#boy please get a different haircut

[sproutmole-supremacy]

I have been having the worst of times but the idea of this boy having long flowy hair actually gave me enough motivation to draw something properly (colour etc) for the first time in a while so here he is!!!!

[mentally-gone002]

pretty genius boy

summary: spencer gets a haircut!

a/n: i am obsessed with jesus spencer and boyband spencer so… i decided to do a little fic abt him because he’s my husband (im delulu)

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the front door to mine and spencer’s apartment opened, signaling that he was home. 

he was earlier than expected. 

and so was i. 

i kept washing the few dishes that were left in the sink, blowing at a strand of hair that tickled my face when it grazed my cheek with my lips drawn to the side without looking up as spencer wandered into my line of sight, greeting me with a quick “hey” that caught my attention. he wasn’t looking at me, but at a file from work in his hands.

when i looked up i dropped the glass in my hand and then flinched when it hit the sink basin with a loud thud. “oh, my god!” i raised my voice is shock. “your hair!” 

he flinched at the glass thudding into the sink and then pursed his lips into a smile. “yeah,” he nodded. “what about it?” 

i scoffed, abandoning my chore with soap still clinging and dripping from my hands. “what about it?” i reiterated. “spencer… you chopped it all off!” i reached him and we stood toe to toe and i was craning my neck to see his new haircut. he looked very different. 

he frowned a little. “is that bad?” 

i shook my head quickly to make his frown disappear. “no, no, it’s just… i thought someone broke in at first glance.” i stifled a laugh, reaching a soapy hand to his hair. “give me an hour and i’ll tell you how i feel about it.” 

spencer nodded, laughing gently to himself at how i was looking at him. “okay.” he leaned down to my height and kissed my forehead. “i missed you.” 

“i missed you too.” i smiled into the second long contact. “and i miss your hair!” i frowned. 

he smiled. “it was too hot.” 

“you’re right.” i agreed with my arms crossing over my chest.

“i think you misunderstood the correct meaning of the word ‘hot’ in this context.” spencer told me.

i whined. “stop being so… genius. let me mourn the loss of your beautiful hair.” 

spencer rolled his eyes. “okay. you mourn, i’m gonna go shower.” 

i nodded and watched him disappear into our bedroom before walking back to the kitchen. i dried my hands and grabbed my phone, dialing penelope’s number. 

“hello my lovely!” she answered the phone in the same cheerful manner she always does. “what’s up?”

“spencer got a haircut.” i told her. 

she gasped, already intrigued. “what’s it look like? please tell me it’s not bad.”

i laughed. “it’s not bad it’s just… i wasn’t expecting it at all when he came home. it’s so short.” 

“how short are we talking?” she asked. 

i hummed. “think like… harry styles from one direction, but less fluffy.” 

the woman squealed over the phone. “oh, reid has a boyband haircut!” i could hear her typing quickly before she stopped, there was silence and then she giggled. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“i can’t wait to see his hair! he always has good haircuts. and if it’s anything like harry styles i’m going to go insane.” 

i laughed. “i told him to give me an hour to get used to it. i like it when it’s long because i can braid it.” 

she gave me a pitiful ‘awe’ and then asked, “do you think he’ll grow it back out?”

i hummed. “have you seen all the haircuts he’s had over the last few years? he never sticks to one for too long.” 

penelope agreed with a simple hum as i started walking towards our bedroom. “i’m gonna go, just wanted to update you on the ever changing plot of my life.” i chuckled, seeing the bathroom door adjoined to our bedroom open slightly. 

“i enjoy the updates. say hi to boy genius for me!” 

“i will.” i laughed and then hung up the phone prior to pulling the bathroom door wider for my entrance and then pushing it partially closed again. spencer was hidden behind the dark olive green shower curtain but that didn’t stop me from peeking around it to stare at him. 

his back was to me but i still focused on his wet hair that was a few shades darker and the smallest sight of muscle definition over his back. 

maybe i didn’t need an hour for his short hair to grow on me. 

i withdrew my head from the shower curtain and left the bathroom, smiling to myself with the fond thought of him in my head. 

i went back to the kitchen to finish the dishes and by the time i was done spencer was back in the room with me, a tee shirt covering his chest and sweatpants covered his legs. 

“hi.” he rounded the island in the kitchen to stand beside me at the sink, back to the counter. he looked down at me with the same kind eyes he always had. 

i smiled and shut off the running water so that i could move and stand between spencer’s legs. “hi.” i studied his messy towel dried hair prior to reaching up and touching some of the strands, twirling them between my fingers, then letting my hand slide down to touch his face. i looked into his eyes before saying, “i know it hasn’t been an hour, but it’s grown on me.” a smirk slipped over my lips as he grinned as well. 

“i knew you wouldn’t need an hour.” he teased lightly, leaning down to capture my lips with his for a brief second. 

i scoffed. “how did you know?”

“i’m a profiler, honey.” he reminded. 

i nodded gently, sighing contently. “ah, yes. i forgot.” my smile reflected my teasingly feigned innocence that spencer smiled at. “but seriously, i love it. it suits you, and you’re as handsome as ever.” i winked, smiling widely. spencer kissed me again. i could feel how his lips curled into a grin. “pretty genius boy.”

spencer tucked his head into my neck. i knew he was smiling.

i put my fingers in his now short hair, loving how easy it was to comb my fingers through it now.

[luveline]

IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES PLEASEEEE 🔥🔥🔥 NOTICE MEEEE

Really quiet and shy reader who’s new to the team and Spencer JUST got out of prison like a month ago and he comes back and sees the cutest girl he’s ever seen so young and new to the team and can’t help but tease her

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

Unit Chief Emily Prentiss scares the fuck out of you, but you're still not as intimidated by her as you are by Dr. Reid. 

Dr. Reid, and not Special Supervisory Agent Reid —there's a big difference— shouldn't be a scary guy. He doesn't have any tattoos or piercings, his haircut is tame, and you watch him pour enough sugar into his coffee to weaken the enamel of your teeth just looking at it. But while all or this is true, Dr. Reid just came back from a weeks long stint in one of the most tense prisons in the world. Emily assured you in her way that everything bad you may have heard about Dr. Reid would be false, and that anything positive is true. 

He looks different to how you'd pictured him. Emily's promise aside, Garcia painted him as some sweater-wearing Teddy bear of a boy who likes chess and Doctor Who. 

This is a man. Full grown, full suit, dark-eyes. You're not sure what to feel as he spots you. When Anderson gave you the desk across from Spencer's you'd thought you were lucky, getting treated as part of the team from the very beginning, but now you're not so sure. 

“Hey,” he says, eyes on you as he puts down his coffee atop a stack of medical journals. His things were left untouched while he was gone, even though he was technically separated from the bureau. He's well respected. “I've been excited to meet you. I'm Spencer.” 

“Dr. Reid,” you say immediately, standing up from your chair to meet him besides your desks. 

“Spencer,” he says again. “I don't shake.” 

“Oh, no, of course not,” you say, hiding your hands behind your back. “I know you were here long before me, but I can safely say how nice it is to have you back.” You smile. “They were all so worried about you.” 

“You kept them in line while I was gone?” 

“No, I was useless. I've never felt this stupid in my life.” 

“That's just how it feels for the first year.” He isn't smiling, isn't frowning, a hint of amusement in his eyes and hands steady as he tucks them into his pants pockets. “It's not the others, is it?” 

“No, there's just a lot to learn.” 

“It shouldn't be hard for you, though, right?” He gestures to you like this means something. 

“I don't…” 

“You're what, twenty four?” Spencer picks up his mug and takes a drink. “If you're smart enough to be here now, you'll be fine.” 

“You think so?” 

“Don't tell me you're scared, Y/N.” His lashes flare ever so slightly in feigned surprise. After a second of your obvious flustering, he laughs. “No, you don't scare easily. I can tell.” 

Absolutely nothing like you told me he'd be, Penelope. I thought we were friends. 

“So what was your last case like? The Bentley driver?” he asks, nodding toward your desk. “How's your peer reviews going? They used to drive me insane.” 

You startle and rush to sit in your desk chair, opening the case file from the last case to gather his approval. He flicks through pages, almost non-committal, though he gives a hum of approval when he reads your UnSub summary, and when he sees a comment you'd made that you'd believed to be particularly astute, he laughs. “Yeah,” he says, “you'll be fine.” The smell of him floats your way, cologne or aftershave that makes you feel dizzy. He looks down at you. “Something wrong?” 

“Nothing, uh–” You bite your tongue rather than answer and trip over another useless sentence. 

He touches the top of your shoulder lightly. “It will get easier,” he promises. 

He means work, of course, but for a split second you wonder if he means being near him. If he's like this often, you doubt that that's true. 

[writtenapoiogy]

touch; jaime reyes

pairing: jaime reyes x f!reader

summary: jaime comes home from getting a haircut THATS REALLY IT (i had a different idea when i started writing this but it took a diff direction)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, dry humping, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, porn with plot-ish, some good ole fuckin

a/n: i haven’t written in like 2 years so bear with me if this isn’t that good 😭

Jaime loved your touch.

He loved when you held hands. When you kissed, and his hands wrapped around your waist. Your hands held his cheeks and then ran into his hair. He loved the way your lips felt on his neck. He loved every single way you touched him. He simply could never get enough of feeling your touch.

And he loved nothing more than when you played in his hair. Raking your fingers through it. Putting random braids in it, just as long as your hands were on his head.

During a heated makeout session, all hot breath, hushed moans, and gasps. Raking your fingers through his hair. Pulling on his hair. He loved it all.

So as you were laying on his bed waiting for him to get home from the barber, you were shocked when he showed up with his hair cut down to almost a buzz.

You gasped as soon as he came into the room, “What happened??”

“He messed up.” Jaime frowned.

You giggled, “Oh, it’s okay baby, you still look handsome.”

“You’re laughing, mi amooor,” he drawled out as he plopped down in his bed, resting his head on your lap.

You hold back a laugh as you lightly run your fingers through his now-nonexistent curls. “Jaime, it is okay. It will grow back,” you couldn’t help but let a chuckle out. His hair was now probably about 3 inches long and sat just across the top of his forehead.

Jaime wrapped his arms around your waist and grumbled against your lower stomach, “Stop laughing!”

“I can’t help it! Your reaction is making me laugh!”

Jaime lifted his head and looked into your eyes with his beautiful deep brown ones. You saw for only a quick second a bit of mischievousness flash in his eyes before he removed his arms from behind your waist and started tickling you relentlessly.

“JAIME…STOP… PLEASE!” You barely got out through your laughs.

He didn’t let up, laughing at your struggle, “As long as you promise not to laugh at me.”

“...I pro..mise… I PROMISE.. I PROMISE,” You finally got out.”Please.”

“Anything for you, mi amor.”

You roll your eyes at him but the smile on your face never wavers. He crawls over you to meet you face-to-face. He stares deeply into your eyes as you sit there and catch your breath from laughing so hard.

God, he’s handsome.

You can’t stop yourself from taking a longing glance at his lips, taking in the cute little beauty mark right under the right side of his lip. You smile to yourself as you look back up at his eyes. You couldn’t help yourself from running your hands up his chest and cupping his face.

Oh, this boy was everything to you. He was your entire heart.

You pull him down to your lips and you both melt into each other. It’s a warm and soft kiss but at the same time a searing and passionate kiss. The perfect mixture that set your body aflame every time he placed his lips on yours. Jaime just had a way of making you feel like you were on fire. He knew where to touch you, where to kiss you, what to say.

He was perfect.

Jaime began to lightly press his tongue into the line of your puckered lips. You eagerly allowed him to let his tongue in to lick and prod into your mouth. All while he wrapped his arms around you bringing you tightly against him. His left hand moves down to grip your ass. He ground his hips against yours moaning, as he deepened your kiss.

He was hard. Very hard.

You moaned into his mouth, taking your hands to the back of his head to grip his luscious locks out of pure habit but frowned when you realized there was nothing.

Jaime pulled away at your frown. He swore in Spanish, “I'm gonna miss how good it felt to have you grasping and tugging on my hair.” He kissed your lips, then said, “I’m never going back to that barber shop again.”

You nodded in agreement before he bent back down to capture your mouth with his again.

You removed your lips from his to start to undress him. You desperately needed to feel his warm skin against yours. All over you. You wanted to- No, you needed to be against him completely bare. Nothing in between the two of you.

And you got what you wanted cause as soon as his pants and underwear fell to the floor he got to work on getting you as naked as him. Once nothing was acting as a barrier to the two of you. He ground against you completely raw and bare, rubbing his hard cock through your folds and against your clit.

You let out a whimper and he quickly swallowed it with a kiss before trailing kisses from your neck down to your abdomen. He spread your legs as far apart as they could go to have you wide open in front of him. He licked his lips before blowing his breath along your heat, teasing you.

You jutted your hips up at him silently asking him to touch you or put his mouth on you. You didn't know which one you needed, you just knew you needed him to give you something or you were going to explode.

He laughed at your clear need for him. Jaime had this need to taste you like he’d never had a drink and had grown quite thirsty. Just an overwhelming need. He brought his mouth down against your wet hot cunt, not wasting a second.

