories of the last time the poison had passed your lips. You’d been out on a girls night out, and after a few rounds of tequila and not a care in the world, you’d started answering any and every question the girls had put to you like you were under the influence of a truth serum.

“Exactly, sweetie, and it’s because I know that I want you to drink up, you’ve been secretive these last couple of days and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

“What happens when you drink, Y/N?” Reid asked. You could heart the curiosity in his voice, and like everytime you’d felt his attention on you in the last week and a half, your chest thumped painfully, trying to burst from your chest and reach out to him.

“Oh, it was hilarious. She was a venerable chatterbox, and she was so open with her opinions on everything. She was answering every question with the cutest sincerity.” Garcia filled him in on the details and you wanted to melt into the couch.

“We asked her what drink she wanted next and she monologued for ten minutes about some of the different choices on the menu and whether she thought they would taste good.” JJ continued.

“And when we asked more probing questions, she’d start by saying ‘I’m only telling you this because it’s you three and I love you,’” Emily finished for them.

Thankfully, the three of them had noticed that you were quite a bit past it that day, and that they shouldn’t be really asking you anything inappropriate that you’d regret answering. You were especially thankful for it now though, as you could only imagine the things you’d say about Reid if your tongue loosened. About how he felt when he was inside you, about how he’d given you the best orgasm of your life, about how you were in love with him and afraid that if you told him you’d never have him in your arms again.

“One shot won’t hurt, Y/N. You had like five last time before you started spouting wisdom, what’s the worst that one could do?” You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Penelope Garcia, and thinking that maybe you didn’t even want to.

“Okay, one shot, and no more.” You grabbed the salt and the lime, got ready for your shot as the others did the same, and then with one quick tip up, it was burning a trail down your throat.

“Great, now that that’s finished, I’m going to get us some real drinks, any requests?” After a few shouts for beers and cocktails, Prentiss left the table and went to order the next round.

“How about a game?” Garcia suggested innocently enough, “maybe two truths, one lie? Truth or dare?” You rolled your eyes at her probing, knowing that she only had good intentions. She’d checked in on you a few times during your time in Alaska as well, after you started moping about the loss of Reid in your bed. It had only been the fact that he’d made you promise to keep your relationship to yourselves that had stopped you from spilling everything to Garcia the morning you woke up and realised he was gone.

“Baby girl, you’re scaring the kid,” Morgan laughed from his place at your side, and you breathed a sigh of relief, until he opened his mouth again. “That being said, is there something you need to get off your chest, Y/N? You’ve been acting all sad recently.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine, just not getting enough sleep, I think.”

“Oh, is it nightmares? We’ve all had them, I think it’s part of the job description now.” Emily returned with the drinks and latched on to the end of your conversation.

“Not nightmares, mostly dreams if I’m being honest,” you sighed out, unable to catch yourself as she handed you your drink. You cursed yourself as you looked up to see the grin on her face.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you telling me that you’ve been running on minimum hours of sleep because you’ve been getting some action?” Whenever Emily full-named you, you felt like a little kid being pulled into a principal's office. You gulped and sent her a panicked look, unable to deny but not wanting to say another word. From the corner of your eye, you tried to catch Reid’s reaction to all of this. He was nursing his drink on the sidelines, not saying anything, but a small twitch in the corner of his mouth filled in the gaps for him.

“Oh, that’s my girl.” Emily whistled at you from the other side of the table, and for the next half hour you did your best to melt into the table and not make eye-contact with Reid.

Eventually, Morgan made his way to the bar to start flirting with some girls, and JJ, Emily and Prentiss made their way to the dancefloor, leaving you and Reid alone at the table. They’d tried to convince you to get up with them, but you’d convinced them to leave you behind, with promises to join them shortly.

“So, you’re a truthful drunk, then?” Reid asked. He’d moved closer to you when Morgan had exited the booth, but not close enough to draw anyone's attention. Now with the girls gone too, he took his chances and pushed up against your side, your thighs touching, and his arm resting on the back of the booth.

“Don’t start, I barely survived that with my life, Reid, now they think I’m seeing someone,” you groaned into your hands.

“You are seeing someone. Granted it’s just me, and its not what they think…” he trailed off, still staring at you with that smile on his lips, but you barely noticed burying your head further into your hands. It was almost infuriating that he didn’t know that he’d never be ‘just’ anything to you.

“Not helping, Reid.” He chuckled and took another swig of his drink. Obviously the alcohol was starting to have some effect on him, because when he returned his glass to his coaster, the hand that was holding it fell directly onto your thigh. With his other arm practically wrapped around your shoulders, and this movement now, you could only imagine that the two of you looked like a couple having an intimate discussion to anyone walking past.

“What are you doing, Spencer?” You panic a bit, worrying that any second a coworker of yours would catch sight of the two of you and realise just who you’d been dreaming about these past few days. But your back was to the booth and it wasn’t in their line of sight at all.

“Oh, it’s Spencer again, is it? Thought you liked calling me sir,” he whispered in your ear and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck was enough to disable the brain cells that remained.

“Spencer!” You hissed under your breath at him, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Can we not do this here?” You asked, exasperated.

“Would you prefer to do this at my apartment, or yours instead? Or your car is outside, if you just want to get straight to it.” You weren’t used to this from him. Sure he was dominant when you were in the middle of the act, but before and after he was almost ten times more awkward than usual. But with a bit of liquid courage, he’d had you trapped in a corner, unable to escape, and not caring who saw you.

“Spencer, they’re going to see us. That was the rule, they can’t see us.” You whispered in a low voice, not wanting to take it any higher, despite the pounding music in the bar.