Jaime hummed against you as he dragged his tongue up and down your folds everytime he went down he stuck his tongue inside your opening making you whine as he continued to tease you. He moved his tongue to your clit licking it, aggressively.

“Jaime,” you moaned. You knew you wanted to scream and you couldn’t believe you were so close to coming and he had just put his mouth on you. He knew your body so well it made you want to burst.

“Fuck. Jaime…” You cried out when he slid two fingers into your pussy stretching you open so you were ready for him.

And not even 10 seconds later, you were coming and shaking as you gripped whatever hair you could on top of his head as you rode your high against his face.

He licked you clean and brought himself back up to your face. As he made his assent you felt him rub his dick through your folds and then pushed it down so that the head was at your entrance just barely pushing into you. You were so sensitive from your first orgasm that your senses were on one hundred, especially down there.

He laid a very wet sloppy kiss on your lips, he stuck his tongue into your mouth swiftly licking your tongue, just leaving you wanting more before saying, “You ready for me mami?”

You moaned at the pet name and then nodded, “Yes, handsome. I’m always ready for you.” You smiled at him in a way that made him almost come right then and there

He pushed his cock into you. As always, you gasped like it was the first time again. There was nothing better than the feeling of being filled by the love of your life. Jaime shuddered, feeling your warm wet walls gripping him in deeper.

“Fuck mi amor,” he groaned, “Your pussy feels so good.”

You could only moan in response. He started thrusting, going slow and deep so you could feel every single inch of him. His strokes were nothing but perfect. He hit all the right spots turning you into a pile of mush. He was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed.

“Jai..Jaime,” you stuttered through a moan.

Jaime smiled down at you as he fucked you deeply with passion. His eyes staring right into you watching you fall apart because of him. He couldn’t get enough.

His moans and grunts did nothing but bring you closer and closer to your release. He was not quiet and that was something you loved immensely. You were close. So close. And he knew that so he picked up his pace. You didn’t even have to ask, he knew your body that well.

You whimpered, wrapping your arms over his shoulders to pull him down on top of you. That didn’t stop his thrusts or throw off his tempo either. He kept going knowing you were almost there. This angle was perfect. It was deeper and he kept rubbing against your clit with each thrust.

You loved the feeling of him going in and out of you. You kept trying to look down at the two of you connecting. He smirked down at you, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. Jaime glanced down at what you were unfortunate not to see. He moaned and almost came right then.

“Dios mío,” Jaime whimpered. "You're so wet for me." Your cunt was getting wetter as you got closer to your release. That was enough to bring him to the brink of his own release. “Come for me. Please come for me Y/N. I know you wanna come baby let it go.”

You let it all go, feeling your body shake and tremble. You kissed him so that you didn’t scream. You wrapped your arms around him tightly pulling him as close to you as possible, needing something to stabilize you.

Feeling you coat his cock with your juices sent him over the edge. His thrusts stuttered and lost their rhythm as he spilled his warm seed into you, moaning into your mouth.

He had to remove his mouth from yours to catch his breath. He grunted as his last rope of come left his cock. You didn’t miss the whimper he let out feeling you clench around him.

“Fuck Jaime.” You smiled up at him and wiped the sweat off his forehead that was making his very short hair stick to it.

“That was good.” You both said at the same time.

The both of you let out a breathy laugh.

You took a good look at him. Puffy red lips and flushed cheeks. And his heavenly brown eyes. He was so beautiful.

“I love you, my pretty boy.” You said before placing a kiss on his soft lips.

After pulling away from the kiss, “I love you more, mi amor.” Jaime replied.

He pulled out of your warm heat and you whimpered at the loss of the fullness you once felt. The both of you cuddled till you drifted off to sleep.

[steveseddie]

love is stored in a can of hairspray

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189

tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji

a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.

In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.

That is until today.

Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.

“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.

“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-

Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.

“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”

Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”

Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.

“That sucks, man.”

Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.

Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.

“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”

Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”

“Two weeks?”

“That’s when I finally get a day off.”

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”

“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.

“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.

They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.

He steps inside and Steve closes the door.

Dustin stares at Steve’s head.

“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”

These fucking kids.

Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”

Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.

Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.

***

Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.

He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.

He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.

But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.

But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.

With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.

He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.

Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”

“Hey, Stevie.”

He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”

Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.

Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”

“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.

“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”

But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-

But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.

“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.

One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”

He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.

“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.

“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”

“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”

Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.

“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.

Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.

Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.

***

Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.

Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.

“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”

With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.

Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.

Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.

“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.

“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.

“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”

He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.

“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.

The same can’t be said about Buckley.

“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”

Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.

“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.

Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.

“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.

“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.

“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”

Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.

Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.

So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.

“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”

A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”

A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”

Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.

The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.

It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.

“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.

Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”

The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.

“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”

“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.

With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.

He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.

And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.

[bruisedboys]

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader — you’re worried about what bradley will think of your new haircut.

mutual pining, pre-relationship, fluff (very self indulgent since I got my hair cut this week xoxo)

You were feeling good about your new haircut yesterday, when it was freshly cut and styled and so super soft. Today is different. You know you look different and you can help but think different is bad.

You rake a hand through your short hair. “Does my hair look bad?”

Natasha and Bob both give you twin looks of incredulity. It’s not the first time you’ve asked it tonight. They’ve brought you along to the Hard Deck for a night of drinks with their friends and you can’t stop fussing over your hair. You won’t admit to them it’s because you’re harbouring a massive crush on one of their squad members and you’re worried he’ll think you look awful.

“It looks fine,” Natasha tells you, again, not for the first time. “You look pretty. Right, Bob?”

Bob hums, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “You look great, Y/N.” He gives you a look from behind his glasses. Confusion, a bit of suspicion. “Why are you worrying so much, anyway?”

Your heart stutters. “I’m not—“

“Phoenix, Bob!” Jake Seresin appears seemingly out of nowhere, sidling up to your table with all the charm of a prince. His eyes land on you and your new hair and he grins. “And Y/N. Looking good, sugar.”

He winks at you. He’s a huge flirt and you’d definitely be into him if it weren’t for another certain aviator.

You smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”

The others, Payback and Fanboy, file in behind him. They both notice and compliment your hair, which is a good sign. Still, you know who’s coming next and you can’t help but curl in on yourself, taking a sip of your drink so you don’t have to see him as he approaches.

“Hey, guys!” Bradley Bradshaw appears, stupid Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, moustache, golden skin and all. He’s tucking his glasses into his shirt so he doesn’t see you at first. “Hey— woah, Y/N.”

He stops short when he sees you. You lower your drink slowly, heart in your throat. Your knee bounces underneath the table.

“Hi, Bradley,” you say.

Bradley blinks. Blinks again. “Hi. Hey. I— you cut your hair.”

He says it like he’s never heard of a haircut before. You smile unsurely.

“I did,” you say, pushing a lock behind your ear as if that will help your case. “Is it bad?”

“Bad? No, it’s— it really suits you,” he says. If you’re not mistaken, he’s stuttering. Not only that, but unless you’re imagining it, he’s blushing. He stares at you, completely unaware of anything or anyone else, golden cheeks tinged pink. “You look really pretty.”

Your turn to blush. Heat flares behind your cheeks, burning into your smile. Pretty, he called you. “Thanks, Brad.”

Bradley seems to come back into himself, a lopsided grin creeping onto his face. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and smiles at you. “Hey, you’re welcome. Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack, okay?”

What’s that supposed to mean? You open your mouth to say something, you don’t know what, but Jake’s southern drawl interrupts you.

“Bradshaw!” Both you and Bradley turn to see Jake at the pool table with the rest of the boys. “Stop flirting with Y/N and get over here so I can beat you. Again.”

Bradley rolls his eyes. “He’s lying, I won last week. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

You weren’t planning to. He flashes you a dazzling smile and then you watch him go, your heart thrumming with the sort of electricity you can’t ignore. You think you might burst. He’d called you pretty, said you’d given him a heart attack. You feel like your own heart’s about to give out, too.

Across the table, Bradley now well out of earshot, Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Oh,” she says slyly. “Now I get why you were so worried about your hair.”

You groan and bury your burning face in your drink again. “Please shut up, Nat.”

You have a feeling she won’t.

[ebony-blood]

OH MY GOODNESSS I was wondering, if you can pretty please do a lost boys X reader (poly if your comfortable with it) but she’s a wallflower? Like maybe she moved to Santa Carla and she’s bullied? Maybe a sprinkle of insecurity but ends up meeting the lost boys at the boardwalk and they just. Can’t. Leave. Her. Alone? She’s their mate and she’s so flustered cause the HOTTEST guys she’s ever seen are paying attention to her? Pretty pretty please?🥹🥹🥹 I’ll love you forever

Poly! The Lost Boys x Shy! Fem! Reader

Author's notes!: I had to look up what 'Wallflower' means lol, for those who don't know, a Wallflower is basically someone who kinda hangs back during parties because they are too shy. TW: READER IS FEM!! Bullying, mentioned violence, vampire stuff, the boys being obsessed right from the start. I tried so hard not to describe Reader in this, I try to be as inclusive as I can, but if anything is mentioned it's because I'm tired lol, I'll fix it, just bring it up in the comments and I'll track it down o7. This probably sucks, I'm sorry.

You had moved to Santa Carla looking for a fresh start a few weeks ago. You weren't used to the weird styles, the smell of weed and gas that seemed to constantly cover the streets, the loud boardwalk parties, none of it. So naturally, you kept to yourself, hanging back during parties and avoiding eye contact, unfortuantely, Santa Carla was not a place people like you, shy wallflowers, were treated right. 

Some people ignored you at best, they’d glare at you when you waved or smiled at them, they’d ignore you if you asked questions, they avoided you. But a lot of people were downright cruel to you. They mocked you at parties, some openly tried to take things from you or would push you around. People were never openly violent with you, at first, but after a few weeks they started getting more violent, pushing you around and screaming in your face. It was mostly the people who were either on drugs or drunk. It was mostly the men and their girlfriends who were openly hostile and mean to you. You wished you’d never moved to this place, it was gross, the people were indifferent at best and downright cruel at worst, and you missed people you knew in your past. You wish you weren’t like you were, so quiet and shy. Hell, it had been years since you could look in the mirror and see someone you didn’t view as hideous looking back at you, but Santa Carla made it so much worse.

It was yet another late night in Santa Carla. Another night of wandering the boardwalk while you tried to avoid the harassment you got from people. You weren’t surprised every time you were shoved aside, or shouted at by a familiar group. Honestly, you didn’t wanna deal with that tonight, you wanted to walk around, maybe go see whoever was playing a show that night and see if they were actually good, and then head back to your apartment, but it seemed whatever form of fate you believed in had a different idea, because the group just wouldn’t leave you alone, shouting random shit, from ‘Weirdo’ to one girl just straight up calling you ugly. You were fighting back tears.Why the hell were people so needlessly cruel? Whatever, it’s nothing new. 

You stopped by some area where people on the beach park their bikes. You took the biggest breath you possibly could when you realized your tormenters weren’t following you anymore, so you could finally breath. 

That was until you heard voices, four guys, you guessed. You looked in their direction and, for the first time since moving to Santa Carla, you got that butterfly feeling in your gut. That wasn’t a thing you had felt since high school. You swore the bullies you faced then laughed the feeling out of you, but these four seemed to knock the breath you had just taken out of you. Damn, they were hot. Three of the four men were blonde, one had curly hair, one had fluffy hair, and the third guy had a haircut that kind of reminded you of Billy Idol, he was smoking a cigarette. And then there was the one that seemed to be trailing behind, observing people around them while the other three, mostly the ones with curly hair and fluffy hair, laughed and joked. The fourth guy had long, dark brown hair. You stared for a minute longer before snapping yourself out of whatever daze you had been in. 

They had stopped walking, they were staring right at you, and you immediately prepared your apology in your head. Quietly standing up, and then one of the four, the fluffy-haired one, said something you assumed wasn’t meant to be said out loud.

“Holy shit, Marko, she’s hot.” 

You looked over at the four, confused, the man was immediately smacked across the back of the head by the one with the cigarette.

“Don’t say shit like that out loud, dumbass.”

You were staring at the four, your face suddenly warming up at the idea that they were talking about you. You figured it was a stupid thought, there were other hot girls around the boardwalk, why would any of these four think you were hot? Then, the one with the cigarette cleared his throat.

“Sorry about that, doll. Paul can’t seem to keep his mouth shut around pretty girls.” He said, glaring back at the one with fluffy hair, you assumed he was Paul.

The one with curly hair snickered a bit and looked over at Paul, before the one with the cigarette spoke up again, he quickly shut up then.

“I’m David, The guy behind me is Dwayne, and those two are Paul and Marko.” He said

You nodded softly, even their names were hot, what the hell? David and the other three were staring at you with a confusing amount of attention. 

Paul had an almost immediately obsessed or enamored look in his eyes, like you were just the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, Marko also looked absolutely in love with you already, both had the same look in their eyes, the other two, Dwayne and David didn’t seem in love, if they were, they were hiding it well enough. 

“So, where ya off to, sweets?” Paul said, giving you a soft grin.

“Oh, I was about to head home,” You reply, and they all suddenly seem to perk up a bit.

“Oh, really? Well, maybe, instead of that, you could come and hang out with me and the guys?” David asked, motioning to their bikes. 

Something about these four felt…supernatural. They carried themselves with such confidence, and something unseen seemed to be pulling you to them. You thought for a minute. Was it a good idea? Maybe not. It felt too good to be true, four hot boys, paying attention to you? They stared, waiting for your answer. Against your better judgment, you made your choice.

“Sure, I don’t see why I couldn’t.” 

Paul and Marko got visibly excited. Paul grabbed your hand quickly and led you over to their bikes, the other three following behind him, laughing at Paul’s excitement. You were carefully put on the back of one of their bikes and David got on in front of you, looking back at you when you wrap your arms around him.

“Hold on tight, alright?” 

You could only nod before the four sped off, David following behind the more rambunctious two, with Dwayne behind him. 

At the time you didn’t know it, but come the end of the next week, you’d be theirs, and you’d have no complaints about it.

This got so long lol.

Sorry it ended like it did, it's 4 am here and I'd dying.

more coming tomorrow <333

[wooziorgans]

Noan do you not feel anything for nerd!jihoon?!?!?? Do you not fantasize about him being a silent shy nerd until he have you in his room, on his bed, naked, screwing you, raw, filling you up with his load and still not pulling out, just staying in, connected and you wondering where's the nerdy boy.

Thee nerd in question btw (this guy in short hai is my so fqing favorite I can literally do ANYTHING for him 😭😭😭😭 please please please please jihoona)

shy nerd uji

oh lord. oh he’s such a hot loser i need him. god did i have thoughts abt this. also ur other ask is being combined w another ask for the ultimate sub uji story. yeah anyways.

shy nerd!jihoon who practically took you under his wing in your shared chemistry class freshman year. you were lab partners, and he seemed competent enough to help you out personally with the labs, though you asked him for his number after the first class because he was too shy.

jihoon, who only wears tight fitting clothes on lab days because his regular baggy shirts and sweatpants are a safety hazard. you can’t help but stare at his muscles before he puts on his lab coat. his face burns as he slips his goggles on over his glasses.

jihoon, who helps you out with all the calculations for the remainder of the semester, even after you get the hang of it. who panics when you spill sulphuric acid on yourself, even though it has a low molarity so it won’t burn you.

jihoon, who you end up becoming pretty good friends with, even though you only see him once a week in your lab section. he always answers your questions about chemistry, even if you have different professors.

he slowly opens up to you, and you find out in your last study session that he’s actually a music major. you beg him to show you some of his songs, and he agrees, red in the face. on the condition you do well on your chem final.

jihoon, who you managed to keep seeing and hanging out with, even if you no longer share a class together. three years later, at the start of your final year of university, you can mutually say that you’re each others best friends.

shy nerd!jihoon, who isn’t as shy as he used to be, but he gets red in the face whenever you tease him. he still has his walls up around you, certain ones that he doesn’t seem to have with the rest of your friend group.

you can’t deny your attraction to him. his glasses, which he always pushes up as he studies, contrast so starkly with his pale skin. his bulging muscles which radiate heat as autumn starts to roll in.

jihoon cut his hair at the start of the semester, and you thought you’d be more upset with the change, but you can’t argue with the fact that he looks hot as fuck with shorter hair. you’ve seen him grow into a young man over the last few years, and his haircut suits him.

jihoon, who also didn’t go home for the holidays, and so you both spend your week together, catching up on homework and studying. you also spend your break with a multi-day movie marathon in his apartment.

jihoon and his apartment, which you’ve practically been living in for the last few days. your overnight bag sits in the corner of his living room, dirty clothes folded nicely on top of it. your toothbrush sits next to his, and it has him thinking hard about your friendship.

he can’t deny the fact that he thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. he can’t deny how domestic your whole week is going to be, can’t deny how much his chest flutters when you insist on cuddling while you watch movies. he can’t deny the obvious pull towards you, one he can only hope is mutual.

jihoon, who lets you throw your leg over his as you cuddle, his face burning at the outward affection. your breath comes out in small puffs, fist tightening in his shirt as you slowly start to fall asleep with your head on his chest.

jihoon, who wraps his arm around you, hand resting on your thigh. you crane your neck up softly to look at him; his glasses are slipping down his face as he tries to pay attention to the movie. he looks beautiful like this, and you decide to try and play off touching him as a mindless, half asleep action.

your fingers release his shirt, which had pulled up, exposing the base of his stomach to the cool air of his room. you carefully, oh so slowly, trail your fingers down to the skin. you push your hand back up, nails scratching gently against his abs.

jihoon grips your thigh softly, lips parting as his other hand grabs your hand to stop you. his cock twitches softly in his sweats, and you can feel it against the inside of your thigh. “y/n,” he pants, as though he had just run a mile in record time. you flatten your hand against his stomach, pinky brushing against the band of his sweats.

“want you.” you murmur, closing your eyes as you just feel his skin. jihoon gives your thigh another squeeze before his hand falls to your ass. you shift up on his chest, leaning up to kiss his neck softly.

in one quick moment, jihoon flips you over, off of him and onto your back. you squeak softly, all the air leaving your lungs as he straddles your thighs. before you get the chance to say anything, jihoon’s lips are on yours as he starts to kiss you stupid.

you start to pant into his mouth, completely in awe at how good he is at kissing. you had assumed he was a little bit more of a loser with very little experience, but judging by the way he’s kissing you, he clearly knows what he’s doing.

jihoon pushes your shirt up, hand holding your side as his thumb brushes over your nipple. it’s hardly a graze, but it has your back arching off the bed as he pulls away. he smirks at you, hands leaving your body as he pulls his shirt off in one motion. you gasp at the sight of just how ripped he is. jihoon shakes his head as he pushes his glasses up, a sadistic puff of a laugh escaping his lips.

“what, baby? you know i work out.” he whispers, and the pet name he uses has you reeling, back arching back off the bed.

“you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” you gasp, hands pulling at your shirt until you finally get the damn thing off. jihoon just chuckles at how desperate and cute you look right now. he doesn’t wait for you to settle back on w your shirt is off. instead, he gets straight to work, pulling your own sweatpants down. his fingers catch your underwear on the way down, and he decides to just get everything over with at once.

the cool air hits your burning core as jihoon spreads your thighs apart. he settles on his knees as he leans down, pressing soft kisses at the base of your stomach. he trails down further and further, licking at biting at you skin, covering you in light marks that slowly start to darken. finally, his chin brushes against the hood of your clit, and your hands snap to his hair, head falling back as your eyes close.

jihoon laughs again, almost cruel, as he places a kiss to your clit. his tongue darts out, pushing its way in between your folds to taste your arousal. he moans against you, and the vibrations only add to the stimulation. his fingers slowly start to find their way to your core.

he drags them over your entrance, not yet pushing them in as he goes back to focusing on your clit. you look down at him, opening your eyes to find him watching you intently. jihoon pushes two of his fingers into your entrance, and your tight walls suck him in almost instantly.

jihoon locates your spot almost instantly, milking it as he curls his fingers. his lips are suctioned against your clit, and you can’t take it anymore. with the way he’s looking at you, glasses slightly fogged from the heat between your legs and his breath against you, you cum hard around his fingers.

jihoon lets you ride out your orgasm, and once your chest is rising and falling rapidly, you can feel him smirk against you as he pulls his fingers out of you. “good. i wanted to make you cum at least once before i fucked you.” he shifts on his knees, pulling away from your core as his hand finds the knot of his sweats.

he pulls the bow free, slipping them down to his knees before he kicks them off. jihoon’s hard cock slaps his stomach and you lose your breath once again. his cock is big, veiny and so hard. small beads of precum leak from his tip, and he wraps his pretty hand around the head of his cock, coating it in his arousal as he strokes himself languidly.

“you still want this?” he asks as he leans over you. your hands find the side of his face as you nod. “good. been thinking about this for so long, baby. you have no idea.” he breathes out as he lines himself up, tip slipping through your folds.

he pushes in, and slides home in one motion. your walls spasm around him at the stretch. it burns, based on the sheer size of his cock, but you’re so wet it’s hardly a real issue. jihoon gives you a few moments to breathe as he peppers your face with chaste kisses, before he pulls back out, only to slam back in.

the pace he sets is brutal, hard and fast, and you know you won’t last long like this. you guess this is payback for the years of teasing and sexual comments made towards him, just to see him blush and get shy. jihoon pushes his tongue into your mouth, chasing your moans with his mouth.

your nails scratch at his back, crescent indents left behind over the muscles of his shoulders. he hisses at the sting and grips the flesh of your thigh harshly as he jackhammers into you.

it’s so dirty, messy; the slick sounds of jihoon moving inside of you, the repetitive slap of skin on skin, completely filthy as he fucks you like his life depends on it. the way he pushes his glasses back up his face makes your eyes roll back.

jihoon was always so soft and sweet, a naturally kind and gentle person, so to say that you’re losing your mind right now as he fucks you into oblivion would be an understatement. you can’t think, can’t even really make coherent noises as he fucks you. he shifts your hips up, tip of his cock kissing your spot, and it’s over for you.

you cum, the sheer force of your orgasm knocks the sound from your throat. you feel like you’re about to black out; a hot, white wave of pleasure so intense that your senses numb for a moment as you tighten impossibly around jihoon.

you’re so tight and warm and wet, it only takes a few more thrusts for jihoon to spill his load inside of you. he bites his lip as he cums, head thrown back as his own orgasm washes over him.

jihoon collapses on top of you, cock still sheathed in your warm walls. his hands find your hair and waist. his touch is so soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how he was moments ago, that it pulls you back down to earth. you have had the mind to tell him to pull out, but the feeling of still being full, albeit incredibly sensitive, is so nice that you don’t say anything.

“fuck.” you pant, a soft laugh falling from your lips. jihoon rolls you over onto your sides, hand cradling your head to his chest.

“you okay?” he asks quietly.

“yeah. so good. i’m so good right now, you have no idea.” you laugh again, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“i hope that wasn’t too much, baby.” you can feel him smile against your hair.

“it was perfect, hoonie. i just- shit, where’d the shy nerd go? what happened to you?” you ask breathlessly. jihoon laughs quietly, pulling your head back from his skin gently so he can kiss you.

this kiss is so soft and delicate, like he’s afraid of shattering the moment you’re having right now. “dead and gone, baby. no more of that, now that i know you want me just as bad.” he whispers against your lips.

“good. i like being close to you like this.” you smile softly, pecking him once more.

“let’s get you cleaned up. i went kind of rough on you.” jihoon smiles back, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“oh, fuckin’ tell me about it.” you giggle, brushing the hair out of his face.

“karmic retribution, baby. you can’t tease me for three years and think that your actions won’t have consequences.” jihoon laughs as he pulls his softening cock out of you. he hisses softly as he watches his cum slip out of you.

“remind me to keep teasing you if it means you’ll fuck me like that again.” you clench, trying to keep jihoon’s load inside.

“i’d rather you just tell me next time.” he whispers lowly into your ear. you wonder briefly if this new development is for the better, with the way his tone has you throbbing again. jihoon slides off the bed, away from you and you whine at the loss of his warmth.

jihoon throws his head back in a hearty laugh as he leans back over you to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

shy nerd! jihoon, who is all but dead and gone as he runs you a warm bath to soothe your aching muscles. he kisses you sweetly as he sets you down on the counter, massages your thighs and scalp in the warm water.

[sunalee]

jam to my heart — Jay

summary: The handsome guitarist set his eyes on you, and lucky for him, you did the same.

with: Jay (Park Jong-seong)

warnings: rockstar au!, enhypen as a band, jay is a smooth fella, he's charming enough to make my cheeks warm.

a/n: jay with a guitar is such a perfect sight i can't even ratiocinate. Some of the boys aren't metioned, but they're still part of this au.

“C'mon _____, let’s stay on the front so we can see them better!”

Ami calls you out, dragging you through the ’90s themed new pub you’re visiting, “Cords and Jam”. The place is really cool, with black and white checkered floors, red walls with various themed lamps, and posters of classic rock bands. The staff is very friendly, not to mention the drinks and snacks that make you want to spend your whole wallet there.

But the reason you’re here it’s the almost one-year hiatus, not having seen any live show since this period. You miss this environment, the thrill of waiting for the next band to perform, and even the sound check that the musicians do five minutes before the music starts.

Ami told you about this band tonight, Orange Blood. You haven’t heard anything from them yet, but they’re really known on social media for their impressive covers, skilled talent, and very, very, good-looks. 

Rock is great, but a handsome guy playing makes the experience one hundred times better.

She drags you to the front as you both get your bubbling drinks, fortunately not having too many people blocking your path. You don’t mind being in the back of the room, it’s even better to dance there, but you won’t lie, it’s so exciting being right close to the stage, even with the frenetic heartbeats that make you want to take another sip of the drink.

The band finally arrives, five handsome men in their twenties coming in front of the stage. The crowd shouts excitedly, you join them with your own hollering.

“Good night, everyone! I’m Jake, and we are the Orange Blood!” The blonde lead singer announces, a cheeky smile appearing on his face as he hears the crowd’s euphoric cheers.