“And they won’t but you need to answer me baby, my place, your place or your car?” Your heart-race picked up as you saw the serious expression on his face. He needed this. Needed you so badly, that he couldn’t even wait for a natural exit, needing to carry you off to the nearest convenient location and have his way with you. You realised in that moment that you would drop anything just to give him what he needed.

“Car.” You said, letting go of your worries, and just letting him take care of the situation.

“Perfect, princess. Now, you’re going to lean on my arm and act like you have a headache while I go and make our excuses to the others, okay? Do not say a word, and maybe I’ll give you a nice reward, how does that sound?” You nodded vigorously at his instructions, suddenly very excited for whatever he had in store for you.

You stumbled your way to the dancefloor, tracking down Garcia and the others as Spencer informed them of your condition. The three of them tried to ask you questions, but you were sure that Spencer was serious about that reward, so you kept your mouth shut, leaning against Reid innocently and just nodding your head at the appropriate times. Morgan was still chatting at the bar, and Reid gave him a nod on the way out, knowing that he’d soon be filled in as well, and you were suddenly out the door.

“Good job, princess, you did so good for me in there.” He cooed into your ear as he guided you back to your own car. Unlocking the doors, he threw your bag into the front seats and immediately climbed into the back, pulling you along with him by your hand.

He pulled you over him, making you straddle him. You knew he wasn’t going to take his time with you, not here, but that didn’t matter. You needed it just as much as he did. You wondered for a second if his reward was going to finally be him pressing his lips to yours. You’d changed into a short skirt before joining your friends at a bar, that material so tight over your ass and thighs that in your new position, he didn’t even have to move it out of the way to gain access to you, having already ridden up all the way to your stomach.

“So beautiful baby. If you need to stop for whatever reason, you need to tap my shoulder here two times, okay?” You were confused about the introduction of a new safety gesture, but when he wrapped one of his hands around your neck and squeezed just as he starting rubbing your soaking cunt you suddenly realised it was necessary.

The strong grip on your throat was limiting your breath, the lack of oxygen you were getting intensifying every stroke he made. It was only a few minutes before he was pushing a finger into you, and beginning to pump it in and out quickly. You grabbed at the arm attached to your throat, using it for balance as you used your remaining energy to grind down desperately into his hand. He stilled his movements then, letting you use his hand to get off, humping yourself into him like a bitch in heat.

“You said you liked this, but if I’d have known you meant this much, I’d have done this much sooner.” He tightened his grip around your throat a little bit, still doing his best not to hurt you. You were seeing stars now, the car windows were fogged up from your desperate pants, and you were so close to just finishing right there on his hand.

You felt your vision go black as you finally tipped over the edge, tapping his shoulder quickly as you felt your orgasm rip through you. He instantly let go of you and caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you, and instantly doing everything to make sure you were okay.

“What’s wrong, are you okay? Did I squeeze too hard?” There was a panic in his tone, but you let your breathing even out before you replied, content with the feeling of him stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest.

“It’s okay, Spencer, it was just getting a little bit too intense for me, is all…” you let out a small yawn then and nuzzled into him in the backseat, your eyes drooping closed.

“Princess, I’m going to get you home now, okay? No more tonight.” He whispered sweetly into your hair, as you fell asleep in his arms once again. The last thing you felt before you fell under was his lips press a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

Saturday

When you woke up again, you knew you were in his arms, and your heart practically sang at the contact. Your eyes opened and there he was, next to you in your bed, face inches from yours, arms wrapped tightly around you and legs tangled in yours.

You stared at him for a few moments, not wanting to wake him and shatter the peace with awkward exits, not wanting to distance yourself from him for even a second. Your eyes drank all of him in. His messy hair, his long, delicate eyelashes, his lips. You found yourself staring at them for more than a few moments.

What would they feel like pressed into yours? You tried to bury the thought, but you just couldn’t. He was asleep, and you’d not talked about kissing when you’d discussed things you wouldn’t do. It was human nature to be curious, but the need to know him, to experience him and everything he had was consuming you from the inside, and you couldn’t help yourself.

Just as you were about to let your impulses control your movements and press a kiss to his lips, you felt him stir next to you, instantly snapping your eyes shut and laying as still as possible as he roused himself from sleep.

You felt him shift, but you could hear nothing over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Did he know you were awake? Was he going to leave without waking you? Was he going to try to wake you up?

You felt his fingers against your cheek now, tracing a faint line down your face, and then he did something unexpected, and he cupped your face in his hand, and you felt him growing closer and closer until you felt the softest of touches against your lips and realised that he was finally kissing you.

Completely forgetting you were supposed to be asleep, you responded to his kiss, angling your head to better match his and pushing your lips back into his as he made to depart, encouraging him to keep going. He did, with each connection of your lips growing more and more passionate and loving, and like if he was given the chance he’d never stop holding you there in that moment. He only pulled away when he ran out of breath, and you were thankful that he did, as when you opened your eyes, the sight of him robbed you of yours too.

“Good morning, princess.” He whispered, tenderly, letting his forehead come to rest on yours, pressing another chaste kiss to your nose as he did so, and drawing out a giggle from you.

“Good morning, Spencer.” He drops another kiss to your lips then, almost as if now that he’s started he can’t stop.

“Spencer, please, why are you so touchy this morning?” you giggle up at him between kisses.

“I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful, is that a crime?” He smiles at you agan, continuing his kisses down your neck.

“We’ve never kissed before,” you vocalise your fear, and he stopped his movements before you could rush to backtrack.

“We haven’t? Oh god, we haven’t,” his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, his expression mirroring yours. “Shit, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just assumed after everything these past two weeks that we’d kissed at some point.”

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologise,” you try to speak, but he keeps going, rushing to get the words out all at once.

“I think I was misremembering kissing you, maybe I thought my dreams were real or something, so if I overstepped a boundary or something about this makes you uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll never do it again.” There was a ringing in your ears as you took in his words.