The drummer, a dark-haired lad with side shaved haircut and looks of a runaway teen, taps four times the drum sticks together, a cue for the other instruments to start playing as well. On Jake’s left side, there’s the keyboard player and the bassist, the two with similar features and exhaling confidence. You heard around their names were Sunghoon and Heeseung. 

But it’s the guitarist on the right side of Jake who catches your attention; suddenly, he’s the only thing you can focus on.

Not only for his great solo at the beginning, but his very charming personality. The way his fingers pluck the strings with such mastery, as if it were as eyes as breathing, his built arms taken by cool tattoo shapes matching with his dark, medium hair, his thin and well cared lips that forms a pleasing smirk whenever he hears a praise from the female crowd. 

And when you hear his smooth, deep voice singing on his microphone, your legs almost give out.

It’s like this man put a spell on you, taking you to a place without time, space or circumstance, all your senses fixed only on him, mind navigating and daydreaming about different scenarios where he’s the main star, and you, his forever partner.

The show was a blast. Everyone had the time of their lives, and Orange Blood for sure would receive a lot of invitations after this concert. The mysterious guitarist wipes his sweating forehead after waving at the crowd, his black regatta clinging on his torso and making him look even more attractive. Unfortunately, he moves away with the rest of the crown, sparing one last glance before going.

That glance goes directly on you.

You don’t know what to think about it, your heart racing and mind numb from the unexpected moment, but before you can try to come up with something, Ami is dragging you by the hand again, leading you to the bar.

She tells you that she’s going to call her friend outside and would be right back. “Don’t accept drinks from strangers” was the last thing she said before leaving. You decide to order another drink, sitting on a free stool there.

You start wondering about what that gaze meant, the sweet flavor of your pinky lemonade helping your mind work even with the pub buzz. But you focus so much on your thoughts, that you don’t notice the main problem right in front of you, brown eyes staring at you with amusement.

“Pinky lemonade?  Sweeter than I thought you would be, huh?” That smooth, dreamy voice wakes you up, making your heart suddenly flips as you finally realize who just sat beside you. He gives you another one of his charming smirks, supporting his jawline on his hand while he extends the other in your direction. “Jay. A pleasure.”

“______.” Best say your name right away than rambling trying to come up with a sentence. “I-It’s nice to meet you too. You played amazing tonight.” You can’t help but blurt your thoughts. 

“You think so?” He tilts his head, looking even more interested now, his eyes following you like a cat gazing at its prey.

You bite inside your mouth, feeling uneasy but not in a bad way. “Yeah, totally.” You nod to your own sentence. Jay tries to hold back a chuckle. “Uh, shouldn’t you be in your dressing room after playing?”

“And lose the party? What’s the fun in that?” He questions, raising his pointer finger to call the barman. “Same thing she’s having.”

Now you can’t help your chuckle. “Are you a sweet man too?” Your interest wins your nerves, showing Jay your playful side that he’ll surely enjoy in the future.

“I don’t like getting drunk. Especially not when I’ve just met a pretty girl like you.” He flirts without shame, making you swoop into his charm so easily that you even forget that you came with Ami here. Not that she wouldn't support you, anyway.

“I don’t know If I should be flattered.” But you’re not hooked enough to be fooled. Whatever this man wants with you, you want to figure it out now.

He gives you a knowing smile, as he just reads you like an open book in front of him. His pinky lemonade comes just in time for his answer, his hand holding the glass but not taking his brown eyes off you.

He wants you to know that feeling too.

“You should be.” He answers honestly, self-confidence boosting around him. “ It’s not every day that I set my eyes on someone special.” He moves to click his glass with yours, taking his time to take a small sip of his drink before leaning close to you, gaze and smirk never faltering.

“And when I find someone special, doll, I don’t lose my chance.”

© sunalee 2024 — all rights reserved.

[ftmtftm]

I've been scrolling through your blog, and I saw your post about discussing the racialized nature of gender. As someone who has several transmasc POC friends, and someone who's a nonbinary POC themself, I wanted to give my 2 cents.

It's important to understand that "woman" in the "man vs woman" gender binary is a colonialist, white supremacist construct, especially in Western countries where you are the numerical minority. My trans friends aren't on T, they haven't gotten top surgery, we are all quite young. But they all have numerous stories about being addressed as "sir" which brings them euphoria but as one person said, while we were making fun of the amount of white people in our club, "Due to my race and skin color, I get masculinized."

And again I'd like to emphasize, that since we're young, none of us really have medically transitioned due to financial and familial barriers. Their hair is long, our binders we definitely have notable chests, and even if they dress masculine, it's notable that no one in our communities would ever gender us properly. It's often white people calling them "sir." Again, I think this reflects how gender performances in mainstream queer communities are deeply White. Like, trans boys talk about having haircuts, but only one of my friends has that wavier, more manageable hair that will help them pass. When you've got curly/kinky hair, the standards are different. For a white person, what's the difference between a "girl" Afro and a boy "Afro"? White cis people have a harder time identifying us, and literally talk to any black girl, and they'll tell you about being mocked, dehumanized, and called "manly".

I don't have much else to say. These are just my personal experiences. But if you want to be an ally to POC in the queer community, this is why it's so fucking important to bring in colonialism/imperialism/white supremacy into discussions of queer liberation. My biggest gripe with ignorant white queers is when they ignore their white privilege, and act like "cishets" (AKA the patriarchal system regulating sexuality and gender) is the only enemy. Because cishet POC deal with plenty of shit with being infantilized, masculinized, feminized, seen as brutish & dangerous, the list goes on. Doberbutts had a post saying, "Believe me, your family's going to care more about me being black than my queerness." towards his white partners. Acknowledging and creating a framework that centers these intersections of queerness and race into your beliefs is true allyship. This is why if you're not anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist, ACAB...I do not think you care for queer liberation. None of us are free until all of us are free.

Please don't view this post as an attack. But this is my perspective, and I thought you'd be receptive to me sharing my lived experiences.

Oh I absolutely don't view this ask as an attack, and I really appreciate you bringing these things up because you're right! Like, just very plainly: You are right and your and your friends lived experiences are extremely important to the conversation on the racialized aspects of gender.

It gets me thinking about where Misogynoir and the social White Fear of Black manhood intersect for Black trans men in particular. Because Black women and Women of Color in general are masculinized by White gender standards and the ways in which Black trans masculine people are gendered in alignment with their identity is absolutely not always done with gender affirming intent. In fact, it's often actually done with racist intent or is fueled by racist bias when it's coming from White people or even from non-Black POC.

That's kind of restating things you've said but differently, it's just such a topic worth highlighting explicitly since it's extremely relevant to the conversation that's been happening about Male Privilege here the last few days.

I do think I know exactly what @doberbutts post you're talking about and yeah. It's just truth. It's something Black queer people have been talking about for ages in both theory and in pop culture (my mind immediately goes to Kevin Abstract and "American Boyfriend") where Black queer/trans identity is both materially different from (neutral) and is treated differently from (negative) White queer/trans identity in multitudes of ways and those differences are worth sharing and exploring and talking about.

Genuinely, thank you for sharing! I try really hard not to lead these kinds of conversations outside of explicitly referencing back to non-White theorists because I don't particularly feel like it's my place to do so, but I will always provide a platform for them because they're extremely important conversations to be had.

[cherriemi]

Trivia Night

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

in: reid has always noticed every tiny detail about you, the slight change in your hair or attitude. so when you throw a birthday party and include a trivia game for your unit to learn more about you, spencer gets every question right.

tw: improper capitalization, fluff, non-consensual kiss (let me know if there is anything else!)

a/n: this is my FIRST ff writing in years, so yes it’s bad and yes i’m rusty. please be nice to me :,(

wc: 2.3k

you walked into the office… and he could instantly tell something was off. it didn’t take long until he remembered that your hair was now shorter. you had gotten a haircut and he would be first to comment.

“did you get a haircut y/n?” he asked as you placed your bag on your desk. you nodded, “is it that short??” messing with your hair and seeing if the ends are shorter than you had remembered. “no, i like it.” a smile formed on his face. “thank you.” you looked away, flustered. 

he always noticed changes first. they were compliments, questions of concern. it never weirded you out as he admitted to having an eidetic memory. it just frustrated you that he always knew what was different. 

“i haven’t seen you in red… it compliments your undertones a lot.” 

“your makeup looks different, did you put on eyeliner? i quite like it.” 

“what happened to your finger? be careful next time okay?” 

“let’s get started for our case review.” hotchner poked his head out from the conference room. you grabbed what you needed and head up the steps with reid just behind you.

it was your birthday! you had invited your co-workers as they were the only people you really knew. joining the team only half a year ago, you moved away from your dream location but moved into a better job. 

you anxiously waited for someone to show up. your apartment was decorated, food cooked and the vinyl record playing smooth jazz. one of your favorite records, it was a compilation of a few popular artists and songs. you had found it selling for $2.99 at an estate sale back from your old job. 

you heard a couple voices from outside the door and then a knock. you rushed to the door, checking the peephole. it was hotchner and prentiss. 

the door door swung open, “happy birthday!!” emily prentiss cheerily pulled you in for a hug. hotchner smiled, repeating back what emily said with a back pat. “gifts can go over there.” your hand gestured towards the kitchen island. 

soon enough derek morgan and penelope garcia showed up, then jennifer and rossi. the party already seemed to be starting but you knew someone was missing. spencer reid appeared, exactly 25 minutes later than you had told the group chat. 

“come on reid!” derek and jennifer teased the boy. he was red on the face, a card in one hand and the other holding onto the strap of his messenger bag. he was dressed as he usually was: dress shoes, trousers, and a button up with a vest over. “sorry, i had to take the subway.” he responded. 

you grabbed the card from his hands, “it’s okay reid, go ahead and help yourself.” you set the card on the island as he walked over towards the pots and pans. he helped himself to some chicken and pasta. 

after the eating and cake cutting, it was gift giving time. you opened all the gifts in the kitchen while everyone watched. most of your co-workers gifted you a card with money but penelope had gifted wrapped a gift for you. you torn it open and found a bow ribbon set. you smiled and hugged her. 

you called everyone to the living room. emily, jennifer, penelope and derek had crushed themselves on the loveseat while rossi claimed the single seater you had. you grabbed your two only other chairs and placed them next to where rossi was. hotchner and reid sat in the new present chairs. 

you grabbed your phone which was connected to the tv and opened a slideshow, “y/n’s trivia night.” read rossi.

penelope sat up, “oh i am so good at these!” 

you reached behind the tv and checked for the gift card. “i thought that since i was the newest addition to the team… i would have a trivia game so you could learn more about me!” you pulled out a $50 visa gift card, “i prepared a prize for the 1st place winner… a $50 visa gift card!” everyone cooed at the possibility for a prize. “free money? now i’m in!” rossi joked. 

the first round was a multiple choice section, and each correct answer was worth 1 point. you explained the rules to your co-workers. the first question appeared on the slide. what is y/n’s favorite color? 

C. B. A. A. D. E. B. “the correct answer is B, one point to penelope and reid!” penelope nudged derek as he groaned. you assumed they had argued about your favorite color. 

another question, when is y/n’s birthday?

A. A. A. A. B. D. C. “the correct answer is… C! point to reid!” everyone groaned, especially those at the loveseat. they all answered your trick question, which had the incorrect year. 

you finished out the round 1 questions until everyone noticed a pattern. reid had gotten every single question correct. penelope would be a close second if 6 and 4 were neighbors. then emily and jennifer were tied, hotchner at 5th, rossi at 6th and derek dead last. penelope teased derek after the rankings were called out. 

you introduced round two, a free response round where each question was worth two. you admitted this round had more leeway as you could get 1 point for getting part of the answer but it had to be specific enough to warrant the 2 points. 

this round went by slower. without the help of given answers they had to use their brain power to create an answer. the first question was rough for many. hotchner got the single point for guessing your favorite childhood tv show but reid ultimately got the 2 points for getting the entire title. 

round two was so horrible, you ended up having to provide one hint per person to get points. you would have regretted making it a free response section if reid hadn’t gotten all the questions right again. 

you read the rankings, reid, penelope, hotchner, jennifer, emily, rossi and derek. 

you announced the third and final round. “it’s a single question.” everyone relaxed. “this question is worth double all your points.” everyone sat up. everyone but derek, rossi and emily had a chance to overcome reid, but it all came down to if reid missed the question. 

you read the question. gave them a few minutes as you served more champagne. after the minutes were up you counted down from 3 and had everyone revealed their answers. to everyone’s surprise reid had gotten the answer correct. almost exact to how you worded it on the tv. 

you read the final results. “last place is tied with derek and rossi at 5 points… emily with 8, hotchner with 10, jennifer with 11, penelope with 14 and reid with… 36.” 

derek stood up, “cheaters don’t win!” reid was red at the attention. you pulled the visa gift card and handed it to reid with a smile. penelope clapped for reid and joined jennifer, hotchner and rossi. derek was pouting. “excuse derek, he’s being a jerk.” peneople elbowed derek. 

the party went on for another hour until derek and peneople noted the time. “we have to go y/n, sorryyy.” peneople apologized. you bid them farewell. soon enough emily and jennifer wanted to leave as well. with emily and jennifer leaving, rossi and hotchner left after wishing you happy birthday for the third time. 

you were wrapping the food when reid entered after his bathroom break. “did everyone leave?” he asked. 