“You dreamed about kissing me?” you asked in a whisper, almost scared to hear the answer. He struggled to find the right words to say for a moment, but then he nodded.

“I thought you’d have guessed by now from my enthusiasm about all of this,” he replied, still holding you, his hands hot on your waist.

“Wait, Spencer, for how long?”

“Promise you won’t be freaked out?” He groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in your pillows than admit what he was about tp.

“I promise, now spill.”

“Since you joined the team. Like since the exact second. I saw you when you walked in and it was like a bomb went off in my head or something, and I had to avoid you for most of that first day so you didn’t notice I was being a creep and just imagining what it would feel like to kiss you.” The grin on your face grew with each of his words, hope sprouting there and taking root.

“God, Spencer, I thought you were uncomfortable around me. I thought you hated me a little because I threw off the group dynamic!” you laughed at your own stupidity now, raking a hand through your hair as his behaviour became more understandable, now.

“No, god no. It does take me a little bit of time to warm up to change, I’ll admit, but by the end of the first week, the change I was imagining what our kids would look like.” You froze with his words, and the roots in your heart grew deeper, twining around themselves and holding you with a fervid strength.

“Kids?” was the only word you managed to gasp out, as Spencer realised what he’d said.

“Fuck… That is, I didn’t mean to… It was just a stupid thought, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally fine.”

“Feel what way, Spencer?” you had to hear it from his lips, had to hear the words you so desperately needed.

“Y/N, you have to know by now that I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you, I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for the last two weeks. I’m completely devoted to you, Y/N. I love you.” The flower in your chest bloomed, and the tears from your eyes spilled to water it.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he kissed the tears away from your cheeks, happy to continue showing you his adoration from earlier, but you pulled him away, needing to look him in the eye when you said it.

“Spencer, I love you, too. Maybe I didn’t realise as soon as you did, but somewhere in my subconscious I was so aware of you, I wanted your approval so badly, wanted you to smile and laugh with me the way you were with the rest of the team. I’ve spent this last week with the words stuck in my throat because I thought you couldn’t possibly feel the same, because Spencer you deserve all the love in the world.” Your tears were free flowing now, with your confession, and you could see some moisture forming in his as well.

The two of you didn’t need to say anything more after that, your lips doing all the communicating for you.

These kisses were different, so much deeper, more romantic, more needy. He moved his leg over you and pressed some of his weight down into you, wrapping you in his warmth. He pulled away from your lips to continue further down your neck. Each time he pulled away, he whispered a confession into your skin.

“Spencer, I want to feel you inside of me, please.” You moaned into his touch, and he quickly agreed. Now that you two knew you had each other, you wanted to waste no time. He was hard already, having woken up with the perfect reason to hold you. He carefully lifted your legs up and apart, giving himself all the space he needed to make love to you.

“God, you’re so perfect for me,” he said, pausing to spit down on your pussy, spreading the wetness with his heavy cock. He sat there rubbing himself against you for a few minutes, his lips having reconnected with yours, swallowing every moan you made, along with any he couldn’t control from himself.

The two of you were so lost in each other, in the moment, that it felt like it lasted forever. With one last rub to your sensitive areas, he lined himself up with your hole, and slowly lowered himself in. Encouraging you to hold your knees up into a tighter position, he grabbed your hips and began setting a relentless pace. It wasn’t the slow sensual fuck from your motel room, or even the hard and fast mess of your first time in the file room, but somewhere in the middle. You could feel the passion and the love he held for you in his kisses, and the lust you had cultivated over the weeks in each thrust, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Spencer just like that, fuck,” you moaned out when he finally moved away from your lips, pressing his mouth into your neck again and biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough that the pain heightened your pleasure.

With each thrust, your arms became weaker and weaker, your legs shaking furiously as he gave you all of him.

“Come on baby, just a few more, you can hold out for a few more,” he whispered in your ear, licking and sucking at the place he’d left his bite mark.

“I don’t think I can, I don’t think I can for musch longer, Spencer, please,” you whimpered your arms falling away from your legs. He replaced yours with his, pushing your body further into the bed, doing all the work and letting you just experience it.

“Okay, baby, you did great, you think you can come on my cock now, baby?” He asked and you immediately nodded, feeling the tell-tale bubbling of your orgasm beginning to rush through you. Your whole body stiffened as you screamed, his pace unrelenting as he rode you through the orgasm. He moved one hand down to your clit, rubbing you through it and keeping you sensitive, and even though you’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, you knew he meant to make you do it again.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. I love you, sweetie, you’re doing so perfect for me,” you gasped and moaned into his ear, unable to think for the twitching in your cunt, driven slowly insane by the sensitivity.

“I’m almost there, baby, gonna fill your cunt with my seed.” He grunted in your ear, grabbing either side of your neck in his hands, resting his forehead against yours and thrusting harder and harder into you. You felt the second wave start to hit then, more drawn out than the first as he did his best to breed you, to plant himself firmly inside of you. He lasted only a few more thrusts before his hips stilled, bottomed out inside of you, and you felt rope after rope of his cum spurt into you.

“Fuck, princess, I love you.” He pressed another quick kiss y=to your lips, but you were whimpering from the continued contact now, and he quickly pulled out. He stopped to watch his cum drip out of you, knowing that he’d fully claimed you now, that you were his forever, and, resisting the urge to push into you again, left to grab something to clean you up with.

You laid there, gently coaxing your legs back into a comfortable position until he came back. He cleaned you up, bundled you up in some fresh pajamas, and returned you to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms once again, almost as if nothing had happened.

“It’s saturday, so we can just relax for the rest of the day, okay, princess?” You hid your face in his chest and nodded your approval, gently shutting out the rest of the world. It was you and him now, everyday of the week it was you and him.

Sunday

After two weeks of constant attention, you had to set a boundary with your new boyfriend very quickly, and you chose breakfast on the sunday morning to do it.

“Spencer, you know I love you, right?” you opened the conversation, filling up his coffee mug as he set the small table in the corner of your kitchen.

“Yes, you said it 246 times yesterday. I said it 274 times, but whose keeping count, right?” You laughed at him, and pulled him into a hug quickly, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“I love you, but we need to talk again.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to keep your poker face as you threatened to crack seeing his eyebrows knit together.

“Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asked, but you stroked his hair reassuringly, signaling for him to just listen to you.

“I really like my job, you know. I like working out in the field.” You smiled up at him, watching his confusion deepen.

“But if you keep fucking me like I’m a little whore everyday of the week, it’s only going to be a matter of time until I can’t walk, you know?”

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🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34 @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @cow-parsley @wakaladjarin @itsyagrillkat @ratbastardchild

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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Java Jive (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: None! Word Count: 2.9k

MASTERLIST

We all have our way to unwind. For me, that process has always involved a good cup of coffee, opposed to the stale instant coffee kept at most stations. It also has almost always included a book or some other type of reading material.

But most of all, for almost the entirety of my existence, it involved being alone.

That remained true even through many years at the BAU, which is arguably one of the most difficult jobs out there when it came to relative exposure to traumatic experiences. It remained true through multiple kidnappings, addiction, and heartbreak.

The only thing, it seemed, that could break my terrible habit of self-isolation was her. It was (y/n).

Keep reading

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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Awww man, it's been days since I've been able to find a fic that hits the spot. HELP!!! 😞😞

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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Sealing Charlie in a bowl of jelly

*Im not american, i mean jelly as in jelly, jelly, jelly, wobbly stuff... jelly, jelly, jelly, there's never enough, YEOW!

🫙 he wouldnt actually care until you have put the bowl in the fridge and left it there for a good 10 mins

🫙 keeps trying to swim around to stop it from setting... whipped jelly like whipped cream though

🫙 i think he would definitely be mad pissed and a little panicked at first, but then just become more panicky and forget his anger over time

🫙 he would find it so frustrating to swim around in there. also there would be sooooo much whining about breathing and why are you doing this to me type stuff

🫙 it's definitely possible that he's the type to just embrace it, over time realising that actually its pretty peaceful in the jelly... no one is talking to him, no one is touching him, no one is asking him to shower all the time. its just. blissful silence as the jelly seeps into his ear canal and does irreparable damage to his hearing.he could get used to this

🫙 he would not realise that he can quite easily eat all the jelly, at least not for a very, very long time.

🫙 once he's done that though, he would be all about trying to take whatever is topping the bowl (im imagining glad-wrap). his hands and teeth would just be so slippery he cannot bite or punch through the glad-wrap it just slides right over

🫙 also dont forget. fishbowl warping. he would look so funny in there his head would be all big

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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I can never just have a normal day there always has to be some sort of psychosexual horror show

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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Tips for writing those gala scenes, from someone who goes to them occasionally:

Generally you unbutton and re-button a suit coat when you sit down and stand up.

You’re supposed to hold wine or champagne glasses by the stem to avoid warming up the liquid inside. A character out of their depth might hold the glass around the sides instead.

When rich/important people forget your name and they’re drunk, they usually just tell you that they don’t remember or completely skip over any opportunity to use your name so they don’t look silly.

A good way to indicate you don’t want to shake someone’s hand at an event is to hold a drink in your right hand (and if you’re a woman, a purse in the other so you definitely can’t shift the glass to another hand and then shake)

Americans who still kiss cheeks as a welcome generally don’t press lips to cheeks, it’s more of a touch of cheek to cheek or even a hover (these days, mostly to avoid smudging a woman’s makeup)

The distinctions between dress codes (black tie, cocktail, etc) are very intricate but obvious to those who know how to look. If you wear a short skirt to a black tie event for example, people would clock that instantly even if the dress itself was very formal. Same thing goes for certain articles of men’s clothing.

Open bars / cash bars at events usually carry limited options. They’re meant to serve lots of people very quickly, so nobody is getting a cosmo or a Manhattan etc.

Members of the press generally aren’t allowed to freely circulate at nicer galas/events without a very good reason. When they do, they need to identify themselves before talking with someone.

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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i ❤️ ... (button sets, part 1) by Claire Thompson

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liaaacantwrite · 1 year ago

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Heyyyyy baby! Okay, I don't know if I'm the only one who's experienced this but did it ever happen to you that you're really good friends with someone in a platonic way and then one night you have a dream about them and you just wake up with this weird crush? Making you notice things about them? Maybe you could do a Tom x Co-star reader oneshot based on this? I'd want reader to be working on Spiderman then we could explore her relationship with the rest of the cast. But that's up to you. ;*

Don’t Dream It’s Over

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Masterlist

“Don’t be scared. I got you.” A smirk lit up Peters face before he slipped his mask on as you peered off the ledge hesitantly.

“What if I fall?” You chewed your bottom lip.

“Don’t worry about that, pretty girl.” He said softly as he held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “I’m always gonna be here to catch you.”

“Okay.” You agreed, and Peters pumped his fist in the air.

“You might wanna hold me a little tighter.” The eyes of his mask widened in excitement as he wrapped his arm around your waist. “For safety reasons, of course.” He added timidly.

You rolled your eyes at him but complied. You wrapped both arms around his neck and fit yourself as close against his body as you could.

“You ready?” He asked you and you nodded.

“You’re gonna love this.” He said excitedly and stepped off the building. You began to fall freely until and a scream ripped through your throat. Peter shot a web at a nearby building and you were suddenly lit flying upwards, wind rushing in your ears.