“yup, you can leave too… it won’t bug me.” you reassured reid in case he was waiting to leave. 

he approached you in the kitchen. “do you need help?” you looked at him, “if you could wrap the left over pasta, i would appreciate that.” 

he grabbed a sheet a tinfoil and sealed the ends. “could i actually take some of the pasta home?” he asked. you nodded, “of course! take however much you’d like.” you handed him a container. 

he spooned the pasta into the container. “you’re a wonderful cook y/n.” another compliment. 

“thank you,” escaped a smile while you felt your cheeks get warm. you pushed your lower back against the island. reid was taking more pasta. “are you a cheater?” you asked. 

he shut the container before turning around. “i’ve never dated so-“ 

“no i mean the game.” you cut through. he turned red. “how would i cheat?” it was a question of interest. he didn’t know the answer which was out of the norm for him. “i’m just surprised you got a perfect 100 on my trivia game.” 

reid’s mouth turned upwards, “eidetic memory y/n.” the eye contact was too much. “you say that, but can’t tell hotchner when his birthday is.” you rebutted. it was a question that hotchner blurted out during the game. emily prentiss, rossi and even derek knew his birthday but spencer had failed to come up with the correct answer. 

reid was chewing the inside of his mouth. “hotchner is old and uninteresting.” he jabbed at his boss. “and i am?” he nodded. “new people are always more interesting.” 

you had looked away. reid’s eye contact was too much for you. it was odd, he almost never could hold eye contact with anyone on the team but you? come to think of it, this was the first time since being transferred to the BAU that you and reid were alone. whenever the team split, reid was somehow in your group by chance but when it was one on one, you were paired with jennifer or hotchner.

in the beginning hotchner just wanted to get to see your working style and see how you handled people. after the first months, you had built a relationship with jennifer and she always pulled you away. she loved to hear what you thought about the other members, but you never told her the truth about reid. as a new member, it would leave a sour taste in their mouths if you immediately had issues with one member.

it wasn’t an issue though, it was more of an observation. 

he knew when you were born, he knew where you had transferred from, he knew your favorite genre of music and books, and now he knew where you lived. “is everything okay y/n?” reid cut through the silence. 

you realized it had been a couple minutes of silence. you avoided his eye contact and were zoning out. “yes…” you replied. reid stepped closer. “are you sure?” here he was asking you questions. he can sense the change in you. “yes, reid.” you replied. 

reid paused. “i got you a gift,” he dug into his bag, “but i was worried you wouldn’t like it.” he pulled out a small box. one that looked like it would house a necklace. he moved closer to you and reached his arm out. 

you took the box and opened it. inside was a necklace. gold, heart shaped with a beautiful gem in the middle that shined with the kitchen lights. “oh, it’s so pretty reid.” you lifted the necklace out of the box, unclasped it and slipped it on. 

reid analyzed. you could hear his breathing. in and out. in and out. once the necklace was on, reid asked, “does it fit well?” you knew it took a lot of effort, “perfectly.” you mumbled in response. 

reid hadn’t stepped back. you two were closer than ever. his hand brushed against clothing and reached for your chin. he lifted your face to look him in the eye. your cheeks were warming up faster than ever.

you both stayed silent. his hand wrapped around, sitting politely on your cheek. then before you could react, he leaned forward, his lips touching yours. 

at first, you were surprised at the sudden gestures of reid. he was quite germaphobic, refusing to even shake hands. that was your first lesson in the fbi, reid didn’t like being touched. he took the largest step back when you went in for a hand shake and hotchner behind you, “he doesn’t like hand shakes, i should’ve told you that.”

you could not resist. his lips were soft, his hand warmed your cheek and his free arm found it’s way around your waist. your body spoke that he wasn’t being rejected, and he pulled you in closer. 

it felt like the kiss had lasted minutes when he finally pulled back. “sorry,” he apologized, stepping back.

before he could go any further, you grabbed his collar and pulled him into another kiss. now he was surprised but that didn’t last longer than a split second. he cupped your face and kissed you. you opened your mouth slightly and he slipped his tongue inside, feeling around you. he pulled back taking the messenger bag he had donned all night off. returning, he held onto your waist while you reached for the back of his neck. 

everything clicked for you. he remembered all the small and obscure details about you because he was interested in you. when you told reid your favorite color because he noticed the different tops you had of that one color, when you told reid that your birthday was the reason for your favorite season. everytime reid asked you if you had changed your hair or makeup, it was because he had remembered that you keep your hair down and your makeup minimal. 

you pulled back, “you remembered everything about me because you were interested didn’t you.” reid was blushed, you weren’t sure if it was due to the kissing or the comment or maybe he was just hot. “i’m guilty…” he nodded, avoiding eye contact.

you begged reid to tell you the when and why. he was so embarrassed. admitting that he had never had a crush, and he asked hotchner what it meant to have an anxious feeling around a woman. “hotchner laughed at me and said that i was too smart to not know what attraction was.” reid told you. it was safe to say, that reid did not leave your apartment that night– in fact… he stayed the night at your apartment quite often. 

[topguncortez]

Hold My Hand | Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

Opposites Attract Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: Y/N notices a change with her body, and Jake is there to give her the support she needs.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of a c-section, postpartum, breastfeeding, unprotected sex, shower sex, fear of doctors, mentions of breast cancer

Y/N felt like she knew more about how a woman’s body changes during pregnancy than her own doctor. By the time she was having baby three, she was an old pro and could tell you exactly what stage of development the fetus was in, how the mother’s body was changing, and the size of the baby. Y/N knew that every pregnancy was different, and each one of hers was different than the last. She knew that being pregnant with twins was going to be vastly different than being pregnant with just one. However, she never accounted for how different it was going to be. 

A C-section was never in the cards for Y/N, but she didn’t really have a choice when she was whisked away by doctors and nurses and taken to an operating room. She didn’t really remember much about it, she could remember being cold, feeling exposed, the scent of burning flesh. But she did remember the feeling of her baby boys being placed on her chest for the first time. She remembered the feeling of Jake running his fingers through her hair and telling her she did a good job. She remembered the bright faces of her other three children when they got to hold the last Seresin babies in their arms. 

Ever since that day, Y/N vowed to do things how she did for the last three pregnancies. She chose to breastfeed the best she could. It was a challenge at first, her milk didn’t come in right away from having the twins early, and due to the c-section. But it got easier once she did start producing, in fact, she started over-producing and woke up most mornings with sore breasts. Jake was great help, waking up during the night to help her feed the twins, and getting her breast pump ready for her. 

The first time she felt the lump was in the middle of the night. Jasper had woken up and was hangry. Y/N told Jake to stay in bed, and that it was just one of the twins that wanted attention. She had gotten him situated to feed when she felt the painful lump on her chest. Y/N had brushed it off, thinking it was just a clogged milk duct. She made sure to feed Jasper on that side, hoping that he could get the clog out. When Jasper was done feeding, Y/N burped him and wrapped him back up in his swaddle.

Y/N didn’t think anything of it, until about two weeks later. 

She and Jake had finally gotten a private moment to themselves. The older three Seresins were at school, and the twins were down for a nap. Y/N placed the baby monitor on the shelf next to the shower and dragged her husband in there with her. Sexy time with Jake was something as few and far between as the passing of Halley’s Comet. They had gotten good at mastering the art of quickies; in the shower, in the garage, in the back of Y/N’s Cadillac SUV. 

Jake’s hands were roaming Y/N’s wet skin, as his mouth was on hers. His cock was gently thrusting in and out of her, trying to make their private moment last as long as it could. Her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling on the blonde locks that had grown way past acceptable for the Navy. Jake was clearly enjoying his time off as much as Y/N was; not having to wake up early, shave every single day, and get constant weekly haircuts. 

“Fuck, sweets,” Jake groaned, as he pressed kisses to her neck. His strong hands held her up against the shower wall, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” Y/N moaned, tilting her head back. Jake’s tongue moved across her skin, down to her breast. The moment his tongue came in contact with her nipple she let out a hiss and pulled him back by his hair. 

“You okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of concern, “Is it mas-” 

“Please,” Y/N groaned, “Do not talk about mastitis while your cock is inside me.” 

Jake chuckled and kissed her. He didn’t waste any more time, knowing that at any moment the babies could start crying and want attention. He brought his hand down between their bodies, circling her clit in slow tantalizing circles, bringing her over the edge with his name falling from her lips like a prayer. 

“I’ll go check on, ‘em,” Jake said, as he slipped on his sweatpants. His hair was still damp from the shower, and Y/N still stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in only her towel. She hummed in agreement, and Jake kissed the side of her head before going towards the twins’ nursery. 

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror, waiting for Jake’s voice to come over the baby monitor. She let out a shaky breath as she dropped her towel, and ever so gently, ran her fingers along the side of her breast. The moment her fingers came in contact with what she hoped disappeared weeks ago, she let out a small sob. 

— — — 

One of Valeria Bates-Machado’s favorite things was being able to take care of her friends’ kids. It brought her joy seeing them year after year and seeing how much they have grown. She always made the check-ups less scary for parents and kids. Val had been the Seresin kids’ doctor since they were born and knew probably as much about them as their parents did. This was why Val found it a bit odd that Jasper and Maxwell Seresin were on her schedule for the day. 

“Y/N,” Val said, as she entered the room, “What brings you in today?” 

Y/N gave Val a small smile, “Nothing, just a check-up.” 

Val nodded, “I just saw them three weeks ago.” 

“Well, Jasper seemed to be a little congested.” 

Val nodded again, still not believing the smile on Y/N’s face. It didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did, and she never just showed up like this when her kids had the flu. Y/N was a mom times five, she knew what to do when her babies showed signs of congestion. 

But Val did the check-up either way, and confirmed what Y/N thought, that Jasper did have some congestion, but it was nothing that warranted a visit like this. Val ordered some medicine for the little boy, and held him while Y/N got Maxwell out to feed. 

“So how are things?” Val asked, “When does Jake go back to work full-time?” 

“Next week,” Y/N mumbled, looking down at Maxwell, “He’s excited-” 

“And you’re not?” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the tears that were welling up in her throat. Val’s eyes softened as she looked at her friend, “What’s going on?” 

“I…. I need your help with something. I know you’re a pediatrician, but you’re one of the only doctors I trust and you know I don’t trust doctors, and I-” 

“Shh,” Val said, reaching for her friend’s hand, “I got you. Whatever it is, I got you. We’ll get through this.” 

— — — 

It had been a week. 

A slow, dreadful, anxiety-filled week.

Every call, every email, every text message had sent a tiny jolt of anxiety through Y/N’s body. Val said she would reach out to her the second that she got the results back. They had agreed to take it one step at a time, starting with taking some scans. Y/N tried her best to remember that they couldn’t do anything else without getting those scans back, but it didn’t stop her mind from jumping to the worst-case scenario. 

Jake had noticed over the past week that something had been off with Y/N. He couldn’t quite explain it or put his finger on it. She was quieter than normal, shying away from his touches. She had decided to switch to bottles full time, instead of breastfeeding. And every time she held her babies, she would squeeze them just a bit tighter and hold them just a bit longer. 

“What’s going on with you?” Jake asked, as he set down a bowl of ice cream with a caramel brownie in front of her, “You’re never this quiet.” 

“Just tired,” Y/N answered, running a hand over her face, “Having Eli home this week has been a change.” 

Jake nodded, still eyeing his wife. The kids had long since been put to bed, after bathtime and several bedtime stories. It was just the two of them, each having an extra slice of the desert, revealed in the quiet house and alone time. Jake let the silence stretch out a little longer, the only sound was the quiet hum from the baby monitor and the clinking of spoons against the bowl. 

“Alright,” Jake sighed, taking the bowl away from his wife, “Talk to me. What’s going on?” 

“Noth-” 

Jake gave her a look and Y/N returned it with an irritated glare. But the facade only lasted for a minute, before her eyes turned glassy, and her cheeks heated up. Jake’s jaw dropped slightly, as the tears started to flow down her cheeks. Y/N buried her face in her hands and quiet sobs escaped her lips. 

Y/N Seresin was not a woman who cried.  

Y/N Seresin was a tough woman, who hid her tears and walked through hell with a smile. 

Jake Seresin was at a total loss on what to do as his wife cried in front of him. 

He waited for a moment, letting her get her tears out. He grew up with sisters to know that sometimes, you just need to cry it out. That asking questions and trying to figure out why at the moment could make it all worse. Jake waited until the tears had somewhat subsided, before grabbing one of her hands and pulling it away from her face. When her sobs turned into sniffles, Jake squeezed her hand, letting her know that she had the floor to talk. 

“I found a lump,” Y/N whispered, her eyes closed. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, “I found it a couple of weeks ago, I thought it was just a clogged duct. I went to see Val for some scans and I… They want to run some tests.” She opened her eyes and looked at her husband

Jake didn’t know what to say. 

What do you even say in a situation like this? 

Jake swallowed thickly as he leaned forward in his chair, squeezing her hand. He opened his mouth several times, racking his brain for things to say. 

‘It’ll be alright.’