“Don’t let me go!” You squealed and tucked your face into Peters neck.

“I won’t.” He laughed in delight as he swung towards another building. Sensing your fear by how tightly you were clutching him, he decided to land. He swung towards a building and landed gracefully on the rooftop. You still held him tightly and he let out a chuckle.

��You can let go now.” He said shyly, not that he wanted you to. You slowly slid your arms down and opened your eyes.

“How was that?” Peter asked you as he removed his mask. He noticed the look on your face and worried that he had upset you. “Did you not like it? We don’t have to do it again.” He said apologetically. You flung your arms around Peters neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. When Peter recovered from the surprise, he kissed you back and let his hands rest on your hips.

“I love you.” You mumbled against his lips when you pulled away. The corner of his mouth tweaked up in a half baked smile. “I’ve felt it for a while. I don’t feel scared when I’m with you. I feel like I can do anything. Isn’t that love?”

“I think it is.” He nodded, eyes full of hope.

“Then why are you just standing there?” You asked him and he made a face that showed he didn’t understand. “Kiss me.”

The moment your lips touched Peters, your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your trailer. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you sat up in bed. Even though it was just a dream, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach that it was over. You felt oddly disappointed, and a little dazed. You had hours upon hours worth of fittings and rehearsal to look forward to that day, but there was only thing on your mind: Had Peter Parker always been that cute?

You’d seen Tom in his Spider-Man suit a million times since filming began, but the thought of him in that red and blue was making your heart skip a beat that morning. You rushed out of bed to get dressed, suddenly feeling eager to see him. You threw on a dress he had complimented once before and smiled at your appearance before something dawned on you.

“Oh shit.” You whispered.

You now had a crush on Tom Holland.

You sped walked out of your trailer on high alert. You spotted Zendaya by the makeup trailer and waved her over.

“DAYA!” You shouted. “Daya come here.”

“What’s wrong girlie? You look like you’ve had a fun morning.” She folded her arms and laughed at the panicked look in your eyes.

“You know when you have one of those dreams that make you wake up with a crush on a person you thought you could never have a crush on?” You asked her quietly and she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh shit. Are you asking me out?” She teased you and you clenched your jaw.

“No, Daya. It wasn’t you.” You looked around for anyone who might be listening and quieted your voice. “It was Tom. Well, it was Peter. But now I think I like Tom.”

“Everyone knows that.” She shrugged you off and you scoffed.

“No, everyone speculates that.” You corrected her and she pursed her lips. “I honestly never had feelings for him until now. How am I supposed to act around him?” You whispered harshly.

“Just act like you always do.” She said and you groaned. You ran your fingers through your hair and tugged it.

“I can’t even remember how I used to act. All I can think of is that damn suit.” You folded your arms and blew out a breath. Zendaya looked you up and down and cocked her head.

“Damn, girl. What kind of dream was this?” She raised an eyebrow and you shoved her playfully.

“It wasn’t like that. It was romantic. I kissed him.” You insisted and she nodded skeptically.

“How did the kiss feel?” She interrogated you.

“I mean, I left my earthly body and saw the time knife but that’s it. It wasn’t anything special.” You dismissed it and Zendaya let out a laugh.

“So mediocre then?” She asked sarcastically. “Just talk to him. It’s the only way to tell if these feelings are real or just from your dream.”

“What do I say?” You asked desperately.

“I can’t think of everything. You need to take it from here.” Zendaya told you and you nodded reluctantly.

“You’re right. I’ll talk to him.” You squeezed her arm and walked away. You only got a few paces before you ran into a lady from the props department.

“Hey, Y/n.” She greeted you. “Could you take this to props please?”

“Oh, sure.” You smiled at her and took the fake knife she was holding. You kept walking and tried to think of a plan for what you were going to say to Tom.

“Hey there Juliet.” Jacob nodded at you. You stopped in your tracks so hard that your shoes skidded.

“Juliet? What have you heard?” You held the fake knife up to his throat and he held up his hands in defense.

“Woah there ku’uipo. Relax.” He chuckled and you lowered your knife. “I was just referring to the knife. You know how those crazy kids killed each other in old England.”

“Romeo and Juliet takes place in Verona.” You said and Jacob made a face like he didn’t understand.

“It’s in Italy. And they killed themselves.” You corrected again. “Why are we talking about this?”

“You’re right. What we should be talking about is what you think I heard.” Jacob smirked. Knowing Jacob wouldn’t drop the subject, you confessed.

“Have you ever had one of those dreams that makes you wake up with a crush on someone?” You whispered and he nodded.

“Yeah. I had one just last week and now I’m in love with Jake Gyllenhaal.” He said seriously and you glared at him. “Why, have you ever you ever had one of those dreams?”

“No.” You said quickly.

“Then why did you ask?” He challenged you.

“Ask what?” You played dumb.

“I…I don’t remember.” He blanked.

“You asked me if you could bring this knife back to props. And I said yes.” You lied and handed him the knife.

“Okay.” He shrugged and began to walk towards the props department. Jacob turned around again with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Tom.” He stated, and your heart stopped.

“What?” You faked a laugh.

“You dreamt about Tom.” He said, sure of himself this time.

“What? No.” You tried to lie but saw no use. “How did you know that?”

“Hawaiian intuition.” He tapped his head twice.

“That’s not a thing.” You accused him.

“Oh yeah? Then how did I know you’re crushing on Tom?” He asked you with a knowing smirk.

“I think Props is really missing that knife.” You tried to get out of the situation by sending him away.

“Alright. See you around, Juliet.” He saluted you with the knife and walked away. You swallowed thickly and soon as you turned around, you were met with Tom smiling face.

“Hey Y/n!” He greeted and you jumped back.