‘We’ll figure it out.’ 

‘How bad is it?’ 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Everything Jake was thinking of saying, just didn’t sound right to say out loud. So instead, he sat there, and held her hand.

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[cher-rei]

Can I request a Jamal fic where the reader is his girlfriend but she’s an interviewer and she’s tasked to interview him and he tries to distract her and make her laugh the whole time when she’s supposed to stay professional.

man of the match– jamal musiala [ J.M ]

I thought that I was dreaming, when you said you loved me [ivy— frank ocean]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: composure on camera?? what even it that?

genre(s): fluff

[w.c: 806] masterlist

notes: I wrote this in like 30 minutes help

the stadium's thunderous applause enveloped jamal as he accepted his man of the match trophy, his eyes shining with pride. you, with your mic in hand, stepped forward, professional smile faltering for a moment when your eyes met.

this wasn't the first time that you were tasked to interview your boyfriend, and it definitely won't be the last. but whenever you caught him on the pitch for a quick word for the camera, he couldn't stop the smile that crept onto his lips. it was just another reason to tease you, and he found it difficult to not lose himself in your eyes.

and today wasn't any different.

“jamal, congratulations on an incredible performance! would you care to take us through your thoughts on today's match?” you asked, your voice carrying over the din and for a moment he didn't answer.

he just stood there, trophy in hand with a smile that was all too contagious for your liking. it was as if he was mapping your features that he's more than familiar with, but he would never get sick of it. his dazed gaze travelled from your glistening eyes, to your flush cheeks under the stadium lights.

when you realized what was happening you cleared your throat and kicked his leg, thankful that it was out of frame. he jolted up, recollecting his thoughts with a bashful laugh.

“thank you! I think the team played amazingly. and I'm not just saying that because i got the award today,” he chuckled and you felt your smile deepening with a fond warmness.

as you continued with the questioning, jamal's mischief began to surface. he playfully examined the award, pretending to admire his reflection in the it's shiny surface.

“do you think I should get a haircut? this trophy makes my hair look weird,” he joked, running a hand through his locks.

you blinked up at him for a moment, a confused hum leaving your lips as you looked back to the camera but when you looked back at jamal, he was gesturing the award in your direction— your reflection clearly showing, which made him coo in awe.

your eyes sparkled, lips twitching but you had to remain composed. “j, focus please.”

the footballer feigned innocence, putting a hand on his chest in mock offense. “what? I'm just making sure that I look good for the cameras.”

the surrounding cameramen and interviewers couldn't help but laugh at his charming response, and your composure began to slip.

you sighed. “okay, let's try again. what was going through your mind during that stunning goal?”

jamal's expression turned thoughtful, but only for a moment, which gave you hope thay you'd get a proper answer this time around. “actually, I was thinking that you were going to kill me if I don't give you a good interview.”

your face flushed and your eyes darted around the stadium before returning to your boyfriend was visibly pleased with how riled up he was getting you. he wasn't going to hear the end of it on the ride home but he didn't care because what did you expect?

“you're impossible,” you muttered, causing the nearby operators and journalists to snicker, drawn in by the lighthearted banter.

you had to continue though, regardless of jamal's unseriousness. “and what about the team's strategy for the next match?”

jamal leaned in at the question,conspiratorial whisper escaping his lips. “I'll tell you a secret. we're going to…” he leaned in, pausing ever so subtly which had you leaning in out of genuine curiosity, his answer exciting you. “...play really well!”

this boy.

the crowd erupted into laughter, and you playfully rolled your eyes. “thanks jamal, that was really enlightening.”

as the interview concluded, you did get a few good answers and comments out of him and he handed you his award, his fingers brushing against yours. “hold this for me please, love. I need to get my phone out.”

your heart leapt at the term of endearment that he nonchalantly let slip, the flush on your cheeks earning a laugh from your boyfriend who was more than delighted you have you this shy in public.

still, jamal wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer for the picture. there was nothing to do but oblige, so you held the award close and smiled warmly. the camera flash from the photographers went off as well to illuminated your beaming smiles as you posted together.

your laughter lingered, along with his arm around your waist. the stadium was captivated with the chemistry between the two of you, a comfortable atmosphere settling around the two of you as you went though the pictures.

when everything was over you hopped onto your tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss onto your boyfriend's cheek. “well done, baby. you were amazing today.”

it was jamal's turn to be a blushing mess, his legs nearly giving in on him at the sudden affectionate gesture. you clapped your hands in triumph, turning quickly to look at the cameramen in front of you.

“yes! did you get that on camera?”

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the crowleying of your mascot's hair.

Good morning maggots, as I write this it is 11:53 pm on the uh, asmi10kpocalypse/10khaos (both stunning names, whichever of you came up with them please walk on stage and take a goddamn bow) and I have awoken from deep slumber.

The Good News: My hair is dyed! The Bad News: It was torture that I nearly fainted from!

Okay well uh, we know what I'm best at, and it's summaries of chaos. So without further ado (much ado about nothing ahahah everything is a 10k reference now), here we go:

It starts, as it will end, in my room in front of the laptop screen.

Now, as you know, I said I would dye my hair after I scarfed down my lunch. I do that and I also take a nap because fuck yeah, sleep.

I check tumblr one last time, grab my phone without charging it, tell my mum I'm dyeing my hair, and begin the walk to the salon.

On my phone is Arthur, @howmanyholesinswisscheese, who as a cishet deadbeat dad of a lot of us, is the worst person to ask for hair advice, but I do it anyway. I need a reference photo for a haircut.

Arthur helpfully scours the internet and comes up with options that include: Gay, hot history teacher, Joe Locke but something's off about it, same as above but different slightly and I can't place it, top 20 haircuts for crazy people, top 100 teen boy haircuts for teens, mullet slash hot history teacher, Hozier, why does the teen boy have a beard, Aussie AFL player, and Chris Hemsworth.

His words, not mine. Does anyone want to check in on Arthur's history teacher because I am getting very concerned for that man.

So I pick a haircut and land up at the salon. Arthur also tells me my hair is wild and I have needed a haircut for too long. Thanks dad.

The hairdressers are not pleased when I point to the red shade and tell them to bleach and dye my entire hair.

They inform me it will look like shit.

They keep asking if I'm sure. I say, with increasing annoyance, that yes I am.

Arthur is in the phone enabling me, yelling that I need to do it for crowley and "THEY DON'T GET TO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO"

The hairdressers then say they're out of red hair dye, I can either do a magenta or come back the next day.

Arthur tells me to leave and go to another salon.

So I do, and I wind up at the salon right next door (Arthur and I cheer for capitalism), an extremely seedy looking place with a poorly painted stairwell that could well be haunted.

I tell the hairdressers there what I want, and they also argue with me about how it will fade, look like shit, etc etc.

Arthur says "THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, THEY'RE JUST HAIRDRESSERS"

He tells me that if Crowley can keep the Bentley together through hellfire through sheer will, I can do the same for my hair.

Finally, they huddle in front of a laptop, muttering, and agree to take me on.

I am then also hair-shamed by the stylist, who tells me in no uncertain terms that if I don't cut my hair as soon as it grows out even slightly, it looks "kharab", which is Hindi for... 'substandard, inferior, bad, shoddy, deficient'. Thanks, mate.

The haircut is done. What follows then is on of the top five most excruciatingly painful experiences of my life.

No, I'm serious. The bleaching and dyeing. It was. Fuck.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

JUST THE MEMORY HURTS

OKAY NEXT PART OF THE SAGA I WILL REBLOG THIS IT IS GETTING TOO LONG

IF YOU WANT THE HAIR REVEAL THEN YOU WILL HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS LIKE I DID, I'M AFRAID

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: kidnapping, angst

Summary: Your life hangs in the balance when it takes a dangerous turn. People are after the Princess of Yacleira, and they’ll do whatever possible to make sure they get what they want. Ben is called down to America to help out in any way that he can. After all, you’re still his Princess and he still has a duty to uphold.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: kidnapped au (2021) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Spencer walks into work the next day with his head hung low and a frown on his face. He didn’t even stop to get coffee which is shocking since he always has a craving for the sugary substance. Penelope and Derek walk out of the break room together and see how sad Spencer looks.

“Hey, you didn’t come back yesterday. How did it go?” she asks.

“She denied it all. I don’t know if I can be with someone who isn’t truthful.”

Penelope must have told Derek what happened because of what Derek says next.

“All you do is talk about this girl, man. I know how much you like her.”

Spencer can only shrug.

“Maybe there is a reason why she’s being so cagey. Maybe she’s scared of something.”

Spencer feels bad for not giving you time to explain yourself. It just came as a shock when he found out the girl he really likes isn’t the girl he likes at all. You’re someone different from a world he knows nothing about. He isn’t stupid. He saw the look of panic on your face when he showed you the articles. You’re scared but he mistook it as being guilty. Maybe you were but he shouldn’t have reacted that way.

“I’ll go back to her place later and talk to her. Right now, we have a case.”

Spencer forces you to the back of his mind so he can focus on his job. You don’t know what happened after you fell asleep in Don’s car but you have a feeling of dread that something isn’t right. You open your eyes and roll your head to the right since you’re still kind of out of it. The first thing you notice is a woman sitting behind a computer typing furiously. She hasn’t noticed you yet so you scan the rest of the room in curiosity.

There is a younger man with a boy-band haircut standing over a collection of knives. He grabs one of them and twirls the blade in his hands as if he’s trying to get used to the weight of it. Sitting on the couch to the left are two men relaxing--one of them has his arms draped over the back of the couch and the other has his right leg crossed over his left. You blink furiously to get your vision to focus because you recognize one of the men sitting on the couch.

“Jacob?”

All three men and the woman look in your direction when they hear your name.

“Ah, look who’s awake,” Jacob grins.

“What is going on?”

Panic sets in and you look down to see yourself tied to a chair in the middle of the room. You yank on your restraints but whoever tied you down did a good job in making sure you won’t go anywhere.

“Struggling is only going to make it worse.”

“What is going on?” you ask again, this time more sternly. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’ve been kidnapped. Where is Don? The last thing you remember is being in a car with Don. Yes, you were escaping. Oh, Spencer, I messed up. “Please, whatever you think I have, I don’t so you may as well just let me go.”

The front door into the house opens and you see someone you trusted walk in. Don heaves a black duffel bag onto the coffee table and points to the man who has his leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t say a word as he grabs the bag and opens it. Don hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time, not even as he approaches you. He grabs the armrests of your chair and leans down closer to you, and you crane your neck back to put some distance between you two.

“Don?”

“You’re going to make us a pretty penny.” He sees the look in your eyes. “God, you’re so trusting sometimes. You didn’t even bother checking to make sure I was Don.”

“What?” you whisper.

“My name is James and your mother and father would pay a great amount of money to get their daughter back, the Princess of Yacleira.”

You look around the room and see pictures of you as a barista and as a princess all over their wall. How could you not see James for who he really was? Mr. Boy-Band looks at you from the kitchen with a slight grin as he continues to twirl the knife in his hands.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you ask, looking at him with unshed tears in your eyes.

“Not if you behave. I’m not one for torture but Ryder is,” you look at Mr. Boy-Band who slams the sharp end of the knife into a cutting board, “and he won’t be gentle about it. Jacob and Kellen,” you look at the two men on the couch, “thrive on psychological torture. Macy,” you look at the woman behind the computer, “will go after the ones you love. You have no power here.”

“You won’t get away with this,” you glare.

“Oh, princess, we’ve been getting away with it before you stepped foot in this country.” He takes out a small digital camera from his pocket and aims it at you. “Say cheese, princess.”

He takes your picture knowing how scared and vulnerable you look. Please don’t hurt Spencer. Anyone but him. When Spencer got his lunch break, he headed over to your house to try and salvage whatever was left of your relationship. He tried calling you before he left but it wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t answer. He knocks on your door and waits but after five minutes of waiting, he frowns.

“Who are you?”

Spencer turns to see an older muscular man standing on the sidewalk in front of your house.

“Spencer Reid. Who are you?” Spencer asks.

“My name is Benjamin and I’m trying to find Don Stockwell.”

“Yeah, he lives here with a young girl. I’m trying to get ahold of her but she isn’t answering. No one is answering the door which is a little concerning.”

“What do you mean?”

“I found out something about her and I didn't take it well. That was yesterday, and I was coming over here to apologize but she isn’t answering.”

Benjamin steps up to the door and takes out a key that he uses to get inside. Benjamin goes into protective mode and searches the place from top to bottom while Spencer stays by the front door, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t want to snoop but he also doesn’t want to leave. Ben seems like he knows Don well enough to do this, and Spencer has too many questions to want to leave right now.

“Where did they go?” Ben asks.

“I don’t know.” Ben approaches the basement door that is locked with a padlock. He takes out small bolt cutters and removes the padlock by force. “Do you always keep bolt cutters on you?”

“Stay up here.”

Benjamin walks down the stairs into the basement, glad that Spencer can at least follow directions. The basement is like any other with boxes and other junk piled up in different corners. However, there is a large ice chest by the far wall that’s plugged in. He walks over to it and opens the top, his heart dropping at the sight of his good friend stuffed inside with a bullet hole in his head. Don is dead and from the looks of it, he’s been dead for a while, possibly before you came to America. He closes the ice chest and walks back upstairs where Spencer is still waiting.

“What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

“I’m an FBI profiler. Don’t lie to me.”

“I can’t talk about it,” Ben sighs.

Ben moves around Spencer to leave the apartment but Spencer’s words stop him.

“Does this have something to do with Yacleira?”

“What did you say?”

“I know Y/N is a princess. Of Yacleira, right?”

“How do you know that?”

“Like I said, I’m in the FBI.”

Ben decides to take this leap of faith and trust Spencer because help from him is better than no help at all. He and Spencer walk to the kitchen table and sit down so they can talk.

“My name is Benjamin and I am the sole bodyguard of Princess Y/N.”

“Bodyguard? You let her leave Yacleira alone?”

“Listen, kid, she was miserable over there. She is at that age where she needs to marry, and her parents arranged for her to marry Prince Henry of Vosharia. You should have seen the tears in her eyes every time she had to do something wedding-related. I saved her from something far worse, trust me.”

Spencer didn’t know this ran so deep.

“What happened next?”

“I had this friend, Don Stockwell. We used to be in the Navy together. I got in contact with him and he offered to look after her, to give her a normal life. I needed to be as far away from this as possible but I thought she’d be safe here.”

“You said had. Don’s alive, isn’t he?”

“No. His body is downstairs in the basement stuffed into an ice chest. Whoever she’s been staying with isn’t Don.”

“I shouldn’t have left yesterday,” Spencer sighs in guilt.

“How do you know her?”

“We met in the coffee shop. She worked there. She’s amazing and I fell for her immediately.”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer mumbles. “I shouldn’t have left yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who let her go without checking to make sure Don was okay.”

“Does her parents know?”

“That I was involved? No. They sent me here because of a photo of you two leaving a restaurant.”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs. “I didn’t know why she was panicking all night. I thought she was nervous.”

“I need to know who she is staying with. Can you help me with that?”

“Yeah.” Spencer checks the time on his watch. “I gotta head back anyway.”

“What are you going to do about the dead body in the basement?”

“I’ll call it in.”

Spencer does on his way back to the BAU with Benjamin following closely behind. JJ hasn’t presented a new case so Spencer hopes they can focus on this one until you’re back in your own bed safe and sound. Her own bed back in Yacleira where she belongs. Spencer casts his eyes down as he tries not to think of what you two will mean after they find you. He gathers everyone in the briefing room and explains what is going on.

“So, she’s really royalty?” Penelope asks.

“Yes, and she is the only heir to the throne, so I’d like to find her sooner rather than later.”

“Prentiss, take JJ with you to the Coffee Shop and ask around about her. Someone might have seen something,” Hotch says, and both women leave. “Garcia, I need everything you can on Don Stockwell.”

“Don is dead inside the house. He most likely died before she even stepped foot into this country.”

“I know, but something in his history might tell us something about the man she’s been staying with.”

“You’ve met him, right?” Ben asks Spencer who nods. “Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

“He has a huge scar running across his face. His hair covered some of it but I noticed it.”

“Fuck,” Benjamin curses. “Pardon my French.”

“Do you know this man?” Rossi asks.

“Yeah, I’m the one who gave him the damn scar. His name is James Volkov and he’s been after the princess for quite some time now, even in Yacleira. He attempted to overthrow the throne a couple of years ago, but the farthest he got was the front door. She never even saw him or knew he was after her. Her mother and father forbid me to mention it to her.”

“Let’s see what kind of dirty stuff James has in his closet,” Penelope says, typing on her laptop. “Not much is known about him except he was born in raised in Russia. Went to prison in Russia. Fled Russia. He’s been hiding in the States on and off for the past ten years.”

“Yeah, he owes a lot of people money and he thinks by overthrowing the Richmonds, he’ll get the money to finally be free. He knows damn well if he steps foot in Russia, he’d get arrested no matter how much money he has.”

“Can you track him?” Hotch asks Penelope.

“That’s easier said than done. He’s only ever used burner phones, he used a car he paid for with cash, rented monthly with Don’s name, and avoided all cameras that I can see. I only have him in view of a camera when he went to see Y/N at the Coffee Shop, and their house isn’t in the way of any cameras.”

“What about her phone? She must have had it with her when she went missing, right?”

“If he was desperate enough, he might still have it with him,” Rossi says.

Penelope types into her laptop and pulls up the signal from your phone.

“It’s pinging off three cell towers. It’s going to take a hot minute to track it.”

Ben takes out his phone and calls Kylen to report his findings. He doesn’t have to wait long knowing Kylen is eager for some news.

“We got something here. James Volkov--”

“That bastard?”

“What is it, Kylen?” Benjamin hears Calliope on the other side, her voice faint.

“He fled to America and posed as someone Y/N trusted. He’s been taking care of her but kidnapped her. We’re trying to locate both of them right now.”

Kylen covers the phone with his hand and relays the news to the King and Queen. Even with the speaker covered, Benjamin can hear Calliope cry for her daughter. Benjamin waits five seconds, then ten, then twenty. Something is happening over there or else Kylen would have torn Benjamin a new one for sending her here. It won’t take a genius to figure out his involvement.

“What is it?” Ben asks.

“We got something. An email.”

“An email?” Hotch and Rossi look at Ben who then places Kylen on speakerphone. “What did the email say?”

“A ransom note for Y/N’s safety, demanding one hundred million American dollars.”

“How do we know they actually have her?”

“It’s better for you if you see for yourself.” Kylen sends over the email that Benjamin looks over. His blood runs cold when he sees a picture of you tied and gagged with tears running down your cheeks. “If they don’t comply in twenty-four hours, they’ll remove a limb for each hour past it.”

“Kylen--”

“The King and Queen are heading down there right now to deal with this directly. You better have a good story as to why Don Stockwell was supposed to be the person she was to meet, and why you two were Navy buddies.”

Kylen hangs up without waiting to hear what Benjamin says. He taps the end of his phone on the table in thought and Penelope’s laptop pings.

“I got her phone’s last known location.” Penelope puts the map on the big screen so everyone can see it. “It’s at a gas station on the edge of town.”

“I’m not surprised he ditched it,” Ben grumbles.

JJ and Emily come back from the Coffee Shop with a notepad in Em’s hands.

“So, there is nothing on James or Don, but we did get someone that visited her a few times during her employment. They didn’t get the name of the man, but the manager, Cindy, was able to provide a description. We looked back on the cameras and we told her to send it to you,” JJ says to Pen.

Penelope pulls up the cameras and clicks into the video file that was sent over to her. As clear as day, the man who visited you is on camera. Benjamin shakes his head, having not recognized the man.

“I don’t know who that is. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Should I release this to the press?” JJ asks.

“Wouldn’t that pressure them to hurt Y/N?” Benjamin asks.

He might not have been with you for a few months, but he is still your bodyguard. He still cares for you.

“He might be right,” Rossi says.

“No, not yet. Not until we have more information,” Hotch says to her.

Ben resumes tapping his phone on the table. He should have never let you leave Yacleira. At the very least, he should have checked to make sure Don was doing okay. He wanted to give you as normal life as possible which meant cutting you off from Yacleira and its people as much as he could. On the other hand, Spencer feels guilty for leaving you yesterday. He should have given you a chance to explain.

Maybe then your life wouldn’t be hanging in the balance.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[corroded-hellfire]

How would like and Ryan be when the baby kicked for the first time? Can you write a teeny blurb for it? I can imagine Eddie calling them over to feel! They’d be so happy

You say “tiny blurb,” and suddenly @munson-blurbs and I have no idea what those words mean and come up with almost 4k words hehe. We hope you all enjoy this adorable family as much as we do 🩷

Words: 3.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Babe, can you sit still?” you ask with a laugh. Eddie seems to be fidgeting with everything in the examining room that’s not bolted down. He’s moved the jar of cotton balls around the desk, took a part the model of the female reproductive system, and played with the spiral cord attached to the blood pressure cuff. And you’ve only been in there for a little over five minutes. “My morning sickness finally stopped, and you pacing around the room is gonna start it up again.”

“Just nervous,” Eddie mumbles, twisting his wedding ring around his finger. “What if there’s something wrong with the baby, y’know?”

You pat the space next to you, paper crinkling below your hand. “C’mere, worrywart.” You offer a small smile as he sits down. “I’m nervous, too. But everything is gonna be okay. And Baby Munson will be perfect no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know.” But he doesn’t look fully convinced, continuing to pace until the ultrasound technician finally walks in. 

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” the tech greets you with a cheery smile. She’s a woman in her mid-to-late forties and has a dark brown bob haircut. “My name is Linda. Looks like we’re taking a peek at your baby today. How are you both feeling?”

“Pretty good,” you tell her. “Second trimester has been much better than the first so far.”

“That’s usually the case, so I’m glad to hear it,” Linda says. “And what about you, Dad?”

“Um, I’m good, yeah,” Eddie says, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“Nervous?” Linda asks with a knowing smile. “Your first?”

“No,” you say through a bout of laughter. “My first. This is his third go-around.”

Linda gives Eddie a kind smile as she sets up the ultrasound machine. “I understand. Worrying about wife and baby at the same time is a lot.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, giving you a pointed look. You giggle and hold your hand out, which he gladly takes into his own. 

“I’ll be doing a checkup on your baby today,” Linda tells you. “Seeing how organs are developing, things like that. Are you interested in knowing the sex?”

You and Eddie had discussed that at length. There were pros and cons both with finding out now or waiting until the birth. It didn’t matter one way or the other if the baby is a boy or a girl, so you figured you might as well learn today. That would also satisfy the two curious boys at home. 

“Yes, we’d like to know, please,” you say, giving your husband’s hand a squeeze. 

“No problem.” Linda tucks her hands into latex gloves and picks up the bottle of the cold goo she’s going to be spreading on your stomach. “We ready?”

“Ready,” you say. As much as you were anticipating the coldness of the gel, it still makes you jump when it touches your skin. Eddie chuckles and rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. Linda moves the ultrasound wand around your lower abdomen, trying to get the best view of the baby. How she could tell, you’d never understand. It all looks like a bunch of wavy lines and differing shades of black and white. 

“Ah, there we go,” Linda says, pointing to the screen. “There’s your baby.”

Eddie leans in to look at the screen, the brightest grin on his face. Your gaze keeps moving from the image of your baby to your husband; his former nerves now forgotten as he looks at the child growing inside of you. The angle changes on the screen and you know even less of what you’re looking at now. A little thump thump thump sounds from the ultrasound, and your eyes suddenly fill with tears. That’s your baby’s heartbeat. This little being inside of you that you and Eddie created. It’s half him and half you. You’ve always known how life was a miracle, but having it happen inside of you makes it even more miraculous. 

“That’s a nice strong heartbeat,” Linda says. “Very good. The heart looks good. Kidneys look good. Liver, yes. And that beautiful little brain. Proud to report that the baby has ten fingers and ten toes, as well.” 

You squeeze your husband’s hand, and he bends down to kiss your forehead. “Look what we made,” he murmurs, voice catching before turning back to the technician. “Do—do you know…”

Linda moves the wand, keeping it pressed to the swell of your belly. “Seems to me like you’re having a little baby girl. Congratulations!” She beams at you both. 

“Oh, my God,” Eddie manages. Concern floods your senses as you feel him tremble slightly. “Babe, it’s a girl. We’re…we’re gonna have a daughter!”

Linda cleans the gel from your stomach, excusing herself and leaving you and Eddie alone. 

“Are you upset?” you ask, pushing yourself up. “I know you’re used to having boys, but—”

“Upset?” Eddie cuts you off with an incredulous chuckle. “Absolutely not. I always wanted a daughter, and now I’m having one with the love of my life. It’s just…a lot to take in.” He pulls his chair closer to yours and sits so he’s at your eye-level. “You’re the mother of my daughter. Do you know how goddamn happy that makes me?” 

The last sentence makes the dam burst, and a tear trickles down his cheek. “All I ever wanted was someone who loves me, who loves my kids, and now I have her and she’s giving me a baby girl.” His lips press against yours, hand cupping your face gingerly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his. “And speaking of loving your kids…how should we tell them about their new sister?”

Eddie taps his finger to his chin. “I feel like they’d appreciate something edible. Like a cupcake or something.”

“Are you just saying that because you want cupcakes for dessert?” you tease. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

Eddie picks up Ryan from the junior high and Luke from the elementary school, trying to keep the newfound secret. Ryan’s at an age where he doesn’t say much, and Luke is buzzing with excitement about an upcoming field trip to the zoo, so neither boy says anything about their dad getting them from school. 

“You guys wanna swing by Family Video and grab a movie for tonight?” Eddie asks, leg bouncing anxiously. “I think we’re gonna order pizza for dinner and have cupcakes for dessert.”

“Cool,” Ryan nods, going back to gaze out the window. 

“Dad, if you were a pizza topping, which one would you be?” Luke doesn’t even stop to let his dad answer before saying, “I think you’d be a mushroom. ‘Cause you're a fun guy!”

Ryan shakes his head, but Eddie can’t help but let out a snort of laughter. “That’s what they’re teaching you in public school these days, huh?” he asks his son. “Anything in particular you think you want to get at the video store?”