“Christ on a bike, Tom. You scared me.” You clutched your hand over your heart.

“Sorry, love.” He laughed softly, making your knees weaken beneath you. “Why was Jacob carrying a knife?”

“It was a prop knife. You could find it at a dollar store. It’d probably be more than a dollar, though. My guess is $3.99. Are you excited for the holidays? I am.” You rambled and Tom tilted his head in confusion.

“Are you okay?” He chuckled, taking a step closer to you and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Are you kidding? I’m fine. It’s almost crazy how fine I am. How are you? Are you parents doing okay? They were so nice to me last time I saw them.” You said through a smile and Tom snorted.

“Yeah, you are pretty fine.” Tom commented and you gulped loudly.

“God in Heaven.” You said in a straggled voice and looked up at the sky.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Tom said, thinking he offended you. “I just meant that I think you’re pretty. I’m sorry if that was inappropriate.”

“No, no, no.” You stammered and he relaxed. “Totally appropriate. Don’t even worry about it. I don’t even remember it. What were we talking about again?”

“That I think you’re pretty.” He played along and you pretended to remember.

“Were we? That’s crazy. You’re a crazy guy, Holland. One crazy son of a gun. But I uh, I think you’re pretty too.” You said quietly as you looked down at your shoes.

“Hey uh, did you hear about the crazy actress who killed her costar?” You asked suddenly and he furrowed his brows.

“No, oh my God. Who?” He wondered.

“Reese.” You nodded and looked past him.

“Witherspoon?” He asked in shock.

“No. With her knife.” You gave the punchline and grimaced. “I’m so sorry. That was a bad joke.”

“I thought it was funny. I always think you’re funny.” He smiled. Your breath hitched in your throat at his gaze. You’d never noticed how pretty his eyes were, or the little flecks of gold embedded in them.

“I , well, you — but you know, it’s just — I didn’t even uh, it was just a joke so, you know.” You stammered.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you and you felt your palms beginning to sweat.

“Never been better, Peter.” You gave him a thumbs up, not realizing your slip up.

“Peter?” He repeated and your face fell.

“I didn’t say Peter.” You said quickly, eyes shifting to the left.

“I’m pretty sure you did.” He looked you up and down, wondering why you were acting so funny around him today. His stare only made you worse.

“Really? That’s funny, you must be hearing things. Hold on a minute, COMING DAYA.” You yelled behind you as if you were being called.

“I didn’t hear Zendaya calling you.” Tom said skeptically, beginning to think you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Wow Tom, you better get your ears checked. They are all out of wack, my man.” You laughed nervously as you began to back away. “I gotta go help Daya with something but I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay. Have fun.” Not too much fun, though.” He joked and you pointed finger guns at him, immediately killing you inside.

“Fank yew! It’ll be an alright time, it will.” You shouted in a cockney accent. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hand. “I’m so sorry. I regret that so much. Can you please forget I just did that?” You pleaded with him.

“Might be a little hard to forget, love. I think it seared itself into my frontal lobe.” He tapped the side of his head and smiled at you. You gave him a big smile and hurried away. You stormed all the way to Zendaya’s trailer and shut the door behind you.

“I cannot believe that just happened.” You whined and covered your face with your hands.

“Woah there. Why are you all red?” Zendaya put down her script and laughed at your appearance.

“Because Tom just tried to talk to me and I forgot how to person.” You yelled in frustration, only making her laugh harder.

“I’m sure it was fine. It’s just Tom.” She insisted in dismissal.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed. “It’s just Tom. So how come when he looked at me, my brain told me to go EFF myself and put on a Nikki Minaj song.”

“Oof. That bad, huh? What song?” She asked you, amused with your embarrassment.

“Super Bass.” You half smiled. “The whole time Tom is talking to me I hear “this one is for the boys with the booming system. Top down, AC with the cooler system.” I couldn’t even think straight!” You whined.

“You’ve been friends with Tom for years.” She pointed out. “What happened?”

“It was that stupid dream! I had a dream we were in love and now I’m whipped. Whipped like…” You trailed off when you couldn’t think of the right word.

“Whip cream?” She raised an eyebrow and you glared at her.

“Shut up. I feel ridiculous.” You sighed and took a seat on her bed. You rested your head on her shoulder and she rubbed your back.

“I’m sure he didn’t think you were ridiculous.” She said quietly. “And look on the bright side.”

“Which is?” You asked her as you plopped down in her swivel chair.

“There are worse people you could be crushing on. Tom is a really great guy. He ill, he real, he might gotta deal. He pop bottles and he got the right kind of build.” She said in a serious tone.

“The way I’m about to shadow kick you right now.” You said gravely as you looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m serious. He’s one of your best friends right? What’s so bad about him being your boyfriend?” She nudged you gently and you sighed.

“There’s nothing bad about it. But what if that’s not what he wants?” You asked quietly as you played with your fingers.

“Take a look at yourself in the mirror, model.” Zendaya spun your chair around to face the mirror as she tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Of course that’s what he wants.”

“You better be right.” You looked at her in the mirror and she smiled at you.

“I am. Now come on. We have rehearsal on the Crown Jewels set.” She held you up out of the chair.

“I’ll meet you there in a second. I have to grab my script.” You told her before leaving her trailer. You went back to your trailer as she went to set.

“Is this mace real?” Jake asked as he weighed it in his hands as the rest of the cast went over their scripts.

“You really think they’d give us a real mace? Especially with you on set, Donnie Darko?” Jacob teased him and Jake began to play with the mace like it were a sword.

“Do they even make maces anymore?” Zendaya wondered, backing away from Jake a little as his swings gained momentum.

“Who’s they?” Jacob laughed.

“The blacksmithes.” Jake said seriously before we went back to moving his mace.

“Yeah, Jacob. Don’t you know about the blacksmiths?” Zendaya asked sarcastically, making a face at him.

“This thing is kinda heavy, though. Makes me want to swing it around and take down the leader of the Huns or something.” Jake realized as he began to swing his arm in a circle.

“Jake, put the prop down.” Jacob laughed nervously as Jake got a little too close with the mace.

“I physically cannot put it down. It’s in control now.” Jake insisted as he swung it around even harder.

“How are you the oldest and most childish person here?” Zendaya asked as she hide behind a suit of armor for protection.

“I feel so free.” Jake smiled wildly. “Is this how the vikings felt?”

“How would anyone here know that?” Zendaya sassed.

“And why do you want to know how the Vikings felt?” Jacob added.

“Hey guys.” You greeted the room happily only to get smacked in the mouth with the mace upon arrival. You collapsed to the floor and felt warm blood trickling down your face.

“Y/n! I am so sorry!” Jake covered his mouth with his hand when he realized what he had done. He bent down beside you and sent the mace down.

“Jesus? Is that you?” You asked groggily as you looked up at Jake.

“Yes. Jesus accidentally hit you in the mouth with a mace. But Jesus was just trying to feel like a Viking. Do you forgive Jesus?” Jake as he he picked your head up a little and let it rest on his hand to keep you elevated.

“Yes?” You asked in confusion as the corners of your vision began to blacken.

“She’s okay guys!” Jake called to Zendaya and Jacob. “But can we get a medic?”

Zendaya rushed out of the room to get a medic right as Tom entered it. He took one look at you on the floor and bloody and dropped to his knees.

“What the hell happened here?” Tom snapped as he took your hand. He dabbed some of the blood off your chin with his sleeve and saw a large cut on your mouth. He looked up at Jake for answers and Jake looked very sheepish.

“Someone hit Y/n with a mace.” He said quietly.

“Hm. Could it be the man holding the mace?” Tom asked in sarcastic anger as he pointed to the mace. He turned his attention back to you and slowly helped you sit up. He held you against his chest and tried to get the hair unstuck from your face.

“Jesus hit me.” You whined and Tom looked at Jake with a raging anger.

“You hit her? I’ll kill you.” He tried to move towards Jake but you patted his chest.

“Jesus hit me accidentally.” You added, and Tom calm down.

“Are you okay, darling?” Tom asked, switching to his most gentle tone. He pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket and held it against your mouth to slow the bleeding.

“I’m all dandelions and fruit cups down here, handsome.” You giggled, vision still swirling.

“She’s losing consciousness. Where is the medic?” Tom growled and look towards the door right as a woman in white came in.

“Right here. Move aside, please.” The medic ordered. Tom reluctantly laid you down on the ground and backed away to give you space.

“Pickle side, pickle side.” You laughed to yourself and moved your hands like you were conducting. The medic transferred you to a gurney and began to roll you towards the door.

“Where are you taking her?” Tom asked as he followed them.

“We’re gonna take her to the closest hospital. It looks like she needs stitches.” The medic told him and his heart sank.

“I love that song.” You mumbled and began to hum Stitches.

“Can I come?” Tom pleaded as he helped push the gurney along.

“Are you family?” The medic asked him.

“Yes.” He said quickly but she didn’t look convinced. “No. Please. I need to be there when she wakes up.”

“Fine. Get in the back of the ambulance.” The medic nodded towards the ambulance and Tom climbed inside. He waited until you were loaded in and took your hand in his.

“This is just like Grey’s Anatomy.” You smiled a little, then stopped when it hurt. “Nobody knows where we might end up. Nobody knows.” You sang to yourself.

“Thats right, Y/n. Just hang tight, sweetness. It’s gonna be okay. We’re almost there.” Tom said soothingly as he stroked your hair. You smiled at him softly before you fell unconscious.

“We’re almost there. Just hang tight.” Peter looked over at you, taking your hand in his to kiss the back of it.

“Is she gonna like me?” You asked him, hoping for an honest answer.

“Sweetheart, May is going to beg you to move in before dinner ends.” Peter chuckled. “She’s gonna love you.”

“How do you know?” You worried, trying to distract yourself by looking out the window.

“Because I love you. And I’m her kin.” Peter shrugged and you snapped your attention to him.

“That’s the first time you ever told me that.” You smiled softly at him as the streetlight lit up his profile.

“Is it?” He raised his eyebrows to play along. “I didn’t know.”

“Pull over.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“What?” He laughed, his smile fading when he saw that you were serious.

“Pull over.” You repeated. Peter obliged and pulled over as soon as he could.

“Is there something you needed?” He asked you with a coy smile.

You smirked at Peter before unbuckling your seatbelt. You leaned across the gear and pulled him into a long kiss.

“I love you too.” You told him, and kissed him again.

“Love? You awake?” Toms voice pulled you out of your dream. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked over to where his voice was. He was sitting in a hospital chair, pulled right up to your bed. “How you feeling?”

“Like I got hit with a mace.” You tried to sit up and he immediately went to your side to help you. You gave him a grateful smile and rubbed your eyes.

“Yeah, I figured. Jake said he’s really sorry. He’s been calling me every five minutes to see if you’ve woken up.“ Tom smiled softly and touched your cheek. He kept his touch light, not wanting to hurt you.

“Thanks, Peter.” You leaned into his touch and rubbed his wrist lightly with your thumb.

“Back to the Peter thing, huh?” He laughed softly. “They told me they got you on some crazy pain killer that was gonna make you loopy.”

“You wanna know something?” You raised your eyebrows suggestively.

“Tell me, darling.” He took a seat on your bed and gave you his full attention. You walked your fingers up his arm and drew patterns on his shoulder with your fingernails.