“I dunno,” Luke says with a shrug. “Oh! Can we rent Attack of the Clones?”

“I don’t think that one’s available yet, bud,” Eddie says. “Anything else? Ryan?”

“Shrek?” Ryan offers, though it sounds more like a question. 

“That’s a good one,” Luke says. “In the morning, I’m making waffles!” Luke’s Eddie Murphy impression leaves something to be desired, but it makes Eddie smile. 

Corralling the kids inside Family Video, they instantly take off in different directions and Eddie has to decide which one needs more supervision. Luke. He follows after his youngest son, watching as he scans the VHS and DVD covers that he passes. 

“Spiderman?” Luke asks, picking up the DVD case.

Eddie wrinkles up his nose and shakes his head. “Nah, not tonight.” Luke sets it back and continues down the aisle. Ryan comes over, holding a DVD in his hand. “Whatcha got, pal?”

“The Master of Disguise,” Ryan announces proudly, holding the cover up for his dad to see.

“Dana Carvey, huh? Well, isn't that special?” When Ryan looks at his father like he has three heads, Eddie sighs. “Shit, I’m getting old. Yeah, that one looks great. Luke? Find anything?”

“The Wild Thornberrys!” Luke gasps, snatching up the orange VHS tape. “This one!”

“That’s with the talking monkey and the babbling kid?” Eddie asks.

“Darwin. He’s the monkey, Dad. And the boy is Donny,” Luke informs him.

“Right, sorry,” Eddie says, though he knows he’s not going to remember it. “We ready to go?”

The Munson men arrive home just as the pizza delivery van pulls up. Eddie quickly hands him some crumpled bills from his wallet, determined to get his hands on the biggest slice before one of the kids does. 

You and Eddie can barely contain your excitement, exchanging giggling glances as the boys obliviously eat dinner. 

“So, Kyle bet me that I couldn’t climb to the top of the swingset and jump off,” Luke is saying, “and I was like, ‘duh, of course I can!’ But then our teacher caught me before I could get all the way up and I had to sit out for the rest of recess.”

Eddie rests his head in his hands. “Y’know, Wayne warned me that karma would come back to bite me for all the stress I put him through,” he mutters, but there’s a smile on his face. “When I asked, ‘what happened in school today?’, I was thinking more along the lines of tests and homework, not scaling the playground equipment like a spider monkey.”

“And just think; in about five months, there’ll be a new little Munson to test your patience,” you tease, clearing the empty plates from the table. “Are you guys ready for dessert?”

Ryan nods, wincing when Luke cheers directly into his ear. “You’re so loud,” he complains, shoving his brother away from him. 

“It’s good practice for when the new baby comes,” Eddie jokes. “Seriously, though, Luke—take it down a notch.”

“At least the new baby will have an excuse,” Ryan points out. “Luke just can’t shut up.”

“Hey!”

“Fair point, but don’t tell your brother to shut up,” Eddie says, watching as you bring out a tray of pink-frosted cupcakes. His leg bounces with anticipation. 

The boys dig in hungrily, with Luke not even bothering to peel off the wrapper until his dad reminds him. They’re too focused on the dessert to notice that you and Eddie are anxiously awaiting their reactions. 

“So,” Eddie says slyly, “why do you think the cupcakes have pink frosting?”

Luke jumps out of his seat to answer. “You’re a vampire and you put blood in it!”

“Okay, seriously? What are they teaching you in school?” Eddie muses incredulously. 

You break into the conversation in an attempt to steer it in the right direction. “Where did we say we were going today?” you try, watching as they wrack their brains. 

“To the doctor to see…” Ryan starts, eyes widening as he makes the connection. “IT’S A GIRL?!”

“We’re getting a sister! We’re getting a sister!” Luke singsongs, dancing around the table. “Now I won’t have to share with her.”

“It’s a girl,” Eddie confirms. “But you’ve still got to share, bud.”

Ryan slips out of his chair and starts to jump up and down, the most infectious grin spread across his face. “A baby girl! A little sister! Gah!” His little body looks unable to contain all of his emotions as he hops around. 

You chuckle, eyes misting over slightly. Eddie reaches for your hand and laces his fingers with yours. Luke grabs his cupcake and goes to continue his dancing with it, until Eddie stops him.

“Butt in the seat if the cupcake is gonna be in your hand,” he tells his son. 

“Is there a picture?” Ryan asks as he takes his as well, wanting to partake in the dessert. “Of the baby?”

“There is,” you tell him. “But let’s wait until we’re done eating and our hands are clean before we get it out.”

“Do you have a name yet?” Luke asks, face somehow already smeared pink. 

“Daddy and I have been talking over some names for a few weeks, but we haven’t decided yet,” you say. 

“How about Matilda?” Luke asks, making you giggle.

“Luke, do you think she’s going to be a little witch?” you ask.

“Could be,” he answers with a shrug.

“I’m veto-ing Matilda,” Eddie says. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“The only reason you’d want it now is because I said no,” Eddie says, wrinkling up his nose and sticking his tongue out at you. 

“I like Rachel,” Ryan says. “It’s a pretty name.”

“It is pretty,” you agree. “But how about we finish these cupcakes so we can go watch a movie?”

“Madeline?” Luke suggests.

“Eat your pink dessert, you rugrat,” Eddie tells him. 

As Eddie stands up to begin collecting dirty plates, you go and grab the sonogram picture out of your purse. You sit back down at the table, and a boy stands on each side of you as you show them the image. 

“What am I supposed to see?” Luke asks. 

“See that little white spot right here?” you ask, pointing with your pinky finger.

“Uh huh,” Luke says.

“That’s the baby.”

“Looks like a peanut,” Ryan says, making you laugh.

“I guess it kind of does, doesn’t it?” 

“Cutest peanut I ever saw!” Luke announces. 

Eddie cleans off the table, throwing away any garbage, and wrapping up the remaining cupcakes to be eaten at a later time. He shooed you out of the kitchen, insisting you go sit on the couch and make the boys entertain you until he returns. Honestly, he’s just curious as to what you’d ask of them in terms of amusement. When he walks into the living room, Luke is sitting on the ground, shuffling between the few movies he’d rented at Family Video with them today. You’re sitting down, Ryan tucked up between you and the arm of the couch. Your bump has just started becoming noticeable through your clothes, and Eddie took every opportunity that he could to stare at it. Seeing the reminder that you’re carrying his baby made him so giddy. 

Luke seems to have settled on a movie, so Eddie crosses the room and takes a seat next to you. He immediately lifts his arm and you snuggle up against his side. Your husband’s soft lips press against your temple, and you let your eyes slip closed with an easy smile on your mouth. 

“What’re we watching?” Ryan asks.

“The Wild Thornberrys movie,” he replies. Once the movie is in, Luke grabs the remote and settles down on the other side of his dad. He presses play on the remote and tugs the blanket that’s resting on the top of the couch into his lap. You feel a weight pressed on your side, and look down to see Ryan leaning against you, cuddling in to get comfy. 

“What about Ariel?” Luke asks as he fast forwards through the previews. 

“What?” you ask. 

“For the baby,” Luke says. “What about Ariel?”

“First a witch, now a mermaid,” Ryan mumbles from the other side of you.

“There’s plenty of time to talk about names, Luke,” Eddie tells him. “Let’s just watch the movie.” Secretly, he’s pleased that they’re both so happy to have a sister. 

A warm, cozy feeling floods your body when he instinctively rests his ringed hand on your bump. You’re so relaxed and surrounded by so much love—and completely exhausted from being pregnant—that you start to fall asleep twenty minutes in. 

Your eyes are fluttering shut when you feel it: a tiny kick in your lower abdomen. Both you and your husband sit up straight, suddenly wide awake. 

“Was that—” he starts at the same time you say, “Did she—”

“What happened?” Ryan asks, drawing his attention from the Thornberry family’s chaos. 

Eddie smiles, rubbing the spot where he felt the baby. “I think your little sister is trying to show off her karate moves.” 

Luke wrinkles his nose. “How did she learn karate?”

“He means that she kicked me,” you explain with a giggle. Eddie just tucks his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you. 

“Does it hurt?” Concern is written all over Ryan’s face as he scoots over a little, now unsure of his proximity to you. 

“Not really; kinda feels like a little flick from the inside,” you say. “But she still hasn’t fully developed her feet yet. I’m sure I’ll really feel it then.” You watch as he nervously plays with his fingers. “Do you wanna see if she’ll kick for you?”

Ryan hesitates at first, glancing at his dad. 

“It’s okay, bud,” Eddie tells him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Totally up to you.”

“No, I wanna see. As long as you promise it doesn’t hurt,” Ryan says, turning to you. 

You hold up your pinky and he does the same so you can pinky-swear on it. He gingerly puts his palm near your belly button, frowning when nothing happens. 

“Maybe she’s sleeping,” he muses. 

“Try this,” Luke says, bounding over to you and leaning in close to your stomach. “Hi-yah!” He punctuates the sound with something resembling martial arts, making everyone laugh. 

And then you feel another kick. 

“Hey,” you say with a chuckle. “That worked, Luke.” The little boy gives you a triumphant smile.

“I didn’t feel it,” Ryan says, a frown pinching his features.

“It was a little more this way,” you say, sliding Ryan’s hand closer to the spot where movement is occurring. “Why don’t you try talking to her, too?”

“Can she hear me?” Ryan asks, looking up at you.

“Last time I saw the doctor she told me that the baby can hear my heartbeat. That must mean her little ears are growing. Go ahead, give it a try,” you encourage. 

Ryan nods and lowers his head to be closer to your belly. “Um, hi. I hope you can hear me.”

“She doesn’t speak English yet,” Luke says. Eddie reaches out and tugs his younger son into his lap.

“She can tell by the sound of your voice,” Eddie says. “So hush.”

“I’m your big brother,” Ryan continues. “Well, the older one. I can’t believe you’re my baby sister in there.” 

You turn your head to share a look with Eddie. Though you’re both feeling the same warm, loving feelings about this tender moment, Eddie’s reaction is a beaming smile, while your hormones are making you react with tears. Your husband reaches up and gently wipes your tears away. There’s another kick, and this one makes you giggle. Ryan’s face lights up in delight. He stares at your bump, then up at your face.

“I felt it! She likes me!”

“Sweetheart, she loves you,” you tell him, moving some hair off his forehead. “You’re her big brother.”

“Hi, baby,” Luke says, leaning down in Eddie’s lap to talk on a more even level with your belly button. “I’m Luke, your other brother.” He pauses and looks up at you. “Can I feel?”

“Of course,” you say, and guide one of his small hands right next to Ryan’s. “Go ahead, keep talking to her.”

“I know you’re a girl, but maybe you’ll like my Hot Wheels, too.”

“Thought you weren’t going to share with her?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“This is between me and my sister,” Luke says, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. “If Dad’s too old, I can teach you lots of fun stuff. Like sports and bikes and different games.”

“How old does this kid think I am?” Eddie mumbles to you. You press a kiss to his cheek just as the little lady decides to make her presence known yet again. 

“I felt it! I felt her kick!” Luke grins, his little hand rubbing over the spot on your tummy where he felt it. “That’s so cool! I think she’s gonna be a soccer player.”

“You ready to be a soccer mom?” Eddie teases, and you flick his nose. You’d be giving him a much different gesture with your finger if the boys weren’t around.  “Gonna trade in your sedan for a minivan?”

After the excitement of the baby’s movements has calmed down, everyone settles back into their spots on the couch to watch the movie. Ryan shifts a bit before speaking up. 

“How about Eliza?”

“Hm?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair. 

“For the baby’s name. Like Eliza Thornberry,” he elaborates, a sweet smile on his face. “She’s good with animals and nice to people. And it’ll remind us of the first time we felt her kick.”

You and Eddie exchange amused glances. “I actually kinda like it,” he says with a shrug. “Let me try it out: Eliza Munson, did you finish your homework?” he bellows in a deep, dramatic voice before grinning widely. “Yup, that works.”

“I think it’s definitely a contender,” you tell Ryan. 

“Or,” Luke pipes up, raising his eyebrows. “We could name her Donnie.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be a no,” Eddie laughs, ruffling Luke’s curls when the boy starts to pout. “But you can help brainstorm a middle name.”

That seems to placate him long enough to finish the movie. Everyone is yawning by the time the credits roll; you can barely find the energy to stand up and brush your teeth. 

You’re getting into bed when Eddie walks in the room. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt and flannel pajama pants that sit low on his hips. If you weren’t about to pass out, you’d rip them off of him. 

“So, the boys seemed happy to have a sister,” he says, twisting the rings from his fingers and placing them on his nightstand. 

You nod. “I was worried that they’d be upset about having another girl in the house.”

“Nah,” Eddie shakes his head, sliding in next to you. “They already have a brother. Now, if the next Baby Munson is another girl, we might have a problem.”

“The next Baby Munson?” you echo incredulously. “Can I just get through labor with this one first before we talk about another?”

“Aye aye, captain.” Eddie kisses your forehead and pulls you in towards him, automatically assuming the big spoon position. “Good night, Mama Munson.” His hand travels to the swell of your belly as he adds, “and good night, Eliza.”