“I’ve been dreaming about us.” You told him, something you’d never admit if you weren’t on the medicine.

“Have you?” He raised his eyebrows. “What are you dreaming about us doing?”

“You’re mine.” You leaned into him with a sleepy smile. “And I’m yours.”

“You’ve been dreaming about us being together? Like as a couple?” He asked for confirmation and you nodded.

“Uh huh. And then I wake up and I’m sad.” You pouted and stuck out your bottom lip.

“Why are you sad?” He asked quietly, his heart beginning to speed up. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and gave a sad smile.

“Because it was just a dream.” You told him. Tom let out a shaky breath and tried to process what you were saying.

“Are you saying your want us to be together?” He tilted your chin up so he could see your reaction. He knew you were high on medicine and probably had no idea what you were saying, but a part of him hoped you were telling the truth.

You leaned in with a dopey smile and pressed your nose against Toms.

“You’re the boy of my dreams, Peter.” You cooed and he pulled his face away in annoyance.

“Right.” He sighed and looked away. “Peter.”

“Are you mad at me?” You worried when you noticed his reaction. Even with the medicine compromising your mentality, you could tell he was angry.

“No. No darling, I’m not mad. Not at you.” He mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Come here.” You pulled at his shirt and he cradled a smile. “I want to be close to you.”

“Okay.” He obliged and scooted closer. You shut your eyes and rested your head against his forehead.

“Can I ask you something?” You whispered, and he could’ve sworn you were sober for a moment.

“Anything.” He nodded against your head.

“Can you hear my thoughts?” You asked seriously and Toms face fell in disappointment.

“No. No I can’t hear your thoughts.” He told you and pulled away.

“Good.” You cupped his chin and turned his face back to you. “Because they’re all about you.”

You let your thumb slowly drag down his lip, laughing a little at the sound it made when you let go. Toms throat tightened at your action and he gulped.

“You’re so pretty.” You smiled as your eyes trailed down his face.

“You’re pretty too.” His lips tugged into a grin.

“Peter.” You whined as you pushed him away.

“What?” He asked, confused with your mood change.

“You’re giving me butterflies.” You said timidly as you played with the edge of your hospital gown. “But I like someone else. I can’t like you too.”

“You like someone?” His face paled. “Do I know him?”

“Yeah. He’s like a really, really good friend of yours.” You blew out a breath.

“Is it someone on set?” He questioned you.

“Maybe.” You said in a sing song voice and shrugged.

“Who?” He asked, getting more worked up by the minute.

“I like Tom.” You whispered loudly and Toms eyes widened.

“What?” He whispered back.

“Shhhh, Peter.” You pinched his lips between your fingers. “You can’t tell Tom that I like him.”

“I think he might already know.” Tom said when he pulled your hand away from his face.

“What?” You panicked. “Who told him?”

“Whew, I don’t know.” Tom played along. “I think Zendaya did.”

“Daya? No. She swore she wouldn’t. It must’ve been Jacob.” You hit your fist against the bed.

“You told Jacob before me?” Tom exclaimed.

“I didn’t tell him. It was his Hawaiian intuition.” You tapped the side of your head twice.

“His what?” Tom tilted his head to the side.

“I have to go to sleep now, Peter. I can’t talk about this right now.” You waved your hand and pulled the sheets over your lap.

“You’re gonna tell me that you like me and then go straight to sleep?” He whined.

“I don’t like you, Peter. I like Tom.” You corrected him. “I like Tom and his curly hair and his brown eyes and his cute ass nose. God, what a nose. And I like his accent and his smile and his ambition and FUCK, his nose.”

“You mentioned that already.” He chuckled shyly.

“I did?” You sat up slightly and shrugged. “Because I love it. I love it all. And if you’ll excuse me, I needs my sleeps.” Tom sat back in his chair and sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any real answers until you woke up.

“Good morning.” You said weakly as you reached for the ice pack next to your bed. You held it against your cheek and sighed in relief.

“Hi sunshine.” Tom smiled softly. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel like someone put my brain through a pasta maker anymore.” You said as you rubbed your eyes.

“Aw. How about your mouth?” He questioned.

You gave him a weak smile until it hurt and returned the ice pack to your face.

“There she is.” He smiled back. “You may want to keep the smiling to a minimum until those stitches heal.”

“That wont be a problem.” You groaned in misery and leaned against his body. He hesitantly brought his hands to your head and stroked your hair.

“Hey, can we talk about before? About what you told me?” He asked softly as he combed the tangles out of your hair.

“Tom, if you think I remember a single thing since this morning…” You shook your head as you trailed off.

“You told me that you liked me.” He got straight to the point. “Or, you told Peter that you liked me. But I heard, o-obviously.”

“Oh God.” You buried your face in your hands to hide your shame.

“Jacob knows, Zendaya knows. You told everyone but me.” He said softly. You began to panic now that he knew. Even if he was cool about it, it’d never be the same between the two of you.

“Sorry, no.” You blurted, back to forgetting how to act around Tom.

“Sorry, yes. You told me a few hours ago, love.”

You turned away from him in shame and squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you were anywhere but in that hospital bed.

“I’m sorry if that creeps you out. I guess I don’t really have control over the fact that you’re…” You trailer off with a loss of words.

“The boy of your dreams?” He humored you and you huffed out a breath.

“Leave me alone.” You groaned and put your head back in your hands. Tom gestured for you to scoot over so he could take a seat beside you, and you did.

“You know, those stitches come out in a week.” He brought you and you looked at him quizzically.

“And?” You asked, unsure of his point. Tom took your chin between his fingers and placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your entire body froze as he pulled away and gave you a half cocked smile.

“Find me in a week.” He winked.

“Pssh.” You smirked. “In your dreams.”

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